#god i love my fucking son!! best scene

[multiscales]

“That’s the spirit, let’s get huge. Kyodaimax!”

[diorcities]

ace of spades (zcl)

☆͟ 🎱:pairing: chenle x afab!reader ☆ genre: smut, mature content. ☆͟ ♠�� content: pwp, gambling, rivals / frenemies, meandom!chenle, softdom!chenle, oral fixation, skin fixation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (chenle pulls out), cum eating, spanking, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, make up sex, biting. some other cautions: small mention of a crime, alcohol consumption, chenle calls himself daddy once, they're both competitive, intense and extend kiss scene (i love writing this), reader makes one incestual joke, featuring jisung, ningning being chenle's sister, haechan, the hwang siblings, ex former nmixx jini, an yujin and hu yunjin. ☆ wc: 6.4k.

☆͟ 🃏description: in the world of asia's rich and powerful, nothing is as it seems. behind the smiles and luxuries, secrets, lies, and betrayals are hidden. a group of pretentious young adults, children of wealthy parents from the asian elite, move between parties, business, and scandals.

son of the west's most famous tech tycoon, chenle is arrogant, capricious, and manipulative; his unquenchable thirst for glory and greatness moves him to do the most despicable things if it keeps him getting what he wants: you.

based on little white lies by one direction. to my friend, @ohmytyong ♡

ningning shares a glance at jini.

“stop that,” she says with annoyance. the girl ends up stopping the clattering of her foot on the pavement and disposing of the cigarette; ningning has lost count of how many she has on.

“what if someone saw us?”

“what if?” ningning responds, distracted. “are you worried, little lamb?” ningning was growing tired of the whining of the girl. pure empty concerns, in her opinion. “i thought you wanted this. i thought... you'd kill for it. what if someone saw us? no, better, what if one of us speaks? would it be her brother? would it be... you?”

“hi, girls.” yeji arrives offering them both a cup of loaded coffee. “god, you look like you're losing your shit,” she says to jini.

“i don't like coffee,” she points out.

“i know,” yeji simply responds.

jini lets out a disbelieving sigh. “fuck! am i the only one who's worried of what we've done?” she utters seeking comfort, as if she didn't already know that she won't find it there.

the girls share a countenance that makes jini more uneasy. she opens her mouth to surely continue complaining when she leaves ningning expectant and dazed when nothing comes out.

“what you've done,” you correct, announcing your arrival. “lighter, please.”

ningning shares fire with you while jini watches you in a bewildered look when you share complicit glances with each other but her. “first murder?” you joke, looking at the girl's colorless face.

the three of you watch pleasurably her head putting the puzzle together and the realization settling in her stomach. “you.”

you smile wide and sharp.

you've always found the strange relationship intriguing. questioning every smile and every look; they all play a game that was best not to get into unless you know how to play equally well.

the queen of the deck game.

ningning, with her wit that sparkles like a sharp diamond always seems to be two steps ahead, leaving you to wonder if her words hide sharper edges. yeji, with eyes that have seen more than they tell, hides her true interests under enigmas, and you wonder if her shadowy wisdom is a guide or a labyrinth. jini, with her appetite for success and fortune echoing like a flame, is attracted so much by the heat that she can't stop until it burns.

sometimes you don't know how far the limit is. sometimes you'd like to know it for yourself. one misstep, one wrong play, the stakes are high, and faces are masks.

although, you've always known how to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

the academy bell rings and you take the coffee from jini's cold hands. you smile condescendingly as the girl seems to have seen a ghost. “next time, do like me and go for the head.”

── 11:30hr 🃏 ago ──

the outlook was promising. the wealthiest people in asia all gathered in one place. the ensembles, clubs, and parties were in abundance as they made deals to become more millionaires with jazz music playing in the background.

the world revolves around the rich. sports cars, expensive champagne, private schools, commodities. the privileged part envied by the masses. gambling, scandals, fraud, felonies, cults, crimes, scams, obsessions was the side that was kept secret. with ambition comes power, and with power comes temptation. something that young blood can't control after tasting a pinch of it.

chenle had had enough of that.

other, less mundane things excited him now. like seeing your delicate skin bristle when you noticed his presence very close to you, your body tense up, your breath freeze in your throat because god forbid it to be so close; chenle had taken all his willpower to contain the urge to bite your naked shoulder.

the eyes of your companions register it under your ignorance. haechan smiles smugly as jisung says, “look who's here. done sucking your father's balls?”

chenle arrives at the circle with a nonchalant air. “ask your mother.” haechan bursts out laughing.

ningning approaches in an ethereal halo with a glass of champagne between her claws of the same shade as her lips. she's machiavellian beautiful, with sharp features, her beauty is certainly a weapon. chenle's aware of the influence ningning has on people, and couldn't be more disgusted by it. “gentlemen, having a reunion without me?”

“god forbid. i have not yet psyched myself up to put up with you so early.” jisung replies, stealing a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

the illusion is stronger when you are together. chenle has grown up with you, he has known you all his life. something so secret and twisted can only exist with people with the same tendencies. and while friendships are bound by affection, you are bound by secrets.

a circle. an alliance. the selected and exclusory society of the young wealthiest children. forged with vice and deception, glory and greed. to be the best. to be the ace.

“so, how's business? making deals to sell personal information to the highest bidder?” haechan wonders, playing with a loose strap of ningning's dress while giving chenle a sly smile although his gaze is not even interested in returning the look at him, somehow spellbound by the nice view in front of him.

he shrugs behind you, “marvelous, how's yours?”

“my dad's closing a deal with one of the big ones. he's been talking to me about it, i couldn't be more bored by the criminal laws,” he concedes, vaguely.

“oh, pardon me. i meant the drug business,” chenle points out causing a flurry of reactions. jisung chokes on the champagne in front of you. his cheeks are flushed and he is flustered from the alcohol.

giggly and careless, your brother's naïveté makes him the weakest link of all. jisung is simply too good and disinterested in anything that doesn't involve going against you. sometimes you wonder if he is so afraid of disappointment that he doesn't even try.

he's never been good at drinking either.

“don't you think you're overdoing it?” chenle casually asks, looking around.

“stay out of my business, would you?” he says fed up before going in his direction and giving him a playful headlock. the pleasant laughter of the pair makes the rest of the group join in just before the music changes and becomes livelier.

ningning lets out a scream and hurries up the champagne, taking haechan to the track without any objection.

“ji, dance with me,” you request under the nagging gaze of the only boy who's unmoved by your charms.

“don't be capricious, sister. you know i don't dance.”

“allow me.”

before you can answer, chenle grabs you and drags you toward the center of the room. the closeness of your bodies only makes it harder for you to manage to stay neutral, not when his fingers seem to be caressing your waist. “how aristocratic, since when do you like to dance?” chenle shrugs his shoulders as he leads you.

“i'm tentative. i am quickly influenced by beautiful things. and because this proximity can be excused if we dance, otherwise, how am i going to be able to tell you without raising suspicions that i know a little secret?”

chenle is entertained by the reaction he gets from you, feeling your heart pounding against his chest. look at you, a whole personification of purity, too bad it can't stand alone. “what about a gentleman never tells?” a sly smile forms on his pursed lips as he hears you.

chenle pulls you to him, your jaw now resting on his shoulder as he embraces you and spins you in his arms. “i am no gentleman.”

“no,” you say, “you're vain, vicious, and perverse.” chenle takes your chin in a playful and twistedly affectionate manner, observing your body slowly spinning until you press your back against his chest. you sway to the melody when you hear chenle clearing his throat. his breath hits your cheek when he laughs then, his hands press you more against him.

you muffle an exhale as you feel him pressing against your back, his hands molding to your waist, the dominant grip he holds you under. “and yet, you find yourself fascinated.” chenle makes you face him, and you shake your head with peppiness. “explain this... lingering feeling every time we touch. i know you feel it too.”

“what thing?”

“this tension.”

“i'm afraid i have no idea what you're talking about.”

“oh, no? may i ask why are you get suddenly agitated when i touch you here.” he moves his hand dangerously toward your naked lower back. “d'you run out of air often, princess, or it's just me?” his warm breath brushes against your ear as he keeps you close.

chenle's intoxicating aroma clutters your thoughts, and you have to make an extra effort not to trip over his feet. “these are your tactics for flirting with girls? i'm very unimpressed.” chenle watches you roll your eyes, curling his lips.

“not remotely close, although i'm pleased that you are interested in knowing my seduction methods. but since you're talking about tactics, i'm deeply curious about whether this is how you act with haechan too or it's just for my eyes only.”

the piece is finished and another one begins right after. however, your bodies remain frozen in the same place, gazes glaring at each other, trying to see weakness, trying not to be the first to bend.

“and that act you talk about is...?”

“playing dumb, which i confess, never looked good on you.” you were always amazed at how chenle's brain worked. calculating wit, this personification of scheming and wickedness made chenle a dangerous adversary.

“i thought you liked them compliant and subtle.”

he hums in denial, “i like them dainty and haunted, like a drowned lily.”

you giggle with a grimace, throwing the boy off. “is that one of your puzzles? sorry, i don't like games.” chenle nods, his tongue playfully pushing the inside of his cheek as he grins in amusement.

you wouldn't be so careful not to play his game. he is a prodigy at plotting, there was nothing that escaped him. the deceptive epitome of why no one beat him at strategy. nothing that would imply competition. billiards, fencing, chess.

if you could describe this interaction, if you could describe even the purpose of the allyship with such devious people it would be a simple card game, and if so, that would make chenle the ace of spades.

chenle escorts you off the dance floor. “no, you just like the chase.”

“what makes you think that?”

he shrugs, with nonchalant air, “i happen to know how much you love the euphoria of being caught doing something you're not supposed to. maybe that's why you hang out with friends who wouldn't hesitate to push you off a cliff, or be part of a circle with such vain people, or how much you want me to fuck you on this dress.”

you burst out laughing, “you're the smartest person in the room.”

chenle delights to see you look around in case anyone has heard him; he also hasn't gone unnoticed the way your breath got stuck in your throat for his words, and you hate yourself for it. he comes so close to you that you smell his manly fragrance. “no. i'm the most ambitious.” his warm lips rest on your skin for less than a second, yet the feeling it leaves in your stomach lasts longer than that.

you let the bewilderment win, and you hate him for that. you hate how he can get into people's heads, how he can mess with yours. by laying his intentions so bare, it can't be that simple. what does he intend to do?

“see you at midnight.”

your eyes follow his devilish figure as he leaves the room, and your hand itches at the place where he kissed you. someone comes next to you and you suddenly feel a sense of rage.

“good evening, would you like to da...?”

a hand reaches out towards you but you cut it off when you pronounce “no.” harshly, reenacting the path taken by the young man with fervent eyes.

── 🃏 midnight ──

the music becomes so subdued, carried by the cool night wind, that it seems like a distant, forgotten dream that slips through a forgotten room full of previous gala guests revealing their true selves after a pretend night when you set foot inside.

there is a pool table in the center where two beautiful bodies touch each other impudently. the air feels heavy and ningning steals a bottle from her father's collection, returning to the hungry embrace of her lover that night.

haechan pulls away from her neck just enough to give you a sly smile.

“well, hi, there,” greets ningning. “done using my brother?” your fingers snatch the bottle of champagne from her, taking a long sip. “oh, i was starting to be afraid that sharing wasn't your thing.” your eyes sweep her under the amused gaze of the tanned boy with lipstick smudged all over his face.

“and i was starting to think incest was your thing.” a pleasing rush washes you by ningning's stunned look, it feels gratifying. “luckily, this is a safe zone.”

she scoffs.

“safe zone, huh?”

“yes,” you assure, “we've grown up together, we're close. it almost feels like family.”

haechan's laughter echoes just when you scan the room.

“cheers to that.” jini laughs, approaching as she drinks from her glass. “let's make a toast for stealing achievements, and stealing boyfriends,” she says to ningning under your bewildered gaze. both girls clink their glasses and their venomous gazes fix on you.

“i don't steal achievements, i own them. but, yes, let's have a toast.” you clear your throat and your fingers steal the glass from jini's hands without her showing any resistance. “to the circle, to camaraderie, to the ace, to boy toys, and last but not least, a toast to the copycats.”

it will always amazed you how you could show your darker side to a bunch of petulant and vain young people and distrust them so much. these people, these twisted people were your friends by default.

besides the pool table, there is a small bar where jisung pours himself a glass of many in the company of the hwang siblings, yeji and hyunjin, sons of the hwang dynasty. their parents were renowned businessmen in the country and that night future partners of your parents, with riches made by extraction and export of precious minerals. haechan was the only child of attorneys who worked in the tax and criminal fields, with the best criminal law firm and soon closing an important alliance at that night's gala. and finally, the zhong. specialized in computer engineering and big data, they've created an empire that ningning and chenle were responsible for squandering.

then there were the... twins? cousins? known, perhaps? you couldn't tell since they both behaved the same way —yujin and yunjin. one was the daughter of fencing's most prestigious director and the other had nouveau riche parents, who were at the time, having a bliss as chenle buried his head (and teeth) in their necks at times.

his shirt is a mess and you soon find out why when yujin runs her hands over his toned, pale chest. then yunjin laughs at something chenle says to her before they both look in your direction and you feel your cheeks burn, choleric.

how dare he? turn you into a joke that he can tell in the ears of his lovers?

“new attendees?” you ask.

“applicants,” chenle corrects.

“in that case, shall we vote?” you suggest, feigning to get the attention of the others. yujin lets out a skeptical huff that chenle tries to ease, but it has already triggered your bigotry. “get. out.”

yujin looks at you dumbfounded as chenle's embrace unravels from their shoulders. helpless, yunjin asks with an anxious laugh, “who do you think you are? chenle?” she seeks for comfort that the boy shakes off when he shrugs his shoulders.

yunjin laughs in awe before leaving in sheer frustration and giving you a dirty look, that you politely respond to with a quick smirk, deciding to back out once you've done your job of ruining his night just as he ruined yours.

you hear chenle's shrill giggle behind you as he decides to follow you closely to the now-unoccupied pool table. “jealous, by any chance?”

“remotely. sick, perhaps.”

“is that what causes you not to have my attention?”

you scoff, “quite the opposite. a friendly game?” chenle takes his eyes off the lower part of your body when you turn around to face him. his darkened eyes go from yours to the cue stick you're holding. a smile dances on his pouting pink lips.

“i like a little bit of challenge.”

“a competition, then,” you solve, going for the rack when chenle intercepts you by taking you by the wrist to go for it instead. the balls are arranged just as ningning's high-pitched laughter breaks out in a soft melody drifting from the floor below.

“stop being so loud, woman.”

jisung turns his head from your direction to look with amusement at the pair. “shall we move the party to the lake?” yeji suggests; they steal a couple more bottles, and a couple of cigars making their way to the exit amidst stumbling and fraternal hugs. jini stays behind, pulling away from jisung and hyunjin's arms to ask, “you coming?”

chenle is not interested in looking at her when he replies “in a moment.” his eyes fixing on yours. a slit of light enters through the half-open door of the illuminated corridor, and chenle's eyes absorb every glimpse of it. “do the honors.”

the crackling of a fireplace warms the place and flutters your chest, or is the gentle brush on chenle on your waist when you head toward the cue ball. chenle watches you from the other end, and that's why your body leans more than necessary and the breeze hits your cleavage.

“has the match already started?” he wonders, darting his gaze from you. his wild eyes following the path of the balls shooting in all directions; you see his mind scheming behind his focused gaze as his feet move in the direction of his target.

chenle disappears from your view and your body betrays you when you smell his lingering fragrance closer. feeling his presence behind you, the proximity once again tortures you. your body is caught in the middle as he prepares to shoot the cue ball with you in his arms.

the warmth emanating from his body impact your naked back as he pins you between him and the table, makes possible for you to feel the growing bulge pushing against your lower back; the unexpected friction catches you off guard. your pelvis twitches in an involuntary motion and chenle misses the cue ball.

he muffles a sound at the time you bite your lips, struggling to suppress the thrill of electricity that runs through you when your mind becomes dense and thick. your body charge with elation and you blush when he hums, the mere gesture sending shivers down your spine. chenle tenses against your body as your back gives in and arch into him, hips moving slightly upward feeling his erection a little more pressing up your butt; the thin fabric of your dress causing the sensation to feel even rawer.

your mind doesn't think it through as you lean across the table taking the cue stick from his hands. fingers instinctively going to your waist as you bend over. dizzily sensing the hardness of his boner, your chest heaves as an avid thrill takes force in your gut.

chenle welcomes you again when you get up and the number 1 ball has entered the pocket. you feel his haunting presence as he removes the cascade of hair from your shoulder and moves closer to your ear, “and it's only just beginning to be midnight.”

you hum, “i'm done with the fun here, i'd like to go to the lake now.” a gasp of surprise freezes in your throat as his hand squeezes on your waist and easily turns you around. you witness the words that freeze in his throat as his gaze drifts below your clavicles, and you are aware at that moment of the soft hardness of your nipples, poking through the silky fabric.

a velvety feeling creeps down your thighs as a smirk blooms on his lips. “not the smartest decision, but sure shit, princess. anything else you crave for?”

“not really.”

a gasping sound comes out of your mouth when chenle squeezes you close to him without forewarning. something wild flutters in your chest under the young man's sharp gaze. your lips part to let out shallow exhalations when his mouth dangerously lurks on yours, tingling with anticipation. eyes closing against your will and body giving in to his command. you become lighter as he holds you like he pleases. “you sure?”

the answer trembles on your lips, but you are unable to say it.

chenle enjoys having you this way. seeing you so affected, your body reacting the way he wants it to. “say the magic words, princess.” you swallow hard when he lurks on your exposed neck, surprising you when your head pulls back to give him more access.

you wait. you anticipate his lips finally resting on your skin, blood burning in your veins, eager to feel him, but you are stunned when he pulls away just enough to look at you again.

your eyesight has become narrow, covered with black fog, your gaze feel heavy if you try to focus on him. you look at him with narrowed eyes. breath becoming a wild beast that writhes and lashes out at your ribcage. mind blurring his sculpted figure with sharp strokes, smooth and tender skin that reveals the first three buttons of his wrinkled shirt.

fuck it.

his fingers dig painfully gently into the untouchable skin of your waist as you slam into his body and your lips attack his. teeth and tongues meeting in disorder, wild gasps as your mouths devour each other to the point of dissolving the other.

his mouth feels hot. his taste addictive. your tongue savor his while your fingers mess up his hair. pull. caress; your emotions scatter and get tangled. your body hums and you find yourself out of breath as you feel him pushing you backwards until you hit the edge of the pool table.

chenle pants against your lips and your instinct is to reach out and bite them with desire under layers and layers of resentment.

“shit.” he mutters, hissing. heart pounding his chest while your hands won't stop touching him. he can do nothing but gasp desperately. he wants everything. being bitten, caressed, kissed.

he wants you. he craves you. always has. his body burns from the rawness and cruelty in which he desires you. your body stuck to his, your predatory eyes on him... his head pulls back, briefly having a lucid moment, and he pants “one last chance.”

his fingers glide down your soft thigh and your eyes close, sensitive. receptive. you feel him position himself between your legs, your thigh slightly brushing against his hips. you see him grit his teeth. one of his hands wraps around your neck gently, his thumb brushes your jaw before bringing his face closer, and you ask “for...?”

“stop pretending.”

you scoff. you delight in watching him frown in annoyance before he falls into a trance as you wrap your wet lips around his thumb. you're able to see in his eyes the urge he tries to repress. how he tries to keep pace with his breathing. how he tries not to get excited about the way your mouth sucks his finger before he chuckles under his breath.

all your boldness shakes as he locks you between his body, hands gripping your waist and assisting you to sit on the board. your arm instinctively wraps around his neck. faces very close. dangerously close. yet chenle doesn't give you a break, and you sense his next move when he tilts his head and kisses you again. unscrupulously. like a hungry man. split lips for his tongue to tease you and taste you a thousand times, breaths suffocating in the other's mouth. tongue swirling over yours before his lips hover over your mouth. chenle sucks playfully, drawing you towards him. sticking to his body. his hands rest on your lower back as he lets you take the reins of the destructive kiss in which your mouths merge.

heads turning the other way when the other does, deeper, safer, bolder kisses. an eternity or maybe a second has passed, in which your mouths meet infinitely, lips fitting into each other, moving to the same beat as the other, imprinting thousands of repressed emotions that you taste them on each other's tongue.

your body reacts to his midas touch. fingers running down your back, arching against him. belly holding everything in a ball that begins to grow and expand, feeling heavier, and harder to keep at bay. it twists you inside and melts towards your intimacy, making you want more.

he breaks the kiss and you watch his arrogant expression falter as he pulls himself together, “well?”

your breathing is ragged and your thoughts are scattered all over the room. your head pulls back, cornered, “fine! i need this, badly.”

“that's my girl,” he rushes to say, succumbing in front of you as his mouth attacks your neck.

his tongue slides down the hot vein that throbs under your sweet skin and it's taking all your will not to whine loudly. a grunt leaves his lips and hits your skin when your nails burrow into his flexed arm, moaning breathlessly. “look at that, she can moan.” your mind collapses from the silky sensation that begins to fill you and makes your fingers go towards his hips, searching for the buttons of his pants.

chenle pulls away from you and helps you take off your pants. your hands finding the bulging from the erection underneath. mouth begins to salivate as the edges of your vision blur, teeth catching your lower lip when a gasp comes out of you. tummy burning with aching desire to see it, hurriedly grabbing your hands on the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down to reveal his manhood.

emotions are too strong to think clearly. turns you into a disaster of clashing mouths and groping. your body buzzes with the intoxicate feeling chenle causes you as he grazes your body and attacks your mouth with fiery kisses. you let the primitive pleasure that lashes your being make you submissive to him when he pulls you down from the table by your thighs and forces you to turn around. his fingers tangle with the bottom of your dress as he pulls it up and exposes your body. “fuck. you know how much i love lacy things.” any hint of a response is undone when you feel his fingers touch your core due to the lack of fabric covering your intimacy.

your breaths freeze for related reasons.

his digits massage the area with delicacy and you feel like you are about to lose your mind. “so deliciously wet.” your body breaks at his diabolical touch. fingers up your folds to the swollen and needy area.

your throat builds a cry. your eyes shut tightly. chenle's fingers slide down at your entrance until they detach from you. the scream comes out of your mouth when he spanks you. “easy, pretty. you'll want to keep it quiet.” his digits attack your clit once again and you dig your teeth into the forearm that holds you against him while his fingers abuse you. eyes roll as he sticks his middle and ring finger into you and starts pumping rhythmically, the coldness of his rings nibbling on the sensitive skin of your entrance. “so soft. so good taking it, darling.” a shudder hits you from the smooth and solid of the material pressing deliciously against you while his digits fuck you.

sounds burst out of you against your will at the pace of his swirls. your walls take chenle's fingers until the squelch sound joins your moans. he pulls his fingers out of you and spanks you again before pulling your panties down.

he makes you take them off completely before he comes back with you and you can feel him press the tip of his penis into your folds, sliding up and down, covering his erection with your luscious excitation to push it inside you with ease. the full feeling leaves you breathless and you find yourself letting out a breathy giggle from the pleasurable sensation that blooms in your lower belly when he stuffs you with his cock.

chenle rocks in and out of you, getting you used to his length, and your legs tremble as he does so, feeling the shot of arousing sensation every time he thrusts you. your heart flutters as the speed changes and you find yourself gasping for breath. pelvis begins to hammer yours mercilessly. your crotch fills with dripping, numbing pleasure as your body twitches and contorts, having moved nothing. chenle dominates you. he holds you in place to receive each merciless, demonically good thrust. moving one hand to your mouth when you threaten to scream from how well he's fucking you. legs trembling as your pussy takes him again and again, you welcome him into your slippery, swollen walls, feeling sensitive. his cock penetrates you with sharp, swift thrusts and you find yourself in space, taking him deliciously. belly filling with searing fire that threatens to spill into your bloodstream.

“god, you feel so well, you feel s—so nice, angel.” chenle fails to contain his own moans, and his teeth bury into the smooth skin of your shoulder, muffling the moans in your skin as he buries his cock and your pussy begins to tingle. “a-ahgh, fuck!” your lips are caught in your canines at the growing knot in your belly as chenle hammers you ruthlessly.

your eyes squeeze closed and a white noise takes over your mind as you try to find your train of thought, but all your common sense vanishes from your hands before the delicious pumping of his cock abusing your needy pussy; heat spreading from your belly and spilling down your thighs.

it takes almost all of your strength not to succumb right there. to not let the wonderful sensation of his cock driving you to ecstasy.

“o-oh god, chenle,” you cry. your body collapses on the pool table and causes chenle to thrust you from another angle. eyes rolling to the back of your head and moaning building up and spilling from your lips from how good it feels. chenle hisses “s-shit, don't stop moaning. f-fuck, yn. you feel so fucking amazing. sound so exquisite.” his thrusts become sharper, your body jolts and the feeling leaves you dizzy and groggy, mind blank as the pleasurable sensation takes over your body.

chenle grabs you tightly by the waist as his pelvis hammers yours roughly, the sound of your skins clashing filling the room along with your moans and the squelching noise of your cunt taking him with each stroke.

the snap of your skin when his palm hits your butt pulls you over the edge. your hands turn to fists as you try to hold it inside, but the fire crackles inside you, and a pleasurable pain forms in your core. the tingling sensation spreads through your belly wildly and you must stifle a scream.

“feels good, princess? too good? want to cum on my cock, baby?” he coos, “fuck, let me feel you. i need to nut in you so bad, need to stuff you nice and pretty.” his cold hands pull you up and slam you against him, starting to stroke your hard nipples, your lips part open to release a curse that chenle waits for with expecting eyes. “fuck, i'm so close,” he announces, stopping briefly to catch his breath.

chenle suddenly chuckles behind you, “yn, don't fucking tell me you're making this a competition?” your laughter turns to an eager gasp when the switch the pace.

the constant movement has turned you into a whining mess as you try to encapsulate your newfound desire. your dress has wrinkled and the straps that hold them now lie undone, exposing your breasts that press against the pool table moving slightly from the magnitude of chenle's pounding.

your head pulls back and a hoarse moan breaks on your lips as his mouth rests on your neck and his teeth nibble on your skin as the thrusts slow down. your body feels enraptured and weak, and your muscles don't respond to your commands, totally carried away by the crushing desire.

chenle mutters something under his breath before his hands leave your breasts and you feel him cover them again with your dress. your cloudy gaze rests on the half-open slit of light coming in from the hallway, and like a spell you return to your five senses as you process what chenle has said before. your hearing comes back to you the moment you hear someone approaching the room, and something wrinkles in your stomach as you feel chenle still inside you, with no hint of pulling out his cock of you. tummy burning with aching thrill when the door opens and a figure hidden by the shadows stops right at the entrance.

your body is embalmed with terror when you recognize the figure. “sungie,” you pronounce, feeling your mouth dry. jisung slowly enters the room and your body tenses; chenle stands still behind you but one step closer and jisung would be able to see that his pants are on his calves. and your dress is wrinkled and moved up to your waist. and his dick is shoved down inside you. you swallow very hard. “still on the billiard match?” he asks with curiosity as he passes the two of you and heads to the bar.

“as you can tell,” chenle blurts out, and takes you by surprise when he moves his pelvis towards you; his penis slides easily in, then you feel him slide out. your cheeks burn at the notion that he's really fucking you while your brother is in the room, “will you take too long? we're in the middle of something.”

your eyes widen in panic at the choice of words and your belly tightens in turn because you're still aroused and because chenle keeps rocking you torturously slow and deep.

“mmm,” jisung hums and forces you to hold back the grimace of pleasure that was beginning to form on your face when he looks over his shoulder. “just came back for more cigars.”

your hand squeeze chenle's bicep as he shoves his cock, hitting the delicious swollen spot inside, rocking side to side to make sure you feel him against your walls, full length coated with your creamy arousal. your hips react impulsively and you grind against him when his hand pushes your stomach towards his dick and you feel it buried in you.

his eyes meet yours when you look over your shoulder, smiling smugly, “just like that.”

“screwing up.” fuck, he said what you think he said? you both stop abruptly when he walks towards you and stops right at the other end of the table. his eyes squint you for what seems like an eternity until his sight falls on the billiard balls. “the game's pretty much fucked up from the way i see it.” he clicks his tongue, “i'll let you to it.”

jisung barely leaves the room when you feel chenle slide out of you. your throat forms a groan when you feel the emptiness in your pussy, forced to die instantly when he spin you on your heels and his hands tug hard at your dress. “hey, this is silk, moron!”

you let him strip you of your dress and manipulate your body as he sees fit when he makes you sit on the edge of the table to slide the fabric down your knees when he responds, “i'll buy you a new one. only if you let me take it off.” the cold bites your bare skin and chenle's heavy, dark gaze devours it. your breath condenses in your throat by the primal look of the boy contemplating your body; it fills you with infinite glory to know how affected you are that your legs spread open.

his eyes fall on your crotch and something furious flutters on your belly when he licks his lips. “gonna stand there and look stupid?”

a wail of surprise escapes your lips as his cold hands open your legs wider to position themselves between them. your hands grind on his shirt, unbuttoning it with nimble fingers as you feel his mouth creeping around your neck. “you look so fucking delicious.” warm lips sit on your sensitive skin and for a moment you forget what you're doing, rolling your eyes as his teeth finally bury themselves in the smooth flesh and his cock enters you slowly.

you feel every inch he pushes inside, hands making you grind against him until he shoves it all the way in and leaves you stargazing.

your moans in unison gather in the air. “o-oh, god.” you swallow hard. face burning and tickling with raw desire damping chenle's cock when he begins to pound you.

chenle's head buries in your breasts and nibbles and sucks on your tits, tongue wrapping around your hard nipples, before taking them in his mouth one and then another, sending shivers down your spine. your insides tighten as he hums and you feel the vibrations of his vocal cords deep within you, wreaking havoc on your sanity.

you're completely out of your head. spacing. thoughts liquefy with every hard thrust he gives you. legs trembling with pleasure as your mouth spills moans one after the other. “jesus, le, o-oh~.” you lock glances with him, watching his face twitch excitedly, brows furrowed, and skin starting to sweat. “so good, princess.” his mouth attacks you fiercely in a wet kiss before his lips move to your shoulder, where he sucks and bites.

chenle makes you drown out a sound when he lunges at you and pushes you against the pool table, laying you on it while his fingers burrow into your ribs without stopping the haunting hammering of his pelvis. cock hitting over and over your sweet spot, making you smile mesmerized at how good it feels. hissing and groaning, “yes, yes.” fog clouding your senses, sharp pain numbing your limbs, dick fucking you so good. “o-oh—” you cry from pleasure, back arching and tears forming on your eyes. the crushing climax coming closer, you bite your lips, troubled.

your body arches and twists, pelvis moving in a spasm towards him, “fuck!” he pants, “fuck, i'm close, s-so close.” his eyes close savoring the thrilling moment of ecstasy that embraces him. your body goes into another spasm as the searing pleasure spills into your belly and runs wildly down into your pussy. “chenle—” a scream escapes your throat before your mind is clouded with white noise and your body is paralyzed before it starts to suffer waves of strong spasms.

chenle drinks every pronounced throb of your pussy, and delights in your clenching walls wrapping around his cock empties his seed inside before taking his length out and milk the rest on your stomach. pearls of cum dripping into your tummy as his hot nut inside you starts to slide out.

the fog begins to recede from your thoughts and now you find yourself totally sober to say “le,” in a whine, staring at your stomach, “you better clean this up before someone comes in.”

your hand gets lost in his hair as he comes down to you and his mouth begins to clean his cum from you. an excited laugh assails you when he also takes the opportunity to bite your belly.

you bite your lip when he gives your pussy a lash with his tongue. sucking and tasting your velvety arousal. you drown out a groan and a current shakes your body. chenle diligently wipes the remnants of ejaculation with his mouth, taking his time. hands spreading your legs wider as he teases you, tongue swirling against your folds and your entrance before moving to your swollen clit.

you let out a shaky groan when you suddenly remember something.

“you still have my panties, a souvenir?” you taunt.

chenle pulls back far enough for you to look into his eyes, mouth pulling away from your pussy when a smile forms on his lips. your body shakes in anticipation just as he pronounces, “a trophy.” he comes over and kisses you, the taste of his cum mixing on your tongue before you break the kiss and look out the door.

“d'you hear that?” you utter.

“the wind?” he says, making a pretense of kissing you again but you stop him.

“someone was there,” you pronounce, blood rushing up your neck just as a knot grips your stomach. “jisung! oh, my god, jisung was standing there!” you squeal, panicking.

chenle removes your nails off his skin and rolls his eyes “okay, and? hope he enjoyed the show, that fucking heathen.”

you shake your head, starting to freak out. “oh, my god! no! it can't be, right?... he c-can't-” you breathe before your eyes glaze at chenle, because the more you come out of lethargy and hysteria takes hold of you the clearer your mind becomes, and the sharper the figure in the hallway. “that foul harpy.” chenle sighs and holds a hand to his septum in anticipation.

“jini,” he states as if it were some kind of poison.

“you have to do something about it.”

chenle snorts, in disbelief. “like, what? killed her?”

“seduce her or something!”

he bursts out laughing. “yn, are you serious right now? remind me why would i do that?”

“because, because! she's blinded by greed. she'll tell everyone, and no one can know, jisung can't know. he'll ruin me.” you mutter.

“because you're daddy's girl?” he sneers maliciously. his eyes squint at you when he sees you so tormented.

you see him debating behind his wild eyes whether to help you or not and panic lures in you. shit. you're willing to cry if it means convincing him, and he can notice it, because he clicks his tongue in delight. “yn, yn, yn,” he says like a mantra, “fine, fine.” he gives in, watching you whipping away the fake tears.

“let daddy take care of it.”

there was no way to describe the relationship you had with zhong chenle. it could be this symbiosis where both parties could get what they wanted. putting your reputation in his vain hands not only made you feel stupid but at the same time relieved. despite being a manipulative liar, he had ambition. you don't think you can remember a time when he didn't get away with something he truly wanted. there was no better prospect than to leave your faith in the hands of his machiavellian wit.

so you return to the party, trying to look composed. but chenle is still haunting your head and not allowing you to concentrate. your parents introduce you to some important figures and you are forced to put up the best façade because jisung is nowhere to be seen to help you.

thinking about jisung doesn't help either.

chenle: meet me at the pier.

the cold nibbles your skin as you make your way to the old zhong pier. you used to come when you were younger in the summer to lie with ningning and jini on the shore to sunbathe before getting splashed by your brother and chenle. vacations on the lake were full of refreshing days where you either took a swim or lay on a boat where you fell asleep from the swaying.

the lake is frozen by a thin layer of ice, and the closer you get, the more you can hear the laughter and pleasant chatter that others have a little further away from you.

there's a cut-out silhouette at the edge of the pier, waiting for you.

“le.”

jini turns around and smiles at you sharply. “just the copycat.”

you smile patiently.

“dear jini, tell me what you plan to do? murder me?” you mention, stepping closer. “are you going to push me into the lake? literally stab me? i'm hard to kill, and i wonder, how long will it take before someone comes?”

“do you really think someone will come?” she utters furrowing her eyebrows, “your brother? who lives under your shadow? hyunjin or yeji, after telling them that you were against the agreement with their parents? ningning, who hates you as much as i do? haechan, or perhaps chenle?” her eyes sparkle when she mentions his name, and the implicit of it gives you chills when you start to doubt whether it was he or she who sent the message.

“you want everything i want,” you provoke.

“gosh, you're so self-centered, aren't you? taking space, and taking the things that were for others. you don't realize this is your end, and no one will come to your rescue. chenle won't come to your rescue,” she corrects.

“oh, no need,” you say simply. “i've always loved to be a martyr, it's poetic.”

“you're quite a psychopath.” she laughs, and it's only at that moment that you notice how much she's been getting closer to you as you talked. “i... like to be ambitious.”

a scream freezes in your throat as she pushes you toward the lake.

── 8:02hr 🃏 after ──

[letsgetrowdy43]

Wedding bells—

Quinn Hughes x reader

Request: 🌼 Quinn - he’s drunk and you have you take care of him, I feel like he’d be a cute cuddly drunk

Captain Huggy Celly

Brady's wedding was beautiful, in every sense of the word. Every detail felt so intimate and romantic, from the ceremony and reception, even down to the colour of the tablecloth. The moment the Hughes family stepped foot on the venue, Y/n knew it would be an amazing day, and she was right.

That same sense of love seeped into the night as the sunset and the drinking started. Quinn was the centre of Y/n's attention all day, looking as handsome as ever in his groomsman suit, with a fresh haircut for the big day, and a wide-lopsided grin.

He watched as his best friend, his brother more or less, became a husband. The realization that they were adults was heavy as Brady kissed his bride. Nostalgia filled his senses as he looked down at the crowd to look at Y/n watching him, tears in her eyes at the love in the air as he smirked at her.

As the night rolled in so did the party, everyone found themselves inside the reception hall, live music playing as the drinks poured and the dancing started.

A wide smile found its way onto Quinn's face as Ellen pulled him out to the dance floor. Luke looked at her with a grin and extended his hand, "my mom stole your man," he joked as she took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. "He is her son," the girl shrugged as Luke and she kept a friendly distance as they danced around the floor, giggling at Jack who was stuck dancing with the flower girl, a face full of what seemed embarrassment and adoration as the little girl made him twirl around.

She loved this family, she thought to herself as Luke spun her around and Jim took pictures from the sidelines.

"Your wedding will be nicer than this," Luke mused as she looked at him with an amused look. "It'll be pretty hard to beat this," she shrugged. Luke shook his head, "I don't think so, no one loves like you and Quinn love each other," the boy said sweetly making the woman's face soften.

Y/n smiled softly at the thought of her wedding day. She would be happy just eloping if that's what Quinn wanted, but the fuss would be nice, the intimacy, the romanticism of it all was something she had dreamed of since she was a little girl. Marriage wasn't a foreign subject to her mind, Quinn and her had discussed the subject frequently, both agreeing on a small wedding on some vineyard in Kelowna, wanting the homey feeling of summer to surround them on their special day, very Quinn and Y/n-esque.

Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from her thoughts, searching the crowd for Quinn. Ellen was now sat at a table with Jim and the Tkachuk parents, and Quinn was nowhere to be found.

"Do you see Q?" the girl mumbled to Luke who was quietly laughing at the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. Brady, Josh, and Quinn were going shot for shot at the bar as the band started to play some more upbeat songs. "Oh god," Y/n laughed as she and Luke approached the bar. "Have fun with that," he patted his sister-in-law on the back and left in search of his other brother.

Quinn grinned shyly at his girlfriend as she approached the bar, "Looks like you three are reliving the university days," her brows raised as Josh laughed. "Learn to live a little Y/n/n," Brady joked as he set off to look for his wife. The woman's jaw dropped as Josh mumbled his agreeance with Brady, "your friends love to hate me Q." "Fuck 'em Dove, they suck," he said with a sickeningly sweet smile as his arm found its way around her torso, hugging her closely to his side as she looked at Josh and stuck her tongue out at him.

The girl turned to look up at her boyfriend, a hazy drunk look taking over his face as he dipped down and kissed her on the cheek, something he'd practically been dying to do all day, missing her touch, her warmth.

His hands squeezed her hips as she grinned at the attention, "you look a little drunk my love," he grinned and nodded. "Drunk on your love," he whispered smoothly into her ear before kissing her on the neck, her face heated up as she melted into his hold, "Sorry, that was cheesy," he admitted. "I liked it," she grinned and took one of the hands on her hip and kissed his knuckle, the two of them swayed to the music as they watched the newlyweds family come together to dance.

"I want our wedding to be like this," she mumbled as he grinned into her shoulder. "With fewer people?" he asked, smiling as she nodded, "we should get married soon," he suggested followed by a hiccup, her eyes widening at his nonchalant idea. "You need to propose first my love," she said cooly, her fingers intertwining with his. Quinn chuckled and placed another kiss on the sweet spot on her neck, "I'm working on it Dove, promise," The smell of whiskey hit her senses as she spun around and captured his lips with hers.

Perfect, her life was perfect in every sense of the word.

-

-

-

I steered away from the prompt I'm sorry!! but I just started writing and lost sense of my original plan :)

[mosneakers]

Jill: Belladonna, sweetheart, I know what that blue aura means when I see it. You holdin' up okay?

Coni swallows, her shoulders slumping as she shrugs softly. She can’t find the right answer, her eyes fixed helplessly on what's left of her world crumbling to dust before her. Coni: I should have said something a long time ago. Jill: Oh, honey, you don’t have to carry that blame. There are extraterrestrial beings everywhere doing the same thing—keeping their identities hidden to protect themselves, and for good reason. You did what you had to do.

Jill Smith lightly brushes her infant son's head to soothe him, a subtle gesture to reassure Coni of her maternal nature.

Coni: But the Darlings can be trusted, though. We didn't have to keep this from them. Jill: Well... maybe. Coni: ...Sorry? Jill: I don't know, dear. It seems to me like some of those characters may not have been who you thought they were. Coni stares blankly ahead at the grim scene unfolding in front of her, deeply contemplating the weight of Jill's words.

Tycho: Why? If you knew this entire time, why did you string me along? Another wave of shock crashes over her; every muscle in her body feels like it's screaming, and she can no longer contain her rage. Like a defensive fawn posturing as fierce to fend off a predator, she steps forward and furiously shoves him, stumbling clumsily over the high heels that had earlier tonight driven Tycho wild.

Coraleye: I'm sorry, what? I gave you chance after chance after chance to come clean—to do the right thing. But instead, you tried to steal my goddamn memories! Our memories! The private things kept just between us—were they not sacred to you? Huh? Tycho: I struggled so much, okay? The guilt ate at me every single day. But I guess it turns out I wasn't the only one lying here. I feel like such an idiot. Coraleye: [Mock-sympathetic tone] Oh! It really hurts, doesn't it, baby? Welcome to my life! Only the joke’s on me— because I lied to myself, too. I fully convinced myself you'd come around, that we’d build a life together. I was ready to give you my babies, my hand in marriage, my whole future. But no, you couldn't help yourself. You get off on fucking with my head. Well guess what? You can't control me, Tycho. You never could.

Tycho: Control you? Coraleye, I was never trying to control you. I put it off for so long because I didn't want to scare you off. I thought there could be a chance I'd lose you—lose what we had. Coraleye: Well if you thought that would scare me off, then you have no idea who I truly am. Tycho: That's never been clearer. Given your reaction now, seems I was right to believe that. Coraleye: Yeah, now! God, Tycho, your double standard is insane. Are you happy, now that Erwin's out of the way? You never did quite get that jealousy trait under control, did you?

Tycho: Am I happy? What's wrong with you? Why would you say something like that? Erwin's my best friend. You know what? You’re no better than me. If you’d just been honest from the start, instead of sneaking around, we could’ve worked together to protect him—and your brother, too! I know I was a coward and a liar, but you’re just as much to blame for all this as I am, and you know it.

Coni: I… I can't do this. They’re putting our friend to death, and I can’t just stand by and watch the world burn while it happens. I can’t stop them, but I can’t let him die alone.

Jill: I see. You'd like to leave for the cosmos? Should I tell your friends you'll be back?

Coni: [Pauses, shakes head] No. Please give them all my love.

The storm inside Coraleye comes to an abrupt halt, leaving her mind reeling in the eerie wreckage. This is what I get for breaking the rules and following my heart, she thinks to herself.

Tycho instantly recognizes the harm in his words and desperately tries to take them back, but it's too late—Coraleye severs their relationship. He doubles down, and the tension escalates until officers must intervene, dragging them apart as they curse and scream.

In the midst of the chaos, Coni Breeder quietly slips away, leaving for a distant planet to spend the remainder of her days as Belladonna Darling Goth.

[infinityinakiss]

*agatha all along episode 5 spoilers*

holy shit that was a fucking episode alright

i loved the broom scene so much, whoever thought of that gets a raise.

rio being protective of agatha and her mommy issues I WANNA CRY also even the fact that rio knows any of her trauma implies that they were basically wives, agathario fans keep wining.

rip alice, but also i think she's alive, or at least gonna come back in some way. rio disappeared for some reason y'all and i think it was to deal with alice. with the way that rio was looking at agatha after she drains alice's power, it doesn't make sense that she would just disappear when it was clear that agatha needed her, unless there was something more pressing to deal with. so rio went to talk to alice.

i hope.

oh my god agatha trauma episode. so much to unpack there. the fear she had and the confusion in her eyes. her disbelief towards why her mother would continuously hate her and hurt her, over and over again. she was never able to leave that 18 year old version of herself that her mother tried to execute. then there's nicholas scratch. her son, pleading with her to stop. her mother, and her son, two swords in her heart. one she couldn't get to love her, and one she couldn't stop loving.

did she lie when she said she lost control? i vote no. her power draining thing had always started out as a form of protection, that then evolved in to becoming who her mother always thought she was. in this moment, she's terrified. she saw a rope that was thrown the well and she grabbed it.

now the juicy bit.

"you're so much like your mother" THE WAY I SCREAMED

TEEN YOUR MOM IS SO PROUD RIGHT NOW

IT WAS AMAZING, NO NOTES, BEST WAY TO DO THE WHOLE WICCAN THING IN MY HUMBLE OPINION

i love the lack of lines in the whole scene, and just letting the acting speak for itself. especially because most of the viewers already knew that he was wiccan, i really love that they didn't have agatha completely spell it out for us. i think they're at least a bit aware that this wasn't a twist, just something that was exciting.

the way wanda's magic is just so recognizable. i think joe locke did a pretty good job emulating wanda's fighting style. the fingers were on point.

i was really surprised that agatha wasn't a tiny bit concerned when she found out that teen was the child of the scarlet witch, the very person who decimated her after knowing magic existed for a solid two hours. plus it seems to be implied that she figured out who he was because she recognized his magic. it doesn't make sense that she would taunt a person that she knows has a family history of fucking shit up when they're distressed.

PHENOMENAL SONG CHOICE

i don't think this was an actual trial. i think this the road realizing that this is a coven with too many walls that needed to be broken. and i think it recognized an incredibly powerful witch that needed to figure out who he was. maybe the road thought that a spot for a protection witch needed to open up so that he could fill that space. the way the episode was structured, the way the trial was structured, didn't really line up with the other episodes. so i think agatha's real trial is coming later.

THE HEAD TILT. truly his mother's son.

wanda, come pick up your kid, he's doing something stupid

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 9

summary: post-mission drinks and another flashback :) call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: WE'RE BACK AGAIN! I'm super proud of this chapter (it may be my longest!) so I hope y'all like it :') Some of you may recognize a scene in the flashback from the original MW franchise, and you would be correct! I used that as a loose outline for a little Ghost/Freyja (pre-call sign) moment A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @halfmoth-halfman for being the best betas and @peachesofteal for always spitballing. Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Freyja checked on Arthur in his crib one final time, confirming that the little baby was still sound asleep, before closing the door to her bedroom with his monitor in hand. After arriving home following the gala mission, Freyja relieved Gaz of his babysitting duties and finished putting her son to bed while Simon took the first shower. They quickly swapped out so he could check on Joan and she could wash her makeup off.

As she came down, Soap was already sitting on the opposite end of the couch as Gaz, a glass with a hefty pour of amber liquid in hand. His mohawk was damp, indicating he must have showered in their guest bath. Her husband was leaning back in their oversized armchair, dressed in sweats and a black tee. God, if their friends weren’t there…

Freyja positioned herself between his open legs and leaned down, hands resting on either side of Simon’s head, to briefly press their lips together.

He inhaled softly through his nose and brushed his thumb against her bare thigh. “Mmm,” he hummed, then broke off the kiss. “Hi, love.”

“Hi…” She shifted down to join him, bent legs draped across his lap as she cozied up. “How’s Joan?”

Simon reached his open hand around her knees until it came to rest on her outer thigh. “Sound asleep. Gaz did a good job-”

“Make out!” Soap interrupted, smiling into his glass as he downed his drink. “I’ll give ye a hundred pounds.” 

Her husband sent the sergeant a pointed look accompanied by a signature eye roll.

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon!” Johnny whined, head thrown back. “Ah’ve never seen ye winch for real!”

“I’m not a whore,” Freyja started, raising a brow at Simon. “But a hundred pounds is a hundred pounds. I’ve fucked you in public for less.”

He chuckled softly at that, starting to rub her freshly moisturized leg, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You fuck me in public for free,” Simon pointed out with a long, lingering kiss on her cheek. The motion sent shivers up her spine that she purposefully chose to ignore.

“CLAM UP!”

“You’re the one who asked me to make out with my husband, you perv!” Freyja cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. Simon still had his nose buried by her ear, his deep timber chuckling softly in her ear. Jesus Christ. 

“Because I’m sad and horny and miss my boys!”

Roach and Kӧnig were gone on a mission for two weeks. Two weeks without sex had Soap that pent up?

“Soap, I think you have a problem.”

“And why would I indulge you after the performance you put on tonight?” Simon asked, his touch slowly creeping further and further up her leg. Between her and the chair, his opposite hand settled nicely against the snap of her back.

Valid point. The groping and kissing had been a lot.

“I’m sorry! Ah was just tryin’ tae do you both a favor!”

“Nah, she won’t do it.” Gaz crossed his ankle over his knee, wearing a boyish grin and egging her on. Per usual, for Kyle Garrick. “I know for a FACT he tops. No way Ghost is a bottom bitch.”

“Occasionally.” His nose traced the shell of her ear, and his fingers dipped under her pajama shorts. After their meeting in the gala bathroom, if he kept going on the path he was on–

“He whimpers, too.”

“Liar!”

“You two are insuffer–”

Simon Riley was an expert in many areas, including but not limited to shutting his wife up; firm, dominant kisses usually did the trick. And if they wanted a show…

His free hand left her back to gently cup her cheek, in stark contrast to the tongue prying her surprised lips open and lapping into her mouth. Freyja’s eyes fluttered closed, and she let herself melt into his touch, following his lead. She kissed him back with equal fervor, nibbling at his plush lower lip and lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape. It never ceased to amaze her how easily the man under her could turn her into a puddle, soft and pliable in the palm of his hand.

At least thirty seconds of swapping spit had passed by the time Simon’s hand pushed her bottoms up a bit. What they were doing could barely be called a kiss, treading more on the side of a sloppy makeout session. He pawed at her ass, fingers digging into the stretch-mark-ridden flesh before dragging Freyja into his lap, guiding her to straddle him. Just as she sank her weight onto his hard crotch for some release–

“Oooh, steamy.”

Simon pried himself off her, restraining the urge to moan as Freyja moved down his neck and choked, “Sergeants, see yourself out.”

“Cannae drive, mate! We’re hammered, and it’s just gettin’ good-”

“Then go upstairs,” he all but growled, using his hands to roll her hips against his. The quiet moan against his shoulder wasn’t lost on him. “Cause I’m gonna fuck my wife. Plug your ears while you’re at it.”

Kyle, the intelligent man he was, popped off the couch with a salute and marched upstairs. He had seen what he needed to see and wasn’t keen on watching live-action porn.

“Why cannae you go upstairs?”

Freyja sat back to give herself enough room to grab the hem of her husband’s shirt and yank it up his torso. Her chest was heaving with gentle pants, Simon looking up at her with that cocky smirk of his in response to her desperation. What did he expect, for her not to be horned up after getting tossed around in that bathroom?

“M’goin’!”

“Wise choice.”

The couple kept themselves quiet, allowing adequate time for their guests to get to a safe distance. Another well-placed grind of her damp shorts against his hard cock pulled a sharp sound from the lieutenant, and he hurriedly finished ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. Freyja couldn’t help the proud smile that pulled at her lips, her chest warming up at the power she held over him.

Several years ago

The lieutenant’s arrival in England was unceremonious. Laswell brought her through to John Price’s office and introduced the two. Strong energy radiated off of him, the presence of a skilled leader. He wouldn’t be difficult to work with; hopefully, she could use her time there to learn a thing or two from the captain that she could use on her track up the ranks. The trio went on a tour around the base, where she met Gary Sanderson – callsign “Roach” – who she became fast friends with due to her affinity for British Sign Language.

Then there was Ghost.

John didn’t offer anything other than the man’s callsign. She found it hard to believe someone of his stature could be likened to anything resembling a ghost, but she had seen crazier things during her service. The black ski mask with a skull print was a choice, but not dissimilar to the black gater she sported at the time.

In the days following her arrival, the lieutenant did her best to bond with her new team members, even though the arrangement was temporary. Roach wasn’t a problem, and even their superior made an effort to get to know her and her ambitions, even her personal life. 

“No call sign?” Price asked, having already read over the file Kate had sent over.

She shrugged noncommittally. “I haven’t found one that fits me yet. I just go by whatever designation I have for the mission.”

“Bravo-one it is.”

Ghost, on the other hand–

The sergeant proved her first impression wrong. How did the giant of a man manage to disappear whenever she entered a room? However, Ghost didn’t always vanish, and she couldn’t figure out a pattern. It was as though he was intentionally steering clear of her presence, but only in certain situations.

She would be correct.

One of the first things the team did was head to the gym to familiarize themselves with the others’ techniques and skills in combat. With Price, Roach, and Ghost already knowing each others’ affinities, that left the lieutenant to showcase hers. Price wanted to give her a challenge, to see how she would handle someone who clearly overpowered her. Ghost was the obvious choice, at six-foot-four and change and two-hundred-plus pounds.

She won the first round, although barely. She was good, and Ghost hadn’t dared underestimate her before stepping into the ring. She’d somehow wrenched herself out of his grip and onto his shoulders, with her thighs locked around his neck effectively enough for him to tap at her hip. Ghost won the second, taking more time than he would have liked to pin the lieutenant on her back, securing her hands above her head and holding her down with his body weight.

He could take the damned heavy breathing and mischievous eyes staring up at him through her lashes. But when “Good job, Sergeant” slipped past her lips and planted itself firmly in his brain, he leaped off the woman as if she was on fire. His cargos did a good enough job concealing the raging hard-on he sported during the rest of the evaluation, but they didn’t ease Ghost’s suffering as he had to stand there and avoid her occasional glances.

While the newcomer was learning the ropes of the base and making friends, Ghost was preoccupied. He was putting in a considerable effort to not think about her; the mask covering the lower half of her face, her pretty eyes above that black mask, her chest in the tight shirt she arrived in–

Pull yourself together.

He was doing well for a while. Ghost made it six whole hours without popping another boner. Then there was the interrogation.

That night, Roach and Price picked up a cartel member from the cell they were trying to locate. The captain paired Bravo-one, her temporary call sign, and Ghost on the interrogation. Hard to avoid me now, huh? she thought to herself as they approached the room, Ghost pausing just before the door. She wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to make him so avoidant, but she couldn’t be bothered much then. They had a job to do.

With a hand on the knob, the man with the skull plate looked over his shoulder at her. “If you’d like to do the talking–”

“No, thank you.”

Ghost raised a brow under his mask, watching her roll up her sleeves.

“No?”

“I can be persuasive.”

She ignored the expression she couldn’t quite place and waved her hand, directing him to open the door. “After you, Sergeant.”

The pair split off, Ghost immediately going to their captive’s chair, the other hovering by the duffel bag in the corner, packed with various tools and weapons. The one she picked up and inspected for any dents or abnormalities made Ghost’s brain twitch. Well, maybe not his brain–

“And who’s the looker?” the stranger asked, licking his lips. “You’d be prettier if you took the mask off, baby.”

“That’s my lieutenant,” Ghost replied, leaning on one of the metal chair’s arms. “She’s here to make sure you tell me what I want to know.”

“And what exactly would you like to know, Sergeant?”

“Easy question.” He leaned down into the dealer’s bubble, close to his ear. “I just want your boss’s location.”

The man whistled lowly, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. “Now, that, I can’t do,” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunately for you, this routine won’t work for me. The bad cop smacks me around; the good cop comes in with an offer to save the day – been there, done that. Maybe if you sweeten the deal with that lovely piece of–”

“You’re mistaken,” Bravo-one interrupted his monologue, stepping away from the corner and further into their witness’s line of sight. “He’s not the bad cop.” She bent to his level and brought the torch between them before flicking the flame on. Their prisoner’s stoic face quickly soured, and he thrashed against his restraints, making every attempt to escape the blue flame. “I am.”

Ghost found many things attractive, but he wasn’t aware that watching a woman he had just met torture a grown man and make him beg for life (and eventually, his death) would make him so painfully hard. He tried to blow off steam in the gym a few hours later (after jerking off in the shower, fucking minx), but was yet again met with the sight of his partner. Her hair was still damp from a post-mission shower, leaving a wet spot on the back of her t-shirt. This time, however, she had perched herself outside Price’s quarters. She leaned against the open door frame, chatting quietly, in nothing but a t-shirt and incredibly short shorts. Short enough, that the delicious crease where her ass met her thigh was prominently displayed.

Abort, abort, abort–

It was like the man had blacked out until he was safely in the confines of his quarters, back pressed against the now-locked door. He was a panting, flushed wreck under his mask, which he swiftly pulled off and tossed onto his dresser. Every endeavor to catch his breath or slow his heartbeat went nowhere. He decided cracking his skull against the solid wood door might jumpstart his system again and divert his thoughts away from the lieutenant.

Needless to say, that did nothing to appease the throbbing sensation between his legs.

“Bloody hell…”

Nothing a quick wank couldn’t fix. Again.

Price invited her to a local military bar with the rest of the crew, the usual spot for those who stayed on base on a Thursday night. It didn’t take her long to change and hitch a ride with their captain, donning a simple open-knit sweater with a bralette underneath and dark blue jeans. Once they arrived, she immediately noticed Ghost sitting at the end of the u-shaped countertop, tucked against the wall with his hood over his head. She took her time floating around the bar, shaking hands and conversing happily with various privates and soldiers that weren’t on their assignment. The damp air in the space, combined with her breath, made her mask cling to her face; this was a common occurrence, one the soldier had learned to put up with.

Ghost made no effort to approach her, but she wasn’t blind; his eyes followed her constantly. Whether he was being intentionally conspicuous or not, she didn’t know. After their little sparring match (that left a puddle in her underwear), she thought she had felt something shift. Even though she’d only known the man a few hours then, something about the sergeant piqued her interest. His commanding aura, powerful stance, laid-back yet driven attitude–

Or, his monstrous size and muscles. Those were always a plus.

When Ghost had fled from the training facilities, leaving her on the floor, she raised her arms and let them smack against the mat underneath her.

“He’s a tricky lad to get to know. You’ll get there,” Price had said, insisting that his adverse reaction was nothing personal.

Regardless, he wasn’t making a move, and the constant avoidance wasn’t floating her boat.

So, she allowed Roach to pull her to the cozy dance floor on the other side of the bar. Her eyes wrinkled with the wide smile under her mask as she danced with the silent soldier, chest to chest, periodically spinning under his arm. They laughed and danced like carefree fools; she had been nervous about crossing the pond to a new country, partnering up with strangers for such a vital mission. It wasn’t the same as a deployment or going to various countries with her usual team. The cartel could keep her in England for weeks if not months. Most of the people so far had made her feel welcome.

Most.

Still, she allowed her eyes to fall on the one soul who had made it seem like she didn’t belong – on that mission, on base, in the military in the first place–

And found the portion of his face not covered by his balaclava examining her. Ghost was damn good at concealing his emotions; in the few days she’d been graced with knowing him, she couldn’t figure out his thoughts three-quarters of the time. But at that moment, it almost seemed like fury mixed with a…certain softness?

His gaze shifted to her dance partner and darkened, no longer holding what she thought she had seen just a second before. Ghost held their eye contact while he downed his drink and slammed the heavy glass on the counter. Finally, he stormed to the exit with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She watched him shoulder the emergency door, which apparently had no alarms attached to it, and disappear outside. It was like a silent command to follow. Or maybe a warning, a huge, neon red sign blinking ‘BEWARE! DANGER!’ at her.

However, she had never been known for playing things safe.

“Roach,” she said over the music, slowing her movements. “I need some air. Don’t wait up.”

He simply smiled and bobbed his head before signing, “Sure! I’ll see you back on base tomorrow?”

“Try not to take it too rough tonight,” she signed back with a wink, patting him on the shoulder.

“I make no promises!”

Roach wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone to go home with, that much she was sure about. Even as she weaved through the crowd, she scoped a soldier still in their fatigues heading in her companion’s direction. Lucky bastard, she thought, trying not to let her envy for Gary’s ability to draw men in get the better of her. I’d give anything to scratch that itch right about now. But she was determined. Determined to confront Ghost about his attitude toward her, his superior, and end it. She quickly stepped to the door, hoping to catch the sergeant before he went back to base–

And collided with said sergeant's chest as she went to push the door out.

“Lieutenant.”

The lieutenant recovered smoothly, stepping back to put some space between them. “Sergeant,” she said, nodding to him. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

He stared for a beat before silently stepping back and holding the door open as she stepped out. The cool, refreshing air flowed through the wide knit of her sweater, offering solace from the hot, stiff air, inside the building. The back exit led to a quiet parking lot; all they could hear was the soft buzz of the street light above, Thursday night traffic in the distance, and the muted music from the speakers inside. 

They stood side by side in silence for a while, him with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket again, her arms crossed over her chest. The bar was further away from the city, making the clear, starry sky more visible without the smog and city lights. It would be peaceful if not for her whirring thoughts and the intoxicating musk and whisky wafting from the man next to her. Maybe she’d find someone to go back to the barracks with later.

She wasn’t expecting Ghost to be a regular Chatty Cathy, but the silence was unbearable. “Did I do something to upset you, Sergeant?” she asked, not looking up at him.

“No, ma’am.”

God, she wanted to throttle him. “Then why are you avoiding me?” She took the silence that followed as confirmation of her suspicions, which only fueled her fire more. “We’re supposed to be a team; you and I are partners. The whole won’t function with you icing me out.”

Another pause as Ghost contemplated his response. Her sneaker scuffed against the pavement as she shifted her stance, choosing to spread her weight equally instead of leaning to one side. It made her feel taller, and she needed all the help she could get next to the absolute unit beside her.

“You’re distracting.”

“Distra-” She looked up at him then, baffled, and saw him still facing forward. But she did notice his jaw tightened underneath the mask. Distracting? That’s not–

Oh.

“Rather cozy with the little insect.”

She couldn’t help it, honest. At first, she snorted, but her recovery wasn’t as swift as the chuckle rolled into barrelling laughter. “R-Rather…insecure for such a…big man!” she wheezed, hunching over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. 

Ghost asked, “Something funny?” which only made matters worse and threw her into another fit of giggles and snorts. Very ladylike. After close to a minute, she managed to compose herself enough to suck in a deep breath of oxygen.

“You’re jealous?” she questioned, straightening her back again. “Oh, that’s…that’s hilarious.”

“I’m not.”

Liar.

“You’ve been pining after me this whole time, and you–” The giggling started again, but under enough control that she could still speak. “Ghost, Roach is fucking gay.”

Ghost’s eyes snapped over to her at that, although he couldn’t find the words for a smart response. Several things he had noticed about Roach suddenly made sense. He’d been working with Roach for months by that point. How hadn’t he put two and two together? 

“You’d have a better chance of getting him to fuck you than me.”

Before he could stop it, his mouth spoke quicker than his mind could keep up with. “Oh, I’m not a bottom, love.”

Now, that certainly wasn’t a response she prepared for. Was it a good idea to proposition someone of a lower rank as a contractor?

Probably not.

If she was wrong and he wasn’t interested, he could report her and get her demoted if not discharged entirely. But if she’s right, and someone else catches them, that would at least count towards a demerit, a permanent stain on both of their records.

But again, you know what they say about her and risks…

“You sure about that?” she hummed, keeping her gaze forward and arms crossed.

Ghost raised an eyebrow and gave her a once over with his side-eye, eyes following her every curve, from her feet up to her exposed shoulder where her sweater had slipped and the open holes to her bare skin underneath. He forced his sight forward like a good soldier, clenching his fists tightly in his pocket to help restrain himself. “I don’t make a habit of fuckin’ my superiors, ma’am,” he offered, head tipped back towards the open sky.

“Who said you’d be doing the fucking, soldier?”

His skin reacted immediately, burning hot under the black fabric. He chanced another look at her without turning his head and saw her looking back through pretty lashes. If there were a definition for “fuck me eyes” in the dictionary with a picture next to it, the eyes he was currently staring into would be there. He had done so well, circumventing any temptation from a superior officer. The military was all he had; if he was discharged, he would have nowhere else to go. The ghost didn’t even have an apartment off-base, always staying in the barracks, save for times when Price dragged him to his house and forced him to stay there. 

He had been so diligent and successfully dodged her at every opportunity, dodged her kind advances of friendship, even sat across the room during the few briefings they’d had together to keep physical distance between him and his problem. But with every passing second of peering down into those eyes, the rest of her face concealed by a mask not unlike his own – he felt his impulses surging forward and self-control slipping away.

The man sighed deeply and dropped his head with his eyes closed. “Bollocks.” Ghost placed a hand on her lower back while the other pulled his belt open, the leather slipping through the metal clasp, buckle clinking as he guided her towards Price’s vehicle.

Ever the gentleman, Ghost popped the door open and stepped to the side, allowing her space to climb in first. She couldn’t be bothered with concealing the giddy, satisfied look as she perched herself on the seat and tugged him between her legs by his waistband.

“Don’t give me that look.”

Mischief twinkled in the irises staring back at him, and suddenly the black mask he’d grown accustomed to disappear, showcasing a smile to match. “What look, Sergeant?” she questioned, her voice pitched lower than usual and her touch slipping into his pants and squeezing. Hard. A gloved hand smacked into the frame of the vehicle, supporting his body through the sudden tremor that jerked his hips forward.

Fuck.

She did manage to learn a few things about Ghost in that SUV. Those facts are as follows:

He was much more religious about keeping his mask on than she was with hers

Whimperer

He somehow was able to be soft while also fucking her stupid?

That tongue of his was good for more than quick whit

When Ghost came inside her, his thighs shaking and convulsing as her warm walls milked him dry, she gave them both a minute to gather their senses before rolling her hips again, earning a pathetic whine.

“Come on, Sergeant,” she panted, pulling his head up from her shoulder by short curls at the nape of his neck. “You can do better than that. Make me come again? Please?”

She had known him for two days and already had him on his knees for her. That theme would be consistent in their relationship going forward.

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117

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[thebestbooksaround]

This is a Buddie fic rec list where "one of them isn't a firefighter" That makes me warm and happy every time I read them <3

Part 1 || Part 2

Spousal Secrets and Celebrity Crushes by AshwinMeird (@ashwinmeird) | 9k | General

Eddie joined the 118 and Hen learned plenty about his husband and son through endless stories, but she knew almost nothing about Buck. Then a movie being filmed not far from the station starts to become very relevant to her life. Or Five times Hen was confused about Eddie's husband and One time it all made sense

i'll walk through fire for you by prettyboybuckley (@greyacebuckley) | 3k | General

Eddie just shrugs, and they leave him alone, chattering about something he tunes out as he stares out the window. At least, until Bobby starts briefing them on what they're walking into.

He hears the address, and his stomach turns. That's where Buck lives. 

"There was an explosion somewhere in the building," Bobby tells them over the comms. "Third floor is fully engulfed, the building is unstable, and there are people trapped up there, still. There's one other firehouse on the scene already."

OR: In a universe where Buck is not a firefighter but they're still best friends, Eddie gets called to a fire at Buck's apartment building

call you home by ashavahishta (@ashavahishta) | 6k | General

"He’s like, so pretty sometimes I can’t believe he’s real?” He’d rambled once, so tired at the end of shift he was basically drunk with it.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Hen had said patiently, and patted him on the shoulder. “I like girls, remember?”

“He’s built like a Greek god with the face of an angel,” Eddie had argued, a stubborn set to his mouth like he was determined for Hen to believe just how gorgeous his husband was. “Even you couldn’t resist that.”

Or: "Eddie Diaz drinks his 'I fucking love my husband' juice for 6,000 words." OR "5 Times Eddie Told The Firefam About Buck and 1 Time They Actually Met Him".

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless | 15k | Explicit

Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.

the handyman can ('cause he fixes it with love) by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) | 4k | Teen

Eddie’s first thought when he opens the door is that Hen’s finally getting payback for Eddie hustling her in pool last Friday. The guy standing on the stoop is sweaty, smiling, with biceps that look like they could jaws-of-life a car all on their own and a very pink, very biteable kiss of a birthmark above his crinkled blue eyes. His toolbelt looks like every toolbelt from every bad porn movie ever, slung absurdly low on his hips, and the acid-wash jean shorts he’s wearing absolutely cannot be OSHA-approved.

Eddie decidedly does not look at the thick muscle of the guy’s thighs when he says, “uh, I think you have the wrong house.”

we can’t fight gravity (love is like falling) by alasse (@alasse9) | 21k | Teen

Eddie is an actor (a former child star of a major franchise who only does weird indie movies nowadays), and Buck is still a firefighter. The universe screams at them a few times—through a tsunami, an unfortunate misunderstanding, and an emergency at a movie set—until they finally get it together.

Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania) | 21k | Mature

Eddie's PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch.

Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.

(is in the back of my mind and on the tip of my tongue) by waferkya (@oursisthewinter) | 17k | Teen

Soft, dark hair, just long enough to begin curling at the tips; expressive eyebrows and an impossibly straight nose that should belong on some Greek statue, full pink lips stretched in a wide smile just this side of goofy, and a wonderful amount of stubble dusting his jaw; broad shoulders hugged to perfection by the dark blue police uniform, his entire body a stretch of tight muscle. Yeah, yup, yes. Chim is not wrong. The man is handsome as sin. Also, he’s a cop, which—hi, hello, that’s hot.

[AU in which Eddie is a cop who just moved to LA; Buck has zero self-esteem, a praise kink the size of the desert and no clue on how to pick a decent Dom; and eventually love conquers all.]

Write me into your happy ending... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie | 16k | Teen

Four years ago when Eddie and Christopher started reading the book series about Daniel's Adventures together before bedtime, Eddie never would have guessed that he would run into the author of said book series in the middle of a Barnes & Noble in LA. He also wouldn't have guessed that said encounter would begin with him sternly lecturing the stranger and making a slight fool of himself. Nor would he have predicted that this terrible first impression would somehow make the published author want to give his phone number to Eddie.

Or, Eddie the firefighter and Buck the writer have a meet-cute, and things progress from there.

i wanna be known (by you) by chasingoblivion (@starlightbuck) | 12k | General

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief. “How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?” Or  In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

String of hearts... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie | 11k | Teen

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos | 31k | Mature

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck.

With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys.

AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

serendipity (can't get him off my mind) by elless | 7k | Teen

Buck has his job at the daycare, his sister, and good friends. And not much else. His life hasn't turned out how he expected. Then he gets a wrong number text that changes everything. He and Eddie click instantly, but Eddie lives in Texas while Buck is in LA. It can never work, especially if Buck is too afraid to make a move.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno | 23k | Teen

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day.

Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (@florenceandthemachine) | 8k | Explicit

unknown sender: Hi! unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run. unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way. sent: hey um sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black (@redtooblack) | 13k | Mature

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer.

(Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

i'm gonna make this place your home by chromatophorica (@chromatophorica) | 11k | Teen

"Hey, did you know that other people can go to the kids' islands on that game?" He asks Hen the following day at work, stocking up the ambulance with her while Chim teaches the probie how to roll hoses.

"Yeah, I mean, they go to each other's all the time." Which, yeah, in a way, Eddie knew that part

"No, I mean other people, like people on the internet or whatever." Hen shoots him a look, one that states he's showing his usual technophobic ways again. “I'm just saying, some person that Chris called 'Buck' was on his island just like... giving him things.” It feels a lot like those stories about grooming or whatever, when the internet was new and people pretended to be something they weren't. What if this Buck person was an old guy in a creepy basement trying to befriend kids on a game? --- During the pandemic, Christopher gets more involved in online gaming. Eddie promptly freaks out when he realises his son has made a friend through the games. It takes Chimney's girlfriend and a car crash to understand how important that friend will be.

[dellalyra]

you putting ��megumi needs his mom rn” in the cw makes me wonder how he and the family reacted to yuuji dying after the detention center mission (and also what was the reaction to him coming back since i’m assuming gojo told reader before they revealed it to everyone else)

Family Formations - Part Eleven

Summary: Deja vu visits you when your son loses his best friend.

Warning: swearing, angst, acc kinda soft too, mourning, mentions of blood and vomiting, canon typical violence, MDNI

A/N: I had already started this fic when this request came through so loving the telepathy going on here. Also. This is sad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it worth it dw dw.

Recommended Listening:

Daylight - David Kushner

No Surprises - Radiohead

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Sparks - Coldplay

Your doorbell chimed, glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace from you’d spot on the sofa, 8 pm? Satoru wasn’t due home until 9 pm plus - he just warped inside your home. Did he order your flowers again? You check the baby monitor and see your 4-month-old is still sound asleep in his crib.

Walking up to the door, you sensed a very familiar cursed energy. Megumi? What’s he doing here, it’s Wednesday.

You could hear the rain and thunder pouring and hitting your windows in waves.

You open the door, and you see nothing.

A whimper emanates from beside you, and on the ground – slumped against the doorway is your eldest boy.

You fall on your knees beside him.

“Megumi! Baby, what’s going on? You’re going to catch a cold.” You brush his hair out of his face, and you are stricken with the realisation that he is crying. His angular face is so devoid of any emotion, but the tears scream otherwise. You could count the number of times you’ve seen him cry in 10 years on one hand and you hadn’t been prepared for this tonight.

“Jesus, baby what’s going on?” You try to heave him up from the ground and he’s as limp as a rag doll as you try to guide him inside the door. The hallway is as far as you can manage his weight before you give in and shut the door to the outside world. He’s now just leaned against your sage green wall, if he wasn’t breathing, you’d think he was comatose.

Only now do you realise he’s bleeding. His lip is busted, and his eyebrow is too. But what type of curse would elicit this reaction?

“Megumi? Honey? Talk to me - what’s happened?” You kneel beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the top of his head.

Empty eyes, now a dull blue, look up at you through lashes soaked with rain and tears.

“He’s dead.” The tiniest voice, again, void of emotions.

Satoru? No – you had been on the phone with him 20 minutes ago.

“He killed him.” His eyes are facing you – but they’re looking straight through you.

“Who’s dead, Megumi?” You probe – anxiety gripping your stomach like a vice.

“Sukuna – ripped his heart out. In front of me. Just ripped it out. His heart. He’s dead.” The words are barely intelligible in the mumbles that come from his out and you’re still as confused, Sukuna? How could- oh my god Yuuji is dead.

Yuuji Itadori.

Dead.

“Oh my god – fuck. Megumi, my sweet boy.” At this point, he turned to you.

He looked into your eyes.

He turned his head and vomited on the floor beside him.

You pull him into you, tears flooding your face as you think about that sweet, sweet boy – a soul too good for this world so brutally ripped out of it.

You wipe his mouth on your sweater sleeve and once again haul him up into your grasp he almost falls but you pull on every muscle fibre you had – you needed to get him dry and cleaned up.

A memory played in your mind, a sense of déjà vu – Satoru vomiting and sobbing and you shaking with tears curled up together – the loss of another best friend. The fates were cruel masters to make you relive this scene again.

Once he was up the stairs you lay him on his bed. Where he just sat on the edge, legs still on the ground and stared at his shoes. He went to vomit again, and this time you caught it with a bucket you’d retrieved from the closet.

“I need to get a cloth. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t acknowledge this. You just needed a moment to gather yourself before you went back in - you’d be no good to him if you continue to try to help in the state you're in, a mess of shock and grief and anger. White hot anger.

You shut the en suite door of his room behind you, and you rush to the toilet and heave up all of your remaining food at the mental image of that darling boy laying cold and dead and gutted on the ground.

You give yourself a moment – your son and you breathe so that you can deal with everything later – wait, does Satoru know?

Grabbing a cloth – you go into the room, laying the cloth down for a moment, you go into your and Satoru’s room and grab one of his sweatshirts. In Megumi’s room, you pull sweatpants from his wardrobe and look at your son. He’s dripping rainwater onto the carpet and there’s blood from his injuries mingling, tinging it pink.

You think some of the puddles might be tears, his or your own, you don’t know.

You stand in front of him, remembering the times when you’d do this to help him into his frog pyjamas - he was only 6 back then – 16 now and 5ft 9 – almost a whole foot taller than you. You lift his arms and unzip his jacket – his T-shirt underneath is soaked through too. You peel them both from him and check for cuts on his torso – bruises, old and fresh – but no blood.

You pull Satoru’s sweatshirt over his head, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re moving him. He’s just limp in your arms, and you swear to anyone who’s listening to if you could take that pain and shoulder, it yourself then you would.

You peel his slacks down, pulling his sweatpants (a Christmas present from your brother) onto his lanky legs you tuck his hair behind his ears and dry it with a cloth. You then dab at his bleeding wounds, they’re clotting now, and the bleeding is stopping.

You throw the cloth away to the far side of the room.

He’s seen enough blood for today.

Tears are flowing freely from you both as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

Your proximity must trigger him back to this plane of existence and he looks at you.

“I couldn’t save him.”

“I know sweet boy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

“It was a special grade – he, the curse had a finger. Our mission didn’t say any of that.”

“A special grade? Was Satoru there?” He couldn’t have been, he was in Osaka today.

“No. Just me and Kugisaki and Itadori.” His voice quavers.

You knew exactly what happened. It was clear from even the bare minimum you had heard.

But – now was not the time. Willing yourself to push the thoughts aside. Megumi doesn’t need that right now.

“You did everything you could, ‘Gumi. There was nothing you could have done.”

This was his kryptonite. A heavy, choked sob broke through the air and his body collapsed onto you.

“His heart – he ripped it out. He was right there and he just – momma, he’s dead. I couldn’t save him, Momma.” You broke down, sobbing yourself, cradling this boy – this poor broken boy, into your chest as you hugged him so tight you could feel every shake of his body in your own. You carefully moved. you both so you could sit against his headboard with his sobbing head laid on your stomach.

You are so grateful that Akio is a heavy-sleeping baby because you need to focus on your oldest son now. He needed you, and you were his to protect him, 100%.

You stroke his hair and whisper placating nothing into his ear. Nothing will fix this. Nothing will make it easier or make it feel better. You just need to be here; you just need to hold him now. You can tell him until the cows come home that he did all he could, he couldn’t have stopped Sukuna, that it was not his fault – but all these worlds will refuse to sink in until he’s ready to hear them. Yet, you tell him anyway. Over and over again.

You’ve no idea how much time passes. Your tears mingle with the lingering water on the side of his head as you cry with him but eventually, the sobs turn into heavy breaths, and you realise he’s passed out. Sheer exhaustion has taken his body hostage and for a second, you’re put at peace knowing at least right now – his mind will be quiet.

You slip your phone from your pocket, without moving or disturbing the boy on your lap.

‘Please call me.’ A message from Satoru.

You ring him.

The phone barely dials once before you hear his voice – hoarse.

“Y/N. I –”

“I know ‘Toru. Megumi came home.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.” He sounds so broken.

“You have no reason to be sorry baby, we both know how this managed to come to pass.” You hated that he always still felt the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“I’ll kill them all.” He says, and you know he’s serious.

“You could, but you won’t. Maybe 10 years ago – maybe then we’d have done it together. But not now, not anymore.” You reply, voice still thick with tears.

There’s silence.

“Where are you, ‘Toru?”

“The morgue.”

“Shoko?”

“On her way in.”

“I can’t leave the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

He hangs up the phone. Nothing more needs to be said. These feelings are sadly all too familiar to you both. You realise Shoko will have to do the autopsy.

She delivered Akio 4 months ago. Now she’d be cutting up the corpse of the boy who waited outside of the labour ward for 16 hours.

You lean your head back – closing your eyes. Flashes of a pink head tossing back in laughter and strong arms hugging you in thanks, of meatballs served to you as you nurse your newborn and the Spider-Man lamp being plugged in making you smile at the giddy teenager. The faces change, now they’re old and wrinkled and whisper words with serpentine tongues laced with deceit and heartlessness in their actions. They knew what they were doing. Satoru wasn’t in Osaka for no reason. They knew.

They all fucking knew.

They sent him to his death, knowingly and intentionally. They sent three children into a trap all because they are scared. Cowards who hide behind words of ‘the good of society’ and the guise of ‘the greater good’. Satoru and you had screamed and pushed and threatened to stay the execution, but they found a loophole anyway.

They risked Megumi and Nobara – did they think you wouldn’t piece together the big picture? Did they think that you wouldn’t realise?

You don’t know how long you sat there but your phone buzzed again.

📲Satoruuuuu is Calling… ✅⛔️

You pick up.

“He’s alive.”

“What?”

“He’s alive. Yuuji’s alive. Sukuna woke him up…” There are so many tones in his voice and so many thoughts in your head you have to close your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Well - he’s talking and walking so unless The Last of Us was accurate then…” he attempts a joke – relief clear in his voice.

You softly lift the head from your lap, and place it on the navy pillow. He doesn’t stir.

You walk out into your room, sitting on the balcony – the air was what you needed.

“I don’t know what to say.” That is all you can manage.

The torrent of emotions your mind went through was making you so dizzy you sat on the wooden chair looking at the sky.

“He’s not safe here, they’re going to come for him.” Satoru’s voice comes, quiet through the phone.

“What will we do?” You say.

“He needs time, he needs to train and learn to manipulate and use his cursed energy. If he can protect himself…” Satoru begins.

“We need to hide him. He can’t stay at school or come here.” Your sorcerer’s brain was switched on now.

“I can’t bring him to the Gojo estate either, the elders the family visit too much.” He speaks.

Lightbulb.

“They visit your family… but they’d never think to visit mine. Satoru, bring him to my mom’s. I’ll call her, you can train him there every day, and if we’re being watched it’s not suspicious to visit our own family. She’ll take care of him.” You say, you knew that your family would protect this boy with their lives, he was family to Megumi, family to you.

“Y/N… we can’t tell anyone. The only people who know are me, you, Shoko and Ijichi.” He says, and your heart stops.

You’ll have to lie to Megumi.

“Fuck. It’s too dangerous for him to know – if they catch wind of this, and they find out he knows…” you say.

“He’ll be branded a traitor. Who knows what they’d do for information.”

“He’s going to hate us.”

“He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.”

“Come home to me, to us – ‘toru. Bring him to my parents and then please come home.” You whisper to him.

He agrees and tells you he loves you.

The weeks fly by as you feel yourself crumbling from the weight of the sadness spilling from your son, Kugisaki isn’t much better and Satoru is still reeling from the elder’s deceit. You stormed to the council meeting the following day and threatened to burn the place to the ground if they so much as considered harming a hair on the head of the other kids.

“Unfortunate circumstances occur on missions. Nobody knows the outcome of these situations.” They fought.

“Oh – you knew the outcome of this one. You knew full well. All of you, every single one of you knew and you allowed it. In legal terms, that’s murder. You’re all sociopaths and whatever awaits you in the next world, I hope it hurts even a fraction of the pain you’ve all caused. Endanger my family again, and I’ll deal with you all personally – never mind Satoru.”

The training was going well – you had gone to your mother’s house two days after his resurrection, after the water cooled and you were sure you weren’t being surveilled.

You had run to Yuuji, running your eyes and hands over every bit of him, checking for wounds and crying into his shoulder. He had died, and somehow you were being comforted by him.

Satoru and you explained the situation, taking turns to train with him. They came up with a ridiculous idea of Yuuji playing Jack in the Box at the exchange event all you could do was allow it.

Back home – you explained to Megumi that the mission had been a nefarious plot concocted by the elders and higher ups to get rid of Yuuji, since you and your husband kept getting in the way – they took the opportunity of your maternity leave to send Gojo to Osaka and place the kids in the path of a Special Grade Curse. You hoped being armed with this information would help him understand why you and Satoru had lied to him, and allowed him to grieve. It hurt you, but his safety was paramount.

When the day came and Yuuji was released, you stood beside Megumi as he and Nobara watched him return from the dead. Jaws hanging open, they couldn’t tear their eyes from their friend.

Reunions and rejoicing complete, you and Satoru pulled Megumi by the sleeve away from the scene, into your classroom.

When the door shut, you began to sob.

“‘Gumi, I’m so sorry. We didn’t have any choice but to keep it a secret. It –” Satoru wraps you into his chest.

“We had to keep it secret, because they would have killed anyone involved if they found out, kiddo. We had to keep you safe.” He says hand on Megumi’s shoulder and a crying wife clinging to him.

“It’s okay.” Megumi shrugs.

You freeze, you thought he’d never forgive you.

“What?” You and Satoru say in unison.

“I get why you did it. Thank you, guys, – for helping him, and uh – for protecting us all.” He says and God this boy will never fail to amaze you. His maturity was something you and Satoru could only have dreamed of at his age and even rarer was hearing such genuine praise from him – he was softer with you, but this was directed to you both.

Wordlessly, you and Satoru wrapped him in your arms and he begrudgingly and awkwardly reciprocated the affection.

Over his head, you looked at your husband. His crystalline eyes filled with relief and love for you and your patchwork family, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips – a silent thank you for everything you do. The road was never easy, but God was it worth it.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: mentions of violence, swearing, and parental neglect

A/N: capture the flag scenes>>>

When you heard your name being called, you didn’t even have to look up to know who was speaking. You’d recognize your best friend’s voice anywhere.

“What’s up, Luke?”

The son of Hermes gave you a toothy grin and linked arms with you, leading you away from the group of miscellaneous campers. You had been participating in a rope-tying class held by the Hephaestus head counselor, but it was really only to pass the time. There were more important matters at hand. 

“Can we go over everything one more time? I want to make sure we’re on the same page.” 

It was Friday afternoon, meaning that Capture the Flag was mere hours away. This time, Hermes was paired with the Hephaestus, Apollo, and Athena cabins. The campers in the cabins of Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Ares would be their opponents. It wasn’t the most difficult match-up they’d faced, but it wasn’t a guaranteed victory.

Luke took winning very seriously. You knew that better than anyone, because he would talk to you for hours upon hours about his plans. He always went to you for consultation, as he knew you’d never betray him by giving information to the opposing team. You were loyal to him, just as he was to you.

He also knew you were an excellent strategist as well as a formidable fighter. After seeing your ideas work flawlessly on the battlefield, he asked if you would be his co-captain. 

And of course, you accepted. Not only would it make the Hermes cabin a stronger force, it meant you had an excuse to spend more time with him. Not that you really needed one, but it couldn’t hurt.

You and Luke took a seat on a fallen tree trunk at the cusp of the woods. He quickly ran through the plan you had formulated last night. It was chalk-full of deception and diversion, which was Luke’s specialty. You had ensured that the strongest fighters would be placed in exactly the right spots, waiting to take hostages to the blue team’s “jail”. The more players the red team lost, the better. You’d also given two of the most observant and experienced fighters the job of guarding your flag. Guards must always be on alert, and you couldn’t risk them getting distracted and allowing the other team to steal the victory. 

When Luke finished talking, you cleared your throat. “I don’t believe there are any misunderstandings between us regarding the plan. I have no doubt that we will emerge victorious.” 

He gave you a small smile. “I appreciate your confidence.” 

“I have a good reason to believe we’ll win,” you said, leaning your head against his arm. “When we work together, we rarely lose.” 

You sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the peaceful moment. You loved having time alone with Luke. It was becoming rarer and rarer, especially now that he was a camp counselor. But he did everything in his power to make time for you. 

After all, you were his best friend, his most loyal ally.

Nothing, not even the gods, could tear you away from him.

________________________________________________

“Fuck-I swear to the fucking gods, if someone stole it…gods dammit…LUKE!” 

You screamed for your best friend, who came rushing over, almost tripping over himself. 

“What? What happened?” he said breathlessly, scanning you for any sign of injury. 

“Someone took my chest plate,” you seethed. “Everyone knows what mine looks like, they must’ve stolen it to fuck with my head.”

“Hey,” Luke said, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Relax. I’ll figure out who took it and bring it back here, I promise.” 

“It was probably Vander,” you muttered, internally shuddering as you thought about the son of Ares. “He’s just mad because I beat his ass in a race earlier today.” 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I bet you’re right. Stay here and put the rest of your armor on, I’ll go get your chest plate back.” 

Before you could protest, he removed his hands from your shoulders and dashed out the door, leaving you alone in the armory. 

And within minutes, Luke returned, holding your beloved piece of armor and wearing a triumphant grin. You noticed that his knuckles were slightly bruised, but didn’t need to ask why.

Luke had a habit of getting even with anyone who messed with you.

.

.

.

“Campers,” Chiron’s baritone voice echoed throughout the forest clearing. “I know most of you are familiar with the rules, but I must go over them to ensure none are forgotten. I want a fair and clean fight.” 

You barely refrained from rolling your eyes. The Ares cabin never fought fair, of course their opponents would stoop to their level in order to win. 

As Chiron went over the rules, you took the opportunity to size up the red team, who was standing on the other side of Zephyros Creek. 

Dionysus, Demeter, and Aphrodite weren’t the largest concern. Yes, they could fight, but they weren’t nearly as ruthless as the Ares cabin. 

You hated most of the Ares kids. Even though your father had a close relationship with their father, you couldn’t stand their obnoxious bickering and unethical warfare tactics. 

Unlike your father, you believed that death should only come fairly. 

The Ares cabin were always out for blood during Capture the Flag, no matter who they were facing. And when they didn’t win…

Well, whoever was on the opposing team would face their wrath for weeks afterwards. 

“…and finally, all weapons and powers are fair game.” 

“Hang on,” a newly arrived daughter of Ares spoke up, pointing at you. “What about her creepy death powers? And can’t she fly? Isn’t that unfair?” 

Chiron shook his head. “As long as she doesn’t kill or maim anyone, she is allowed to use all powers at her disposal.” 

The girl scowled. “Fine.” 

“If there are no other objections,” Chiron spoke once more. “Let the game begin!” 

The sound of a conch blowing followed his declaration. Luke immediately began giving orders, making sure to use every one of the twenty minutes given to organize the team before the combat began. 

You followed behind him closely, ensuring he didn’t forget any details of the plan. You preferred to to let him talk to the other campers, as he was a friendlier face. When you had tried explaining strategies in the past, people who were supposed to be listening got distracted, either due to fear or your non-assertive tone. 

After all of the campers were briefed, you and Luke turned to each other. 

“I should head to my post,” you began, tightening your forearm guard one last time. “Make sure that everyone is positioned exactly as we discussed.“ 

Luke nodded. “Of course.” He held out his hand, and you clasped it firmly. “The next time you see me, I’ll be holding the red team’s flag.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” you replied, giving him a confident smile. “Good luck, and stay safe.” 

“You too,” Luke said. You expected him to leave after that, but instead, he leaned forward to give you a swift kiss on the cheek. Then, he turned on his heel and raced into the depths of the woods, leaving you feeling as if Zeus had struck you with his master bolt. 

Quickly shaking off the feeling, you gripped the hilt of your weapon, a dual-ended sword made of Celestial Bronze and Stygian Iron. 

You had a game to win.

________________________________________________

The campers around you erupted into cheers as Luke hoisted the red team’s flag above his hair triumphantly. He had a euphoric grin on his face as he shook hands with his teammates and congratulated them on a job well done.

You watched the celebration from several feet away, sitting on the dirt ground and resting your head against a tree. It had been a long game, and you’d almost passed out from over-exerting your powers. 

Perhaps you should have run to where your front lines were compromised instead of flying. 

But it didn’t matter now. Your team won, that was the important thing. 

Luke came jogging over to you, holding a small metal water bottle. He knelt down next to you, and placed the canteen in your hands. 

“Drink this,” he instructed. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

You gave him a tired smile, and unscrewed the bottle. Taking a small sip, you immediately recognized the sweet taste of nectar. “Thanks, that helped a lot.” 

Luke took off his helmet, freeing his disheveled curls. He also looked physically tired, but the adrenaline from winning the game was clearly keeping him in an energetic state. “You did great out there today.”

“Not nearly as great as you,” you said, downing half of the bottle of nectar in one go. If it had been a normal-sized canteen, consuming half of the contents would’ve killed you. Luckily, you were smart enough to refrain from ingesting enough nectar to burst into flames. “You’ve been dubbed the best swordsman of the century for a reason.”

Luke chuckled, giving you a gentle nudge. “Careful now, don’t go inflating my ego.”

“It doesn’t need any inflating anyways,” you joke, giving him a teasing smirk. 

“Fair enough,” he agreed, and extended a hand to help you stand up. “Seriously though, I’m glad you’re on my side. Otherwise I’d be fucking terrified of crossing you.” 

You smile proudly, and grabbed his hand. He pulled you onto your feet, and slung an arm across your shoulder. 

“I’ll always be on your side, Luke. As long as you’re on mine.”

“Of course, angel. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!! Ive absolutely been loving writing this series so far, it’s been a really nice creative outlet for me. i’m pretty busy right now and trying not to get overwhelmed w/ schoolwork, so doing this has been really relaxing and fun.

i’m also sorta going thru some…relationship problems rn, so just know that i may be a little inconsistent with posting

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

My opinion on all the canon dod ships, from worst to best. Not anon bc i really dont care lmao. This is just my opinion and if yall disagree, good for you, go have your opinions 👍

Sunnyflight: she said no guys. End of ship.

Glorybringer: everyone and their grandmother has said their piece on this ship. Mine can be boiled down to: i like the dynamic but the age gap makes it weird, even if it was unnintentional. Next!

Cleril: they aren't a ship because they are not in love with eachother. Peril thinks she has this deep amazing bond with Clay and that she is in love with him, but when that bond is just trauma and basic human (dragon?) decency then all she needs is a therapist and better friends. Certainly not a lover and certainly not Clay, who didn't even display romantic feelings for her. I saw it as him being like "yeah i can be your friend if you stop trying to isolate me from my other friends". He wants to help her, because he is Clay and of course he does, but he prizes his almost siblings more than this random girl he met and immediately started spouting about murder.

Starspeaker: okay so, I dont hate Fatespeaker, I like her shes fun, but cmon guys. This is litterally discount Sunnyflight. In isolation, this would have been a fine ship, but after the Sunnyflight thing? Yeah Tui just wanted Starflight to get the girl. Starspeaker would have been a fine ship if Fatespeaker wasn't there to litterally be just Sunny's replacement as Starflight's love interest. Like they have similar personalities! Tui didn't even try! Its the exact same dynamic like two pages apart from eachother! How are we supposed to NOT think Fatespeaker is the replacement because Starflight has to get the girl at the end?? Cmon.

And my favorite ship of all the dod is... ripnami. Even tho I think its boring as hell. Why is it boring you ask me? Well because they have a few cute scenes in Tsunami's book and then we never see Riptide again, much less Ripnami!! Its a nothing ship. There is zero there. Grabbing Ripnami by the shoulders and yelling: WHY IT EMPTY because there is just no content. Anything you want of this ship you have to make it up. And even in those cute scenes, we have: Riptide showing up to take Tsunami to the Sea Kingdom and then passing her to Shark and promtly fucking off to god knows where. Riptide shows up to teach Tsunami aquatic and then fucks off to god knows where. Riptide shows up to reveal he is Web's son and fucks off to god knows where DO YOU SEE A PATTERN HERE??? Its an okay ship with almost zero content, but in any other scenario it would have been my least favorite of all, but when the competition is... THAT then yeah its the best we have. However its also the easiest to fix. Litterally just give them some time togheter. Thats it. Make a winglet in Riptides pov if you have to, but just give them some more canon content.

.

[lo-shouldve-been-an-email]

Why hello there.

Listen,I don’t have much to say about the newest LO episode so here’s an ares ranking to go along with the other ones.

Spoilers.

Percy Jackson:

6/10

Look,Ares is a really weird figure when it comes to how the media presents him.

Almost always they present him as this sexist frat boy when in mythology he is:

A reported protector of mistreated woman.

The patron god of the amazons and was worshipped to the point that their leader had 2 babies with him.

Scored the GODDESS PF LOVE AND BEAUTY and there is no way you cannot convince me she doesn’t have some pretty high standards(even though apparently you can convince most of the writers on this list)

And as much as I love Percy Jackson,it is not devoid of crimes.

In the first book,he helps Luke/Kronos steal Zeus’ master bolt and Hades’ helm of invisibility as to start a civil war within the gods.id say this is a pretty good portrayal overall.

…until we get to the second book.

This myth will be very important so long story short:a daughter of ares got r*** by a son of Poseidon so Ares,like any reasonable and bloodthirsty god of war,fucking killed him.

After this,he got put on trial for murder as if he wasn’t the literal god of bloody war,and all the ladies vouched for him so he got set free.

Let’s just say,Rick Riordan didn’t know of this myth.

In the second book,there’s a scene where Clarisse La Rue,a DAUGHTER of ares talks to him through a magic mirror.

There,he threatens her and says he should have sent one of his sons on the quest.and keep in mind she is his FAVORITE DAUGHTER.

So yeah.

I don’t really like this portrayal but he gets points for bringing Clarisse and (technically)Frank into this world since I like them both.also the fact that Percy could tell he had beef with him even without having any other memory.

Lore Olympus:

1/10

FUCK THIS GUY

Remember when I said that modern Ares was more often than not a sexist frat boy?we’ll add “predator” and “Reddit nice guy” to that list because RS can’t write.

If in Percy Jackson Aphrodite had terrible standards here said standards are so much worse.

He spends MONTHS trying to seduce a 19-YEAR-OLD and then tries to marry her without her consent.

Also,sir,YOU HAVE THE GODDESS OF LOVE AND BEAUTY FULLY AT YOUR DISPOSAL AND YOURE PICKING A GURL WHO DOESNT EVEN KNOW HIW TO USE A COMPUTER????

Great.this guy is a predator,Reddit nice guy,AND stupid.

I remember saying that the only character who could get a lowers rating than LO Persephone being LO hades and then I remembered this fuck existed.

Fuck him.

Hades:

10/10

Your know when you see something and then immediately want to wash your eyes with soap?this is my soap.

He is my third favorite Olympian in the game,coming third to Hermes and Artemis.

So here’s a few reasons why I like him:

Doom anything with impending doom and the increasing doom damage boon does absurd amounts of damage.

Curse of nausea is one of the best duos in the game.

He respects woman.(oh look they finally Aphrodite standards)

His quest is stupidly easy and he was the first Olympian who’s bond I maxed out.

I know this joke has been made so many times but.he really is a Chthonic simp.

He doesn’t get too pissed if you don’t pick him is trial of gods.hes just here for the bloodshed.

It may be just the fact that almost every other interpretation of ares is bad,but I really like him.

Also Aphrodite wearing his face paint in hades 2-

OSP:

7/10

He’s cool.

I really don’t have much else to add except the helmet stays on during sex.

Gods school:

5/10

Welp Back to the incels-

Him straight up telling Aphrodite that he can do whatever he wants because she won’t leave is just.why.

I don’t get why people go to this myth,turn it around,and act as if they’ve done a service by making Ares miserable when in the myths it was already a good ending.

What is with the obsession with making ares a toxic ex boyfriend when in the myths him and ‘dite were literally love and war.

Another issue I have with gods school is the fact they made Aphrodite a Karen Smith when in the myths shes a Regina George but that’s a problem for the Aphrodite ranking.

Also I just realized the Aphrodite Hephaestus ares myth is the og “I fell in love with a bad boy story”-

Epic:the musical:

8/10

I don’t have a physical picture of him but I already like him.

The only time he he appears is during a bit of an unfinished song but he does bring up some pretty good points,like the Scylla thing.

Also the fact Athena didn’t directly refute any of his points but instead persuaded him with the fact that the moment Ody gets home the suitors are going to be fucked is surprisingly great.

Also can I just say how absolutely hyped I am for god games?Aphrodite’s part fucking rocks and I’m excited for Apollo and Hephaestus.

Also here’s my ranking for epic Hermes since I wasn’t part of the fandom back then:

10/10

*insert dolphin laugh here*

[th1smf]

OKAYYY so these are all my thoughs about the teaser this morning :)

they better not hurt him guys im screaming. my son better be safe

ok so obviously the lights in hollys room were flickering… why THE FUCK would she be absolutely wailing after coming downstairs. which one of the wheelers are being hurt / dying. i cant do this

best believe will is gonna say “um, guys?” after seeing something ud related 😭 or he is being vecna’d and is having a vision here PLS GOD NO. why else is he walking away from the group and looking up, mindue. its giving that one arcade scene in season 2. im also just suprised mike hasnt noticed hes walked off yet like GO GET YOUR BOYFRIEND BRO. 😭

ross is literally showing him how to choke you can’t convince me otherwise. possessed will is coming home yup 🙂‍↕️

why are they both sobbing. why am i sobbing. i cant fucking deal with this. (but also… MIKE ANGST💪) hes definitely opening up to some extent here.

ofcourse we have this. BYLER LOOK SO BOYFRIEND THIS SEASON I CANT DO IT I NEED THEM. im absolutely loving mikes hair as well it looks so bookie ☺️

(ik these were pap pics but still)

who fucking hurt him. byler tending to eachothers wounds when??? i cant wait

theyre holding hands here mike told me himself 🤗

okay thats it guys i am going insane thankyou

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 38

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

only the dead have seen the end of war by @kartoffxl [MCD]

Lance must have seen something in Keith’s face, because his expression crumpled in anguish. “You… You love me back.” He put his head in his hands. “Oh my god. You loved me. You love me. This—This is so fucked up.” “Lance, I—” “Tell me I’m wrong.” There were tears in his eyes. “Tell me we didn’t just waste all those years being cowards.” Keith clenched his fists at his sides, still reeling from the whiplash of what he had just heard earlier. This can’t be happening. “Say it!” Lance pressed. “Say you don’t love me.” Please, his eyes begged. Keith and Lance finally figure out that they’re absolutely, undeniably, embarrassingly in love with each other, just not exactly in the best of circumstances.

okay so. this is. technically. one of the meaner fics im reccing. HOWEVER. it is gaspingly unbelievably beautifully and painfully written. even the summary kills me -- say you dont love me. im begging you. im begging you to lie to me right now. as we lay dying im begging you to have mercy on me and let me believe i didnt have a chance for beauty with you. im begging you to let me die with one regret instead of millions. please. please dont let me die being loved by you. LIKE WHAT

2. Toast to Freedom by @icypantherwrites

Keith is used to more than his fair share of dark looks. What he’s not used to is seeing those looks directed at Lance for no reason that he can determine and it’s making something uneasy settle in his stomach and the heavy press of the mantle of leader weigh even heavier as he should be doing something about it but he doesn’t know what. But causing a scene will upset the alliance they need and so Keith chooses to wait it out, to address it after the feast. He should never have waited.

will never ever in my life get over to 'i drank your poison because no suffering would be worse than watching it on you' not ever. it is always so so everything. and NO ONE does it like icy panther

3. Disjointed Soul by @icypantherwrites

Lance falls victim to a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that is drawn to disjointed souls to steal them for itself. The Paladins must go into Lance's very soul to save him, uncovering truths about themselves and Lance in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful, adorable soul guides.

"Hi there baby Lance," Hunk greeted. "Ohwah," Lance burbled back. "¡Ohwah!" "Ohwah?" Pidge repeated. "I think he's saying "hola,'" Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello" in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance." "¡Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!"

this is one of THEEEE original insecure lance fics fr like it was the BLUEPRINT. 2018 there wasnt a langst loving soul who hadnt read this at least twice. its not too long for my dears w shoddy attention spans but its long enough to have quite a bit of substance!! team as family with communication and lance at the centre of it. what more do u want

4. Sleep Well, My Son by @icypantherwrites

A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.

look i love a good de aged lance fic and obviously when i was making these bookmarks i was scrolling my way thru the tag. and this one is especially amazing bc it is coran centred! this is a coran fic! this is a fic about quiet grief in the life you never got to live and acceptance for the life you have now and love for the people life has brought you!! it is about coran finding family through people who so desperately need it!! it is everything!!

5. Amigos by @icypantherwrites

A dangerous mission becomes even moreso when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection of his older self in the middle of it. Keith has never been good with kids and that certainly isn’t going to change now. Somehow though he’s got to convince Lance — who doesn’t speak a word of English and is staring at Keith with too wide, too scared of eyes — to come with him, get them both out of the Galran base now crawling with sentries alive, and then, assuming they get that far, figure out how to change Lance back.

shut up about the repeated author shut up about the same trope shut up about the. okay. i am a simple creature. i am annoying. i like to sit on my little armchair and open my little phone and read the same thing a million times. there is a Way to read fic and that way is to click on and scroll through a tag until you find a fic you like then scroll through that author and then go back to the tag and rinse and repeat. besides this fic is amazing okay i love klance but we rarely get platonic klance and its GOOD okay

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Watching Agatha All Along Death's Hand in Mine

Agatha All Along episode 7 spoilers

Agatha pausing between saying ex and best friend when talking about what she was to Wanda👀

Oh my God I can't be the only one that sees like sadness or emotion that flashes in her eyes when he says that Wanda isn't his mom 😭 because she saw just a much Wanda was willing to go to protect her kids and damn

"Hey you want straight answers ask straight lady."😭😂

"The road is a fickle mistress."

Omg the way her expression changes when he says he wonders if she's ever been on the road 😭 like she is remembering what she lost? (Thinking of the head canon where she unknowingly sacrificed her son for power, maybe bringing him with her only to lose him?)

The way Agatha said that the wicked witch was based off of her is so funny and especially her face when Billy says to prove it

Billy: "The horse drawn carri-"

Agatha unimpressed: "Chariot?"

Billy hurrying to fix his mistake: "iot." 😭

The way he said the Sphinx' represent her mysteriousness

WHAT SHE'S BEING TRUTHFUL 👀👀👀

Oh my god she almost killed him with the sword flying 😭😂

Oh my god the ceiling is closing in👀

The way Lila is wondering where they're going and now Jen is like I was literally following you bitch Idk where we're supposed to go

Oh my god I'm sobbing

"how long has it been?"

"centuries"

"eh, long time for you." 😭

Oh my god the way Lila travels through time😭

I feel like the older lady is familiar but I can't place her

Wait what subway station

I wonder if Lila has a family curse too 👀

Oh damn, she experienced her life out of sequence 😭😭😭 that would be so scary

"We are not cool teenager."

"damn using his full name."😭😂

OH MY GOD BILLY IS READING HER MIND😭

"Aren't you furious?"

"I mean always but collectively we've moved on."

The way Lila decides to trust Jen and then proceeds to instead panic over their outfits 😭😂

Awwwwww the way she wanted to protect him by giving him time😭

Lila doing her little stop stop stop dance is me anytime I have a panic attack/PTSD flashback

OH MY GOD IT'S TEEN'S BOOK

Ngl I too would want to put the power away if all I could see was death

I love his little Queer joke😭😂

The way Agatha kept trying to influence what Billy asks😂

Aw my boy doesn't know if he is William or Billy😭

Aw I'm sobbing the way Lila saw how her whole coven would die and she couldn't stop it

Awwwwww the way Lila realizes she's gonna die by falling and decides to use her remaining time to save her new coven because she loves them😭

OH MY GOD THE SEVEN👀

Ngl I kinda dig their vibes

I'm sobbing the way Lila calls Jen her sister in the craft with such emotion

Oh my god I'm bawling

I think she's gonna sacrifice herself because that's the way to save her coven😭😭😭

The way Agatha represents three of swords and that scene has me sobbing

Rio😭😭😭😭

Oh my god the way Rio has arrived to collect Lila AHHHHHHHHHHHH

And the way Agatha shoves the card down on the table, I think Lila knows that Agatha knows

"What can I say, I like the bad boys."😭😂

Oh my god the way she wants them all and gifts Billy back his book😭

"I loved being a witch."

FUCK NO😭

The way she turned the cards so that they would all be impaled 😭 I have chills

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IM GETTING FLASHBACKS TO BLACK WIDOW'S DEATH

Awwwwwwww the way Lila starts her journey again 😭 there's something kinda nice about it showing us how life always starts anew 😭

Soooooooo I'm sobbing and this episode was one of my favorites I think, because it was beautifully done.

[foursaints]

thoughts on barty canonically crying for his father to save him while being arrested?

to me, whether or not the crying is “real” is one of the key moments of barty’s ambiguity in the text and i love that it’s never answered. barty’s ambiguity and the unresolved tension between the parts of him that are “true” and “pretend” is one of my favorite things about him (i think of the classical greek term, polytropos) and i wouldn’t rob him of that by trying to give an answer.  

i can definitely speculate but it's just such crucial scene in my opinion. under the cut i'll talk about the implications of both options. if i had to title a barty character thesis it would be the line from that passage: “and the boy continued to struggle” 

OPTION 1: it's fake

this was my gut reaction at first. faking innocent tears is his best move in that situation and we know him to be manipulative & a gifted actor. it would also have been an audacious and hilarious move given that anybody who even remotely knows him would know that he’s not a simpering little loyal sensitive son & serve as a final way to fuck over his dad— playing up the picture of the Son That He Should Have Been. it would also explain crouch sr. being like “Lmfao Take Your Lying Ass Immediately To Wizard Jail” 

OPTION 2: it's real 

however, i believe that it was real. i dont mean that he actually thought he was innocent or anything but i think the tears were real. in my interpretation we’re watching barty grapple with this farcical trial, knowing full well the outcome, and crying for his entire wasted life. to me, that’s more compelling.

 i try to keep in mind that barty doesn’t have a father in the traditional sense, he grew up under imperius with a disembodied Father-Voice in his head telling his body what to do— he doesn’t know him as an actual man. in barty’s experience, his father is more like an old testament God. so it’s fascinating that he was able to leave & rebel to the extent that he did under those circumstances. he continued to struggle. 

i love that he’s acknowledging himself in this moment. it’s a plea for help technically, but i tend to read it as more of a condemnation: “I’m your son!” 

this is the first time in years since leaving that he’s seeing his father again, this time in physical possession of his own body. but again he’s quite literally in chains. and now all that secret dictatorial control over him is in front of an audience. i see his crying as his elektra “filth teaches filth” moment– if I had to place more of my own emphasis on his words it would be “I didn’t do it— I’m YOUR son”. in this context, “Mother, I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me” resonates harder. 

i also cant talk about this scene without calling attention to this specific moment: 

the line “i didn’t know” feels so… out of place? and guttural? it almost doesn’t make sense in context (saying “I didn’t know” feels more like an excuse for guilt rather than a denial of it) and that incongruency renders it so… honest? and then it’s sandwiched in the middle of this confession that we KNOW is a lie but it hurts for some reason… he didn’t know it would turn out like this. but i think that deep down he did, and he hoped that it wouldn’t.

i think that barty thought he could leave, and he thought he could try and arrange himself into a semblance of his own person, and he thought he could have something of a life. but there was literally no other possible outcome for him— who just happened to be born misfitted to the circumstances he was raised in, and who struggled fruitlessly his entire life— and trying to leave was a naive schoolboy’s fantasy and his apology comes out in a naive schoolboy’s words. he didn’t know! 

and this is also why it's so awesome that he breaks out of jail AGAIN and kills that man lmfao. (cardi b voice) Murder scene, Barty made a mess / POP UP, GUESS WHO, BITCH?

[lordsukunas]

songs made by black artists that i think would suit jjk characters. oh my god this took forever to format n link songs. anyway, happy black history month yall!!!! i hope yall like this bc im sick of seeing taylor swift pop up in the list of artists gojo would listen to <33

gojo – starboy the weeknd, daft punk + ghost town kanye west, partynextdoor

for starboy it just gave im that nigga vibes, and for ghost town it's just the entire ‘i alone am the honored one’ scene. but mayb it could also be applicable to current gojo? idk.

geto – like a tattoo sade

fun fact: this is actually the inspo for my user!! the whole ‘broken by the burden of his youth’ and ‘hungry for life, thirsty for the distant river’ reminds me of his whole reason for defecting. he's hungry for life (wanting sorcerers to not have to risk their life to protect non-sorcerers & actually live a long, fulfilling life) and thirsty for the distant river (remember when they kept with the race/hallway analogy? yeah, and geto's goal was always going to be unattainable for him simply bc he didn't have the strength)

yuuji – adorn miguel + crooked smile j. cole, tlc

UGGHHH he's just so lovely. the most supportive boy ever i love my son sm, and that is my only justification for my song choices.

megumi – alone willow + nineteen pinkpanthress + answer tyler, the creator

tbh… idk bros been goin thru it this entire series, but esp recently. for answer, i rlly liked the first couple of verses (idk what to actually call it, but it's before the first chorus) bc it aligns well w papaguro n megumi. ig the stepdad could be gojo…?

nobara – no scrubs tlc + conceited flo milli + apeshit the carters + on my mama victoria monét

she takes nobody's bs n i love that for her!!! i feel like she'd absolutely love flo milli + megan thee stallion.

nanami – lotus flower bomb wale, miguel + i love you more than you know black party, childish gambino

sorry i rlly like him y'all... there's no angsty reason for these songs! n for i luv u more than yk, it's just nanami if/when he goes to malaysia :3

choso – do you like me? daniel caesar

i actually dk for this one... i just thought it suited him! yk since he wants to live as a human n when he loves he loves hard (shown by how determined he is to be the best older brother to his lil siblings)

toji – she will lil wayne, drake + foe tha love of $ bone thugs-n-harmony, eazy-e + crack rock frank ocean

i am a firm believer toji would like 90s + early 2000s rap. it just makes sense idk, also i once saw a post that said he died just a bit b4 no hands by waka flocka came out and... hey! for crack rock, it's just post-mamaguro him n instead of crack, it's his gambling addiction

sukuna – hater's anthem infinity song + hit ‘em up 2pac, outlawz + king’s dead jay rock, kendrick lamar, future, james blake + unbothered ski mask the slump god

he's a hater just for my son. bum ass nigga... and for hit em up: ‘don't one of u niggas got sickle cell or sumn? u fuck around n have a seizure or a heart attack’

maki & toji – worst behavior drake

self explanatory! them n their rebellion against the zenin clan <3

gojo & geto – oui jeremih

cause if weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! sorry but this is fueled by geto saying ‘we are the strongest’... thats it :p