#i will never get over the details in it and how meticulously well done it is

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

i wanted to look into what kind of car is used in the batman (2022) because i loved how real it is compared to other adaptations and i just have to share some bits from this article from screen rant because it is so perfect

[loulovingho]

Can you please do a hurt/comfort Eddie + Tommy friendship with Bucktommy - Tommy gets hurt in some way (mentally/physically/sick/etc) and Eddie helps him until Buck can get there

you gave me a reason to finish the fic I started earlier today! thank you!

His teeth were chattering. Had been since he woke up after hitting the ground.

He didn't hurt anywhere, which was never a good sign.

He laid there, surrounded by trees. Cold, wet leaves underneath his body. He could hear crickets and frogs all around him. Could smell smoke somewhere nearby.

There were distinct sounds of metal creaking mixed in with nature.

Slowly, he moved his head to the right, then to the left.

Fire.

It was about fifty yards away. Thankfully, due to the recent rain, the fire was contained to the helicopter that had so gracefully fallen out of the sky.

He wasn't sure how he ended up so far from it. Had no memory of being ejected or jumping or whatever happened that made it so he wasn't inside those flames.

He lifted his hands to his face, could barely see them as the sun set below the trees. He was sure there was blood. Dirt, mud, leaves, and blood.

They shook so fiercely he wasn't sure how he had any control over them at all.

His breathing was labored, heart beating rapidly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to calm himself down.

Suddenly, in the distance, he heard something.

People talking.

Not just people, familiar people.

Family.

“H- Here,” he barely managed to get out, figuring they'd be running toward the fire instead of him. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Here! I'm here!”

The talking stopped, then there was running.

He could feel the pounding of the footsteps as they approached.

“Hey, we gotcha, Buddy!”

“Howie?”

“Yeah, it's me. Saving your ass, once again.”

Hands were on him now. Lights shining in his eyes, causing him to squint. He could hear others talking. Hen, Eddie, Bobby. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

Chimney had him focus on him. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“T- Tommy,” he answered. God, he wished he could stop shaking. He couldn't barely get out a word.

“Year?”

“2024.”

“Best paramedic you know?”

“Hen,” Tommy replied, choking out a laugh.

“Hey now!” Chimney exclaimed, mocking offense.

“I knew I liked you,” Hen said with a smile. She patted him on the shoulder before getting back to work.

Chimney chomped on his gum a couple times before asking his next question. “Can you wiggle your toes for me, Tommy?”

Tommy shook his head. He lifted his arm, tried to pull Chimney closer to him so he could whisper. “I c- can't feel anything,” he paused, sucked in a shaky breath, “b- below my waist.” He knew what this meant, and he also knew he was in shock. The adrenaline pumping through him was the only thing keeping him remotely alert.

Chimney nodded, sharing a glance with Hen. “Cervical collar for our dashing pilot here, please, Hen.”

“Already on it.”

“Ho- Howie?”

“Yeah, Buddy?”

“Ev- Evan?”

“Buck went home early today,” Eddie answered, moving into Chimney's place so he could do whatever work needed to be done. “Chief is cracking down on overtime, so he had to be sent home.”

“We've... We've been sa- saving f- for the wedding,” he explained, although he wasn't sure why. Everyone there already knew that.

Eddie took Tommy's hand and wrapped it up in his own. “You were probably already up in the air when Buck sent you the text complaining about being sent home.”

“He'd say... He'd say th- the chief didn't want us t- to have the good hors d'oeuvres.”

Eddie nodded, tried putting on a smile. “He did mention that on his way out.”

Tommy squeezed Eddie's hand. “We m- might have to re... reschedule.” His lip trembled at the thought, tears welling in his eyes. Evan was so excited for the wedding. Had been working diligently and meticulously on every detail since they got engaged in October. He wanted a winter wedding, and didn't want to wait another whole year, so February it would be. With it being December now, Tommy didn't see any way he'd be able to fully recover by then.

If he did at all.

“Let's not worry about that right now, alright, Man? I don't think Buck will care when the wedding is, as long as there is one. Let's focus on that, okay?”

Tommy nodded. Blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.

A few fell anyway.

“Ed- Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I... Do I still have my legs?”

“You certainly do, Kinard,” Bobby interrupted. Tommy wasn't sure how long the captain had been on his other side. Bobby gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You've got all your limbs right where they should be. You ready to move now, Kid?”

Tommy could've laughed at the nickname. He'd been called that by Bobby a couple of times, many years ago. It'd been a long while since then.

He nodded. “Ready.”

Eddie didn't let go of his hand as they lifted him and began carrying him to the ambulance. Tommy was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever being moved onto the spine board. Hadn't felt a thing.

A part of him had wondered if they'd even been working on him during that time. That maybe Eddie was the chosen distraction until he drifted off and his breathing stopped.

He was glad to know he was wrong.

*****

Bobby drove them to the hospital, with Eddie staying in the back beside him. It was a bit cramped with him, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen all back there together, but the fact he was surrounded by these people made him feel a bit more comforted.

Tommy looked over to where his and Eddie's hands were still tightly gripped together. He wasn't sure if Eddie was refusing to let him go, or if he was refusing to let Eddie go. Didn't really matter either way. He needed something to keep him tethered to reality.

He shook his wrist back and forth a few times to get Eddie's attention. “Can you... Can you call Evan? Please?”

“Of course,” Eddie replied, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.

“You've got some cuts on your arms, Tommy,” Hen explained as Eddie pressed Buck's name. “We're gonna work on those on the way to the hospital, so you might feel some stings, okay?”

“Yeah. That's okay.”

Eddie put the phone on speaker and Buck answered on the third ring. “What's wrong?”

“Buck-”

“Who is it, Eddie? I just left work an hour ago. Is it Bobby? Hen? Chim?”

Tommy took a deep breath. “B- Baby.”

Silence.

Then.

“Tommy? Is that you?”

“Had a... a little accident.”

“What hospital?”

“The usual,” Eddie replied.

“I'm heading there now.”

“Evan? Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, wanting to get his attention before he got in the car and started to drive.

“I'm here, Tommy,” he answered. “I'm gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“I don't wanna... wanna scare you,” Tommy said, and he could feel the tears burning his eyes again. “I can't. I can't feel my legs.”

“He's stabilized,” Chimney added quickly, before Buck could ask. “Likely a lower spinal cord injury.”

Another pause, followed by a quiet. “Okay. Okay.”

“He's doing well, Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “We're all right here with him. He won't shut up about you, like always.”

Tommy smiled. He hoped Evan did as well.

“Feeling's mutual,” Buck replied. His voice was softer now. Tommy knew the words were meant to keep him focused and thinking positively.

It worked.

“Need you t- to be safe.”

“I will, Baby. I'll drive safe and I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. L- Love you.”

“I love you, too. So damn much, T- Tommy.”

Tommy wasn't sure who hung up first, but he could tell by the way Evan's voice wavered at the end that he was probably close to falling apart.

“Thank you,” Tommy said as Eddie put his phone back into his pocket.

“Whatever you need, Bud, I'm here.”

“Just... Just keep ho- holding my hand.”

Eddie nodded, squeezed a little tighter. “I can do that.”

[ooffies]

Brushing their hair!

author's note: hi everyone! It's been awhile since I last wrote but I've been itching to post/write again. This has been sitting in my drafts for like a four months so don't mind if it's a bit rough. I hope you enjoy!!! :)

Characters: Leona & Jamil

Warning: None!

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s long, silky hair was always such a treat to brush. Sure, it takes a very long time to work through but he enjoys these rare chances to relax. You enjoyed it as well, perhaps even more! Finding any excuse to allow your boyfriend to take a break.

If you’re not brushing his hair first thing in the morning, more likely than not all the tangles will already have been brushed out. During the day he is often busy scampering from place to place, either housewarden duties or student activities. So, this activity is often reserved for the end of the day, allowing you both to unwind from the stress from the day.

This activity is often spent in a comfortable silence. Jamil’s eyes closed, muscles relaxed and sitting cross-legged on his bed. He simply enjoys your company, the feelings of your fingers and the brush running through his hair. In an almost sleep-like state but never actually falling asleep. Causal small talk isn’t unwelcome though, he enjoys hearing the little details about your day, recent gossip or whatever stupid shenanigans the headmage put you up to. But he often doesn’t talk much about his day unless asked, preferring to be the listener since you are the most interesting thing to him.

As much as it was a treat, brushing Jamil’s hair was a task you had to be meticulous about. Well… It was more like you wanted to be meticulous about it. Making sure to gently brush through every long strand with utmost care and precision. And once you were done, he’d lay his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through it and braiding it as you please

Brushing hair is a mutual form of affection with him! Although he never outright asks to do it, he will always do it when you ask him. Or if he sees you have a tangle, he’ll just grab the brush without a word and get to work. But styling your hair is his favorite! For whatever type of hair texture you have, Jamil has learned to work with it. Memorizing all different braids, twists and other things you enjoy having done to your hair.

Leona Kingscholar:

More often than not, this man has tangles in his hair, despite it mostly looking flawless on the outside. Just lift up a few layers of his thick hair and you’ll find yourself a tangle or two. He enjoys the pampering of getting his hair brushed by you. He will complain if you brush too hard but he’s never too serious about it.

You can brush his hair whenever really. While hanging out in his room or the gardens, helping him put it up for spell drive practice, you kinda have free reign over it. But he will only ever let you style it to your heart’s content when you're in private. Sure, throw it up into the occasional ponytail or redo his braids in-between classes but pigtails and all those cute clips you have are only to be put on in either of your rooms, far, far away from the public eye. He’ll surely complain about how stupid and childish pigtails look on him but will he stop you? No, he won’t. Cause you're his beloved partner and you're giving him affection. It’s your partner privileges to play with his hair as you please! Just make sure to give him a little extra smooch or two while at it if you want less complaining on his end.

If he’s not napping while you're brushing his hair, you two are chatting away. He prefers listening to you talk but he’ll still be willing to tell you more about his day as well. This chit chat can range from basic chatter to discussing future plans and dreams. Or maybe it’ll take the direction of something nostalgic like childhood stories or something silly like the stupid prick who kept beating him on an online chess website. Whatever it is, he’ll never miss the chance to talk with you!

© ooffies 

Please do not repost or translate my work without permission and credit. Thank you!

Other links:

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[cupidscorpsee]

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.

[shizuturnspages]

Hii Love your yan works!! Wondering if I could request a scenario where darling(gender neutral would be great<3) , utterly frustrated, just snaps. Angry, maybe a bit violent (telling the yan/char off too) and their reactions to this. the sumeru boys if you could :) (sethos included ofc) tysm!!

(alsoo can I be 🐲anon :D, if u don't have like an anon system it's finee)

Ofccc

I tried my best to portray a frustrated darling. Here it is:

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is never caught off guard—until now. He’s always so sure of his logic, so convinced that his calm reasoning will sway you. And yet, here you are, snapping like a live wire, anger blazing as you tell him off for treating you like some part of a research project he’s working on.

“I am not one of your little experiments, Alhaitham!” You slam your hands on the desk, making every paper, every precious note he keeps meticulously organized, scatter.

Alhaitham’s reaction? He raises an eyebrow, that usual collected look faltering for a second. “Your outburst is…unexpected,” he says slowly, like he’s still processing this glorious rage you’re unleashing on him.

But you’re not backing down. “You think you know everything about me, huh? As if watching me like some science project gives you the right to dictate my life! Well, newsflash, it doesn’t.”

He just blinks at you, taking in the harsh words. And—damn it—he seems intrigued. Almost like he’s analysing you, savouring every bit of this rare outburst. When you’re done, breathing heavily, he gives a soft chuckle, leaning closer. “If I didn’t care about you,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with something dark, “I wouldn’t bother trying to understand you so thoroughly. But, please, go on… I’m listening.”

The soft, gentle way Tighnari usually approaches everything takes a sharp turn when you finally reach your boiling point. He’s been hovering again, watching you like a hawk, questioning your every move, worrying over every detail. You’ve had enough.

Tighnari

“Stop! Just stop!” you shout, pacing in frustration as you wave your arms in the air. “I don’t need your constant surveillance, Tighnari! I’m not some fragile thing you have to keep an eye on every second!”

Tighnari blinks in surprise, his typically calm expression faltering. He doesn’t know how to respond at first, clearly caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “I… I was only trying to help. You’ve been acting strange lately, and I—”

“Strange?” you cut him off, glaring at him. “I’m not strange, I’m frustrated! You make me feel like I’m one step away from breaking at any given moment, always hovering, always watching. I’m fine, Tighnari! Stop treating me like I’m about to fall apart!”

His ears twitch as he processes your words, the warmth in his eyes turning into something more intense. His lips part, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to apologize, but then his eyes narrow, a defensive streak flaring up.

“Maybe I’m just trying to care for you,” he says quietly, but there’s an edge to his tone now. “If you’d let me, I could help you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I hate seeing you like this.”

“I don’t need your help, Tighnari!” you snap, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I’m not some project for you to fix! You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temple with one hand. “I get it, okay? But you’re not leaving me any choice, are you?” His voice softens, but there's a steely undertone now. "I won't stop looking out for you, whether you want it or not."

Your frustration with Kaveh’s relentless, overbearing affection reaches a boiling point. He’s been fussing, hovering over you like you’re some delicate object that needs his constant attention.

Kaveh

“Back off, Kaveh! I’m not some fragile doll you can keep wrapped around your finger!" You yell at the top of your lungs as you shove him away from you.

Kaveh stumbles back, taken aback by the force in your words, his usual confident swagger faltering for the first time. His eyes widen in shock, and his lips part as if he's about to apologize—but then the sheer intensity of your anger seems to hit him like a wave.

"Wait, what?" he stammers, trying to make sense of your outburst. He looks around, as if hoping the room itself will offer some kind of explanation. "I—I thought I was doing the right thing! I just... I care about you! I didn’t think you’d—"

“Care about me?!” you interrupt, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think coddling me, making every decision for me, is love? You’re just trying to keep me on a leash, Kaveh. That’s not love, that’s control!”

Kaveh’s expression falters, hurt flashing across his features before it’s replaced with frustration. He takes a step forward, voice trembling slightly but with a hint of defensiveness. “I never meant it like that! I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I never—”

“You never thought!” you retort, your chest heaving as you struggle to contain the rage. “You never thought about what I want, what I need! You just assumed you know best. You’re suffocating me!”

Kaveh’s face softens, the hurt in his eyes giving way to guilt, but there’s still a spark of stubbornness left. “I... I never wanted to hurt you,” he mutters quietly, looking down, his shoulders slumping. “I just wanted to protect you from... from the world.”

But you’re done being patient. “I don’t need your protection, Kaveh! I need my freedom. And if you can’t give that to me, then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this at all.”

He looks crushed, but there’s something behind his eyes now—regret, yes, but also a deeper, more possessive undercurrent. He takes a slow breath, standing straighter, as if bracing himself. “If it comes to that… I guess I’ll just have to remind you how much you need me,” he says quietly, almost dangerously. His words hang in the air, a silent threat, but for a brief second, you see the raw emotion behind them.

For all Cyno’s jokes and smirks, you finally reach your limit. He’s always around, hovering like a shadow with that damn teasing grin. And for once, you just want him gone.

Cyno

“I’m done, Cyno!” you yell, voice thick with anger. “Just stop with the jokes, stop with the games, and stop watching me like a hawk! I don’t need a babysitter.”

He freezes mid-step, his grin gone, replaced by a serious expression that’s almost unreadable. “It was never about babysitting,” he says quietly, his eyes narrowing. But you’re past the point of caring. “No, it’s about you wanting control, Cyno. You need to know everything—where I am, who I’m with—you don’t own me!”

The tension in the room rises, and he watches you carefully. “Control isn’t the issue,” he finally says, his voice softer than you expect. “But I won’t apologize for making sure you’re safe.” He steps closer, his hand lingering by your shoulder, almost hesitant. “But,” he adds, leaning down to meet your gaze, “if you really feel that strongly about it, make me leave.”

With Sethos, it’s not just overprotection; it’s the possessive need to have you near, almost like a shadow clinging too close. He’s silent, watching, trailing after you with that unnerving devotion that makes it impossible to breathe sometimes. And today, you’ve had enough.

Sethos

“Will you just… back off for one damn minute, Sethos!” you shout, your patience snapping like a twig.

Sethos, unbothered, simply tilts his head, that cryptic, soft smile unfaltering. “Why should I? If I give you space, you’ll just wander off where I can’t protect you.”

You can feel yourself shake with frustration. “I don’t need protecting! And I sure as hell don’t need you lurking around every corner!” You take a step forward, jabbing a finger at him, your voice dangerously low. “Do you even get how suffocating you are?”

His smile wavers—just a flicker—and his eyes darken. He steps closer, a shadow casting over his expression. “Suffocating?” he whispers. “No, love… I’m keeping you safe. But if it’s suffocating you… well, that’s just unfortunate.” His fingers brush your cheek, cold, and possessive. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[binniebakery]

​🇦​​🇳​​🇬​​🇪​​🇱​🦢

Bf!Taehyun x Fem!Reader Est. Relationship

♡ Warnings: very suggestive! sir kink, little bit of degradation (reader gets called a whore, angel, etc), little bit of exhibitionism mentioned as well, lmk if i missed something! ♡ A/N: i honestly forgot ppl were asking for more coquette tubatu... so ask and u shall receive smile. i rewrote this so many times too because I've been going through a period where i hate everything i write sdfgddfss so please be kind (i also know nothing about cars.. be warned.)

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Smarty" by Lana Del Rey

0:09 ━●────────── 4:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

——-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹——-

As stars began to bloom in the night sky, you meticulously glided your lipstick across those pretty plump lips of yours. Your room was filled with the scent of apple cinnamon along with a hint of slight smoke from the iron that you were using to form soft curls into your delicate hair.

Your pretty eyelashes fluttered shut as you hummed the tune of your favorite song, your heart soaring in excitement at the thought of your boyfriend coming over in his new car to take you out on a date.

With hair soft and neat, pretty heels in perfect combination with your lacey mini skirt and top, and your nails freshly done in pretty white and pink details, you sprinkle yourself in your favorite perfume. Fresh vanilla, something your boyfriend just couldn’t resist when you were in the vicinity.

A buzz from your phone interrupts your thoughts and you look over to see your boyfriend’s name displayed across your screen.

“Tyunnie!” You smile, your voice cheery as you practically jump in your chair from the excitement of knowing he was on the other line.

“Hi angel, I’m here. You ready?” Taehyun’s low voice mixed with the sound of his car engine as it rumbled in the background.

“Course I am! Coming out right now!” You chirp as you grab your purse, the sound of your expensive heels clicking against the floor while you skip out of your room.

“Good girl, see you right now then.” Taehyun ends the call with a click.

Taehyun is already standing outside of his brand-new car by the time you reach him. He watches you with a slight smirk, eyes following your every movement as you gracefully make your way to his car.

A black Porsche. A perfect match to your boyfriend’s polished and sleek appearance.

“Like my new car baby?” Taehyun tilts his head, his voice a saccharine tone.

“It’s pretty, looks expensive..” You stand in front of your boyfriend, letting him wrap his arms around your waist as he pulls you in.

“Yeah, you think so?… It’ll never be as pretty as my angel though” Taehyun mumbles into your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses from under your ear to your collarbone.

Your breath hitches as you feel his teeth nip pretty purple flowers onto your delicate skin.

“Mm, tyun wait– let’s wait till we get to the d– drive in..”

You attempt to lean away, but the way his strong hands firmly hold you against him has your stomach tied in knots. Taehyun takes in the scent of your sweet perfume and smiles.

“Smell so good I could take you right now baby”

You let out a whine and Taehyun takes it as his sign to pull away before he gets carried away. Your boyfriend grins at the way your face is flushed, lips formed into the cutest pout.

His pretty, pretty girl.

Taehyun opens the door to his car and you slide into your spot as passenger princess, taking in the black leather interior and fresh scent of a brand new car. Your cute little heels were a sweet contrast to the dark aesthetic you were sitting in.

“You ready to see how fast this goes, angel?” he tilts his head towards you as the engine of his car purrs.

Taking your doe eyes off of the mirror, you bat your lashes as you turn to him.

“I’ll go anywhere you take me, sir.”

.⋆｡°♡

Your boyfriend always spoiled you, stopping by the nearest convenience store to buy you that same cherry slush you always begged for. After all, the cherry-flavored make-out session that followed was addicting to him, licking your red-stained lips in the back of his car as his strong arms lifted you into his lap. Your laced skirt riding up giving him the best view of your thighs, he always found himself gripping onto them while he made a mess of your makeup.

Every Friday night he’d pick you up and take you wherever you wanted to go, his treat.

If you were being honest, you had no idea what movie was being shown tonight, it didn’t matter as you had other ideas, and of course– your cunning boyfriend always picked up on anything you had planned.

As Taehyun parked his car towards the back of the lot, your eyes scanned around the area searching for any possible unwanted viewers. Luckily for you, the nearest car was quite a distance away.

“You finally got your nails redone, was afraid the money I gave you went towards something else.” Taehyun chuckles, taking your dainty hand in his large one. He gently holds your fingertips as he admires the details.

“Of course, I got them done just for you. Do you like them?” You smile warmly.

“Did you now?” Taehyun reaches for the dainty necklace hanging around your neck and gently tugs you towards him. Your body leans towards him over the console, exposed thighs trembling from how soft yet rough he was being with you.

The movie hadn’t even started yet.

“A-- ah yeah.. just for you..” You blurb out, face now flushed from the sudden closeness between you and your boyfriend.

“Just for me..” He repeats, his voice low and sultry as his face holds an unreadable expression. Taehyun’s eyes are scanning your entire outfit now– and you don’t miss the way his dark eyes hold a deep hunger as they trail over your curves.

“C’mere angel.”

Taehyun scoots his chair backward and you’ve never swung your body over to the driver’s side so quickly in your life.

You settle yourself into his lap and you can practically already feel how hard your boyfriend is against you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in, his chest pressing against yours.

“Such a pretty girl..” he tilts your chin to look up at him and the way your lips form into the cutest pout, the way your sweet eyes stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, so innocent and pure– it has him sliding his fingers under your skirt in between your thighs.

You feel yourself shiver and you can’t help but bury your head into his neck as he traces circles into the delicate lace of your panties.

“Not wearing shorts? Such a whore..”

You unwillingly let out a soft whimper at his remark, and Taehyun lets out a mean chuckle.

“You really are a naughty girl, aren’t you..? C’mon say it.”

“Mmh..y- yeah” you stutter, “I- I’m a naughty girl tyun.”

Taehyun pulls his fingers away from your aching core and the whine you let out is so embarrassingly loud you’re thankful nobody’s parked near your boyfriend's car.

“That’s sir to you, angel.”

[yummyuta]

four sides to every heart | n.y, j.j, l.m

♡ genre: polyamory | smut - mndi! fluff | word count: 2,333

♡ pairing: yuta, jaehyun, mark x f. reader

♡ warnings: multiple sex scenes, oral (m & f receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, petnames (princess, angel, kitten)

♡ summary: you had always considered yourself to be a rational and organized person, meticulously planning every detail of your life. that was until your emotions had become a tangled mess, involving four crucial people - your boyfriend yuta, your roommate jaehyun, and your childhood best friend mark.

♡ authors note: this is the final part of the series! read the preview, part 1, and part 2 here. i am very pleased with how this all turned out. i have never written before, so i really challenged myself, and i hope you all enjoyed this series!

♡ song recommendation:

the smell of saltwater, the chill breeze, the flowy silk sheets under you, and the sound of jaehyun breathing were all you could focus on when you woke up. it had been a year since you went from one lover to three, and you all decided that a vacation was needed. the boys wanted to celebrate in their own ways and found that scheduling separate time with you would be the best ways to express their love and gratitude for all the memories shared over the past 12 months.

the recollection of the previous events from the night before with jaehyun flooded back to you as you hid your now blushing face underneath the blankets. his strong arm found its way draped across your bare chest, as he nuzzled into your neck. "good morning love" he murmured, placing a chaste kiss there. you turned around in his embrace, wanting to face the handsome man before you. he traced soothing patterns along your spine, his lips finding yours in a sentimental kiss. jaehyun's kisses were one of the many ways you knew he deeply cared for you. he spared no effort in slipping his tongue past, leaving you breathless almost instantly. you recalled the first time he touched you like this, how nervous and unsure those feelings were. you can't believe you made it here now, so self-assured and courageous. if it wasn't for you developing those feelings and going through that door, you dont think you would have made it here now.

your touch became more daring as you slipped your hands from his chiseled chest to his defined stomach and lower. jaehyun always was pleasing you first, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he deserved to be taken care of, too. "what are you doing" he groaned in your mouth when you started pumping his length. "just trust me, and lay back. you took more than enough care of me last night. let me do the same for you." you said sweetly, placing your other hand back on his chest to push him on his back. you started slowly, placing your lips softly around his pink tip, kitten licking before taking more of him in your mouth. you felt him flexing around you, trying to contain his excitement. he was big, but you wanted to prove yourself. you had only ever done this a few times with him and were determined to make this a moment to remember. he hit the back of your throat, you lightly gagged, eyes welling up with tears, but you bobbed your head, moving steadily. hearing jaehyuns deep moans made it all worth it to you, he didnt make sounds all the often so whenever you got the chance to hear it, it was like listening to your favorite song over and over again.

he was getting close, one hand gripping the headboard above him, the other found a hold in your hair. the second you looked up at him with your doe eyes, lashes fluttering, he could have lost it all on the spot. he fought his urges, pulling you off him and placing his thumb on your pouted lips. you held eye contact, parting your lips, sucking lightly. "god, you are perfect," he groaned before taking a grasp of your hips and placing you into his lap. "i need to cum inside of you princess." he pleaded with you, he sounded so needy, something new to the both of you. you nodded, putting your arms around his strong shoulders, lifting your knees that straddled him and lowering yourself inch by inch on his cock. he threw his head back, whimpering "baby relax, im not going to last long if you keep clenching around me like that". you tried your best, but every time he filled you up, it was like that first time all over again. you began rocking back and forth at first, grinding in his lap before you gathered enough strength to start riding him properly.

you were so lost in the feeling of him, your eyes closed and moans slipping past your lips, with every thrust. when you went down, he moved up, setting a lovely pace that worked harmoniously. jaehyun was mesmerized by you, the way your features were highlighted by the morning glow shining through the windows. in that moment, he realized he was irrevocably in love with you. from the time you agreed to live with him, he knew his life had changed in an instant. you not only walked into the door of the apartment you now shared, but into his heart as well. from that point, onwards he began to effortlessly imagine a future with you. he could see you both slow dancing in the living room, whiskey glasses half-drank on the coffee table as his favorite jazz record you bought him for his birthday played in the background. he thought of walking through the door after a long day of work and seeing you playing the piano, your child giggling and smiling on your lap.

the more he thought of how beautiful you would look with a baby bump and the pregnancy glow the closer he got to releasing his seed inside of you. "you are my one and only forever love" he declared, sealing his lips with yours in a passionate promise. his hips stuttered, painting your walls white and securing his fate that he had been manifesting with you this entire time. you were meant to live your lives, building a happy home together.

-------------------------------------------------------

the following day, you felt refreshed, and mark picked you up for a romantic adventure. you took a private yacht to a secluded cove, where the water was clear you could admire the sealife from below. there was a picnic already set up for you, as mark put his hand on the small of your back leading you to it. he was affectionate as ever, feeding you chocolate covered strawberries, and making sure your glass of champagne was never left empty. there was something about mark that was extremely captivating. his graceful composure, humble mind, and compassionate heart made him all the more attractive to you. he was a kindhearted friend and an even more dedicated lover.

as you lay together on the blanket, watching the sun dip low into the sky, painting the horizon shades of pink and orange, mark decided to softly sing in your ear as he held you. "a million different stars but you're the one," you blushed at the line from the song he wrote as you gift he prepared for your anniversary. he dipped his head into your neck, leaving wet traces behind as he shifted his body to hover above you, his elbows on either side of your head, staring into your eyes. "i hope i find you in every universe," he announced as he brushed stray hairs out of your face.

the following hours were spent with him proclimating his everlasting love for you over and over again, with the moon and stars as your witness. he lowered his head between your thighs as he drank up every drop of your sweet nectar. your hands grabbing a fistful of his hair, forcing him to disappear further into you, the hem of your dress covering his face. he looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes, and you saw the entire world in them. your vision became blurry, as your mind further slipped as you thought back to how you have grown up with this man alongside you. you had always loved mark, but falling in love with him was a completely different chapter. tears springing in your eyes as your emotions and upcoming orgasm washed over you.

you moaned his name like a mantra, as you released on his face, but that didn't stop him. his hands wrapped around your legs, holding you closer to him as he continued his menstruations, alternating from sucking your bundle of nerves to laying his tongue flat between your folds licking up and down. "its...too...much" you sighed, becoming overstimulated, your entire body vibrating. "give me one more angel, you can do it" he encouraged against your core, nose bumping into your clit.

when mark was in the zone, there was no stopping him, he could go rounds. the man's biggest vice was you. he went to sleep constantly dreaming about moments like the one you are currently in. waking up sweaty and his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. he was happy to share you, most of the time but there was a part of him that was underlyingingly possessive. after your first time together, he became obsessed with the way you said his name, with how you reacted to him. when he had you to himself is when his true nature could come forward.

you needed something to ground you, grabbing his hands that were forcing your legs apart, interlocking them with yours as your body thrashed with the waves crashing into the rocks surrounding you. it was like you and nature were synced. you had never felt so connected to the world around you, reaching a higher plane as you climaxed. you fell into a trancelike state from the immense pleasure you had succumbed to.

mark finally revealed his face to you, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt before taking both sides of his shirt and throwing it up and over his head. you knew then as you layed in the sand, and he continued to undress himself that your evening with mark as well as your story with him was far from over. you thought of the two of you growing old together, reminiscing on the love that kept you young, carefree, and alive all of these years. after all, it was like time didn't exist when you were around each other. even though you have known him your entire life, you still felt like you had an infinite amount of memories to make with the man you wholeheartedly loved.

-------------------------------------------------------

on the final evening of your vacation, you walked into yuta's private villa that he transformed into a sanctuary. as you walked in, you stumbled across a path of rose petals leading to the bedroom. you continued tiptoeing, making your way to the window, you saw that he had prepared a candle-lit dinner just outside on the terrace. he stood there dressed in an all black suit and boquet in hand, looking as dashing as ever.

you enjoyed a delictable meal together, always enjoying the warmth of his company and the love that he shows you through his acts of service. once you had finished your meal, he cleared the table as you stared out into the abyss of the night. yuta came back out, "wow look at this view" he said behind you, and he raked his eyes over your figure. "i know right, its beautiful out," you responded in awe. "not as beautiful as you...kitten" he whispered in your ear, as he began to undress you slowly, wanting to take his time and savor the moment with the women that he loves and cherishes the most. although he never imagined your relationship coming to these heights, he wouldn't turn back the clock for anything. making you happy was his main goal in life, he realized that the day he met you.

as your dress dropped to the floor, you stepped out of it, turning around and meeting his lustful gaze. you never shyed away from him. the man in front of you seeing you at the most vulnerable and transformitive stages in your life, accepting you with arms wide open. his hands and lips began exploring your body in a way they have countless moments before, with a sense of reverence and desire. the air became filled with soft moans and whispers of undying love. you were standing, pressed up against the cold metal of the balcony. your knees buckling as your hands fumbled around yuta's neck. he showed no mercy, pounding into you with such intensity you swear you thought the ground was shaking. very little words needed to be exchanged, as his actions proved his devotion to you.

your entire sense of self was a torch that only yuta could light. you owed him your life. he was the first real boyfriend you ever had, the first man to show you what real love and intimacy was. if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have found the other pieces that completed you. while mark and jaehyun were equally as important to you, yuta was the first man you ever bared your soul to. thats a love that nobody comes back from, the type of love that you find once in a great lifetime, that you would be willing to go through the pits of hell for. you had met your match and yuta was it.

you clawed your nails, down his backside, as you stood on your tiptoes, one leg wrapped around his waist and he showed no mercy, hitting that spot that made you explode like gold dust. you opened your mouth to speak but couldn't form any thoughts, not when yuta was making love to you like the sky was about to start falling around you. you wanted to tell him you loved him, to thank him for giving you life and meaning to the world you existed in.

in that instant, it was like he knew exactly what you were thinking. he brushed his lips against yours, hips begining to falter, as he lost any ounce of power he had over himself. "i know everything... I love you too," he said breathlessly with his lips curled up into a smile. the one that made everything peaceful around you. lost in the aftermath of the passion, your breathing mingled into the hue of the rising sun, bringing in the dawn of a new day and the continuation of your everlasting love.

♡ ending authors note: for this part, i wanted to do something a bit different and focus on the feeling of each relationship more than the acts themselves as a way to wrap everything up. i enjoyed diving into each individual scene, and i hope you enjoyed this series!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I Entered Daniel's Den and I Saw the Truth Before Me

So I'm struggling a bit writing fanfiction because it's getting dark out and I'm so tired these days. However, the show must go on and so I push forward! However, just so you're all aware, there very well could come a point where I admit, I may struggle to make content and so we might not have some for a bit. But Winter will come to an end, and I will be back to normal! I just need to power through!!!

Tws: Yandere, Kidnapping, Pyschological Horror

Wordcount: 558

Art From This Post

Story Below the Cut

I Entered Daniel's Den and I Saw the Truth Before Me

König sat at the marble kitchen counter, drumming his fingers idly as he looked over the charcuterie boards again. You watched as he took inventory of the crackers, cheese and cut meats again and again, obsessively absorbing every detail into his mechanical mind. You sat silently on a bar stool as you waited for someone to make the next move.

“How long until they come?” you asked quietly.

König glanced at the clock on the oven again.

“Not too long,” he told you as much as he told himself, “Mama will be here soon.”

“Did she tell you when she’d be here?” you tried again.

König’s eyes narrowed briefly before he relaxed and said, “Soon. It shouldn’t be long now.”

You fiddled your thumbs mindlessly. Earlier you were playing with a string on the hem of your sleeve but König was quick to put an end to it, reminding you to keep up a good appearance for his family. You didn’t think a pulled string would matter too much, but König had warned you that they were far more observant than they let on. You wondered if that was true or not. You supposed you’d figure out soon enough.

For his part, König had ensured that the house was immaculate. You thought his incessant fussing would never come to an end, but it seemed that he’d finally come to a point where he couldn’t do any more. You figured that the table of hors d'oeuvres was the final piece for preparation.

If nothing else, you’d enjoyed cooking in the kitchen with König. He’d fully trusted you with the knife, though you noted he was a far more meticulous cook than you’d expected. He had been looking over your shoulder at every turn as you’d sweated a pan of mushrooms. He’d been even worse when he’d been inspecting the size of your diced onions, but at the very least he seemed to be content. He’d been sweet enough to pat you on the head and praise you for a job well done. The simple praise still had your heart fluttering.

König glanced back at the clock and muttered again under his breath. You wanted to ask what exactly he was thinking about, but he was far too focussed on the time to hear your questions. The longer you waited, the more you could see his biceps tense under his silk dress shirt. You were a bit shocked that he was determined to keep his hood on, but maybe that was a family trait? It would make sense. Or, well, you hoped it would.

You hadn’t heard anything at all about König’s family, except that his mother was the matriarch of the home and his siblings were just as demanding. Apparently, his youngest sister was a bit soft-hearted for König’s tastes, but then he’d barked out a laugh and said she probably thought he was the most cruel of the lot of them. You had only recently learned that her name was Klara. You wondered if she was similar in age to you.

Just as you turned to speak to König, the doorbell rang.

König was off like a shot to the front door. You followed behind him nervously as he strode to the front entrance.

You watched König put his hand on the brass doorknob and open the door.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[brokebonewritings]

Be Mine, Forever?

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye

Word Count: 4.4K

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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 

You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.

As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.

Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"

"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"

Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."

"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 

She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."

"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.

"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."

You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.

"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.

"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."

You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."

"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."

"Oh shit, really?" 

You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.

"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"

She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."

"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."

"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.

You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."

"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"

You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?

It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.

Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.

"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"

There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."

You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"

Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"

"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"

"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."

You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."

"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.

"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.

"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"

The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."

"That sounds lovely, very romantic."

As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 

"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"

"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."

As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.

Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.

You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 

"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."

"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."

"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."

"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.

You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.

"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.

"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."

"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 

"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."

They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.

You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 

Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.

As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.

With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.

You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.

The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.

Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.

The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.

Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.

"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.

"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.

You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.

"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.

The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.

"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."

The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.

Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.

"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.

As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."

"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.

As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.

On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.

"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.

Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.

His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.

With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.

As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.

"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."

You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."

"Our bed?" 

"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.

He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.

Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.

"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.

He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 

"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.

"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.

With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.

You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.

"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"

"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."

"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.

His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."

With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.

He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.

Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.

His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."

He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."

He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.

Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.

"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.

He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.

A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"

You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 

"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."

Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.

He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.

"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.

"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.

He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 

"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."

That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.

He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.

He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."

He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.

You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 

"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.

He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.

Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.

You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.

He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.

You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 

"Sorry, too much?"

"Not at all."

"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.

Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"

"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."

"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."

"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."

This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."

A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."

As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."

"Though I do have one complaint."

"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You never asked me to be your valentine."

Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

join my taglist!

[bheegibilli-studioghibli]

I love your writing so much!!!

Could you maybe write where hozier and you just get engaged or maybe finally get married and its the most sweetest thing? Maybe smutty??

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x gn!reader

Summary: Andrew plans out his proposal to you, meticulously laying it out to make sure it’s perfect. And it is.

Content Warning: language (slightly), mostly just a diabetic amount of fluff, use of y/n (i tried to avoid it but it was necessary here)

A/N: oh my god hey, thank you for the request! I made this fic centred more so around them getting engaged and around the proposal, I hope that’s okay. Also, this is just tooth ache sweet fluff, the smut would’ve made it too long. Maybe I can write a part two? 👀

Hydrangeas. You notice the hydrangeas sitting at the dining table, they grab your attention since they are, after all, your favourite flowers but you almost never get them to put up in the house.   

“Andrew?” You call out to him, smiling at the thought that he bought them for you.

“Yeah, hun. Oh shit you weren’t supposed to see those” he laughs trying to cover up his complete lack of subtlety.

“Did you get them for me?” You press them against your chest trying hard to suppress the stupid grin spreading over your face.

“No I got them for the poltergeist in the attic. Of course I got them for you” he crosses the room making his way to your side, he held your waist in his arms pressing a kiss atop your head.

“Why though? I mean it’s just a Wednesday” you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. Andrew loved serenading you, whispering the most heart flutteringly beautiful words in your ears and even cooking for you, he treated you like you had descended from the heavens. But flowers were new, it felt nice though the sheer surprise of it all.

“I just wanted to get them for you, I never get you flowers and I know you don’t particularly like receiving them but I saw them today and I thought if you” he gazes down at you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.

“Andrewwww, thank you they’re lovely. I love it” you’re usually a very confident person and you pride yourself in that, but things like these make you bashful to no end. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent. Always smells like home.

You feel his chest echo with his laugh, “oh come on it’s nothing” he pulls your head away, cupping the sides of it to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

“I should find a vase for them, clearly you’ve done a terrible job at hiding them” you tease.

“Okay okay, I wasn’t expecting you to come in here. I do pride myself in my secrecy, thank you very much” he chuckles as you entered the other room to look for a vase.

Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The flowers were supposed to be a surprise, well not the flowers per se but they were supposed to aid the process of revealing a bigger surprise, the ring. He had been feeling the comforting weight of the ring in his breast pocket for a few days now, not trusting himself to keep it anywhere but right next to his heart. After months of thoroughly coming up with all the possible ways he could propose to you, he has finally crafted a plan. Meticulously going over every detail, to have it be perfect. Today was the day. He was going to ask you to be his. Forever, if you’ll have him. 

He had unequivocally been yours since the day you started your courtship, but there was nothing he desired more than to be your husband. It made sense, it made perfect sense. 

And he wanted to you to feel the depths of his emotions. How every fibre of his felt intrinsically connected to yours. It had to be perfect, nothing short of it. But he had already fucked up, the flowers.

It’s fine, maybe he can get the ceiling covered in hydrangeas instead. A bouquet? What was he thinking in the first place, it had to be more special than that. He had called up all your friends and his to help him set up the house to look like a dream. After all he might be fulfilling one of his that night.

But he didn’t want anyone to be there when he proposed to you, he wanted to it to be the both of you against the world. He often thought of love that way. Especially the kind of pov e the two of you shared. It was intimate, tender and he wanted to uphold that. They had all agreed only if he promised to call them right after you said yes. If you said yes.

You were surprisingly unaware of the grand plans he had orchestrated. Your friends, back home, painstakingly trying to bring his vision to life. They kept him updated, sending him pictures through your dinner. He was so jittery but he tried to portray himself as if this was just another dinner date, after all he wanted dinner to be just as special. Afterwards, both of you walked a round the canal, hand glued together and laughter echoing through the air. It was lovely, like it always was with him.

Once both of you were back home, you turned the key in the doorway to let the two of you in. As you swung the door open, the sight that met you eyes was of your living room drenched in an aureate glow from the hundreds of flickering candles set up across the length of the room. Before you could take it all in, your eyes travelled up to see bunches of hydrangeas hanging from the ceiling in what looked like another roof altogether. You could see pictures of the two of you hanging in different corners, your first date, your first trip together, the first you went to show. Years and years of beautiful memories creating the timeline of your love. Leading to the centre of the room, where on a tiny coffee stand stood the bouquet you received in the morning, in the ceramic vase you placed it in. Your mouth agape, as you walked further into the room, standing at the centre of it, Andrew following closely behind you. His breath was hitched in his throat, did you like it? Was it perfect? He held his breath, as he let you take it all in.

You turned around to look at Andrew, his face beaming and eyes soft. 

He walked closer to you and then stopped right before he could be at arms length. Slowly sinking down to one knee. Oh. Oh. He was proposing. You felt your eyes well up with tears and as your hands flew to your mouth.

“Hey. Y/N Y/L/N, you are the light of life. A beacon of brilliance in what I thought was unbridled darkness. You are a force of nature. The way you carry yourself from your boundless kindness, enchanting smile, your ridiculous sense of humour, your ability to be the heart and soul of every connection you form suffice to I’ve been completely whipped. I love you. I love how smart you are, how you care so much, how you snort when you laugh, that mole on your chin, your incredibly lame puns, how steadfast you are in your resolve. And more selfishly, I love you because you make me feel like the luckiest man to walk the earth. I used to think that I needed someone to feel whole, you made me realise that I am already whole. I’m so grateful to have you, beyond anything I could ever articulate into a song let alone a mere speech. You inspire me to do my best and to be my best. You’ve helped my hone my craft simply by being you. By existing. Alongside me, behind me, leading me. And I love you, for all of it and more. So much so, that I want to spend the rest of our time on this godforsaken planet with you. Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I. I want to be in your light till death do us part, even then no grave can hold my body down because I know I will always crawl back home to you. Thank you for all that you are and all that you have been. Saying I love you is an understatement but it’s what my feeling are down to their most distilled form. I love you and I promise to love you till you let me. Please.

Let me.

Make me the most fortunate soul by marrying me. Will you marry me?”

If it wasn’t for the way you clearly looked down at him right now you would’ve believed that you had become a puddle on the ground. He was crying, you were crying. Your chest filled with the kind of love that cannot be caged, it was as if your heart was gonna burst through the walls of it’s enclosure and nestle itself in his hands. Because that’s where it belongs. You fall to your knees, at the same level as him now.

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes Andrew” 

You fling yourself into his arms as both of you fall backwards. 

“Really?” It’s as if he couldn’t believe it. Tears now freely flowing down his cheek, vanishing in his beard’s auburn forest.

“Yes you idiot, I love you. So much. More than can I ever fully comprehend. I love you, I want to be with you. Now and forever”

Before you can even catch a breath, you feel his lips crash into yours. Lifting you up off the ground, as his lips engulfed yours. You felt the saltiness of both your tears in the kiss, as he grabbed your face and tasted you as if he was man starved. I love you. I love you. Both of you kept reciting as if it was hymn into each other’s mouths. The intimacy of the kiss was unparalleled and the passion was palpable. You felt his hands cling to your every curve, as if he thought this was dream and he was desperately trying to hold onto it. But it was real, as real as the green hues of his eyes and the mole on your chin. You could do this forever you thought, you are going to be doing this forever.

I loved writing this so much, I just love telling people how much I love them so writing his little proposal speech was really fun. Thank you for the request anon, I hope I could do it justice!

[deadbydangit]

Hello! I hope this isn't too odd-

Could you do headcanon's for Michael, Danny and Joey, where his survivor S/O just randomly tells him about their very thought out and meticulous murder plan. They've clearly put a lot of thought into how to get away with it while framing someone else. It takes them like five minutes to go through the plan step by step

And then they end it off with a "not that I ever would, obviously, but yk just something to think about. Btw if you murder me and dispose of my body like that, don't fuck it up... Not that you would <3"

Whether they mean he'd never kill them, or that he wouldn't fuck it up, hell never know

I believe I can do that. I'm going to simplify it just a bit so I have more to write. I hope this is okay. Please enjoy

With a Reader Who Comes Up With a Murder Plan

Ghostface, Shape, Legion (Joey)

Ghostface

"Marry me!"

Came out, almost as soon as you finish talking.

And he says it so fast it's incomprehensible.

"What? No, I didn't say anything."

"I-I just coughed."

No, we know you didn't Danny.

Don't press it.

He's thanking the Entity and whatever God is out there he's wearing a mask.

Because this boy is blushing.

Like, his whole face is red.

Deep red.

When you're no longer an earshot he's going to squeal.

Like a lovestruck little girl.

Because, at that moment, he is lovestruck.

Murder and you.

His two favorite things in the world.

Together.

He just can't believe it.

At all!

If the plan was just you speaking hypothetically, make sure to tell him that.

Because he's too excited to know the difference.

If you're serious about this...

Well, expect all the supplies at your bedroom door in a nice little box.

Topped with a poorly tied bow!

And if you plan to go through with it, he's right there beside you, supporting you from the sidelines.

If you want him to step back, no problem. Just say something.

"But, babe, please let me watch. Please! I need to watch this!"

He's just so proud of you.

He might even propose to you after.

Shape

He's pretty fascinated.

After you're done talking, he'll pause for a long while deep in thought.

Then he'll take out a sheet of paper, urging you to write your plan down on it.

Micheal may seem to do his killings at random, but he's actually very meticulous about things.

Each murder is carefully calculated for the max results in the shortest amount of time.

To him, murder is an art.

He'll critique and pick your plan apart.

He's not doing this to be rude, he's actually being very supportive.

He wants your first murder to go perfectly.

He'll show you the ropes, guiding you through each step and practicing each one.

Best techniques for stabbing, best techniques for strangling, what to do when they run.

He's got all the bases covered.

And he's going to make sure you do as well.

He considers himself pretty good at his art, and what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't teach you everything he knew?

Now, if you aren't serious about this, you're going to have to mention that.

Because to him, killing is a casual thing.

You know, you eat, you sleep, you kill.

Killing is as natural as breathing to him.

If you are serious, he's going to make sure nothing goes wrong.

If you don't want him around, don't sweat it.

Oh, he'll still be there.

But you won't see him, at all.

For someone as tall and big as he is, he's excellent at stealth.

He's prepared you so well that everything seems to go perfectly.

Of course, he did patch up a few of your mistakes here and there.

He just made sure you didn't notice.

He wants you to be as proud of yourself as he is of you.

Legion (Joey)

He feels really conflicted about this.

On one hand, murder is not that fun.

He didn't come into the realm because he wanted to.

He kind of got screwed over.

Yes, he knows he participated in the killing.

But that doesn't mean he enjoys what he does.

On the other hand, you describing in all that detail what you'd do?

Kind of hot.

He'll try not to say that out loud.

But he's impulsive and he might accidentally do so.

Don't judge him.

He'll suggest other things to channel your energy into.

Anything but killing.

Hell, he'll even let you spray paint the chateau walls.

And he'll take the blame for it!

Anything but killing.

If you're dead set on it, Joey will be there the whole time to keep you safe.

He's probably not going to help though.

He kills enough on a daily basis.

And he's just rather not.

But he won't let any harm come to you.

If anything, he'll be begging you to stop.

That you don't have to go down this path.

"Babe, if you're doing this to impress me, you don't have to."

"I love you for who you are, and I don't want to see you ruined by what messed me up."

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #oo8 | the doctor is in

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows the doctor is in (medical play) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan have been together for a while and decide to explore something more outside the box in regards to intimacy. he's always thought your former job as a nurse was fascinating, and the idea of a hot nurse was always a sexy concept to him; but now, its chan's turn to play doctor, and he’s done his research in full, and takes to his role a little too well… warnings: medical play, and all that entails, without revealing too much - including medical instruments, gynecological based scenes, description/plot heavy, I purposefully saved this for the 8th entry because it’s kinky on the border of off putting to some folx, I wanted you to be familiar with how far I push limits in my work by digesting the previous entries first, if you do not like it, skip it, established relationship, 'good girl' and 'good girl' adjacent pet names, non-idol AU

word count: 3.7k masterlist - click here

"Do you remember when we talked about trying out that doctor roleplay?" you inquire, gently setting the cardboard box on the table. The solid thud of its weight makes Chan wince. Leaning across the table, you give him a quick kiss.

As you pull back, Chan opens his eyes and asks, "Yeah? Why do you bring it up now? What's on your mind?"

"I've decided to bring some work home this time."

You begin unpacking the supplies, starting with a box of syringes with securely attached needles. Then, you reveal a pack of sterilized hemostats, along with packs of gauze, bandages, catheters (both IV and urinary), and various other medical instruments. While these items are familiar to you from your former career as a nurse, Chan has never encountered such materials outside of a doctor's office, and some of them are entirely new to him.

But Chan does remember the vivid conversation you had, especially after your last check-up when you excitedly shared your detailed ideas.

It was something he had never heard of at the time—medical play?

-

"So, basically like...playing doctor?" Chan leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers behind his head.

"Kind of. But this time, I want to make it more immersive, by actually using real supplies," you explain. Your eyes briefly drift to his veiny forearm and back to his eyes, but you're not subtle enough, and he catches your glance, lowering his arms.

"I remember now," he says, his face lighting up with a humorous recollection as he continues, "Back when you first started in the Emergency, you kept saying you wanted to draw my blood, claiming I'd be an easy poke."

You're about to offer a retort, but he stops you with a raised finger, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips as he starts laughing at the thought. After a moment, he takes a breath, turning somewhat serious.

"If we do this, I get to go first."

You're relieved at his enthusiasm. It's certainly an unusual request, but by now, Chan is well-acquainted with your eccentricities.

"What do you mean? As the patient or the doctor?"

"The Doctor, of course," Chan says, slowly turning in his chair. He forms an imaginary TV screen with his hands in front of his face. "Yeah, I can see it now." The chair completes its 360-degree turn, bringing him back to face you as he concludes,

"Dr. Bang will see you now."

-

As you meticulously unpack the box, your boyfriend's hand reaches over, picking up a container of 25g needles, and he studies it with intense curiosity. His leg bounces nervously beneath the table.

"On a scale of one to a serious medical emergency, how likely are we to kill each other tonight?" he quips, his eyes lifting from the box, a dubious brow raised in question.

"As long as we steer clear of sharps to start with, we’ll be alright."

“We’ll be alright,” Chan scoffs with a laugh. He cracks a grin as he opens the box between his hands and extracts one of the capped needles, spinning it between his fingers. With a swift, deft 'crack,' he twists it open and removes the cap, revealing the sharp, fine needle underneath. He gives it another once-over before turning his gaze back to you. He's pondering deeper now, his eyes tracing down to the sliver of skin peeking out from your silk robe, stopping at the upper thigh.

"I don't even wanna know how you got a'hold of all of this."

Chan caps the needle and carefully sets it back down on the table. He recognizes that admitting a desire like this was a vulnerable thing for you, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious himself ever since you first had mentioned it.  One night, when you were out, he threw the term you taught him into a porn site—medical play—and watched, wide eyed and bricked up from all the scenes he began to discover.

You trust him, you've said, to handle your body with care. You couldn't imagine letting anyone other than Chan partake in this experiment, and once he gets past the initial discomfort of potentially messing up, you're certain he'll take excellent care of you.

Because that's just Chan's nature.

"Well then, shall we?" He rises from his seat, wrapping a reassuring arm around your waist beneath your robe, pulling your body close to his. Your naked skin brushes against the fabric of his clothes as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips. "I need to change first. Can you give me a few minutes?"

You respond with a light, airy snort.  “You’re gonna change your clothes?  You’re really dedicated, huh?”

"I mean, personally, I wouldn't want a doctor in boardies, a singlet, and thongs anywhere near me with a scalpel. Wouldn't be very professional now, would it?" Chan says as he heads towards the bottom of the stairs, kicking off his house shoes. The sound of his bare footsteps fades as he ascends the stairs, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

You nibble on the inside of your lower lip, feeling a touch of nervousness. You expected more resistance from him, but not only is he going along with it, it seems like he's enjoying the idea.

You pack everything back into the box and hurry upstairs to the bedroom. You grab a folding table from storage and unfold it, providing a surface for the tools of the trade for tonight. One by one, you lay out the supplies. Both of you are uncertain about what this experience will be like, or if you'll even enjoy it, so you've gathered a variety of items. Feeling apprehensive about making incisions? Opt for a needle. If you're new to poking, avoid breaking the skin and use a blunt medical tool instead. If things get a little too intense, there are bandages, staplers, and skin glue to the rescue. There are so many options here; surely, there's something that Chan will feel comfortable using.

As you arrange the table neatly, you can't help but imagine the sensual sensation of each item against your skin. You set everything up for easy access, lost in your thoughts, when you suddenly hear the door creak open behind you.

You turn around to find your very own Christopher Bang standing there, fastening his watch.  The sleeves of his white collared shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing firehose veins that run up his arms like the roots of a sturdy tree. It makes you wish you were the one in charge tonight.

The thought of drawing blood from him is undeniably enticing.

Chan, dressed impeccably in a white button-down tucked into dark pants, fits the part perfectly. The desire to clear the table and let him have his way with you right there and then crosses your mind.

"Fuck me," you mutter under your breath.

He chuckles. "Maybe later, but for now, have a seat for me?" He taps the edge of the bed and settles into the office chair that used to belong at his computer desk, now strategically positioned next to your makeshift doctor's examination bed. Chan busies himself with the satisfying snap of pulling on his gloves, casting his eyes over the array of instruments spread out on the table. He inspects each object before swiveling the chair to face you, a confident smile gracing his features. His gloved hands dangle between his legs, fingers intertwined.

"So, Y/N, I'm Dr. Bang, and I'm the doctor on call tonight.”  He lifts his wrist to glance at his watch before his eyes meet yours again, “It's pretty late, though. Care to tell me what's going on?"

His act is so convincing that you blink twice, half-expecting him to break character at any moment, dissolve into laughter, and physically cringe. But Chan smoothly glides closer, planting both hands on your knees. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to tonight, yeah? You still up for this?” He checks in with you, and his sincerity reassures you that he's the right person to explore this with.

“Of course, I just didn’t expect you to take it so seriously.”

“You trust me, and I take that very seriously.”  He runs his hands up and down the silky expanse of your thighs, his smile revealing a tiny dimple. "Go ahead and lie back for me." He rises as you recline onto the bed, and he attentively adjusts your robe, ensuring your modesty. Chan gently tugs the fabric closed over your body, all the while looking down at you with genuine affection. "Not a fan of doctor's visits, are you? You seemed nervous earlier, but are you experiencing any discomfort right now?" He starts applying gentle pressure around the perimeter of your abdomen. His touch feels eerily authentic, causing you to briefly forget this is a role-play scenario.

"I am," you confess, observing him as he focuses on the area just below your navel. A sharp sensation shoots through you, making you gasp involuntarily, a sound that surprises both of you. Chan momentarily halts, clearly caught off guard, before reestablishing eye contact with you. "Did that hurt?" He presses again, and you instinctively cover your mouth, stifling your reaction.

"Hey," Chan tenderly grasps your wrist, guiding your hand away from your mouth, "I'm not a vet. I need my patients to use their words, so I can provide the best care."

"It's right below where you pressed, Doctor; it just...it's uncomfortable right now, like–an ache. It’s hard to explain.” you say, barely managing to articulate in a roleplay appropriate way that you're getting hornier by the second and can swear your pussy has its own heartbeat at this point.

"Below, like... here?" Chan's gloved right hand moves an inch lower, hovering right above your soft, puffy pubis. He's teasing, and his mischievous grin gives it away.

"Lower," you reply with a sultry undertone, encouraging his exploration.

Chan's fingers press against your warmth, causing your hips to rise against his touch. He immediately stops and wheels himself backward to a nearby table laden with an array of medical equipment. You lift your head, peering over your chest to see what he's up to. Sensing your curious eyes on him, he looks over at you, his hand resting on a packaged instrument that remains elusive from your vantage point on the bed.

A chuckle escapes his lips. This was what you wanted, wasn't it? Well, now he's getting into the role-play more than he expected. The clinical setting, the pristine, sterile instruments, and your presence in that beautiful black silk robe, waiting with bated breath and those wide, enchanting eyes – it all triggers a surge of power in Chan that he didn't anticipate. Not like this, at least.

"So, when did you first notice the pain?"

“When you came in the fucking room.”

Chan laughs softly. "You're not very good at this," he remarks, picking up a stethoscope and draping it around his neck. "Let's start with some basics since you're a bit anxious. I'll ease you into it."

His tone conveys an underlying promise, and you watch as he leans over your body, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of your robe, the cool stethoscope head making contact with your skin. As soon as you feel the gloved fingers on your body, you sense your nipples hardening against the silk fabric. Chan notices too as he listens, although he's uncertain what he's searching for, his brow furrowed as he shifts the stethoscope over slightly, catching the rapid increase in your heartbeat.

He likes being able to hear the effect he has on you.

Chan removes the stethoscope from his ears, placing it around his neck again. "You've got a strong ticker!" he remarks with a smile, closing your robe as professionally as a real doctor. "Now, open up for me,"

You blink at him, an immediate desire to spread your legs rising within you, but you obediently open your mouth instead as he places a thermometer underneath your tongue. You hold it firmly in place.

"Good girl. Keep this up, and I might reward you with a lollipop later." The thermometer beeps, and he removes it, sitting back down in his chair and rolling over to the table. "Ninety-nine point six, perfect. See? Nothing to be afraid of." He picks up a nearby pen and scribbles something down on a notepad, then proceeds to examine the various instruments, silently evaluating each one.

What was he going to do to you? Was he going to poke you with a needle? Give you an enema?  You’d give anything to be inside of his brain right now and know what he’s plotting.

“Chris—“

"Ah, ah, ah," he tuts, raising a finger into the air, still deciding his next move.

You stop yourself, close your eyes, and take a deep breath.

"Dr. Bang," you say, emphasizing his title with respect.

"Hmm?" He responds, much more content with the formal address than his first name.

"What exactly... are you planning to do to me today?"

To your dismay, he spins around toward you, holding a chosen instrument—a metal speculum. Out of all things? Does he even know how to work it? 

You swallow hard, the thought of him meddling with your insides making you squirm internally. But you play your part. You're in an examination.

“I'm here to make you feel better; it's my job. I'll need to take a good look inside to determine why you’re in so much discomfort.”

You watch and wait for him to ask you how to open the sterilized package. Instead, he deftly peels it open from the top and holds the speculum over a green surgical drape on a nearby metal tray with a muffled clang, tossing the packaging aside. He can sense your disbelief in your expression as he looks back up at you.

"How did you-"

"Yeah, so you know how people say your phones are always listening to you?" Chan slides his chair back until he's positioned right between your legs, and the sheer confidence in his movement reminds you of the residents you've assisted on numerous occasions. It's undeniably turning you on.

"Yeah?" you reply.

"Well, ever since we first discussed it, my algorithm's gone haywire," he says, shaking his head with a sigh, his elbow resting on his thigh. "It takes a truly special person to do this kind of work." He taps the edge of the bed as he speaks, and you shift up so your hips rest on the edge, your legs hanging off.

"That being said," Chan hooks his arms underneath your legs' crooks, lifting them up so your feet lie flat on the bed, spread open. Your robe is far from sufficient to keep you from being exposed. The swiftness of his motion sends a breeze across your most intimate area, letting you know just how aroused he's gotten you with minimal contact. You can hear the click of the lid on the lube as he coats his fingers.  

“You'll feel my fingers first, and then a little cold and some pressure, alright?"

His voice is soothing, and you exhale, saying, "Alright," your hands folded on your stomach.

"Take a deep breath for me," You feel his fingers first, just as he promised. Two gloved digits slide inside you, and your gasp is nearly reflexive as you clench around them when he curls them upwards, caressing that special spot. "That's it, keep breathing, relax," he instructs.

As he guides you into a state of calm with his slow and soothing words, you notice the change in temperature and texture as the cool metal speculum slides gently into you, not all the way, slowly stretching against your pulsing walls. Here you are, in your own bedroom, with Chan talking you through it, his palm resting on your inner thigh. His eyes switch between your glistening core and your furrowed brows, and your slow panting. He’s waiting for you to fold, to tell him to stop, that this is too much. But you don’t.

Chan secures the device in place, creating an opening that's not too wide but still provides him with better access than he's ever had before. And you're willingly letting it happen.

He checks in on you, discreetly adjusting the front of his pants to make room for the tent he was pitching. "How are you feeling?"

"It feels different than it usually does," you remark, your tummy fluttering with a chuckle, dispelling any lingering tension.

"Yeah? Different in what way?" His hand vanishes between your thighs as he slides his fingers back inside you, and this time, he stands over you, studying your reactions while his other hand moves beneath your navel.

"I mean, usually I don't expect my doctor to—" You cut yourself off with a moan as he presses both inside you and firmly on top of you simultaneously. 

At that moment, Chan decides that he absolutely loves this.

"What was that?" he asks, as if that moment hadn’t happened.

"I usually don't expect my doctors to... well, you know," you say.

God, you were such a freak.

Did he turn you on that much? That you’d let him do this to you? Does he have that much of a hold on you?

“This is where it hurts?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He really doesn’t need you to say it.  He knows you want him to rail you, as if your expressons aren’t enough; he can feel your walls yearning to close around something, anything, so desperately.

The anticipation of what it would feel like to remove the speculum and have your tightness engulf him as it shrinks back sends a shiver down his spine.

He tugs at the crotch of his pants again.

"How about when I do this?" He starts a gentle but confident massage of your abdomen, and your hips slowly begin to rotate, pleading for more pressure.  You can’t move much, the device forcing your movements to remain minute, lest it become uncomfortable.

"Feels–" you curl your fingers into the sheets, the pressure from the speculum inside you battling with your natural urge to clench around nothing, stealing your breath.

Chan captures your lips with his own. "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you nod, feeling his hand slipping between your legs again, accompanied by the sounds of his belt buckle being undone as he kisses you once more, both of you breathless.  This must’ve been turning him on too, and now, you can hear it and feel it in the stiff, swollen head of his cock leaking against the warmth of your inner thigh as he disengages the metal spacer, it feels far warmer than it did going in, and you sigh as it leaves your body, but before you can register the emptiness left behind, Chan’s warm, girth  replaces the foreign object, and you both groan in tandem with the feeling.

“Fuck, babe,” He breathes at the sensation.  Your pussy is so hungry for him, the way you swallow him up is unholy.  And as he pulls his hips back and snaps them into you again, he’s certain you’ve never been this wet before, ever.

“Oh god, finally,” Your eyes roll back into your head, knees pushed back, your robe now fully splayed open, with the most perfect visuals of your tits, Chan leans forward and you wrap your legs around his waist, “I think I figured out what’s wrong,” he whispers, the ends of his stethoscope dangling onto your bare skin, “Want me to make you feel better baby?” He begins thrusting into you, “Is that why it was hurting? Hm? Because you needed me to fill you up?”

“Yeah, yeah I did—needed you–so bad–doctor, god I–fuck Chan I–love you–I-”

You don’t even make any sense and you resort to a breathless laugh as your teeth chatter with a sharp inhale.

“Aw, my babygirl, you’re a mess.  It’s worse than I thought.” Chan chuckles and has to pause to regain his composure. Pulling the stethoscope off, he tosses it aside and lifts the hem of his dress shirt, holding it between his teeth as he thrusts into you, now able to watch how you paint his cock with your juices every time he disappears inside of you. His lower abs flex and contract with each stroke, while muffled, elongated groans escape through clenched teeth. His palm presses down on that spot beneath your tummy again, and he feels your body clenching under his touch as he thrusts even deeper, he wants to feel himself inside of you, each movement of your hips daring him to split you in half entirely.

Your vision becomes hazy, and you struggle to concentrate beneath drooping eyelids, on the verge of being overwhelmed by sensations. You move your mouth, but words won't form, only heavy sighs and gasps provoked by his every move as if you were his puppet. If you could form coherent thoughts, you'd be thanking him for reminding your lungs to breathe, enabling you to catch your breath at all.

Now, you're climaxing, and it takes him by surprise. A choked, guttural groan escapes his throat as the wet end of his shirt falls from between his teeth, thin streams of drool trickling down his chin as he climaxes just moments after yours. The release leaves him feeling lightheaded, and he catches himself on his elbow, breathing heavily with his forehead pressed against yours. Your eyes are closed as you try to catch your own breath.

Chan's stamina surpasses yours, and his heavy breathing turns into soft laughter as he places his palm against your cheek. You laugh along with him; it's hard not to when Chan's laughing. It serves as a release that sends chills and butterflies through your stomach, having experienced something so exhilarating together.

Your fingers curl around his palm against your cheek as your eyes crinkle. "You've definitely done this before."

Chan sits next to you on the bed.  “I haven’t, promise,” “Hm.  You may have a future in theatre then.” “Think so? Maybe I can get famous and quit my shitty job.” He laughs leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Since you’re the one with the medical background, I wouldn’t be against you poking me next time.”

“Next time?”

“Oh yeah. You’ve got all those supplies.  I’m just getting started.”

- fin

[yuurivoice]

Felt like sharing a little update with my morning coffee!

As you very likely saw yesterday, writing has been going well. After months and months of "I know what's gonna happen, I just haven't written it yet" the new studio space has really given me a leg up when it comes to locking in and hammering out some writing.

I had to refamiliarize myself with where I left off, and make some tweaks to that so it would reflect what adjustments needed to be made to reflect things I knew would be coming in later entries. That bit is always a bit more time consuming because it's more meticulous, and as you pull back layers of details it creates some additional threads you might need to tug on as well. Believe me when I say, there is one particular thread that led me to some very exciting revelations and ideas.

Yesterday was the first time I had all of the backtracking done and I could just start yapping. Moving on to the next episode of EoE was a lot of fun because I've only had some vague "this, then this, then that, then this" ideas of how it would go, which is my typical process, and it's always a thrill to plug my brain in and see what details were lurking beneath. The same kind of magic I felt with BitterSweet is there for the taking in EoE as well, so I'm having more fun than I've had in a long time now that I'm really cooking.

Characters who had codenames, like Smithy, now have proper names and their voices are becoming clearer the more I write. Codename Knife Pervert is a delight as well.

I recently revisited Chapter 1 of BitterSweet and recognized how neutral Seth's voice was, compared to where he's at in chapter 2 and 3. Mind you, I don't mean literally his voice (but also...lol), but written voice. The distinct way that a character is written, dialog in this case. With that in mind as I dive into these new characters I've never actually written, I'm much more conscious of the need for that distinction and I think it represents an improvement in my writing.

The dynamic between many of these characters really tickles my brain because we're going beyond Character x Listener POV, or any sort of straightforward romantic connections between characters. Although I'm very certain there will be characters getting shipped (and I'll be right there with you lol), it's nice to be writing without the vague goal of selling smut. Although that'll happen a bit as well.

I'm very optimistic about the amount of work that's going to get done over the next couple of months. Proper audio content coming in the meantime as well, but it's a bit more exciting that the creative clog has been passed and the big projects are moving again. :3

[aimbutmiss]

It was another long night in the office for Crocodile.

To be fair, it was never intentional. He always reminded himself to retreat to his sleeping quarters at acceptable hours as he sat down to get some work done, but the idea was forgotten the moment he picked up a document.

So, he had severe time management problems. Whatever.

He dropped the paper he was holding and rubbed his temple with a groan. He was getting too old for sleepless nights like this. But work never ended with Cross Guild. He had a lot of things to overlook, even with the help he had from Daz and Buggy, who surprisingly made quite the good businessman. And maybe he was being a bit too cautious—too detailed with his work, but he found out the hard way that attention to detail payed off. He wasn't new to all this, he had built Baroque Works from ground up and he had also very much done the same with Cross Guild. He was proud of his meticulous work habits. No matter how many sleepless nights he had, it was always worth it.

And he loved his office; it was his safe place. He loved having a little corner to himself, away from everyone and everything. Karai Bari was loud, always home to some type of festivity. Crocodile was never one for such ruckus, and only allowed it because it helped with crew morale. But no matter what stupid thing was going on out there, he could shut it out and hide in the peaceful silence of this room. He could crunch numbers day and night, without having to deal with nightmares in his bed.

Yes, Sir Crocodile had nightmares; for he was human like any other.

He wasn't ashamed of his demons, but he'd never admit it to anyone if asked about it. He had spent years building the strong, powerful persona he had. He had convinced many that he was invincible, without weakness. It would all crumble if the world found out he woke up in cold sweat some nights, tears staining his face.

Monsters did not cry.

He slammed his head on the desk and closed his eyes for a second. Trying to get his much needed rest from a few seconds of shut eye was ridiculous, but it was better than nothing.

Before he could get up and get back to work, the door to his office slowly opened. He could have looked up to see who it was, not that there were many people who would walk into his office in the dead of night, but he decided to act as if he had fallen asleep for some reason. He just... felt like it. He didn't move an inch as footsteps approached closer to his desk.

"That could be a fire hazard, you idiot."

The mysterious intruder turned out to be just Buggy, which was weird. The clown had no reason to pay him a visit, especially not at this hour. The man picked up the lit cigar on the ashtray and put it out. A few second later, he gently laid a blanket on the "sleeping" man's shoulders, making sure he was covered up nicely. He hadn't moved from his place, so he must have detached his hands to pick it up from wherever.

"You don't have to work yourself this hard, you stubborn old man."

Crocodile was suddenly hyper aware of everything: the smell of Buggy's newly washed hair; his hand on his back, drawing slow circles into his tense muscles... He felt himself involuntarily relax into the touch.

"I could have changed you into something more comfortable and carried you to your bed if you weren't built like a fucking sea king. Oh well, this should do for now."

Before his business partner left the room, he could barely feel him give a kiss on his head. Yet it was enough to make the hairs on his neck stand up.

Buggy walked to the door, trying his best to be silent, and shut the lights. He left with a gentle whisper of "Good night." and Crocodile didn't have it in himself to get up for the next... God knows how long.

Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep just like that. When he woke up the next morning, he had mild back pain from sleeping while hunched over a chair. But despite that, he hadn't slept so well in ages.

No nightmares, just a warm blanket and the lingering smell of shampoo.

[honnelander]

Hi there! Hope you are doing well. I was just wondering if you quit the “go fish” series. If not— there’s no rush. I just wanted to check in and ask how you are and share my compliments for you. I really like your writing style and how you beautifully capture every moment. Sometimes I even go back to reread your go fish series and appreciate how well you paint the atmosphere and each character’s essence. Are there any authors you take inspiration from or books you recommend?

If you are nervous about finishing the series— don’t be. You’re clearly gifted and should trust your intuition. Remember to take care of yourself first. I think your audience will adore anything you post, so don’t stress over it. And if you have a writer’s block but are still pushing through it, good luck. Thanks again for sharing your meticulously crafted work with the community.

hi there 🥹 thanks for checking in (you and everyone else who has been kind enough to leave asks in my inbox and comments on my posts)

I haven’t quit the series, it’s just taking me a hell of a lot longer to finish it than I ever expected due to a lot of different things. I had hit a writer’s block, have scrapped what I’ve started a few times, or didn’t like the idea I had and I didn’t want to rush anything or put something out there that didn’t feel authentic to the series that has touched thousands of people 🥹😭 I want to get this right.

Since writing has been always something I’ve enjoyed getting lost in, I thought now would be a good time to get back into it, especially since I have a lot of personal stuff going on.

Monthsssss ago I had finally started writing the next part for go fish! that I absolutely loved and then, quite literally had forgotten about it. I just went back to my work and re-read it, and it’s already 4.9 k words! I would love to just post the parts that are finished, because the actual confession everyone’s been waiting for months for isn’t done and will probably be another 3,000 words or so. (I tend to get carried away 😅)

So let me know what you guys would prefer! The finished part is 2.3k words. Would you guys like for me to post that? Or just wait longer to read everything at once? It’s definitely be over 6k words, which is how massive the last part was….(I honestly just might post what’s finished bc I feel bad to have left everyone hanging for so long 🥲)

And thank you, thank you, thank YOU for your (and everyone’s!) kind compliments and high praise- I really don’t feel deserving of any of it but it all truly means so much to me. 🥹🤍

To answer your question, I actually don’t really have an author or inspiration that I draw from 🤔 I used to read a ton as a kid (books and fic) and I guess that has helped me find my writing style? I also write things in a way that scratches an itch I have when I look for fic to read. I want just enough details to set the scene and the feelings of the characters but not be bogged down with too much that it drags the pace down 🫠 I’ll never forget when I read IT by Stephen King and it just dragged on FOREVER bc he would write so much word vomit that (in my opinion) took me out of the story and frustrated me. I wanted to get to the good parts but also not miss anything important, so when I write I try to get to the point 😂😅

[ofthemorningstars]

A Black Heart (Part 2)

TerzOmega ~ Secondo's POV ~ Family Fluff ~ Light Angst ~ Resurrection AU 3.1k words Part 1 Ao3 Version

When Terzo is rushed to the infirmary, a reluctant Uncle Secondo must watch Terzo and Omega's oldest child. Trouble ensues. Content Warning: mpreg(cis), pregnancy complications, medical trauma ---

The next morning, Starlight looked tired. He could tell that she had slept like shit, he had heard her whimpering periodically throughout the night. Part of him wanted to go and comfort her, but the rest of him knew that they didn’t have the kind of rapport for that. That was his own fault. 

He braced himself for the day ahead. He knew they would need to go to Terzo’s chambers today to get her some more supplies for her unexpected stay, and perhaps going home for a bit would be a welcome distraction for her. As he applied his face paint, he caught Starlight peeking around the corner, watching with fascination. He beckoned her forward, inviting her into the room. “Uncle Secondo, how come your makeup is different than Papa’s? And how come you wear it every day? Papa only wears his sometimes.” Secondo grimaced at her use of the word “makeup”, an undignified descriptor in his opinion. He bit his tongue against a nasty remark about her father being lazy and no longer doing enough work that would call for him wearing his paint. “I guess your Papa just doesn’t like to wear it as much anymore. He used to have to wear it every day, he didn’t have a choice” he replied. Starlight’s eyes went wide. “Really? Papa looks so pretty with his makeup. Yours is scary, though ” she pouted. Secondo smirked. 

“It’s supposed to be scary, kid. Not pretty.” Starlight gave him an incredulous look, clearly upset. He paused, in disbelief over what he was about to do. “Here. Would you like to help? Make it less scary for me.” He handed her a black cream paint stick. Her face lit up, breaking into a wide, toothy smile, showing her fangs. 

For the rest of the day, Secondo would walk around with a crudely drawn black heart on his cheek, glaring at anyone who looked in his direction, daring an unlucky soul to say a word to him about it. Starlight talked his ear off the whole way to Terzo’s chambers.

When they arrived, Secondo hesitated outside the door for just a second before turning the key in the lock. As they stepped inside, he looked around with surprise; he had never been in their quarters before, and he was shocked at how homey it managed to be. It was downright cozy, feeling lived-in in just the right way, while still looking presentable and curated. Starlight’s artwork not only decorated the fridge but was hanging, framed, on the sitting room walls. Starlight’s room was meticulously decorated, done entirely in soft tones of pink and gold. On the far wall was an intricately detailed mural of some far-off galaxy, clearly painted by hand. There were toy boxes and baskets everywhere, yet they somehow still managed to all be overflowing with toys. There was a pink wooden bookshelf sitting low to the ground, whether for safety or accessibility reasons, he didn’t know, but it was crammed with books of all sizes. On her bed was a mountain of stuffed animals. Starlight ran over to the bed and tackled one of the toys: a large, well-worn tuxedo cat. “Mister Mistoffelees!” she exclaimed, burying her face in its fur. Secondo rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would barely let her watch TV and yet still manage to find the time to show her Cats. Terzo had always had an affinity for musical theater. He spotted an ornately crafted cherry wood crib in the corner, the mattress already neatly made, a mobile of a solar system hanging above it. He supposed it would make sense that the girls were meant to share a room. It had never occurred to him how cramped the ministry’s quarters must be for a family, even the large suites like what they had. Still, they seemed to be making the most of it. It was clearer than ever to Secondo just how loved and doted on his niece was. He was very much not used to witnessing happy, healthy families. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable, like he was intruding on an intimate family moment that he was never meant to be included in.

“Alright kiddo, get your stuff and let's get out of here.” Secondo was eager to escape. Starlight pouted, clearly not wanting to leave now that she was back home. He rifled through her dresser, grabbing clothes at random, not caring if the outfits matched. He gathered a few other essentials before handing her the bag, instructing her to take only what she needed and to make it quick. While she was collecting her things, Secondo decided to occupy himself by crouching down to examine the books on the shelf. There was an impressive range, from baby books to classic literature. He wondered idly which ones were her favorite. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the young girl approaching him until he felt a tickle, first on the back of his neck, then on his cheeks. He saw a flash of purple out of the corner of his eye. Was that a…feather? He whipped around, seeing Starlight giggling, and looked down at his own shoulders, where a purple feather boa was now perched. “That’s Papa’s favorite,” she said with a bright smile, her hands clasped behind her back, but after a moment her face fell. She had reminded herself of their current predicament, he could tell. Panic rose up within him; he desperately wanted to avoid another meltdown. He quickly intervened, not knowing what else to do. “Oh yeah? Got any other dress-up stuff?” He swallowed hard, not believing what he was about to say. “Uncle Secondo wants to feel like a princess.” Starlight wasted no time in rifling through her toyboxes, pulling out a tiara here, a tutu there. Before he knew what was happening, they were both decked out from head to toe in play jewelry and costume pieces. He grumbled as she sat him down at her little table, a cup of imaginary tea in his hand. He was flanked by Mister Mistoffelees on his right, and an ugly babydoll with curly red hair named Annie on his left. She pretended to feed him a plastic scone, and he played along for the sake of keeping her happy and quiet. 

When he realized that it was nearly lunchtime, he stood up and took his new accessories off, insisting that it was time to go drop her stuff off at his place and grab lunch in the great hall, but not even promises of eating with her insufferable Uncle Copia were enough to lure her out of her own bedroom. He compromised, deciding to rifle through Terzo’s fridge until he found something that sounded agreeable to her. They settled down at the kitchen table and ate in companionable silence. He didn’t bother cleaning her room up before they left, deciding that it was most definitely not his problem. The rest of the day was uneventful, but when it was time for Starlight to go to bed, she pulled a book from her bag, begging for him to read it. He squinted at it, looking closely at the title: “Guess How Much I Love You”. “I am NOT reading that,” Secondo said with a scowl. Her face fell. “But it’s my favorite book! Papa and Daddy read it to me every night!” Her eyes threatened to well up with tears yet again. Oh, Secondo was so ready for this experience to be over.

Secondo got to his feet, telling her to stay put while he went into the sitting room. When he returned, he was carrying a thick hardcover book: Ulysses, by James Joyce. Truth be told, he didn’t own many books that were child-appropriate, all satanic texts and ancient grimoires. This one had been a gift, although he’d long forgotten who it was from. Probably some pretentious asshole. He grabbed his reading glasses and sat down beside her. After about five minutes of his droning, she was sound asleep. He got up and quietly closed the door behind him. The next morning after breakfast, Starlight was incessantly demanding another tea party, whining and stomping her feet in a surprisingly bratty show from the usually sweet girl. Satanas, he didn’t know how parents did this every single day. He was beginning to feel run ragged. He swore that when all this was over, he was going straight to the infirmary himself for a vasectomy. 

“What do you mean when you say you want a real tea party?” Secondo asked, exasperated. “Didn’t we have a real tea party yesterday?” Starlight’s nostrils flared as she rolled her eyes. Where the hell did a three year old learn to roll her eyes? He thought back to all the times over the last few days when he himself had done the same thing around her and decided to bite his tongue. 

“Uncle Primo and me have real tea parties with real tea all the time,” she told him, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Of course, it would be Primo who got him into this mess. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not Uncle Primo,” he sneered. She growled under her breath. She fucking growled at him. He was taken aback but decided to move past it when he saw the tears in her eyes, chalking it up to the stress of the week. He let out a long sigh. “Look, kid. Primo is… busy. I’d take you to him, but he’s not at home.” “Why not just use your key?” she asked earnestly. “I don’t have a–” Secondo stopped himself, seeing a way out of this predicament. “Sure. Ok. I’ll use my key.” She skipped the whole way to Primo’s quarters, singing to herself. When they reached the door, Secondo quickly picked the lock, calling on years of experience from his youth. He’d been in Primo’s chambers before, and it was nothing to write home about. Every wall, it seemed, was lined with massive bookshelves, not an inch of space unoccupied by obscure tomes. Thinking on it now, he was probably the pretentious asshole who’d given him that copy of Ulysses…

“Ok kid, show me where he keeps the stuff.” Starlight nodded before hurrying off to the kitchen, on a mission. She pointed out the teaware while he put the kettle on, waiting impatiently for it to boil. He perused Primo’s massive selection of teas and loose herbs, unsure of what to pick, until he settled on one. Chamomile. He’d heard caffeine was bad for kids. Once everything was ready and they were set at the table, he was about to sit down, but Starlight piped up, letting him know that her tea was too hot. “Of course it’s hot, it’s tea. Just blow on it, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” “Uncle Primo puts an ice cube in it for me,” she informed him curtly. He grumbled, going back into the kitchen for her ice. The things he’d done for this needy little ghoul this week…

Starlight talked endlessly about her parents while they sipped. He left without cleaning up, just like he had at Terzo’s. Not his kid, not his problem. 

That night while they were sitting on the sofa watching Tom and Jerry together, right after Starlight’s line of questioning about just why the cat would want to hurt the mouse in the first place, the phone rang. It was Omega. Secondo raced into the other room, hoping for any kind of news at all at this point. As he closed the door, he saw Starlight’s little face pop up over the sofa back, full of concern.

“Hello?” “Hey. Is Star ok?” Omega sounded much better this time. Much less like a man awaiting his own execution. “I– Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. Do you want to talk to her?” Secondo wasn’t sure why he hesitated. 

“Not right now. Can you bring her down here?” Secondo couldn’t get a read the tone of his voice. That worried him. “Right now?” He checked the clock. Eight forty-three. “Yeah. Please. Bring her stuff, too.” Omega said before hanging up. Secondo wondered whatever happened to saying goodbye, but he breathed a sigh of relief. She was going home. Surely that was a good sign.

Right? As a nurse led them to Terzo’s room, Secondo could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He had two overstuffed bags on one arm, and a cowering toddler on the other, resting on his hip. He felt like an overladen mule, but Star had been so nervous about the status of her father that she couldn’t walk, choosing to cling instead. It really would’ve been helpful if Omega had provided him with more information, information that he could relay to the stressed toddler, but that seemed to just be how things went around here lately. Secondo stepped cautiously through the open door of the room, eyes immediately zeroing in on Terzo. Fuck. His brother looked like shit, but he was ALIVE. Secondo’s body sagged with relief, not realizing how much tension he’d been holding until that very moment. Starlight spotted him, too, and she tried to squirm out of Secondo’s hold. He let her go, setting her down on the floor. “Papa!” Starlight yelled, running to him as fast as her little legs would carry her. Terzo looked up from his hospital bed, seeming to have only just now noticed them. His face instantly lit up, budding joy making him look ten years younger.

“Star!” Terzo exclaimed, holding his arms out to her as she climbed up onto the bed. “Careful, Star,” Omega cautioned softly from the chair next to the bed. “Papa has an IV.” He pointed to his own arm to illustrate. She nodded, gingerly crawling over to Terzo, trying not to disturb the tubes and wires coming off of him, and hugged him gently. Terzo, seemingly not paying Omega’s warning any heed himself, hugged her back fiercely, squeezing tight and rocking her from side to side. Secondo saw a tear roll down Terzo’s face, one that he hastily wiped away. Starlight buried her face into the crook of her father’s neck, her tail swishing back and forth happily. When Terzo finally pulled back, it was to place a lingering kiss to her forehead. He examined her, studying her face and looking her over from head to toe.

“Oh, my little Star baby, are you alright? Did Uncle Secondo take good care of you?” Terzo asked, taking her face into his hands. Secondo shot him a dirty look, indignant at his care being called into question, but Terzo only had eyes for Starlight. When she nodded in response, Terzo pulled her back into his arms, sighing. Secondo turned to leave, feeling uncomfortable intruding on such a personal moment. 

“Would you like to meet your niece?” Omega called to him, stopping him as his hand was on the door handle. Secondo hesitated, unsure of himself. For as long as he could remember, he’d always lived his life aloof, detached, never allowing himself softness or weakness. But if these last few days had taught him anything, it was that maybe there was some value in softness, after all, especially if he ever wanted even a taste of the type of happiness they had. “Yes. Of course.” He walked back over to Omega, watching him lift a tiny bundle out of a plastic bassinet that he had somehow managed to overlook entirely. He accepted the bundle with surprising grace as it was thrust into his arms. 

“She’s so small,” Secondo exclaimed, his voice hushed. “She’s a few weeks early, by our estimations,” Omega replied, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Her name is Astrid.” 

Hmm. Astrid. While it was a very lovely name, they certainly had a theme. Secondo studied the infant, noting her full head of dark hair, the same color as his brother’s. Her eyes were closed, and he wondered if she, too, had inherited the family’s infernal white eye, like Starlight had. Her skin was the same dusky grey as her father and sister’s. Her horns, though, were different than theirs, curling slightly to the sides like a ram’s horns. He had to admit, she was quite cute. “Can I see her?” Starlight asked, having finally broken away from Terzo’s embrace. Omega reached to take the newborn back, but Secondo didn’t relinquish her, instead walking her over to her big sister himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting Starlight lean over her, examining her with wide-eyed wonder. She shyly reached out to touch Astrid’s hair, tentatively petting it. “She’s got your hair, Papa!” Starlight said excitedly. Terzo beamed with pride. “Sì, and Daddy's nose,” Terzo crowed. Secondo shifted the baby to one arm, using the other to pat Terzo firmly on the shin. “I’m glad you’re ali– ok. I’m glad you’re ok, brother,” Secondo said quietly. Terzo’s eyes went wide, looking at him with shock, as though he’d grown a second head. After a moment, though, he nodded, smiling. “Thank you for taking care of Star,” was Terzo’s reply, a look of sincere gratitude painted across his features. “Happy to. Looking forward to doing this the next time you’re back in here, too,” Secondo chuckled, teasing. A look of deep sorrow crossed Terzo’s features, one which he quickly tried to hide, pretending to examine his nails. “There won’t be a next time,” Terzo murmured quietly. “Oh?” Secondo was genuinely puzzled. He had thought his brother’s baby fever knew no bounds, especially considering the lengths he’d gone to in order to make it happen. He certainly didn’t expect them to stop growing their family at just two children. Omega cleared his throat, reaching again for his youngest daughter. This time, Secondo handed her back without issue. Omega held her close, rocking her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We can talk about it later,” Omega said, his eyes flicking to where Starlight sat curled up in Terzo’s arms. Ah. Not information for sensitive little ears, then. Terzo wore a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “You can certainly still take her any time you’d like.” Terzo was clearly trying to poke fun at him. Secondo opened his mouth in protest, but Starlight tugged on his sleeve excitedly. “Please, Uncle Secondo?” Starlight looked up at him, her big mismatched eyes full of hope. Secondo cracked a smile against his better judgment, ruffling her hair. “Sure, kid. Come hang out any time.”