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captainsophiestark · 12 days ago

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The Shiz University Book Fair

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

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Fandom: Wicked

Summary: Fiyero made an enemy in his destruction of the library, but it might be just the spark he needs to find something in life that matters.

Word Count: 2,952

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: The actor who played Fiyero the first time I saw the musical will forever and always hold the place of favorite in my heart, but damn, Jonathan Bailey is a VERY close second.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"That self-important, irreverent, stupid, idiot."

I grumbled to myself, using it to vent a little bit of my temper as I worked through my corner of the library. The books I'd been meticulously organizing, gathering, and cataloguing had been scattered to the winds, and even worse, some of them had sustained damage. I couldn't be completely sure yet, but it also seemed like a few were missing. I was going to kill that stupid fucking prince.

"Well, I see someone completely ignored my critical lesson yesterday."

Speak of the devil and he will appear. I huffed, then set down the stack of books in my hand before whirling around with a fierce scowl. None other than Fiyero Tigelaar stood before me, much closer than was wise if he knew how badly I wanted to hit him, staring at me with his arms crossed and an insufferable smile on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, absolutely seething. Fiyero just shrugged, apparently completely unaffected.

"I noticed you didn't come to the Oz Dust last night. I figured that meant I had more work to do in corrupting my fellow classmates." He gave a significant look to the stacks of books behind me. "Apparently, I was right."

"If you so much as move a finger to touch my books again, I swear, I'll knock that stupid smile right off your face. For good."

Fiyero's eyebrows raised, but his grin only widened. He held up his hands as if to placate me, but he also took a step forward. I narrowed my eyes.

"Listen, I'm just trying to say... you seem a little stressed," he said. I scoffed, but it didn't deter him. "And in my professional opinion, you need to let go of some of this stress before it eats you alive. Living in the library, working day and night, not letting go and having fun? I've seen it claim more than one attractive classmate whom I could've saved. I'm not letting it happen this time."

I clenched and unclenched my fists, barely managing to restrain myself from punching him in the nose. Clearly, his flirty charm had worked almost universally for him before, to the point that he wasn't getting a single one of the glaringly obvious signs that I did not like him and did not want to talk to him. I huffed a long sigh through my nose.

"Fine. You want me to let off some stress? Here goes!" Fiyero grinned like he'd just won the lottery, but I steamrolled over him, relishing the moment that satisfaction dropped from his face. "I've been working on putting together pallets of books and organizing everything for months for the largest reading and book fair in Oz! All for kids, who travel from far and wide to come to the Shiz University Book Fair. For some of them, this is the only access they get to important stories, reading events, and information that they otherwise can't even dream about. I've been helping to put it on since I started here at Shiz, and for the first time, I've finally been put in charge of the whole thing. My dream job, my dream event, that will do so much good. And you fucking ruined it!

"It's going to take me SO LONG to put everything back, reorganize what you threw around the room for your stupid dance break, replace the damaged and missing books, all before the kids come in less than a week! And frankly, if you hadn't destroyed all of my hard work, I probably would've gone dancing with my friends last night, to celebrate the end of our preparations. But instead, I'm here, working all day and night to get things back in order for one of the events that I not only enjoy most, but that's most important to me and the people who attend. Some of us know how to balance important things that we care about with dicking around, and we don't need lessons from a sanctimonious asshat who thinks he has life figured out even though it's painfully obvious that he doesn't."

Fiyero frowned at me, actually looking like he was using his brain for the first time since I'd met him. Whether he was burning up his processing power trying to think of a comeback or just fuming about someone having the nerve to shout at him, I didn't wait to find out.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you the minute you set foot in my space here," I continued, the anger leveling to a dangerous simmer rather than the explosion I'd been feeling a few moments earlier. "Now get the hell out."

With that, I whipped around, putting my back to Fiyero and returning to my stacks of books. It was the clearest method I could think of for dismissing him, and hopefully, he at least got this message.

I finished running through an inventory of the next stack of books without interruption from Fiyero. After another moment, I couldn't stand the not knowing anymore, so I whirled back around with a scowl already loaded to tell him to get lost again, this time in stronger words. But, to my surprise, he was nowhere to be seen.

I hummed to myself, scouting the library one last time. He was really gone. Good. I'd expected more of a fight, but I definitely didn't have time for one. Hopefully, that would be the last I saw of that obnoxious party boy.

***************

"Babies and toddlers?"

"Check."

"Learning to read?"

"Check."

"Middle grade?"

"Check."

"Everything else? Nonfiction, second language, advanced readers-"

"Everything checked off and accounted for. Now triple checked."

I let out a long sigh as I stared around the circle of my closest, most trusted volunteers. They each had clipboards in hand, running through last inventory and organization checks with me before the Shiz University Book Fair officially began. Despite how intense I'd been all morning, they all still had smiles on their faces as they indulged my over-preparedness. This event meant just as much to them as to me, after all, and we were all recovering from last week's unplanned chaos.

"Alright. Then great job, everybody. Grab some coffee or whatever else you want, and then get in position. Doors open in ten."

Everyone nodded, sharing smiles before breaking from our circle and heading off to do whatever they wanted with their last few minutes of quiet. Some of them clapped me on the shoulder on their way past, and I gave them each a smile and a nod.

After the scene Fiyero had caused in the library, not only had everything required reorganization, but a good number of the books had also required replacing. I'd managed to track down most of them, but with only a week's notice, I hadn't quite gotten all of them. Still, on such a limited time frame, I was proud of what I'd managed to accomplish. Everything was as close to perfect as it could be, in position and ready for the arrival of the kids to go off without a hitch.

Of course, no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than a new challenge popped up out of the ether to punch me in the nose. With just under ten minutes until book fair start, Fiyero had the nerve to come riding in on a bicycle, a cart behind him and a smile on his face.

I rushed across the field space where we'd set up the book stands, trying to head him off as early as possible. I caught some of our volunteers sharing glances and looking at Fiyero with interest, but this was a problem I was perfectly happy to handle myself.

"You! Get the hell out of here, right now!" I shouted, pointing to Fiyero as he stopped his bike and hopped off of it. I raced right up to him, shoving at his shoulders and trying to shoo him back onboard the bike, but he just held up his hands in surrender while still standing his ground.

"Relax! I come bearing books!"

I froze. Fiyero's shoulders relaxed when I stopped trying to shove him out of my space, but his relief was a little early as far as I was concerned. I narrowed my eyes at him, incredibly suspicious and ready to resume my attack at a moment's notice.

"What do you mean you come bearing books? What are you talking about?"

Fiyero smiled, keeping his hands up in the air as he walked to the back of the wagon he'd pulled here on his bicycle. I watched him like a hawk, but when he flipped the tarp back to reveal a few different crates of books, I couldn't stop my mouth from dropping open in shock.

"What...?"

"I heard what you said in the library," Fiyero said with a shrug. "I'm... sorry... that I ruined some of the books you'd prepared for the children. I didn't mean to. Or, I suppose I did, but... I didn't realize how important they were at the time. I asked around, and a few of your volunteers said you hadn't been able to replace some of the books, so... I decided to do it myself."

My eyebrows shot up as Fiyero lifted the first crate out of the cart. He walked over to me, stopping just in front of me and holding it out so I could see inside. Lo and behold, it contained more than one volume of the books I hadn't quite been able to replace on such short notice.

I looked up at Fiyero with wide eyes, all the fire and impulse for violence drained away. He just smiled back at me, and this time, it didn't seem to have the same arrogant tinge as before.

"...How...?"

He just shrugged again.

"I'm a prince. I have my ways."

"You... you seriously went to all the trouble to track these down? Just for the book fair?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile. "I've been trying to find something useful to do with my title for a long time. It wasn't a problem."

I just breathed another surprised sigh. I didn't know how to react to the man in front of me. I'd written him off as a shallow asshole, quite validly in my opinion, but the Fiyero standing before me now seemed like a completely different man.

"So... is there somewhere in particular you'd like me to put these books?"

"Oh! Yes, uh... yeah. Follow me."

I led the way to the table I'd worked hard to cover up a slight empty spot on, and Fiyero dutifully followed me. I waved to a few of the other volunteers to unload the rest of his cart, and we worked quickly, Fiyero providing much more help than I'd been expecting. By the time the doors officially opened and the first few children arrived, everything was perfectly in place.

I'd been expecting Fiyero to take off not long after he dropped off the books, but he continued to surprise me. He talked to the kids and their families as they came in, and not long into the event, he borrowed a map of the table layouts from one of the more experienced volunteers. Within ten minutes, he was helping direct kids and families with questions, carrying their books, and sending them to people who could answer questions if he ran into one he didn't know the answer to.

I kept an eye on him all the same, expecting the other shoe to drop. Surely, the Fiyero that had destroyed my books and the rest of the library would make a reappearance at some point. And yet, he never did. The new Fiyero not only stayed, but he stayed later than some of my regular volunteers. The sun was setting by the time the last kids and families left, and Fiyero was still here, along with my most dedicated volunteer core. I shook my head as I crossed the space to talk to him, still not quite believing this had been real.

"Well!" he said, addressing me with a smile and his hands on his hips as soon as he noticed me coming. "That seems like it was a success!"

"Yeah. We're still looking at numbers, but... I think it might've been our most successful event ever."

Fiyero's smile took on a warm glow that made him much, much more handsome than I'd ever thought possible when he was destroying books.

"Congratulations."

Heat rose to my face as I glanced at the ground.

"Yeah, well... thanks." When I met his eyes again, that same warm smile almost knocked me flat as my heart raced in my chest. Still, I forced myself to take a breath and return to reality. "...Why are you here?"

Fiyero frowned. "Am... I not wanted?"

"No! No, that's not what I was trying to say. Seriously. I appreciate all your help, both with the books and with the kids today. Honestly, you were great. But... I don't know, I'm just surprised, is all. You didn't really strike me as the type of guy to hang around volunteering at a book fair for an entire day."

Fiyero hummed, glancing down with a self-deprecating smile on his face. I watched him with interest, especially when he met my eyes again with more sincerity than I'd honestly believed him capable of.

"I didn't strike myself as that type either. In fact, I pride myself on my ability to corrupt my fellow classmates despite the best efforts of people like you. But... it was nice to be a part of this. Speaking with you in the library... it's clear how much this matters. To you, of course, but to the kids and their families who come to this event... It obviously does a lot of good. It was nice to be a part of creating that."

I smiled at Fiyero, something I never could've imagined doing just a few hours ago.

"Not what I expected to hear from Mr. Nothing Matters."

Fiyero shrugged. "Well..."

He turned slightly away from me, rubbing the back of his neck and moving like he was going to retrieve his bike and leave. I reached out and grabbed his hand before he could get very far, to both our surprise. Fiyero looked at me with raised eyebrows, a light behind his eyes that I'd never seen before.

"It was wonderful to have your help," I said. "I kind of hate to admit it, but... you were a big part of the reason this event was such a success. You found replacements for books that families and kids had been waiting for and expecting, but more than that, you spent time with them. You're a prince. Whether or not you care about the title, taking the time to talk to, help, and encourage those kids, who all know exactly who you are? It was a big deal. So thank you. I'm really glad you decided to be a part of this."

The last of the guarded expression faded from Fiyero's face as he fixed me with a soft smile. He stepped closer to me, and after a moment, I let my hand fall from his before clearing my throat.

"Anyway..." I said, trying to break whatever intensity was currently building between the two of us. "If you wanted to keep doing stuff like this, you know, helping make a difference... I host a reading group every week with some of the kids who are more local. I'd love to have your help hosting that, if you'd be interested."

Fiyero was fully grinning at me now, the confidence bordering on arrogance back in full force. This time, though, I didn't quite mind it as much.

"I'd love to help with that," he said. "On one condition."

"...And what's that?"

"As long as agreeing to help with your reading group doesn't prevent me from asking you out to dinner. And maybe for some dancing, to celebrate Shiz's best ever book fair."

Despite myself, I smiled, my heart flipping in my chest. If he'd had the nerve to ask me out a week ago, I would've slapped him. Now, I quite literally couldn't think of anything I'd rather do to celebrate.

"I think we can make that work," I said, fighting and losing to a smile of my own.

"Perfect. How about... tomorrow night?"

"You're on."

We shared another smile, but before we could do anything else, the voices of my friends, the other volunteers who'd been the most involved in this event, broke in. We'd all made plans to go out and celebrate once this event was officially finished, and although they were probably pretty interested in seeing what happened with Fiyero and I, none of them wanted to wait any longer to celebrate.

"One second!" I called, waving to them before turning back to Fiyero. He was still watching me with a little smile, and it made my heart race when I noticed it. "...Do you want to come with us?"

His eyebrows shot up.

"Where are you going?"

"The Oz Dust. We're celebrating a successful event, and you were certainly a part of creating that success. It wouldn't feel right to celebrate without you."

Fiyero grinned, then took my hand in his. My heart skipped a beat, but I pushed through, letting Fiyero pull me along and towards the group of my friends.

"It would be my honor," he said, giving me one last look before turning with a smile to greet the rest of our group. I followed, watching him, still a little in awe. Whatever had caused this change in Fiyero, it was truly amazing to see. Everyone else in the school seemed to be smitten with the party boy, but suddenly, I found myself head over heels for the version of him that seemed to care as much as I did, now that he'd found a cause worth caring about.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

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chaneajoyyy · 2 years ago

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🙃🙃

YAHYA ABDUL-MATEEN II — Good Morning America (2023)

#yahya abdul-mateen ii #godiva daddy #daddy long legs #a tree i'd like to climb #a beard i'd to scratch #why is he so fine!#lemme find out #black actors #ugh that damn smile #dem dimples #gifs #yahya abdul-mateen ii gifs #interviews #good morning america #topdog/underdog #broadway

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cupidscorpsee · 5 months ago

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You Missed the Damn Line

WC - 5,642 / 21 minute read

Warnings - Smut / 18+ content throughout / feminine terms used for reader

A/N: i’m ashamed of myself 0_0

In which you, an actress, are due for a sex scene with Hugh Jackman, but he has a better idea.

You tried your best, you really did, but they were simply not buying it.

“Cut!” the director yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as he walked up to the two actors on set. “What the fuck was that, L/N?”

You laughed awkwardly despite the director’s clear irritation. “You’re kidding. You’re making this impossible.”

Hugh sits up, careful not to ruin his carefully-messed up hair. He nodded in agreement. “Nothing’s good enough for you, mate.”

“Nothing’s good—” He scoffs, cutting himself off before he could finish mocking Hugh. “It’ll be good enough when you two get your shit together and shoot a good fucking sex scene.”

The director walks back to the camera and the intimacy coordinator beside it—a kind woman with a death glare pointed at the director. She sighed and looked back to the set. “Alright, you two. L/N, how are you doing? You comfortable?”

You sigh and lay back on the bed, staring up at the fake ceiling for this fake house in this fake movie that you were faking your way through. The life of an actress seemed to be a never-ending series of pretending to be someone you’re not. “I’m just peachy.”

The intimacy coordinator hums. “What about you, Hugh?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as that ol’ dag learns to be less of a prick,” Hugh mutters.

It was quite amusing to see Hugh this way, you will admit. He wasn’t usually so grumpy on set. In fact, he tended to be the sunshine in the movie-making cloud of darkness. Your countless camcorder videos of him cracking jokes or simply making a fool of himself behind the scenes proved he was always the life of the party.

“Jesus Christ,” the director groans. “Let’s just shoot the damn scene already.”

The intimacy coordinator rushes up to the two actors, ensuring everything from comfort, consent, modesty garments, and props are sufficiently in place, and then jogs back to the director’s side.

The director stood at the monitor, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the blocking for the scene. He was known for his meticulous attention to detail, and today was no different. Except, of course, he was a tad bit more intense at the moment. He turned to the crew and began giving instructions that neither you or Hugh could quite make out.

Hugh smiled at you, trying to ease the tension he knew you were feeling. “How ya feeling? Really.”

You cracked a smile, amused by his way of noticing when you were lying to the crew about your true emotions. “Tired and cranky. You?”

He shrugged. “Could use some supper, but other than that, I’m quite alright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Nothing about this situation is pissing you off? You’re really alright right now?”

He grins. “Yes. Bloody Oath.”

You smile softly. “Honestly, I’m really fucking nervous right now. I’ve never done this kind of scene before.”

“What about your first film? Ripe Age, was it?”

You grin. “Little secret…? That was a body double filming the sex scene for me.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and lets out a surprised huh sound. He then nodded in understanding, considering your words and putting together why you’d be nervous. He’d been in a few sex scenes before, but each one was different. Each acting partner brought their own energy and concerns. “I see, well… I’m right here with ya and we’ve got a bloody good team. Aside from Director Dickwad, of course.”

You laugh softly, not wanting to attract the director’s attention.

Just then, the intimacy coordinator approaches you two with her signature calm and kind demeanor. “Hey, L/N, Mr. Jackman, the director wants to go over everything one more time before we try again. Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The woman pulls up a prop chair from the room and sits at your eye level. You and Hugh listen to her intently, not wanting to miss something and having to re-shoot again. You’d done this scene enough times by now. “Okay, so we’ve discussed boundaries and comfort levels. Let’s revisit the choreography to make sure everything feels right.”

The woman held up the shot list and walked you two through the steps, just as one might for a complex dance sequence. You almost laughed at the notion of this being like a dance. Everything felt so ridiculous.

After a quick summary, the intimacy coordinator asks you two to get back into your positions for the scene. You slip back into your usual spots with ease. The woman guides you with gentle touches, adjusting a hand here, a foot there, ensuring your movements would look as natural as possible on camera while staying within your agreed limits.

You became hyper-aware of the small distance between your bodies—the way Hugh’s hand rested lightly on your waist, the heat of his skin warming yours through the thin, nude-colored underwear you wore.

“Remember,” the intimacy coordinator said after she was satisfied with their positions, her voice even, “this is a slow, intimate moment between two lovers who have missed each other very much.”

Hugh nodded, his focus remaining on you underneath him. “Right. We’ll take it slow.”

Your breath hitched softly at this. It was strangely comforting to know that he could see right through you and how you wanted so badly for everyone to be patient with you. “Yeah. Slow is good.”

The woman clapped, snapping you out of your moment of admiration for Hugh. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

The room was quieter than usual—a closed set. Only a few key crew members stood under the dimmed studio lights. The typical whispering and hum of equipment were replaced by a focused stillness. The room was dressed to look like an apartment bedroom—plush pillows under your head on a wide bed, soft lighting that cast warm shadows, and milky-white curtains that would sway with an unseen breeze after post-production.

You wore an almost translucent strapless bra, your nipples covered with nude-toned patches, and seamless nude underwear. Hugh, with a similar setup, wore modesty garments designed to appear as if he was—like you—fully exposed while still maintaining dignity. The garments, though strange and small, felt like a shield of some sort—a reminder that this wasn’t as invasive as it felt.

“Places,” the director called, and the set fell silent. The intimacy coordinator positioned herself by the monitor, ready to catch every detail. The director rested his chin in his palm, scratching his beard one, twice, before finally calling:

“Action.”

You and Hugh did everything again. The same exact choreographed movements you both had practiced. You focused on doing better than before, trying to make your rehearsed sounds and muttered lines seem real for the screen. Every touch and movement from Hugh was gentle and deliberate, ensuring you two stayed within the boundaries you had set beforehand. The scene was intimate, but the atmosphere between your near-nude bodies remained respectful and professional.

You moved together, your bodies close but never truly touching in the most vulnerable areas. You could feel the heat of Hugh’s breath against your neck as he leaned down, your movements slow and deliberate. Your fingers trailed down his bare back, your touch light, guided by the choreography you had rehearsed. You tried to focus on the script’s emotions—the longing, the fleeting connection…

The sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric beneath you, and the soft creak of the bed were the only things you heard—all blending into the story you were trying to tell.

Hugh cupped your face in his right palm, his thumb brushing your skin in a gesture that was more tender than you expected. It was a small, unscripted moment, but it made the scene feel real. Almost too real.

You falter and miss your line—an important mumble of the words, I cease to exist without you near me. Your eyes widen as you realize your idiotic mistake.

“Cut!” the director calls, the annoyance in his voice far from hidden. “You missed the damn line. We’re taking a break. I need a fucking cigarette.”

Hugh gets off you and you sit up, fighting the urge to literally face-palm right then and there. You groan softly, embarrassed by your own blunder.

Hugh is quick to apologize. “I should’ve stuck to the script. I threw you off—”

“No, no, I wasn’t focused enough,” you interrupted, shaking your head. You exhaled a frustrated breath and covered your face in your palms. You wanted to disappear. Your words came out muffled as you spoke again. “Jesus, I wish we could just have actual sex. At least it would be convincing.”

There’s a strange silence that follows and you have to peek through your fingers just to make sure you didn’t somehow fall off the face of the planet and into the void of outer space. Hugh is staring down at the mattress underneath his rested hand, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. You raise an eyebrow. “Hugh…?”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable, but not unkind. “What if we bail on this whole choreography nonsense? The director hardly knows how to write a bloody script. I wouldn’t be surprised if that dole bludger has never had sex before in his entire life.”

You stare at him blankly before blinking once, then twice. “What are you proposing?”

“Have you ever seen 9 Songs? Or Shortbus?”

You shake your head.

“The actors had unsimulated sex in order to portray their characters more efficiently. Of course, they had to sign contracts and consider possible strict scrutiny from the rating boards, but…”

You nearly laugh but grow red in the face when you notice his lack of humor. He’s serious? “You’re serious?”

He nods. “I… It’s a little mad, but we’re getting nowhere with this scene right now.”

Your throat goes dry. “This isn’t just some ruse to get laid, right? Some fucked up fantasy?”

“It isn’t.”

“You swear?”

“Bloody Oath.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you whisper, your voice somewhat emotionless as you’re too busy in a whirlwind of thoughts to pay much attention to anything else.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of his own nerves peeking through. “Ah, it’s a form of saying ‘of course’ or ‘definitely’. Aussie shite.”

“The media will go crazy for this when they find out,” you say, completely ignoring his explanation. It didn’t even register. It went in through one ear and out the other. “The movie will be controversial. We’ll be controversial.”

He smiles and cracks another joke. “A little controversy never hurt anybody.”

Yes, it fucking did, you think, but you don’t say anything. You simply consider his idea. It’s insane. It’s mental. It’s lock-you-up-in-a-psych-ward crazy.

But it’s tempting.

After all, any press is good press, right?

“We should talk to Aimee,” you say, gesturing at the intimacy coordinator who was sipping now-cold coffee from a mug that read, Teaching is my superpower, what’s yours? It didn’t make any fucking sense and for some reason that pissed you off more than the stupidity of this decision did.

Hugh nods and then huffs slightly. “It was just an idea, though, mate. It’s a bit reckless. We sincerely don’t have to.”

“Hugh.”

Silence. A beat of hesitation. “Yeah, mate?”

“Let’s get our movie done.”

You walk up to the intimacy coordinator, asking to speak to her in private. You enter the director’s empty office, borrowing his space. The woman sips her coffee and then sets it down on the brown desk beside you two, waiting for you to speak.

“Have you seen 9 Songs?”

She stares at you, a dumbfounded expression quickly replaced by one of steady firmness. “Absolutely not. L/N, no. Do you know what that could mean for this film?”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. “Aimee, we’ve been shooting this same fucking scene for weeks. This is the climax of the movie. It’s a pivotal moment. You can’t have a movie about transformative romantic and sexual intimacy without a convincing sex scene.”

Aimee raises an eyebrow. “You’ve analyzed the script?”

“I’ve read the damn book we’re adapting.”

“We’d have to change the rating from R to NC-17 or X, L/N.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… talk to the director. He’ll be the one to give you the green light.”

You nod.

————————————————————————

“Are you a fucking imbecell?”

“It’s actually pronounced ‘imbecile’, sir, and, uh, no. I’m not. I’m serious. This—” You snatch the worn, slightly bent script from the director’s free hand, his other one holding a lit cigarette, “This here is a fucking work of art that you’ve got. Hugh and I are committed to it. We want it as much as you do. As much as the thousands of fans who read the book are. People deserve a loyal adaptation.”

The director looks at you, stunned silent by the sudden balls you’ve grown. “You want the Wolverine to fuck you on camera for everyone to see?”

You shove the script to his chest, holding it there with the palm of your hand. “You’re damn right I do. I’m not letting you fuck up this movie.”

He clears his throat, takes a long drag from his cigarette, and then quotes, “‘Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.’”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. He drops his half-done cigarette on the concrete floor and stomps on it with his shoe, like a kid murdering a helpless ant just because he can. “But we’ll have to change the rating of the film. Expect less raving reviews and more controversy-fueled attention. You’re not winning a damn Oscar from this, kid. That’s out the window now.”

“So be it.”

“Tell Aimee to get the necessary paperwork to you and Mr. Jackman in thirty minutes. We’re finishing this godforsaken scene today.”

————————————————————————

“Okay, and…” Aimee starts, stacking the signed contracts atop each other before holding them together with a paperclip, “…there we go. All set. I hope you know that this is fucking insane.”

Hugh leans back in his chair. “I’d say it’s time I take a risk in my career. Can’t always rely on my X-Men reputation to carry me afloat.”

You roll your eyes. “Says the veteran actor.”

“If forty plus years of acting makes me veteran, what does that make you?” Hugh asks with a playful look.

“The total opposite.”

“Guys, please. Get a damn room,” Aimee interrupts. “Okay, so, the room will be empty while you two… Yeah. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. The cameras will be running the whole time as soon as I leave the room. Post-production is gonna have a helluva lot of fun with this shit.”

“They’ll have ‘shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks’,” the director says suddenly, having been sitting beside Aimee but mindlessly scrolling through his phone the entire time, seemingly uninterested in the legal, paperwork process.

“Do you always quote Heathers?” you ask, more amused than truly interested.

“Whenever possible.”

Aimee scoffs and then stands. “Let’s go get you geniuses ready on set. ‘Come on, it’ll be very.’”

The director smirks at the intimacy coordinator’s quick, witty use of reference.

They head back to the set and the crew fixes up the cameras and lighting before leaving Aimee, Hugh, you, and the director alone in the room. The director inspects the cameras before humming in satisfaction. “Fuck the choreography, then. Just… keep the characters in mind, please. Use your lines. I’m not paying you two to fuck on my set for no reason.”

Hugh smirks. “See ya in a bit, ol’ cobber.”

The director waves him off and leaves the room, Aimee following suit after a brief reminder of consent and safety rules. Soon enough, you and Hugh are left on the set alone, the cameras running and expectant.

Hugh sits on the bed. All the foreplay scenes were already shot and done a few days back, meaning they didn’t have to act anything like that out anymore. The only part they were missing was the sex. Just the undressing, the friction, the orgasms, and that was that.

“Come here,” Hugh whispers, his voice slipping into his impressive, fake American accent. You admired the way he could get into character so easily.

You walk up to him and stand in between his legs as he sits at the edge of the mattress. His hands make contact with your waist almost immediately, the thin robe with the production company’s logo on it riding up as his hands follow the curve and dip of your hips. You bite your bottom lip and watch his face as he feels you up. Somehow, it’s different than before. His fingers burn holes in your skin, making you feel jolts of both confusion and excitement.

If all the foreplay scenes were done with, why was he acting this way?

He grips her hips tighter, a small squeeze following suit before his fingers graze over the tied strings up front. “May I?”

You nod, not saying a word. This was new. So very new. None of this so far would even be in the film. Why would he bother?

He tugs at one of the strings and watches as your robe falls open, revealing the bare skin beneath, no modesty garments in place at all this time around.

He sucks in a breath, letting his gaze stare shamelessly at your exposed breasts. He leans forward and kisses each one softly. It’s a tender, gentle touch that you wouldn’t have expected from a co-star doing his job. “Hugh…”

He hums, his lips still grazing over your chest with no rest.

“Why are you… Do you need to tell me something?” you ask softly.

Hugh takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks softly, swirling his tongue around it in a curious motion before pulling back, looking up at you in an expression of dropped reserve. All his honesty was going to come out. You could tell from the look on his face. He didn’t even hesitate, simply looked at you, his eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other, down to your lips, and then back up again—a smooth, triangular motion. “Perhaps I’m very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it.”

“Perhaps?”

“I am very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it,” he says with a tone of finality, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does. The secret glances you’ve shared over the months of filming together, the careful, tender touches and holds at red carpets and promo interviews, the flirtatious joking and banter… You wrote everything off as friendly, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?

Hugh slides the robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor with a nearly-soundless landing. Completely exposed before him, you can’t help but feel a tad shy. Your eyes rake over Hugh’s shirtless, hairy chest and tight-fitting sweats that barely stop the hem of his boxers from peeking out above his waistline. He pulls you in closer, his fingers trailing up from the back of your leg to your waist to your stomach to your breasts to your neck to your jaw, and then back down the same way they came.

You suck in a breath as two fingers follow the crease of where your upper thigh met groin. You stifle a small, but audible moan at the chills his fingers send through you.

He hums and moves his hands to rest on your hips once again. “Is that all it takes?”

Yes.

You gasp softly when Hugh’s grip on your hips tighten before he sets you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours, essentially caging you in. He pulls his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion, kicking them off like they did something to personally offend him. You feel his erection pressing against your leg and stiffen slightly.

He leans his head down quickly, but stops just above your face, his lips grazing over yours when he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you direly.”

Your heart skips a beat and it takes you a moment to register that he’s speaking lines from the script, back in character.

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue claiming your mouth’s entrance as if it belonged there and couldn’t believe it had been away for so long. He pushes his body closer against yours, pinning you to the soft mattress as he pours all his pent-up desire and need into the kiss. It doesn’t take long for his lips to lose their way and explore other paths you have to offer. His mouth kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he goes.

“Been dreamin’ of this,” he pants, his damn good false-American voice hoarse as he kisses along your collarbone now. “Dreamin’ of havin’ you again. Been drivin’ me mad every night in the trenches, doll.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching under his touch. Every kiss felt like an invasion of privacy—but one you could very much live with. You needed to remember your lines. Come on. What was the damn line?

Right.

“You have no idea,” you gasp between kisses, his attack on your swollen lips refusing to relent even as you attempt to speak, “how many nights I’ve thought about this… About you. About us.”

He pushes a finger into your wet cunt without warning, as if rewarding you for remembering your lines so quickly this time. When had his hand even gone down there? He growls against your skin at the feel of your wetness around his finger, his free hand grasping your hip to bring you closer.

“I thought about it all the time,” he mutters, gently moving his finger back and forth in a slow pattern. His voice is ragged as he kisses along your jaw. “Thought about you, how you felt under me, how you sounded when I touched you… I was going insane with it.”

You gasp slightly between pants, but he barely lets you catch your breath before his lips are back on yours. He pulls his finger out abruptly, running it down your side, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

“Couldn’t get you out of my head,” he whispers, his voice still rough. His hand slams down against the space of mattress beside your head, a temporary loss of temper on display. Right. This is his character, you remind yourself. “Damn it, doll, I fuckin’ need you. I need to feel you, to taste you… I need you to be mine again. Fuck the war, fuck the politics… I can’t be without you tonight. Just for tonight.”

You nod softly, the action causing your lips to separate from his. He takes the opportunity to kiss over your closed eyelid and then the top of your head—an unscripted act that leaves your face burning. “I cease to exist without you near me.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can even begin by wrapping your legs around his hips, an unscripted act to counterattack his. He groans as he feels your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. The feeling of having your thighs on either side of him, the soft flesh squishing against his hip bones, has his head spinning. He smirks against your lips, realizing his mistake but not stopping. What’s one line missed, anyway?

His hand moves down to his cock and you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel him line himself up with your entrance. Things had escalated so quickly that it had your brain reeling. Hugh leans down so his head is right beside your ear. He whispers just loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for post-production to be able to remove his out-of-character question with barely any trouble: “Is this okay?”

“I need you, Ces,” you respond, using his character’s name and hoping he’ll understand your line as an affirmative answer.

He captures your lips in a fierce kiss as he pushes into you, slow enough to give you time to both adjust and choose to back out if needed. His body involuntarily shudders at the sensation. He groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Fuck,” he gasps breathlessly, his voice hoarse and rough.

You whimper softly, the feeling of being so filled up in a way you haven’t ever experience before leaving you making a string of pathetic, soft, unscripted noises. He rubs slow circles against your hip bone with his thumb, coaxing your body into a non-tense state.

He starts to move when your body relaxes, his strokes slow and firm, his body seeking more of you. He craves you, needs you, wants to please you utterly. No amount of acting could hide how real that feeling was for him.

He pulls back slightly so he can look at your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you struggle to keep up, your breathing uneven and your brain all jumbled. You were trying so desperately to hold onto the parts of this that needed you to be an actress, but the parts that were all too real were threatening to take over.

“Look at me,” Hugh whispers, his voice low and strained with his own pleasure, his hips still rocking back and forth against yours, though slower now so as to give you some room to think. “I want to see you. I want to see how much you’ve missed this, darlin’. How much you’ve been achin’ for me, like I’ve been achin’ for you.”

That last line wasn’t in the script and you noticed that immediately. It was, however, in the book. The thought that the Hugh Jackman had read the novel before starring in the adaptation sent a shiver of affection down your spine. It was more than just lust. You wanted him bad. In more ways than one.

You open your eyes, Hugh’s face slowly blurring back into focus. The look on your face, the way you looked at him with such desperate need as you bit down a soft moan, your nails digging into the flesh of his arm, makes his heart pound. He captures your lips again, his kiss harsh as he swallows the involuntary moan you’re forced to let out.

You know there’s another line you have to deliver—and soon. But you can’t remember it. Your brain is a fuzzy mess as he picks up the pace a bit, pushing you further into the mattress. A particularly hard thrust—the motion like a punishment for your forgetfulness—has you gasp into his mouth and he groans in response.

I want you to forget the war when you’re with me. Let me take that away.

Those were her next lines. All she had to do was say them. Why couldn’t she?

Hugh thrusts into her faster now, as if chasing his own release and forgetting the matter at hand.

That’s why.

“I want—”

He swallows whatever you were going to say with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth all over again. So much for getting all your lines in. He doesn’t want to hear you say anything right now. He just wants to hear the sounds you make so he can commit them to memory in case this never happens again.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes dark and intense. “Say my name, dollface. Say it.”

Your head falls back and like a dog to a bone, his mouth connects with your neck in an instant.

“Mmm— Hugh…”

He smirks against your neck before moving his face down and biting softly on your shoulder. “Wrong one… They’ll edit that out, love.”

She catches her mistake, the bite on her shoulder serving as a snap back to reality. Or, more accurately, a snap back to her acting responsibilities as a maker of cinematic illusions. “Ces… Fuck— You feel so good…”

A shudder of desire runs through him as he hears your unscripted compliment. It does everything to him to know that he’s successfully making you feel good. He’s making you feel good. He presses a bruising kiss to your neck.

“Just like that, doll,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Tell me how good it feels…”

“S-So good,” she mumbles, her words barely coherent enough to make it into a decent movie. “Mmm— Like that…”

He feels your hands move up to the muscles of his tense, flexed bottom, your fingers digging into the flesh and dragging him closer, letting him fuck you at a deeper level. The pain of your nails in his skin only adds to the pleasure, and he’s nearly driven mad by it. It’s almost more than he can take. “Yeah? Like this?”

You nod and he moves faster, his hips slamming into yours now in a steady, primal rhythm. He’s consumed by it, the feeling, the pleasure, the utter need to have you as his, even if temporarily. He bites at your neck, your shoulder, his body giving itself to yours with every thrust.

“I’m yours, pretty. This… Everything…” he pants, punctuating each word with a deep stroke. “I’m all yours if you’ll have me forever. The war does not own me, you do.”

You’re momentarily stunned by his ability to improvise such in-character lines. The fan in you who loved the book when it was released is impressed and somewhat proud. Even with your mind a cloudy mess, you still manage to have your heart swell with admiration.

He kisses you again, hard and deep, his tongue pushing across your bottom lip before entering your mouth. He’s so eager with it that his teeth knock against yours multiple times as his tongue finds your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m never allowing you to,” you pant into his mouth.

The need, the want, within him reaches new heights. He grips your hips harder, his thrusts becoming rougher and more primal. It was like his self-control was aggressively and hatefully tossed out the fake window of the set. His hands let go of her hips, leaving behind a stinging sensation that will surely turn to bruises, and move up to the headboard behind her. You think you’re fully at his mercy now, but, really, he’s at your mercy. Completely and irrevocably. And damn if that doesn’t drive the both of you absolutely crazy.

You reach up towards the headboard in order to adjust yourself, but he stops you, wanting you to remain where you were.

“Don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers quickly, finding the right angle so he can drive into you with the headboard as his support. He holds onto the wood so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You let out a moan, louder than before. His cock twitches inside you in response, a clear sign of his enjoyment of the sound. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants.

Your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He all but moans at the sight. He releases one hand from the headboard and finds his way to your throat, gripping it just tight enough to make you gasp. He leans down and kisses your lips the softest he ever has—a stark contrast to his actions. “I love you, dollface. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You look him in the eyes as he says these lines, wondering if fiction ever does blur with reality. If so, when was that point for you two? Have you gotten there yet?

Your eyes shut on their own accord and it nearly sends him over the edge. His grip around your throat tightens as he nears his orgasm and he forces himself to let go so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. “Keep going, Hugh… Don’t stop…”

He groans at the sound of his real name in your mouth. The feel of your hands on his face, the words leaving her lips… it all sends a shiver of desire down his spine and his cock twitches involuntarily.

“Oh, God, I’m so close…” you mumble between pants, completely off-script. “Please, don’t stop.”

The sound of your pleading, you saying you’re close, nearly makes him come right then and there. His movements become more frantic and desperate. Erratic, even. His words come out in low whispers, as if they were reserved for her and not the camera. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

In a few seconds, you’re completely falling apart below him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You had no life jacket and the ocean had no mercy.

“Fuck, that’s it…” he groans as he watches you come and tighten around his cock.

Your wave of ecstasy pushes him to the brink, his own climax hitting him like a ton of heavy-hitting bricks. He groans and shudders against her, his body warm and damp.

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath. You smell of sex and sweat and everything you decide you’re strangely okay with.

“I think… I think you missed a few lines,” Hugh says, still panting slightly.

You smile at the joke, your chest rising and falling quickly, but beginning to slow down. “Maybe we’ll have to re-do it.”

“What a bloody shame.”

You grin and he pushes forward to kiss your lips without warning—the quick, sudden contact all the proof of his need for you that will remain long after the director will someday soon yell the final “Cut!” for this little film.

#hugh jackman #oneshot #smut #wolverine #fanfic

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lycandrophile · 10 months ago

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it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

#when i say i love helping people beat their fears about t this is what i mean. i will simply write a whole essay about it #some people might think it’s silly to answer a question like this so extensively #but i don’t think it is! i feel like this is a really common fear but also one i don’t see talked about much #maybe because it’s so common among cis guys that people don’t see it as a question to ask in trans spaces? idk #but i think we should talk about it more. especially when transphobes use it as a way to talk shit about t #ask answered #testosterone #hrt #ftm hrt #hair loss #trans men #transmascs

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popironrye · 8 months ago

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I've heard it said Joel Schumacher didn't want the vampire effects to hinder the good looks of the actors. I think he achieved that.

The effects are simple, not grotesque, but scary yet still very attractive.

I wish we got more clear, focused shots of the boys in full makeup for the vampires.

Like damn, even in pain Paul is one tasty creature of the night. 😍 It's got to be the wet hair.

Marko is another one I think looks the sexiest in full vampire makeup. He just pulls it off so well. 😘

Can't forget this one of Dwayne. This picture DOES things to me. 🥰

And of course, the day I don't find this man FINE is the day I go blind! 👀

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #paul the lost boys #paul tlb #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #dwayne tlb #dwayne the lost boys #david tlb #david the lost boys #vampire #vampire husband #random thoughts #discuss

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jokersfangirl84 · 1 year ago

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My mind goes into shambles every time I see him. I actually lose the ability to muster up any coherent thoughts. Frankie is my Love. He's a sweet angel who needs-no, deserves all the love and attention. I want to give him all the hugs and make him a hot meal and take care of him! ♥️

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

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drunk remus will forever be my kryptonite. like imagine him just rambling about everything and then he sees you and is like "ohmygodyouresopretty"

hannah oh em gee. drunk lovesick remus is my everything. I love u for this

summary: remus is drunk and whipped

gn!reader 0.5k words

You walk Remus to the bathroom partly because he’s so drunk he can barely walk in a straight line, and partly because you’re just as clingy as he is right now and you’re not even drunk.

Your arm is braced around his lower back as you lead him down the carpeted hallway. He’s rambling about all sorts of nonsense, and you can’t say you completely understand or even catch a single intelligible word. But it’s nice to listen to his voice. Even if it’s all slurred and sticky.

When you stop at the bathroom door, Remus is not paying attention where he’s going and tries to keep walking. You snag his wrist and pull him back.

“Remus,” you say, trying desperately not to laugh. “Bathroom’s back here, love.”

Remus staggers backwards into your side. His eyes zero in on the bathroom door and then he blinks. “Oh.”

You snort but cover it up with a fake cough. And anyway, Remus is too inebriated to hear you having a laugh at him. He twists the arm that you’ve got in your hand to grab your hand with his instead. Then he pushes the bathroom door open and tries to pull you with him.

“Remus, what are you doing?” You giggle, planting your feet firmly on the threshold and refusing to let him pull you any further.

Remus turns, a blunt, almost impatient look on his face. “I’m going to the bathroom, dove. What does it look like?”

You snort. This time you don’t even bother hiding it. “I’m not coming with you, Remus.”

Remus looks at you like you’re crazy. “What?”

You shake your head at him, very amused and very looking forward to teasing him for this for the rest of his life. “What, d’you want me to hold it?” You ask, incredulous. “I’m not coming.”

Remus pouts at you. “Baby,” he whines.

You hold your ground, even though he looks awfully cute when he’s pouting like that. “Baby,” you mock.

Remus scowls. “Fine then,” he says moodily. You know he’s not actually angry but he’s a damn good actor, even when drunk. He drops your hand and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You don’t have to wait long for him to finish. A few minutes pass and then the door opens and Remus appears again. Looking far less sullen, like he’s forgotten all about your refusal to join him in the bathroom.

“Hi,” you say, grinning.

Remus stands there with his hand on the doorknob and a halo of light around his head and blinks. Stares at you hard. Then blinks again.

“Spare me,” he murmurs.

You’re alarmed, to say the least. “What?” you giggle, “Remus, what are you talking about?”

“I swear you’ve gotten prettier since two minutes ago,” he says, and he sounds genuinely boggled. Flabbergasted. “How is that possible? Are you kidding me?”

He takes your face in his big hands and stares at you intensely. He pulls your face so close to his he could kiss you. Looks at you with big wide eyes and parted lips.

“You’re sick,” he says eventually, after a lifetime of his eyes travelling all over your face. “Why would you do this to me?”

You giggle. Your chest feels tight though you won’t tell him that. “I didn’t do anything, Remus.”

Remus huffs. “Sure you didn’t,” he says, all sarcasm. “You’re—“

You kiss him to shut him up. Purely to make him stop talking, of course, and not because his doting is making your face burn.

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saigethearies · 1 year ago

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saige’s terrortober presents…

guardian

when one of the actors at a haunted house attraction gets a little too handsy, megumi doesn’t hesitate to come to your aid.

megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

contents/warnings: non consensual groping (not from gumi), megumi and reader are in their early 20s, non-sorcerer!reader, violence, car sex, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, praise, sir kink, protective!megumi, a little hint of feral!megumi

wc: 2.1k

18+ MINORS DNI

“come on, gumi, the next walk-through starts in five minutes!”

your boyfriend sighed as he let you pull him along towards the “haunted house” you had wanted to go to for the past three weeks. he didn’t really see the fun behind seeing a bunch of people pretend to be ghosts and demons when he fought (real) ones for a living, but he digressed. you didn’t share the same extraordinary profession that he did, so these types of attractions were still a spectacle of scary excitement and adrenaline for you. megumi couldn’t deprive you of the festive halloween experiences you sought out, nor would he ever pass up a chance to spend time with you.

thus, that is how he found himself being ushered into a hallway filled with plastic cobwebs, fake blood, and red lights everywhere.

your shoulders were tense, preparing for the inevitable jumpscare of an actor dressed to resemble a ghoul, zombie, or some other sort of terror. intertwining your fingers with the ravenette at your side, the two of you continued down the path.

he knew that the whole purpose of coming here was for you to get a little scare, but megumi still couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze your hand and keep you close. this was all make-believe, he knows better than anyone, but the nerves he could sense radiating off of you were still very much real.

you yelped when an actor jumped out at you from around the corner, special effects makeup covering his face that made it look as if he was covered in gnashes. jolting back, you felt megumi’s arm wrap around your waist, keeping you from taking a tumble towards the floor. the actor receded back into the darkness he had been hiding in, leaving you to try and calm your racing heart. megumi remained as blank faced as ever, not even phased in the slightest.

“oh my goodness,” you breathed, regaining your balance.

after a few more frights, the rest of the haunted house became easier to navigate because you knew what to expect. the jumpscares weren’t as alarming anymore, and you even found yourself starting to nervously laugh out of anticipation when you knew one was coming up. your giggles even had a smile coming onto your boyfriend’s face, his chest feeling warm at the sight of you having a good time.

running out of crimson colored hallways to walk down, the two of you were finally nearing the exit of the attraction. the double doors leading outside were left open, and you could see signage pointing towards a pumpkin patch and a corn maze. you gasped in delight.

“look, gumi, we can go pick our pumpkins out!”

you took off, dashing towards the exit in excitement. megumi sighed, figuring he’d catch up to you once the two of you were out of the haunted house.

unbeknownst to you both, there was one more actor hiding in the dark, a final fright for those who bravely made it to the end.

and unfortunately for you, this guy wasn’t only a creep because of his costume.

his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol, the actor smirked when he saw you trotting towards his hiding spot. megumi wasn’t in his line of sight yet, so he had no idea he was trailing behind.

‘a pretty little thing all alone in this place?’ the sleaze thought to himself. ‘must be my lucky day.’

you shrieked when the man jumped out at you, mentally cursing yourself for not staying on your guard until the very end. oh well, at least it's all just pretend-

you felt your body freeze when a pair of gloved hands attached themselves to your chest.

“damn, aren’t you fine,” disgustingly warm breath fanned against your ear, and you felt a true scream start to tear its way up your throat only to die on your tongue when the body pressed against your back was ripped away from you.

you watched in shock as megumi shoved your assailant up against the wall, sending his fist into his face once, then twice, then three times. he kept going.

“gumi!” you yelled, trying to pull your boyfriend out of his rage-filled trance. the guy had his hands up in surrender, pleads coming from behind his mask. the shikigami summoner, however, wasn’t letting up.

you finally ran up to him, grabbing onto his elbow before he can deliver another punch. “MEGUMI! i think he got the lesson.”

dark blue eyes blinked before turning to look down at you, a frown on your face. he took note of the tremors in your grip on his arm. megumi mentally kicked himself for not checking on you first. he always sought to improve his character, but whenever he saw your safety threatened he found himself reverting back to the violence that plagued his younger years.

“love,” he began slowly, concern etched into every corner of his face.

you sniffled. “can we just get out of here?”

the sorcerer let the creep fall to the ground, crumbling up like the trash he was. placing a gentle hand on the small of your back, your boyfriend led you away from the haunted house and towards the car.

he thought about telling the site’s management, but you were clearly still shaken, so he decided for your sake he’d get you into the comfort of his audi as soon as possible. he would still report the incident later, however. that man needed to face formal consequence. beating him wasn’t enough to satisfy megumi, who swore to himself every night you fell asleep in his arms and every morning you woke up still wrapped in them that he would keep you safe from anything.

he couldn’t help but feel like he failed at that tonight.

opening the passenger door for you, megumi helped you into your seat before closing you in and getting into the car himself. he immediately turned to you.

“are you alright?”

such a stupid question to ask. of course you weren’t, the misty hue of your eyes confirmed so. he couldn't think of the right words to say in this situation, but when those always failed him, megumi resorted to the method he could always depend on to better express himself: actions.

those always spoke louder, anyways.

he reached a hand out, placing it on your thigh before giving a comforting squeeze. he knew there was a chance you may not want to be touched right now, but if you had a problem with his affections he knew you’d make it known.

a sense of accomplishment washed over him when you placed your hand on top of his. “thank you, gumi.”

“you don’t need to thank me. it’s my responsibility to protect you.”

he almost made a comment about how he should have done a better job, but he held his tongue. right now it was about you. throwing himself a pity party would do nothing to lift your spirits.

“well, i still want to say thank you,” you said, a small smile coming onto your face as you shifted towards him. “my knight in shining armor deserves some gratitude.”

megumi hummed in acceptance, the two of you sitting in silence for a minute before he spoke again.

“i hope i broke his fucking nose.”

that earned a laugh from you, catching him by surprise. “all this time i thought gojo was making up all those stories about you in middle school, but i guess i was wrong.”

“whatever he told you, please forget.”

“you know, i dont think i want to,” you said with a smirk.

now that the distress of the situation had ebbed away some, your mind was able to ponder more on your boyfriend going full fight club on the guy. seeing him get aggressive like that was honestly…very sexy. you couldn’t really appreciate in the moment, but now reminiscing on the wild semblance in his eyes and the sheer force behind his hits had your thighs starting to press together.

megumi noticed the gesture when he felt his fingers become squished between your thighs. he raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“do you want something from me?” he asked, the heat of your skin paired with the adrenaline from earlier sending his brain into overdrive.

you pouted your lip out at him. “want you to touch me, ‘gumi.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, sir. need you to make me feel better, please.”

the title made his cock twitch in his pants. the hand that had been resting on your thigh slowly began to glide up your skin, dipping under the hem of your skirt and gingerly tracing the edge of the lace covering your heat.

he saw you start to squirm in your seat, chest puffing out at the effect he had on your body. finally slipping a finger into your panties, his index drew slow circles around your clit.

your head tipped back against the seat, a breathy whine leaving you. the appendage doting on your bud then drifted down into your cunt, his middle finger joining as well. he pumped them at a steady fast, beginning to pick up speed once they started to reach deeper.

“fuck, that feels so good, sir!”

“yeah? ‘m glad, love.”

he could feel your pussy start to soak his fingers, the mess between your legs growing wetter by the second. it would probably get on the seat, but he could worry about that later. right now his sweet girl needed him.

you felt the coil in your gut begin to tighten, megumi’s fingers continuing to fuck you open. he knew how to use them so well, years of summoning his shikigami paying off with the most dexterous fingers you’ve ever had the pleasure of welcoming into your cunt.

thus, imagine your disappointment when you felt his hand detach from your heat.

before you could protest, you felt his arousal-coated fingers prod at your lower lip.

“clean them,” he gently commanded.

you did as you were told, taking the appendages into your mouth as your tongue swept up your own glaze. you released them with a pop.

“such a good girl.”

you let out a small squeak of surprise as you felt megumi easily lift you from your seat and bring you into his lap, chests pressed together.

“good girls deserve to cum on a cock, yeah?”

you nodded quickly, excitement rattling you at the thought of getting filled up.

megumi slid his pants down below his hips, freeing his aching dick from his boxers before pushing your thong to the side.

“sit on it, love.”

lowering yourself onto his cock, you moaned as you felt the familiar stretch. he always stuffed you so perfectly, the heat in your stomach already starting to pool at the sensation.

moving your head to rest in the crook of his neck, megumi placed both of his hands on your hips. he began to move you up and down on his lap as if you were weightless, jackhammering up into your pussy whenever he brought you back down. you practically screamed when you felt how deep he was going.

your boyfriend was panting. god, you always felt so perfect around him. he was never sure what he thought about the idea of fate or soulmates, but everytime you welcomed him into your cunt, he could have sworn you were made for each other.

his lovesick thoughts led his thrusts to become harder, megumi’s sole focus being to ensure you could feel how much you meant to him through every grip of his fingers, every breath from his lips, every plunge of your pelvises.

“i love you,” he whispered into your ear, eyes practically blown feral. “damn, i love you so much. forever and always. gonna keep you safe, gonna keep you happy- fuck.”

you mewled at all the pussydrunk confessions tumbling out of him. “love you, too, gumi! love you, love you- ah!”

his tip hitting that golden spot now, your legs starting to shake around his.

“if i ever see someone touch you again, i’m putting them six feet fucking under.”

“nng, sir!”

“you’re mine.”

the dam finally broke, your cunt clamping down on his dick as your orgasm tore through you as if it were a monsoon. the sensation of you creaming around him sent your boyfriend over the edge next, megumi filling you up as you continued to be flooded with pleasure.

the two of you sat there in content quiet, megumi running his hand up your back to try and soothe you as you both recovered. you lifted your head up, gazing at him with droopy eyes.

“did you mean it?”

his brow furrowed. “mean what?”

“putting someone six feet under. would you actually do it?”

he wrapped you in an embrace, bringing your tired body to rest against his.

“without hesitation.”

———

saige’s terrortober masterlist

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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lurkingshan · 17 days ago

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Random QL Superlatives: 2024 Edition

My friends! It is time once again to reflect back on the year and give out some random ass awards to the things that gave me joy in the many QLs I watched.

In no particular order, this year’s winners:

Best Long Term Glow Up: Off Jumpol as Jane in The Trainee

I've been simping for Jumpol since the Puppy Honey days, because I know potential when I see it! This year the rest of y'all finally caught up with me and realized this man is aging like a fine wine. We all won!

Most Valuable Prop: Aoyanagi Hajime Standee, I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama

Will anything ever make me laugh as hard as Akafuji opening the door to Aoyanagi Hajime while holding an Aoyanagi Hajime standee and then running for his life, standee tucked under his arm, to escape the mortification? If so, it's def another joke from this show.

Best Heart Destroying Angst: Every Moment of Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Sometimes you just want a show to break your heart into a million tiny pieces and then stitch it back together, and there is no better version of that experience this year than this beautiful show.

Wackiest Premise That Somehow Works: Caged Again

Whomst could have predicted that a BL about a penguin who turns into a human, goes to high school, and falls in love with a panther would be one of the sweetest, most compelling stories of the year.

Most Precious Bean: Taishin, Takara's Treasure

Just look at his cute little face!! My son has never done anything wrong in his life. He's adorable and I won't hear a word against him.

Drama Child of the Year: Young San, Century of Love

My soul fully tried to leave my body every time this child appeared on screen. I must congratulate this child actor--his name is Chayanan Akkharadumrongdet--on perfectly embodying the spirit of an old man trapped in a tiny body. Give this boy an award!

Best Love Theme: Di Inakala by Paul Pablo, Marahuyo Project

youtube

Such a gorgeous song, first used while King reads Ino's letter and realizes Ino has feelings for him. Hits me right in the chest every time I hear it.

Best Sex Scene - Almond and Latte's first time, Knock Knock Boys

Everyone else can throw in the towel, this is the best depiction of a loving but awkward first time that will ever be committed to film.

Star of My Vision Board: Yako, She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat

Oprah said it best: “She is the mother I never had, she is the sister everybody would want. She is the friend that everybody deserves. I don't know a better person.”

Outstanding Achievement in Old Man Yaoi: Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

It's not every day that a show manages to sell you on a 20+ year age gap, but this one did it without breaking a sweat and had us all rooting for Ishida to eat that old man up with a spoon.

Best Sight Gag: Rock Lifting Karan Over His Shoulder, Cherry Magic Thailand

Is it the way Rock bends down and grabs him with no warning? The way Karan still does a polite wai over his shoulder? The way Dujdao scurries after them? Idk but it's been 10 months and I am still laughing.

Best Absolute Mindfuck: Love for Love's Sake

Sometimes a scene from this drama will flash through my mind and I'll have to spend a few minutes just staring at the wall, and that's how you know it was damn good.

Most Brainrot Inducing: Unknown

The way this story had a chokehold on my brain for three entire months was no joke.

Swooniest Love Interest: Mahasamut, Love Sea

Just look at this glorious man! And on top of all that visual splendor, he's kind and generous and brave and smart and competent and high key a smart ass. In this house we love Mahasamut!

Best Classic Watch: The Miracle of Teddy Bear

The most delightfully surprising watch of the year for me, and a great reminder to never, ever trust anything MDL commenters say about a show.

Y'all know the drill: feel free to join in and post your own superlatives, and please tag me if you do!

#bl superlatives 2024 #the trainee #i became the main role of a bl drama #let free the curse of taekwondo #caged again the series #century of love #knock knock boys #cherry magic th #love for love's sake #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #love sea the series #unknown the series #mr mitsuyas planned feeding #the miracle of teddy bear #takara no vidro #marahuyo project #shan shouts into the void

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earthpleasures · 9 months ago

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SIMP OF CENTURY !

Percy Jackson x fem!child of nyx!reader

Summary: Your reserved personality sparked curious thoughts in Percy's mind for years. Whenever he tried to get close to you, it backfired on him. But Hero of Olympus was never taught to give up.

Warnings: swearing, reader described as having 'night-like dark eyes'

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I haven't watched the pjo show, which means Percy's character and looks are based off the books. Louis is just a fan cast. I adore Walker, and I think he's such a good actor. So if you wish to imagine Percy as show Percy, you're free to do so! <3

dividers by: @benkeibear

"when I saw her walking down the street

she looked so fine, I just had to speak.

i asked her name but she turned away"

- mmm yeah by austin mahone, pitbull.

Everyone in the Camp Half-blood liked Percy Jackson, the most influential figure of the Second Titan War. Y/n did too, but not in the way young boy wanted. She saw him as a hero, no more of that. Which made Percy yap about her next to Annabeth's ear. Blonde could swear goddamn Seaweed Brain had no fucking dignity when it comes to Y/n.

Being one of the children of Nyx, she was powerful. She was powerful yet in the background. He still remembered the scary ass encounter he had with her mother, Goddess of Night warning him to stay away from her daughter.

Percy ‘impertinent’ Jackson never obeyed a word of Gods, said goddess being a primordial goddess didn't change his view of Immortals. Of course he was a little scared though, not of a goddess but of an angry and protective mother.

“To left! TO LEFT! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUYS FORGET ABOUT Y/N!?” Connor screamed his lungs out as Y/n ran to the red flag. Her keeping quiet for most of the game caused all other red team members to forget about the girl's presence.

Percy took a breath as he charged towards her. His sword touched her back, threatening her to step away from the flag. “C'mon, stars. We both know how this is gonna end.” She wet her lips and sighed. “Yeah, whatever.” She stepped away from the flag. Percy was about to smirk with victory when she rushed towards the flag again.

Without thinking a second, he threw his body over hers, preventing her from grabbing handle. “What the fuck Jackson!?” Her angry voice rang through the area as they rolled on the soil together. His legs straddled her. “Looks like we ended up on top of each other again.” He said, referring to all other games. Y/n narrowed her eyes as her lower suddenly lifted from the ground and threw the boy over her body. “Arrogant bastard.”

She ran to the flag without allowing herself to catch her breath, leaving Percy behind who's groaning with pain on his back. “Damn, girl. It hurted.” He mumbled as he stood up. Last thing he saw was Y/n smirking at him with her knuckles wrapped around the handle of the red flag. She let herself fall into the shadows of the flag tower and mix into the darkness.

She was only child of Nyx that could shadow travel properly and was allowed use it only once during game since it would be unfair to other campers and game wouldn't really have a meaning as long as she played. And of course she kept it for this moment.

He cursed as he heard the honk announce the victors, tearing a few pieces of grass and throwing them to air. “Well, at least we had physical contact…” He pouted, trying to console himself.

“Hey, what's up, stars? Drawing the moon again? Can I see it? Please?” He spoke quickly, afraid she would disappear into darkness as usual. Girl looked up to him from her sketchbook. Sparks of little stars illuminated her night-like dark eyes, passed to her from Nyx.

“Don't you have better things to do, Jackson? Training new kids, doing your shit as one of the ‘Counselors’? Or better, go mourn your loss and your back.”

Her voice was bitter as ever. Y/n didn't really have any friends in camp. It wasn't that she had distaste for others, socializing wasn't her thing at all. However she never acted rude when someone reached her for help. Only ‘friends’ she had were her siblings. Being their counselor, they had to speak to their oldest sister even if they didn't want to.

He narrowed his eyes. “That's rude. You almost broke a few of my ribs.” Y/n raised her eyebrows with eraser on her hand. She spoke while getting rid of a crocked line from the white paper.

“Sounds like a you problem, my ribs seem to be perfectly fine.”

“And also, looking at my schedule, I have all day for you.” He smiled, green eyes reflecting the sunshine. She gave him an uninterested stare. “Good for you then?” Percy knew damn well that expression on her face. She's going to disappear again. He exclaimed her name. His fingers wrapped around her wrist before she became one with shadows.

He shadow traveled before, he knew the feeling. But it didn't relax his senses as his reflexes screamed to kick and escape. When they arrived at their destination, it was dark everywhere. His brows furrowed unintentionally. “Where are we?” Y/n looked really troubled with his presence being next to her. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Why would you stick to my wrist like a leech!?” He smirked at her distressed state.

“Only a leech for your attention.” He winked.

“If you keep talking like a fuckboy, you will experience my affection right on your cheek in a very violent way.”

“Yes ma'am.”

He put his hands to his hips as he inspected their surroundings. Giant green pine trees were surrounding them, not a sound coming from the forest besides wind hitting branches. “So, back to my previous question, where are we?”

She bit her lower lip as if she didn't wanna answer the question asked. “Uh, we're kind of… on the other side of the world?” Percy's face went completely blank. “What?”

“We're in a country where it's night right now.” He stared at the moon shining above them, the weather was clear enough to see the stars with bare eyes. “Really? That's quite exciting, which country are we in?” She thought for a second.

“Turkey.” He couldn't help but snort. She pressed her lips together at the strange choking sound he let out. “If you're going to make that immature ass joke I am gonna leave you here and never come back.” He tried to retain his serious look after hearing her not-so-fully-threat sentence. He knew she would actually leave him here with no mercy.

“Okay, okay. Jokes aside, this forest is the definition of peace.” She looked around them, smiling at the beautiful view while inhaling the clear oxygen. “Beautiful places are always hidden by the ugliness of metropolises.” His gaze locked on her rarely seen eased-up face. “Yeah, it's beautiful…”

“I travel to places where it's night whenever I feel the pressure of a stressful day or when I am trying to escape your boyish remarks.” Percy put a hand on his chest and fake gasped. “How dare you call them boyish? I put my whole heart into them!” She let out a low toned giggle, keeping quiet to not to disturb the rest of the animals.

“I apologize for my rudeness, Mr. Jackson. I haven't noticed that you poured your heart into wasted attempts of flirting.” Percy sat on a fallen log, tip of his foot digging into fresh soil. “They're not wasted attempts. Nothing is wasted when I do it for you.”

For the first in their years of banters, Y/n was taken aback. “I… appreciate your efforts Percy. But I just don't get what makes me so valuable in your eyes. I am not the strongest swordsman in camp, or the most beautiful girl around. I don't return your flirts or compliments. It's strange to see you never give up on… me.”

Percy looked into the depths of her eyes, green eyes holding more than just interest ignited in his heart. “I don't care about how beautiful or how strong you're. I care about who you are. I care about the girl who can't help but chuckle when she sees owls flying around her, I care about the girl who helps anyone in need of her, I care about the girl who makes incredible drawings.” With languid movements, he stood up from the log he was settled on. His calloused hands gently reached to her, fingers interlocking with hers.

“I always kept my efforts on you because you never said anything about me harassing you. If I ever sensed you being uncomfortable around me to the point you can't stand my presence, I would've stopped. Hope kept me going.” Her confused expression softened as his sentences progressed. She could feel her eyes watering, tears were ready to overflow and roll down on her cheeks.

“Percy…” His finger rubbed her palm, grayness from the pencil smearing his thumb too. “I am so sorry Y/n. For making you feel distressed in a place where you should be secure from all threats. I've never been flawless and i-”

His eyes shoot open when soft, cold lips pressed against his. Her hands clutched on his orange t-shirt, eyes closed as she let herself get lost in sensation. Soon enough, he came to his senses too, hands flying to cup her cheeks.

When they parted he laid her forehead against hers, she let out a chuckle. “You look so red, like my rose drawings.” He embraced her, not giving an answer to her teasing. All he needed was to feel her skin against his and inhale the scent he has been longing for years. His face buried on the crook of her neck. “Y/n?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes?”

“I think I am gonna faint cause my heart is beating abnormally fast.”

“What- PERCY! OH MY GODS!”

Her shock filled shriek echoed through the whole forest, six feet tall Percy Jackson collapsed on her. “Are you kidding me!?” She did the first thing that came into her mind, took him back to Camp Half-blood.

Percy opened his eyes, the ceiling of the cabin welcomed him. “Fuck, it was all a dream again.”

“Woah, you dream about me?”

Young boy let out an almost girlish scream as he pulled his blanket over his chest like he tried to protect his pudicity. Y/n grimaced. “Goddammit Percy, roosters are amateurs next to you.” His ragged breath slowed down when he saw the very face that was the star of his ‘dream’.

“You aren't dreaming, I kissed you, so-”

“WE'RE DATING NOW!?”

And that was how all residents of Camp Half-blood learned about their relationship.

Upcoming days, Percy was like a limb of her. Eighty percent of his time was spent with her, the other twenty percent he was yapping about her to Grover and the rest of the Seven.

Contrary to what she thought, days turned weeks, weeks turned months, months turned years. Percy kept torturing everyone around him about his girlfriend, his fiancée and his wife.

And maybe they weren't Immortal, but through generations, Camp Half-blood remembered the lovesick couple of 21th century.

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo fluff #fluff

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