#GONE. COMPLETELY. IT JUST DOES THINGS TO ME I’M LOSING IT EVERY TIME!!!!!

[kelin-is-writing]

“The fearsome fire that spread and burned everything up”, and that’s on King of Flames Dabi 💙

[fingertipsmp3]

Anyone else having an absolutely unhinged week or is that just me

[chaoticace2005]

Vox’s Rivalry with Alastor: Need for Control

The whole thing with Vox is control. He’s the embodiment of modern technology and surveillance. The privacy issues we face? In Hell that’s all Vox. And when you think of it like that his whole rivalry with Alastor makes so much sense on a logical level.

Things Vox Controls:

-The public: constant surveillance, brainwashing, and further control over media content they consume. He doesn’t just control what people watch but he watches people.

-This partners (to a degree): we see this with how he interacts with Valentino. He isn’t the one in CHARGE, but the thing with Valentino is he tends to be very explosive, and Vox is able to direct the blast in a direction that won’t harm him (offers to bring up employees for Val to kill so he won’t make a public display about Angel)

-Himself: We see how he puts so much energy on to be publicity ready and have a smile on his face. Talking very much like a businessman or politician. He acts completely different in front of camera.

Even his smile. Both Vox and Alastor use smiling as a mechanism to hide their true selves. But with Alastor it works as a way to keep people guessing, to inspire a level of fear oftentimes.

Vox isn’t like that. He puts on a fake, plastic smile. Alastor tries to make himself off putting on purpose, Vox doesn’t. He does it to keep them complacent. Alastor smiles so people won’t figure him out. Vox smiles so people trust him enough not to try.

We see that the second Alastor is brought up that smile vanishes. His self control is gone. Throughout the song we see him lose more control over his public persona, getting more visibly angry, while at the same time the public turns more to Alastor. Meanwhile Alastor also butters his partners up and publicly announces to the world that “no, Vox can’t control me. Trust me, he tried.”

Every single thing Vox controls is threatened when Alastor is involved. Vox has no way to control him.

-Methods he uses on the public? Surveillance and media? Won’t work because Alastor can’t be captured on camera well and hates modern technology. Brainwashing the public? Won’t work if they’re paying more attention to Alastor than him.

-His partners? Alastor declined his partnership and is willing to poke at the relationship between the Vees. All the Vees carry some weight in the relationship, but Alastor could make Vox seem obsolete. He’s able to control their public perception, yes- but one of them could easily go rogue and blow that to bits.

-Himself? Demolished. Gone. He has a public breakdown. He glitches out. Fully cries at the end of the song. Maybe it’s the fear of what Alastor could do, maybe it’s their past, maybe it’s Vox’s weird hate boner, maybe it’s unrequited feelings. Who knows. All logic and control goes out the window when Alastor is involved.

And the thing Alastor seems very much the same. He hates being under someone’s leash. He needs to be in control. When he’s reminded he’s not he lashes out. The first time we really see their masks break is when they’re reminded of the fact there is someone out there that is a threat to the control the have. The “What did you say?” they both do before lashing out.

I’m interested in seeing how they’ll interact in the future. Because they really do seem like two sides of the same coin. The only difference is we know who Vox is afraid of, we don’t fully know who Alastor is of yet. They need power over others, but more than that they need power over themselves. (Alastor being controlled by whatever the deal he made was. While Vox is controlled by his emotions towards Alastor. And both being controlled by their fear.)

( @gabrielsbubblegumbitch I’m curious on your thoughts? I’ve read some of your analyses 1’s would love feedback.)

[triptuckers]

feelings that flicker - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing:  remy lebeau x mutant!reader (reader has the ability to manipulate and control electricity) Summary:  remy thinks you have trouble controling your powers, but there’s something else going on Warnings:  none! Word count:  1.6K A/N: to think this is the third fic I’m writing today and I also finished reading the darkness within us and read and finished what moves the dead… no wifi making me do crazy things lmao enjoy!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

as remy walks into the kitchen, he notices the lights briefly flicker and the coffee machine starts beeping furiously.

‘oh, fuck!’ you say, abandoning your breakfast as you bolt over to the coffee machine.

you put your hands on either side of it and concentrate, making sure the machine’s temperature goes back to normal. remy waits for you to step back before reaching for the coffee pot.

‘I’m not gonna burn my mouth now?’ he says.

‘nope, you’re all good.’ you say, briefly smiling at him before you go back to your breakfast. 

jubilee gives you a knowing smile as she nods her head towards remy. you elbow her in the side, shooting her a warning glare. you never should have confided in her about your feelings for remy. it’s bad enough you nearly lose control whenever he enters the room. you don’t need jubilee to start dropping hints around him.

remy doesn’t seem to notice any of it, as he’s rummaging through the kitchen in search for breakfast. you ignore jubilee’s not so subtle nudges as you continue to eat your breakfast.

for the remainder of the morning, no lights flicker and no coffee machines overheat.

as you go on about your day, teaching some of the kids, remy has been thinking hard.

those flickering lights haven’t gone completely unnoticed to him. every time he enters the room you’re in, the lights flicker and if there’s some sort of machine or electronic device, it also acts up. the same thing happens when you enter a room he’s already in.

the electric stove that suddenly turned on in the kitchen. the tv turning on while no one was holding the remote. beasts’ many monitors that all started beeping at the same time – and you apologising over and over, making sure there wasn’t any damage.

and always those flickering lights.

but he knows you regularly go to the danger room to train. mostly with jean, storm and jubilee. occasionally scott calls for the entire team to have a training session, and remy always watches you closely during those sessions.

you never seem to lose control during a simulation. and he has yet to see you lose control in the field. 

if anything, he’s impressed by your abilities. 

the things you could accomplish never fail to amaze him. in his opinion, you’re one of the best and most amazing x-men he’s ever seen. not that he would ever admit that out loud. the teasing would be endless. and he doesn’t want to embarrass you. 

still, it doesn’t sit right with him the way you sometimes slip up. 

is it something about him? does he bother you somehow?

he’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the conversation stops when he enters the kitchen again in the afternoon.

remy looks up to see jubilee, scott and jean. he raises a single eyebrow in question, but no one explains anything, and jubilee starts talking about the latest session in the danger room she did with roberto.

while getting a snack, remy can’t help but to think he was a topic of conversation before he walked in.

‘hey cyclops, you gon’ work with y/n on controlling her powers?’ he says.

scott frowns at his words. ‘why would I?’

‘she always loses control when I see her.’ remy points out. ‘just this morning she nearly made the coffee machine overheat and combust. jubilee, you were there.’

‘have you ever seen her lose control during a mission?’ says scott.

‘non, but it doesn’t make sense why she would lose control in the kitchen and not when there’s people actively trying to kill us.’ says remy.

at his words, jubilee chuckles.

‘you never noticed?’ she says.

‘noticed what?’ says remy, confused.

‘jubilee, he’s a man. they never do.’ says jean, before turning to remy. ‘she only ever slightly slips up when you enter the room. why do you think that is?’ she says gently

‘que? only when I enter the room? why? I thought she was just jumpy, maybe I move too quietly?’ says remy.

‘come on, gambit, use those brains of yours, you’ll figure it out.’ says jubilee.

remy starts thinking out loud. ‘she only slips up when I’m in the room. or when she walks in and I’m already there. she never loses control in the field. oh, merde, does she like me?’

‘there you go! took you long enough.’ says jubilee.

‘she likes me?’ mumbles remy, smiling to himself. 

‘she’s in her room.’ says jean pointedly.

‘oui, yeah, merci.’ says remy, a bit dazed as he leaves the kitchen.

he had never once considered you might like him, and that that’s why you lose control. it makes sense now that he knows. in the field, you’re too concentrated on staying alive to focus on where he is and if he’s near. 

and he did notice you seemed to blush a lot whenever the lights flickered. you thought it was just embarrassment that your control slipped, but what if it was about him?

of course he’d noticed you when you first arrived at the mansion. how could he not? you were beautiful and he’d seen you demonstrate your powers when logan asked about it. 

now that he knows all of it, he doesn’t get how he didn’t see it before. clearly everyone knew but him? but why hadn’t you said anything to him?

as he reaches the top of the stairs, he sees the door to your room ahead. 

what was he even going to say to you? maybe he’ll just start by asking you about your powers, maybe you were aware of why you lose control.

he knocks on the door.

‘coming!’ he hears you say.

‘it’s me.’ says remy.

the light spilling onto the hallway through the gap near the floor flickers slightly, and remy smiles to himself. 

you open the door and smile at him.

‘remy!’ you say. ‘what’s up?’

since that conversation earlier with jubilee and jean, it’s like he sees you in a different light. your hair is up, and the sleeves of your shirt are rolled up. when he looks closely, he sees a slight blush on your cheeks. 

‘just came to check up on you. and tell you the coffee machine is okay.’ he says.

‘oh ha ha.’ you say sarcastically. ‘thanks very much for that update.’

you step aside to let him in. he notices the workbench in the corner of the room, scattered with various pieces of machinery. a steaming mug shows that you were working on something.

‘did I disturb you?’ he says.

‘not at all, I was just messing around.’

‘you control electricity, right?’

you frown. everyone knows about everyone’s abilities. there aren’t any secrets about powers.

‘and create it, yes.’

‘and you’ve been training for a long time.’

‘yes? what are you getting at, remy?’

‘why do you lose control when I’m around?’ he says, not dancing around it any longer.

‘I don’t.’ you say, hoping he doesn’t see through the lie. 

there’s no way he knows, right? he can’t. unless, of course, he talked to jubilee. damn that girl and her traiterous mouth.

‘come on, chéri, don’t deny it.’ says remy. 

you briefly look at him before you reach out to toy with some of the machinery on your workbench. you mumble something remy can’t hear, so he steps closer to you.

‘what was that?’ he says.

you swallow and look at him. ‘I have issues controling my powers whenever I’m around someone I have very strong feelings for.’ you admit in a soft voice. ‘it’s how I knew I was a mutant in the first place. I nearly electrocuted my first boyfriend.’

‘strong feelings, hm?’ says remy, stepping even closer to you.

‘remy, I’m trying so hard not to burst every light in this room right now.’ you say. ‘you’re making it very difficult like this.’

‘like what?’

‘like this.’ you say, gesturing to the small amount of space between the two of you.

‘but you admit you have, in your words, strong feelings for me?’

‘yes…’

‘parfait. I have strong feelings for you too, chéri.’

your eyes snap up to his upon hearing his words.

‘please tell me you’re not messing with me.’ you say. ‘because if you are, it really isn’t funny.’

remy lightly shakes his head. ‘non, I would never.’ he says. 

you notice how close his face is to yours and take a tenative step back, but your back hits your workbench. 

‘nervous?’ he says.

‘no.’ you say.

the lights in your room briefly flicker.

remy smirks at you. ‘the lights say something different, chéri. would the lights explode if I kiss you now?’

you feel a blush on your cheeks. ‘I don’t know.’ you say softly.

‘want to find out?’ says remy, leaning closer.

‘yeah.’ you manage to say.

remy closes the remaining space between you, pressing his lips against yours. you’re glad the workbench is at your back, because you’re sure your knees have given up on you. 

you feel how his hands come to rest on your hips. through your closed eyelids, you can tell the lights are indeed flickering, and you can feel remy smile against your lips.

but you don’t give a damn about those lights. because remy lebeau is finally kissing you. you couldn’t care less if all the lights burst in the mansion. it’ll be worth it.

A/N: thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

[tasteracha]

a/n: my comeback in the form of a disorganized half silly half poetic felix. thing. inspired by him looking divine enough to lick after walking the runway.

warnings: lix is a little mean and condescending, fem!reader

your lips are on his before he makes it through the door, a sweet smell from the roses crushed between the two of you erupting into the room. you’d been all but waiting at the door since he left for paris, too busy with work and life to take him up on his invitation to join him, though it hurt more than it should have to see him there without you.

“you looked so good, still do, oh my god,” you say against his lips, kisses complimenting every word. 

“thank you, darling,” he pulls away to set the flowers down, and there’s so many. what were you even going to do with all of that? a problem for later, you decide, instead prioritizing entering his personal space once again. 

you take his face in your hands, gentle as to not smear the careful swipes of makeup there - that would be a task for later. it seemed like he didn’t have the opportunity to change and shower before he came home to you, and in your head it had more to do with his desire to see you than the timing of his flight following the after party. you take in the browns brushed across his eyelids, the gentle flush of blush highlighting his cheekbone, the shininess of his eyes as he lets your eyes feast on the delicacy of his features. he’s dressed smartly in a crisp white button-up shirt and high-waisted black slacks that sat around his waist and curved perfectly around his ass. you brush one hand through his wavy, iridescent hair and it’s so feather soft that you can barely feel it passing through your fingers. specks of glitter fall out of it like angel dust and the urge to call him pretty passes through the forefront of your thoughts. you don’t think you will ever get tired of telling him how beautiful he is. 

“never cut your hair again,” you demand, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and twirling the strands between your fingertips. “you look like an angel, lix.”

“okay,” he grins, nuzzling his hand into your palm. “you might have to work it out with the stylists on that, though.”

“i’ll fight them with my bare hands,” you’re completely serious, and fondness takes over his features when he sees the sharpening of your brow and the set of your mouth. “if they bring a pair of scissors near you they’ll face my wrath.”

“down, baby,” he chuckles and removes your hands from his face, holding them in his and keeping you close. “let me get out of these clothes and i’ll let you tell me all about how you’re going to dismantle the stylist empire, alright?”

“no,” you whine, and you’re almost embarrassed at how needy you sound. you were desperate for him, sure, but you weren’t a child. “wanna stare at you forever. everyone else got you for so long, now you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” he echoes, love and affection dripping off of his words like syrup. “but in five minutes, i’ll be yours but wearing a hoodie. how does that sound?”

“fine,” you relent, releasing him completely so he could scamper away at the chance he was given. he was smart like that. 

five minutes, he had said. it took you about one and a half to lose patience and pad over to the bedroom. the door was open, all thoughts of privacy gone after you had reached the first year of your relationship. 

you find him in his boxers, wiping his shoulders with a damp towel and you pounce, trapping him underneath you on the bed. your hips are lined up with his from where you’re straddling him and you can feel his cock jump with interest against your core. 

“this is surprising,” he starts, and you have snark waiting on your tongue about how he should have expected this before he continues. “i thought you would have come in earlier, at least i had time to get undressed.”

“lix, you’re just so beautiful,” embarrassment rushes to your cheeks as you duck your head, ashamed and delighted at having your desperation for him verbalized like this. “can you blame me for wanting you?”

“of course not, darling,” he soothes you with fingertips to your forehead, brushing off tufts of hair that fall back into place right after. “i want you just as much.”

“good,” you grind down on him, savoring how he hisses at the contact. you get a moment of satisfaction before he switches, flipping the both of you over in one practiced move. you end up beneath him, your wrists pinned over your head and his thigh wedged between yours. 

“but i think you may benefit from learning a bit of patience, hmm?” he ghosts his lips over your cheek, running the top of his nose against yours. his hands leave your hands to wander over your sides, running up the hem of your shirt and towards your breasts; you weren’t wearing a bra, so he had easy access to your nipples and he took full advantage of this. 

the sensation isn’t enough, heat already pulsing in your core at just the look of him. you try to buck your hips up against his thigh but the angle is all off and you give up in frustration after a few attempts. you hated and loved when he got like this - teasing, controlling, edging on condescending. it was so unlike him in any other way that it sent sparks of excitement tingling up your spine. 

“giving up so easily?” he smirks, and even that is soft around the edges in a confusingly adorable way. you never know what he wanted, and that made it even more fun. did he want you to act desperate or be patient?

you voiced as such, and he tutted and moved to get off of you with a shake of his head. his hands leave your shirt and you grasp for him, nails scrabbling against his bare chest and leaving lines of red in their wake. he pauses, leaning over you like a fallen deity and you almost falter, but the need to get one over on him wins over. 

“if you don’t touch me, i’ll just do it myself,” you reach one of your hands towards your shorts, fully intending to go through with your word. it wasn’t much of a threat, but you knew it would work on him. or well, you hoped it would. 

“but darling, i am touching you,” he moves his thigh, still flush between your legs and you jolt. of course he would get the angle right. “you’re this worked up and you haven’t even told me what you wanted from me yet.”

“you know what i want,” you mumble, fire rushing to your cheeks again at having been outsmarted by him again. you should be used to this by now, but it ignites feelings inside of you as if they were the first time you were experiencing them, time and time again. 

“i want to hear you say it,” he purrs, falling back against you and pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. “i want to hear how badly you want me. i want to know what you were thinking about when you were touching yourself while i was gone.”

you want to deny his words, want to tell him that you didn’t think of him at all, but you knew he would see right through you. you loved him with every aching beat of your swollen heart, you couldn’t deny anything even if it was just to keep up the dynamic he had started. 

“i thought of you inside of me,” he pinches your side and compliments it with a nip to the shell of your ear, his breath hot on your skin. not good enough, he says with his actions. “nothing else feels like you. i couldn’t finish without you- ah.”

your breath is pushed out of your chest as he begins to kiss down your neck, his lips finding every sensitive spot on your skin like he was tracing a line that he had drawn on you.

“t-thought about the first time we had sex, when i knew i wouldn’t fuck anyone else for the rest of my life,” you might have been laying it on a little thick, but you knew he would fall for it. he might have teased you for being possessive, but he returned every inch with a mile, even if he was better at hiding it. he groans against you, tightening the hold he had around your waist, and you knew you had him. 

“flatterer,” he says, less of a tease and more of a statement. he rewards your efforts by slipping his hand into your shorts, rubbing at your pussy through your panties. you had a second to worry about the wetness that had been collecting there, but it fizzled out with the pressure of his fingertips. 

“wanted you to be here, to keep me full all day,” you were babbling now, saying anything to keep him going. as slow as he was being, you had no doubt that he would walk away just to keep up the act he had put on tonight. he was stronger than you in that way, one step ahead just by sheer force of will. “was hearing your voice in my head, telling me how good i was, how good you felt.”

“my darling is always good,” he murmurs, pushing aside your panties to slide his fingers against your clit. you never understood how a man who couldn’t tell the difference between a fruit and a vegetable was such an expert in your anatomy, but you weren’t one to complain, at least not about that. “even when you’re being a brat, you’re good.”

too soon, he removes his fingers from your core, wiping them against your shorts and shushing you when you open your mouth in protest. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” he assures, staying close as he kneels over you. “just let me get you undressed, unless you want to stay like that?” 

“dick,” you narrow your eyes, “i’m not going to answer that.”

“do you want my dick or am i a dick?” he pauses his hands, shorts and panties halfway down your thigh from where he had pulled them and you huff out a laugh.

“you’re hilarious,” you deadpan, kicking your foot to urge him to keep going as you lift your shirt off to quicken the process. you needed his dick inside of you like, yesterday. preferably. 

he pulls off his own briefs and they float to join yours on the floor and you can finally see his cock, half hard and pink and flushed and perfect. 

god, everything about him was perfect. 

you spread your legs a bit, smiling when his hungry eyes land on your pussy, now fully on display. you could see the fight in him fizzling out; for all his talk, he was apart from you for so long, and as strong of a man he was everyone had a weakness. 

he crawls back over you, stroking himself until he’s fully hard and leaking. he braces himself with one hand by your head, the veins on his arm popping at the exertion of keeping himself held up, the other hand guiding his cock into your folds to swipe against the wetness that had built up there. 

“c’mon, lix,” you turn your head to press a kiss to his wrist, the delicate flesh feeling fever hot against your lips, and you can feel him trembling. “i’ve unintentionally edged myself for days, take me.”

“what did i say about patience?” he grunts out, but there is no bite in his words and despite their implication he presses the head of his cock against your hole. 

you can’t help but tense up in excitement, the one thing you’d been craving for several nights finally within your grasp. he ducks his head to kiss you, mumbling a relax, baby against your lips and at once your body melts into the mattress. 

when he finally slides into you it’s like coming home, the feeling of two imperfect pieces slotting together to create a masterpiece. everything else in the world fades away and it’s just him, the feeling of him inside of you and on top of you, his face taking over your vision and his scent invading your nostrils like a drug. 

on another day he might have spent hours taking you apart with his mouth, teasing you with his fingers in ghosted touches and playful dancing. on another day he may have prolonged the game, made you recite every single thing you wanted him to do to you before doing it. but today, he stays like this for a moment, buried inside of you and panting into your neck, savoring the feeling of your tight heat around his aching cock. when he starts moving it’s like fireworks are bursting beneath your eyelids, sparks shooting out every time he hits your spot. 

you try to match his thrusts with your hips, lifting up to meet him halfway, but you end up exhausted after just a few moments. his movements were getting more intense, quicker and harder until he was fucking into you without abandon and you couldn’t keep up even if you wanted to. this is what you were waiting for, the wildness of his body and the sharp possessiveness glinting in his eyes, the teeth he bared before sinking them into your neck and the harsh grip he kept on your waist. 

you both finish fast, but what else could one expect from two beings completely obsessed with each other? time was fickle in the face of the two of you together, every minute felt like an hour. and besides, now that he was home you could do this over and over. 

he fucks you through your orgasm, whispering i love you’s and my darling’s into you as he follows you soon after. he ends up collapsing against you for a moment, and the breath you lose is worth you feeling his chest heaving with exerted breaths and the way he nuzzles into whatever patch of your skin he can find. 

“lix,” you mutter out, totally spent even though this may have been the tamest sex the two of you have had in a long while. 

“hmm?” he scootches over to the side and gathers you in his arms, holding you like you’re something precious. 

“do you still want to teach me about patience?”

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | June 3rd-23th 2024 ~ Fics

Sorry for skipping a two weeks! I had a work thing the weekend before before last and work is a bit busy at the moment so I couldn't get to it during the week. Hope you enjoy!

Complete

Take the Lead by Inell/ @inell (Getting Together, Post-S7 | 1,3K | Teen): Buck and Eddie finally have a conversation that they’ve needed to have for months, if not years.

take me out and take me home by bellabrady (Getting Together | 1,7K | Not Rated): Maddie has been texting him, asking him if he’s asked Buck yet and reassuring him that he’ll say yes, although after a few days, it seems her patience started to run out and the reassurance kind of turned into bullying. So he’s going to do it. He’s going to ask Buck out on a date, today. Partially because he wants to finally be with Buck and this will hopefully be the start of that and partially because he’s getting tired of Maddie texting him that he’s a coward — Or: Buck and Eddie finally go on a date.

thanks, babe! by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Getting Together | 1,8K | Teen): Eddie accidentally calls Buck babe and refuses to have a meltdown over it. It was just his subconscious betraying him because they were surrounded by couples, right? Right?!

hit the jackpot by coupe_de_foudre/ @panevanbuckley (Canon Divergent, 1x09: Trapped | 2K | General): “I’m your husband.” “You’re my husband? Holy shit!”

baby don't you know? (you're my golden hour) by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Post-S6 | Getting Together | 2K | General): Eddie will give him this: Chimney does wait months after Buck’s out of his coma and back by his side to bring it up. “How come you and Buck haven’t told anyone you’re together?”

I wish I could help by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Post-7x05: You Don't Know Me, PWP | 2K | Explicit): Eddie is so pent up he can barely focus on his job – and Buck is all too happy to help. That’s just what friends do.

the 'i' in ikea stands for 'i love you' by ipretendtobesane/ / @useramor (Getting Together, Didn't Know They Were Dating | 2,8K | Teen): buck has some life changing realizations in the curtain section of ikea. mainly, he's really, really in love with his best friend.

Chance Encounter by Inell / @inell (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Divorced Eddie/Shannon, S4 | 3K | Teen): When Eddie and Buck go to the Hollywood Farmer’s Market, Eddie doesn’t expect to run into his ex-wife for the first time since moving to LA two years ago.

(for every question why) you were my because by thatbuddie (talktothesky) (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “Being boyfriends and being friends is really different,” Buck says. “But if you’re so okay being friends with him,” Eddie explains, “It means there wasn’t anything he did wrong while being your boyfriend. So I don’t understand why you broke up with him.” “I didn’t break up with him because he did anything wrong.” Eddie opens his arms wide and then lets them drop down to hit the side of his thighs. “But then what happened? I just don’t understand. What happened?” “You! That’s what happened: You!” (or, Buck breaks up with Tommy but won’t talk about it, and Eddie just needs to know why.)

of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Getting Together | 4,8K | Teen): Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it.

one single static frame by signetsealed/ @gayeddieagenda (Post-S7, Pre-Buddie | 5K | General): Chris is gone and Buck and Eddie are called on for babysitting duty. Eddie has feelings about it.

some version of you that I might not have (but I did not lose) by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Coma Dream, Pre-Buddie | 5K | Teen): Either Eddie is dreaming and can't wake up, or he's losing his mind. He's not sure which one is more likely.

Baby Got Buck by bgonemydear, Chash/ @ponyregrets (Pre-canon to S7 | 5K | Mature): Five times Buck checked out a guy's ass before he figured out he was bi, and one time someone checked out his after.

sounding like the rest of my life by coupe_de_foudre/ @panevanbuckley (Canon Divergent, Getting Together | 6K | General): or, Eddie does a Ravi and swaps shifts for a bit, only everyone on B Shift is convinced that he and Buck are married. they might not be as wrong as Eddie initially thought.

buried deep, our love comes home by lookforanewangle (Post-3x15: Eddie Begins | 7K | Teen): “You care for him.” “Of course I do,” Buck says, gaze back on Eddie against his will. He squeezes Eddie’s hand again. “He’s my best friend.” “That’s not what I meant.” “I—I don’t—Bobby, it-it’s not like that—” or: After a traumatic few days, Buck and Eddie get their shit together.

i told my future by reading your lips by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (2x06: Dosed, Time Travel | 7K | Teen): In 2018, on their way to a call at a child beauty pageant, and feeling a little strange, Buck and Eddie are suddenly thrown into a fast-paced look at some key moments from their future. And, what they see? Well it can only lead to one logical conclusion.

oh, come when you're called by lesbianrobin/ @lesbianrobin (Post-S7 | 8K | Teen): Chris wants his dad. He wants his bed. But he can't have those yet, and he and Dad never really text because if Dad’s not working they’re usually together or one of them is too busy to text, so texting Dad feels weird, but Buck… He can text Buck.

🔥 Saints into the Sea by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-7x05: You Don't Know Me, Coming Out, Jealous Eddie | 8K | Teen): There's an itch between his shoulder blades when Buck talks about Tommy, when Buck asks Eddie if he wants to join the two of them for a drink after work, when Buck smiles at a text message and Eddie knows it's from Tommy. His stomach had been twisted in knots for half of Maddie and Chim's wedding, watching the two of them. There's only one awful, inevitable conclusion: Eddie isn't actually as comfortable with Buck's coming out as he thought he was. Which is, frankly, unacceptable.

If You Want It, You Can Have It by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Halloween, Identity Porn | 9K | Mature): Buck just wants to enjoy a Halloween night out with the 118, drinking and dancing and making fun of Ravi's costume, all the while trying to handle his newfound feelings for Eddie. He thinks he's being smart, trying to get over his best friend, or at the very least, keep his secret under wraps. He ends up doing the exact opposite. It ends up yielding great results.

🔥 We're at an Impasse Here; Maybe We Should Compromise by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-S7 | 9K | Teen): "You cannot murder anyone," says Maddie. "Also, if you were going to murder your captain, it would be very stupid to write murder down as your top idea for how to deal with him." "It's on a dry erase board!" Chim protests. So far, all he's written on the board is Ways to Deal with Capt Gerrasshole, and then 1. Murder? below it. "And I put a question mark. So even if I didn't erase it, the jury would never convict. A question mark introduces reasonable doubt."

friends don't mean nothing to me (it's us) by Kwills91/ @kwills91 (Pre-S2, Canon Divergent | 15K | Teen): Buck and Eddie meet before he joins the 118, and it just might be the balm he needs to get over Abby. But when Eddie starts working at the station, Buck doesn't understand why Hen and Chim keep looking at them that way, or why Bobby seems to think they're dating.

🔥 when the longer days of sun appear, they'll be rising like an answered prayer by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Post-S7, Fake Relationship | 18K | Explicit): Eddie is generally worried when Tommy and Buck break up because Tommy's ex moved back to town, and even more worried when that leaves Buck without a date to a wedding. So, of course, Eddie's going to help him out with all of that.

🔥 like a bird stealing bread out from under your nose by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Fix-It | 21K | Mature): If you’d asked Eddie back in May what rock bottom looked like, it was his son leaving him. That felt like it; everything ruined so entirely that there was no way to ruin it further. There’s always more to lose.

🔥 some things fall when they're meant to fall by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Post S7E5 | 25K | Teen): Eddie’s gaze drop to Buck’s lips—pink, like his birthmark. Eddie wants to taste those lips, and he wants it with a fierceness so sudden it shocks him. “I’m, uh,” Buck stammers. “Last night. When you saw me and Tommy…we—we were on a date.” Everything inside Eddie goes still. If his heart is a kite, then this is the moment it plummets back to earth. or, Buck tells Eddie some news. Eddie has a realization and breaks up with his girlfriend. Not necessarily in that order.

🔥 that magic feeling by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (S7 Fix-It | 42K | Explicit): An alternate ending to season 7, in which Eddie doesn't completely blow his life up, and he and Buck realise they're in love.

🔥 ripples all the way down by iriswests/ @fcntasmas (Getting Together, S4 | 52K | Mature): With some coercion, Buck allows Maddie to set him up on a date. Surprisingly, the date goes well — and it keeps his mind off the unnamable feelings he’s been studiously ignoring for his best friend. Until Christopher’s science report on gentoo penguins — no, seriously — sets off a series of events that has him somehow spending more time at the Diazes’ side, and he feels like he’s going just a little bit insane trying to juggle a burgeoning relationship, his jealousy over Eddie’s own new relationship with Ana, and his inability to move on from the place that’s been his for three years in the Diazes’ lives. Oh, and Eddie keeps looking at him like he has something to say — except he never says it. This is the tumultuous road to finding out what Buck truly wants, paved by pebbles. -- or; christopher partakes in some parent trapping

🔥 stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting | 85K | Not Rated): Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

WIP

🔥 Steal My Sunshine by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Altered Memories | 7/9 | 24K | Mature): Memories hazy and unreliable, Eddie Diaz wakes up every morning in a house at the end of a cul de sac, goes to his office job at a petroleum engineering company, and comes home to his wife and son. But something is missing, and the more Eddie begins to put the pieces together, the stranger the predicament he finds himself in. 

🔥 If You Can Make the Music by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, | 1/5 | 2K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 5 (Seaside): A year after a whirlwind two week love affair with bartender Buck in Galveston, Texas, Eddie Diaz finds himself coincidentally relocating to the area. But when he attempts to reconnect with Buck, he's in for an unfortunate surprise. (Part 3 of Coma-Verse)

The Smutty Ones by Tizniz/ @tizniz (PWP | 55/? | 22K | Explicit): A collection of smutty Buddie drabbles.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 129/? | 405K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 33/? | 21K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 33. 19. "If we get caught kissing we're dead but let's risk it." 

🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 4/22 | 18K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 13/19 | 67K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

Re-Read

the secrets we keep (the ones that spill out) by sparegarbage/ @babybucks (Getting Together | 4K | General): Or: Buck and Eddie comfort each other with cuddles, hugs, and kisses (platonically—or so they think).

Tear me to pieces and make me feel whole by justhockey (Getting Together | 2K | Not Rated): And that’s when it clicks. In the pasta aisle of the grocery store, at 10am on a Saturday morning. Buck is frowning as he tries to decide what to get - and Eddie is in love with him.

[darsynia]

Banana (Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Steve unexpectedly stayed over, and you want to make him the best breakfast ever.

Length/Warnings: 1,700 words | sexual contact

It's your ACTUAL BIRTHDAY @ronearoundblindly!! For banaNA, the delicious centerpiece of my 7 Ro Roll stories, we've got an established relationship morning interlude of teeth-rotting fluff. Enjoy!!

Excerpt:

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

Banana

You really hadn’t expected your boyfriend to sleep over. It wasn’t the traditional date where you dress up in something beautiful and eat out at a ritzy restaurant, then come home and undress to experience something beautiful. It was the kind where he comes by with takeout and the two of you watch movies until you both fall asleep on the couch.

Still, you’d like to make the morning intentionally special for Steve.

You can’t ask him what he likes for breakfast while he's in the shower, but you're sure he has a metabolism-stimulating plate of protein every morning, looking like that. After assessing what's in the fridge, you make the decision to go all-out. He’d been used to mess hall communal meals back in the army, right? Plus, there's a kitchen in the Compound, so he probably makes his own breakfast. You lose a few minutes just picturing that.

Ten minutes later you’ve made him a plate with two kinds of eggs, sausage patties, buttered toast, and a little cup of sliced strawberries. The glass of orange juice ended up using the rest of the carton, but you can always buy more.

You wait with bated breath with your own breakfast, a generous bowl of oatmeal with your favorite fruits garnished with brown sugar. Steve doesn’t need to know those were the only eggs, nor that you made him the last of your sausage.

“Wow that smells great, are you setting up your crock pot or something?” he calls out from the hallway. You grin, excited for the surprise. Soon he’s coming into the kitchen, still drying his hair off with one of your towels. He smells amazing, and everything about the moment is exactly what you’ve always wanted.

Except… he looks uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic to eggs,” you fret.

“Oh, those are for me?”

“Well, yeah, look at the size of the plate! I guess if you want the oatmeal…”

He’s walking into the wide kitchen doorway, disappearing behind the wall for a moment (during which your mind races, thinking of all the things you could have done wrong. Does he dislike pepper? Allergic to citrus? What if he hates sausage? Why did you think this is a good idea!?).

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s got a banana in his hand, along with a fork, knife, and spoon. “Together, we’re a table setting,” he jokes, holding them up.

You almost facepalm-- you’d completely forgotten silverware. “Thanks.”

After the eggs and fruit are gone (accompanied by many enjoyment noises that punctuate your discussion of baseball), he points at the empty bowl of strawberries with a neatly-sliced piece of sausage on the end of his fork.

“You should know, I usually only eat a banana or some sliced fruit like this for breakfast, but this is delicious. Thank you.”

You conjure up the least embarrassed smile you can manage, but inside you wonder whether his honesty is warring with his sense of politeness.

“You’re asking yourself if I’d lie to make you happy, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Guilty,” you sigh. “I’m glad you said something before I made this mistake multiple times in the future.”

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

He stands, coming over to take your hand and draw you solicitously up to your feet for a sweet, brief kiss. Steve's expression turns more serious, and he looks you right in your eyes.

“I’m hungry.”

You cannot be reading him right. It’s wishful thinking.

“There’s still that bana--”

Steve interrupts you with another kiss. It’s full of passion--a rough hand at your hip, thumb caressing your cheek, teeth scraping out of desperate sloppiness. The man is wrecking your mental health, but you’re right there with him, slowly filling up with heated liquor at every swipe of his tongue. He lifts his head and smiles gently, his lips twitching for a few seconds before he leans his head back and laughs.

Two months ago you would have thought he was laughing at you.

One month ago you’d have nervously played along in confusion.

Now you shove at his shoulder in mock frustration. “Out with it!”

“I can’t pull off that line, I’m sorry! I did my best,” he confesses sheepishly. “I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch with you asleep on my chest and texted Clint about what to do.”

“Oh, God,” you say, trying valiantly to hold back a giggle. “Why Clint?”

He backs up into the kitchen with his hands held up defensively. “I thought I could trust him! I figured Natasha would give me… questionable advice,” Steve says, “--and neither of us wanted me to ask Tony.”

“Oh, God,” you say again, this time in actual dismay.

“Exactly.” He pulls out one of your leftover containers and its matching lid, and holds them up.

He looks so good in his tight pants and form-fitting t-shirt that you gather up all of your Steve-loves-me courage.

“I thought you were hungry?” you say impudently, walking over and taking them out of his hands to set on the counter. Sliding your arms up around his neck, you kiss him with as much fervor as the kiss just minutes ago, letting your hands roam into his hair, down over his arm muscles, and finally to your goal, his waistband. Because you want his full permission before you do anything further, you mouth your way from his lips to his jaw, so he can say something if he needs to. If his enthusiastic participation in the kiss so far is any indication, though, there’s hope he’s up for it.

You circle the button of his pants with your thumb, slipping your fingers past his waistband. He hasn’t put on a belt yet, and there’s something intimate about it that’s beyond anything sexual, like he trusts himself to be not fully put-together around you. Falling asleep on the couch with you is one of those kind of things, too.

Steve whispers your name in a hoarse voice that’s rich with desire.

“Yes?” you question, hoping you’re not pushing too much.

“Yes.” 

Arching up to give him a kiss, you release the button and push the zipper down slowly, as much a caress against his groin as anything else. Steve throws a hand out to the side, and you feel a surge of excitement to think he’s so enthusiastic already.

“Here,” he says, throwing the towel that usually hangs from the oven on the floor at his feet, eyes full of amused apology. “Believe me, I’ll want to hold on.”

It’s so Steve Rogers to worry about your knees.

There’s nothing you can say that won’t sound terribly gauche or overeager, so you kiss his chest and pull his pants down to his feet, kneeling as you go. You look up at him, holding eye contact as you tug down his boxer briefs--but you don’t have the bravery to keep his gaze for your first taste.

Steve’s holding himself rigidly still, but you can feel his leg muscles tighten up even more when you take him into your mouth. It’s validating as hell. You pull back, sucking, loving the feel of him, warm and vibrant and wanting you. 

At that point you let yourself bliss out, eyes closed and fully attuned to him. When he makes a guttural little sound of need after you do something, you add it to the rotation, and when he starts to rock his hips forward, you quicken your pace. Everything is perfect; the crease of the towel digging into your knees, the taste of precum in your mouth, the searing ache between your legs, and most of all, how alive Steve is under your tongue, against your hands, in your throat.

“Ahhhhh,” he groans, and slams a hand onto the counter. You realize you’d hummed in happiness, and god, he’d loved that. You let out a little moan of pleasure of your own at the thought of just how wet you’ve got to be by now.

As a reward for you both, you hum again.

That sends him, starting a glorious chaos of holding on and taking it all in. When Steve reaches down and flails at your hair and shoulder, you let him pull you up and into his arms. Steve holds you tight to his chest, right each there against the counter with his pants around his ankles, each of you pulling as much oxygen and approval into your bodies as you can.

He pets your head and leans down. “Want to know what Clint said to tell you if the first line worked?”

Two months ago you were sure you weren't good enough for him and it could never last.

One month ago you’d have worried this levity was a sign you'd done a bad job.

Now, you glare up at him in utter adoration.

“If it’s something about being barefoot in the kitchen, Rogers, I’m going to go to the bedroom and finish by myself.”

“Never mind,” he says, moving sideways just long enough to get a hand on his pants to tug them up. He does the button but not the zipper, then picks you up, heading into the hallway. At the doorway to your bedroom, Steve fucking Rogers looks down at you with a loving expression and says, “Don’t worry. I’d never leave you behind.”

[dairy-farmer]

hi! i was going thru my notes and found this lil thing HAHAHA i vaguely remember writing this while going through your blog, but I don’t recall which string of posts inspired this burst. Sharing this here as a thank you for your wonderful blog and for all the equally wonderful anons ❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️

Before Tim leaves to search for Bruce, Dick somehow manages to knock him out and Tim loses his memories.

Dick keeps Tim locked up inside the manor while he goes out as Batman with Damian as Robin.

Damian doesn’t see anything wrong with what Dick was doing. He just thought Tim was deadweight to them.

Damian doesn’t really understand either why Dick tells everyone that Tim was off gallivanting elsewhere trying to find Bruce when he was definitely hiding Tim away in the manor.

Damian observes Dick’s frantic rush to build a completely lead-lined room once news of Superboy’s return slips past their ears.

Damian talks to Jon about Connor’s disbelief when Dick tells him that Tim went around the world to look for Bruce. “Kon said he couldn’t hear Tim’s heartbeat.” Jon tells Damian. “But Dick insisted that Tim was still alive.”

Three years after Bruce’s death, Dick asks Alfred to retire. The old, weary man reluctantly agrees with a promise to visit every other month or so.

Several years later, Damian knocks on Tim’s door.

“Damian!” Tim greets with a warm smile from his spot seated by the window. “How was school?”

Damian walks over, picking up a hairbrush along the way, and situates himself behind Tim. “I submitted the painting I showed you last week into an art competition.” He shares with Tim. He narrates the events of his day as he gently passes a brush over Tim’s now-waist length hair as per habit.

He never fails to marvel at the softness of Tim’s dark hair and how the man shivers when Damian’s hand accidentally brush his neck. The warm afternoon glow dancing on Tim’s face makes his hands itch to grab a paint rush and capture the moment forever, but he manages to resist with practiced ease. He has more than enough paintings of Tim and said man, while never complaining about being the subject of Damian’s numerous artworks and sculptures, was never really fond of staying still, trapped as he was in a single room.

As the sunset falls into night, Tim softly asks, “Will Dick come to visit me soon?”

As Damian had expected.

He sets down the hairbrush and clenches his fist behind Tim’s back. “I’m not sure.” He says as if reading from a script for the nth time. “He’s currently with the Tamaraenean woman so I wouldn’t know.”

Tim gives a noncommittal noise and gestures for Damian who grabs his waist and hand to help Tim stand up. In silence, Damian leads Tim towards the bed.

Tim lies down on the bed and whispers to Damian’s knuckles, “I hope he visits soon.”

Damian caresses the growing bump on Tim’s belly, emotions warring in him. “I‘ll see what I can do.”

!!!! thank you!!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work!! and i'm so happy you decided to share this!!!!

dick freaking out when tim tries to leave and just opting to kidnap him and lie to anyone who comes around is so good especially if he tries rationalizing it rather than admit he was wrong. but in his panic he hurts tim maybe worse than he intended so now there's no way he can let anyone know what he did sou he doubles down on everything. and damian is there and lucky for him he chooses to believe dick knows best and what he does really is for the best but then it's years later and tim is still this helpless, stupid little thing. he hadn't gone outside in years because dick thinks the best place for tim to be is inside especially since now that he's pregnant.

and damian, who has grown up with this, just...accepts it as it is even if some part of him has grown...uncomfortable at what's happening.

damian's league conditioning has slowly been taken apart and worn away with dick's help but part of damian still can't help but feel...something at dick having impregnated timothy yet he's still running around messing around with gordon, the alien, and other flings. timothy is about to be the mother of his child and it just...it feels deeply disrespectful especially since he and richard are timothy's WHOLE world. he interacts with no one else but them.

so damian starts taking up spending more time with tim, brushing his hair, bringing him his groceries, airing out his room for him when his belly gets too big.

damian is there when tim goes into labor.

he tries calling dick about it but gets sent to voicemail which means he must be...busy. dick's been a lot more busy lately- his interest in former lovers re sparked when they found out timothy was pregnant.

the more charitable part of damian says that the idea of parenthood just scared dick and that's why he was acting like this. but the less nice part of damian condemned him all the same.

timothy is in labor, about to give birth to his first child and dick. wasn't. there.

damian thinks he can handle it- getting towels, water, and medical supplies ready.

but as the hours pass tim grows..weaker. he's covered in sweat and practically white as a ghost.

tim hasn't seen a doctor in years. they'd been mostly depending on damian's medical and surgical knowledge to care for him but if damian had missed something about the pregnancy...

dick had never explicitly said tim wasn't allowed to leave but it was silently implied.

still, tim had never tried and damian had never encouraged him.

but then tim is struggling and so damian doesn't think twice about picking him up and passing through all the security measures guarding him.

damian leaves the lead lined and kryptonian soundproofed wing of the manor and makes his way to one of the cars.

half way to the hospital he hears a sonic boom and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

he knows it must be timothy's clone friend. out of all the capes he'd been the hardest to convince to let timothy go.

but yet he doesn't descend and crash down in front of the car. but damian can tell they're being followed as he drives up to the loading bay of the hospital.

timothy's eyes are big and enchanted as he stares at their surroundings despite his labored breathing and damian is once again reminded timothy hasn't been outside in years.

its all a blur after that. damian sticks as close as he can to timothy, holding his weak hand even as doctors and nurses work around them.

distantly, damian notes his phone in his back pocket is vibrating with urgency.

grayson, if its him, will be furious.

damian can't quite bring himself to care.

grayson had nine months to show up and he didn't. he'd left the work to damian. so now damian was going to do what he thought was best for timothy.

even if it meant taking him outside.

[unformula1]

everything fell apart (CL16 x reader)

everything fell apart (CL16 x reader)

part 1 (everything's falling apart) | part 3 (everything's gone) series masterlist- everything (you're losing me)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

synopsis: choose something babe, i got nothing.

“When were you going to tell me that this is happening?” He says, his hands gesturing at you two.

“Charles don’t say stupid things.” Arthur intervenes which gets him the deadliest glare from Charles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: charles leclerc x reader / arthur leclerc x reader

word count: 1299

a/n: wasn’t planning on part 2 but here we go!!! also Charles’ personality is COMPLETELY fictional, I promise he’s NOT like this. also sorry if this isn’t how yall want this to go :\ I tried. pretty rushed too. leave suggestions in comments or requests or anything tbh.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @kryingkat22 @iamkaku @vizzzashley

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi.” He finally picked up.

“Hi Arthur.”

“Hola. What’s up?” He sounds like he’s chewing something, you hear distant keyboard clicking sounds in the background.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask, holding back the sobbing.

“No! Never a bad time!” He excitedly says, his voice resembles Charles’ a lot. 

“Can we talk?” 

“Sure!” 

You hear more keyboard clicking and shuffling of stuff before Arthur lets you start.

“I love your brother.” You start off strong.

“Mhm. Clearly.” Arthur replies.

“Does he love me back?” You ask.

“Of course he does.” Arthur responds, pretty naively.

“Because lately he’s been a lot more… aggressive and he’s been going out a lot. We haven’t had a proper conversation in weeks.” You ramble, still trying your best to hold back your tears.

“Oh.” Arthur hesitates, “Really?”

“Mhm.” You respond, “And he’s definitely not the sweetheart I fell in love with.” 

The first sob comes out, along with a teardrop. You quickly wipe it off with your hands, taking a deep breath.

“Mon ami, don’t cry.” He says almost instantly after your first sob.

Arthur and Charles were brothers, but they were also vastly different in many ways. Arthur definitely read people better but Charles treated them like royalty (used to). 

Right now, Arthur’s voice is all you need, him and his calming voice. You desperately needed someone who could understand you, someone who would get what you were going through.

Arthur.

“I’m trying really… really hard.” You say in between sobs, which were growing much more intense.

Arthur doesn’t respond, you can hear his breathing. He hesitates. You don’t care, all you need is someone to listen to you.

“Sometimes it feels like I’m losing him and it kills me every time that shows.” Your filter completely turns off as your sobs turn into full-on crying.

You’re tired of this.

“It’s okay darling…” Arthur whispers across the phone.

His voice is the most comforting thing in the world. Charles’ voice too, but that was before all this happened. 

“What if…” You let out a loud cry, just thinking about it, “What if… he’s found someone else.” 

You let out a louder cry and you descend completely into tears and rambling. Across the phone, you hear shuffling of feet and footsteps.

“Please stay on the phone. I’m coming over. You’re at Charles’ house right?” He says, door locking can be heard, “Stay there.”

You try to reply to him but you just let out more cries. You manage to will out a mhm for him which earns you a sigh.

You stay on the call, no words are exchanged, you’re just crying and he’s doing whatever he can to comfort you.

“Charles would never.” Arthur reassures you, “He’s faithful.”

You hope so too. You desperately hope so.

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

It doesn’t take long before you hear a doorbell ring. By now, your entire face is red and your eyes are puffy. You’re not a pretty cry-er but you could care less. Your hands are clasped together with tissues lying all over. 

You quickly walk over to the door, adjusting your hair to at least look partially presentable for Arthur. 

You take a deep breath and you open the door.

“Charles?” Your voice raises an octave or two. 

“Yes?” He responds, as cold as he can sound.

“What are you doing-” You stutter out whatever words you can say.

He looks up from his phone, looking at your red and teary-eyed face, turning his attention to the couch which is ridden with crumpled up tissues.

He looks at your phone, and the call with Arthur.

“What were you doing?” Charles questioned, it sounded harsh and brutal, like an interrogation.

“Talking… and crying.” You hold back the tears just thinking of everything that happened.

“Talking to Arthur?” He says, even more suspiciously.

“Yes.” You reply.

He looks at you dead in the eye and keeps his phone in his pocket, taking a few steps toward you. Naturally, you take a few steps back. He stops and glares at you. You clutch onto your phone. 

Looking at your phone, Arthur has muted himself in the call but a message drops from the top of your phone.

what now?

You didn’t know either. 

Your head spun round the different possibilities right now.

“Mon amour… give me the phone.” He says, stretching out his hand to take the phone.

You scoff in your head. Mon amour. As if.

Another message from Arthur pops up.

give it to him

You look at the message and look back up at Charles, whose hand is still outstretched.

Give it? What were you? You weren’t just something Charles could command around. 

“No.” You shakily say out.

Charles' voice grows angrier, “Please.”

“I want to hold onto it.” You insist. Your heart pounds hard against your ribcage.

Your phone buzzes a few more times before the call disconnects. 

Charles’ face looks mad and horrified, maybe a mix of both, added with a little bit of anger. 

“Don’t make this hard… please.” He says, the “please” feeling more fake than ever.

Arthur appears at the front door, which is still wide open.

The Leclercs share a glance before Charles returns his glare to you. 

“Charles.” Arthur says, with that accent which you fell in love with one too many times.

“Arthur, please leave… right now.” Charles demands.

“Charles.” Arthur repeats, taking a step closer to you two.

“So when were you going to tell me?” Charles scoffs, alternating between looking at you and Arthur.

“What?” You say.

“When were you going to tell me that this is happening?” He says, his hands gesturing at you two.

“Charles don’t say stupid things.” Arthur intervenes which gets him the deadliest glare from Charles.

“I’m not stupid.” Charles says, taking a few steps backward, “I know what this is.”

Is he being serious? After all you’ve done for him? The audacity of him to think you were unfaithful. It killed everything inside of you knowing you would never do such a thing. 

You snap.

“Are you fucking serious?” You say, the essence of sobbing is still there.

“After all I’ve done for you?” You continue, taking big steps toward him. This kills you too, it hurts everything inside you, “I loved you. I loved everything about you.” 

“Liar.” Charles scoffs harder.

Your eyes widen. You had to process his words. Liar? Liar? LIAR? 

“What?” It was less of a question and more of infuriated word placement.

“I fought for this. I fought against the world for me to be able to have you. And all I did was bleed.” You shout, your voice raising with every word.

Charles looks shocked. His face is blank and unreadable, his eyes glow an unfamiliar glow. It’s not angry or sad, it’s like he’s…confused.

The realisation of what you said quickly hit you back. You love Charles, you really do. Were those too harsh? 

“Guys…” Arthur quickly breaks the tense silence, “Maybe we should sit down?” 

“No- I’m not doing this.” Charles slams his hand onto a nearby table, grabbing his bag and storming out of the house, not forgetting to push Arthur out the way.

“Charles!” Arthur calls out to no avail as Charles storms down the corridor.

Arthur quickly turns his attention to you.

“I-” He doesn’t know what to say, “I didn’t know what to say-”

You look at him, your eyes watering up and before you knew it, you were running into his arms, breaking out in tears.

He hugged tightly onto you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He kept repeating in your ears as you slowly descended into just crying and sobbing. Your tears staining his shirt.

“What do I do now?” You say in between deep breaths.

“I…” Arthur looks at you, then around you, “I don’t know.”

[cloakedsparrow]

Bruce is Tim’s Biological Father AU idea #5

Janet wasn’t in any rush to get married, but being a young woman with a steady boyfriend from a well off family, naturally everyone kept asking when she and Jack were going to take the next step. Janet always remarked that she was happy with the relationship as it was; that she was focused on her career goals; that she and Jack were letting things move organically.

In her presence, Jack always gave similar answers. One day, when he didn’t realize she was in hearing range, he joked with some peers about not wanting to settle until he’d explored all his options. She let him know she’d heard him and told him to feel free to explore his options and that she’d do the same. He pulled a med student; a barista; a couple administrative assistants: young women who were very sweet and equally boring. She pulled men like the Davenport heir, Adrian Veidt,John Constantine (she’d been a Mucous Membrane fan in college), and Bruce Wayne. Realizing he was going to lose the most impressive woman he’d likely ever know, Jack told her he wanted to get back together and proposed shortly after.

When Janet learned she was pregnant with Tim (and what the due and conception date ranges were), she knew right away who the father was. As they’d been split up at the time, Jack couldn’t hold it against her. However, he didn’t want Bruce involved in their marriage (he was a bit jealous of the man). Janet didn’t want anyone telling her what to do with her son, so she agreed not to tell him.

It was always something of an open secret among the Drakes (Jack, Janet, Tim, and Janet’s father who died when Tim was little) that Tim was Bruce’s child. They never talked about it. Ever. Not even to confirm it to Tim who just kinda worked it out for himself. Janet always suspected that Tim knew but again, they never spoke of it.

After he intervened on Bruce’s spectacular breakdown following Jason’s death, Tim assumed it was the same in the Wayne household. After all, Batman was considered by many to be the world’s greatest detective. Alfred and Dick were certainly no slouches in the investigation department either. Of course, they’d figured it out for themselves just like Tim had.

And, just like the Drakes, of course they didn’t openly acknowledge the fact.

It wasn’t until Bruce returned with news that he had a son with Talia that Tim finally acknowledged it, thinking Bruce would get the joke because he already knew.

“If you had a nickel for every illegitimate child you had, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s still weird that it happened twice.”

“…”

“Especially with you being, like, the master of preparations and contingency plans.”

“…”

“It’s just weird, is all.”

“Who else do you think is my child?”

“…”

“…”

“Oh, shit, you have no idea.”

“No idea about who?”

“This whole time, you- Crap.”

“Tim.”

“Crap.”

“Tim.”

“Give me a minute, I think I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

“You look completely calm.”

“Yeah, well, my nervous face and my calm face are the same.”

“…”

“…”

“Tim?”

“Not that I want any details, but, uh, do you remember sleeping with my mother?”

Bruce was not expecting that response but he quickly does, in fact, remember having sex with Janet. He then connects the dots to the joke that started the current conversations and does some quick math.

“Sleeve up. We’re drawing blood.”

Sitting down in shock for a minute as the paternity results stare him in the face, Bruce realizes that Tim’s reactions suggest Tim knew and assumed Bruce knew and that just goes in a loop in his head for a bit: all this time his son thought he knew.

He’d sent Tim home to an empty house or overseas to train with strangers, and the boy had gone, thinking that was his father knowingly sending him away.

He’d been dismissive the one time Tim commented on his parents always extending their trips or otherwise fighting, and the boy had kept his silence, thinking that was his father knowingly leaving him in that environment.

He’d given Tim back to Jack when he woke from his coma, and the boy had gone, thinking that was his father making a deliberate choice to give him up.

He’d let Jack take Robin from Tim (and keep him from seeing him) in exchange for his silence on Bruce’s identity as Batman, and the boy had agreed, thinking that was his father sacrificing him for his secret.

He’d offered to adopt Tim after Jack’s murder, and the boy had turned him down, thinking that was his father refusing to publicly acknowledge their true relationship.

He’d helped Tim solidify the records on his fake uncle and the boy had accepted the help, thinking that was his father knowingly passing him off to some stranger.

Tim had been prepared to move into the stable apartment after his fake uncle died, until Bruce brought up the adoption again, and the boy agreed, thinking that was his father telling him their relationship had to remain a secret.

The joy of realizing that Tim was truly his warred with concern over the fact that his son thought such behavior was not only acceptable from a father, but should be accepted quietly.

He’s has no idea how he’s going to fix that, but he’s Batman, he’ll work it out.

[bookished]

( a collection of starters or dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"You know, every time we compete, it feels like I'm fighting not just to win, but to prove something to you."

"I thought beating you would make me feel triumphant, but all it does is remind me how much I’ve come to care about what you think."

"Do you ever wonder why we’re always pitted against each other? It’s like the universe wants us to be enemies."

"Every time I see you win, it just makes me want to try harder. Why is it so important to me to be better than you?"

"I used to think this rivalry was just about competition. Now I’m starting to think it’s about understanding each other better."

"Sometimes I wonder if we’re just pushing each other to be better, or if we’re secretly trying to outshine one another."

"Every time I see you succeed, it feels like a personal betrayal. I can't help but wish you'd just disappear."

"I’ve had enough of your smug face and constant victories. If it were up to me, you’d be gone by now."

"Do you know what I really want? For you to lose everything, to see you brought down to the ground."

"Sometimes I dream about what it would be like if I could erase you from existence. It would make my life so much simpler."

"Every victory you claim feels like a personal insult. I’d give anything to see you lose it all."

"If it were up to me, you’d never see the light of day again. I’d make sure you’re out of the equation for good."

"I can’t stand the thought of you thriving while I struggle. Sometimes I wish the worst for you, just to balance things out."

"You’ve been a constant obstacle in my path. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t fantasized about your complete downfall."

"I hate how you always seem to come out on top. It makes me want to see you utterly defeated and broken."

"I’ve imagined countless ways to see you suffer for what you’ve done. It’s not just about rivalry anymore; it’s personal."

"I wish I could erase you from my life completely. It would be a relief to see you fall and never rise again."

"The more you succeed, the more I wish for your total destruction. It’s like every win for you is a loss for me."

"I’d do anything to see you fail, to watch everything you’ve built come crashing down."

"You’ve become such a nuisance that I can’t help but wish for your complete annihilation."

"It’s almost a relief to think about how much better my life would be if you were out of it permanently."

"The only thing that would make me happier than winning is seeing you completely defeated and humiliated."

"Sometimes I think the only way to end this rivalry is to ensure you’re out of the picture for good."

"I can’t help but envision scenarios where you’re utterly crushed. It’s become a dark obsession of mine."

"If I could, I’d make sure you never have a chance to compete again. I’d relish in watching you fail completely."

"You’ve pushed me to the edge. The only way I can find peace is by ensuring you face utter ruin."

[joshym]

No Hands

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader 

Summary: Your little game works out exactly in your favor.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: (18+ MINORS DNI) unprotected sex, light dom/sub (roles switch a bit), rough sex, oral & fingering (f receiving), some good fluff.

A/N: I had a thought in my head that I just could not shake, so naturally I had to write it out and, well, here it is lol. I’m a bit nervous as this is my first smut to post here, but I truly hope you all enjoy. <3

Huge thank you to @jakeyt for the beautiful moodboard to accompany my unhinged thoughts, and for being the best editor. <3

💛

It’s the early evening, the golden glow shining through the windows is casting the house in an alluring warm hue. Josh has been gone most of the day working on the many projects for the upcoming album.

 You miss him tremendously. You’re longing to have him near; you’re craving his touch particularly bad tonight. You keep catching yourself thinking about his hands and how well they search your body. They’re so strong and intentional with every touch. It feels like a lightning strike through your body with every graze of his fingertips.

 He’s coming home soon and you’re already plotting your scheme.

 You start to doll yourself up, putting on little touches of makeup and fixing your hair in a set of effortless curls.

 It doesn’t take much to drive Josh crazy for you, but there’s one dress in particular that sets him off every time. In fact, it’s a rule that you aren’t allowed to wear it out in public anymore because he can’t seem to control himself. The dress is tight and quite short, nearly revealing it all every time you move even slightly. The back of it is completely open with the straps crossing in the back tied with a small bow. It’s black and adorned with small white roses. It hugs your body in all the right ways, and it looks really, really good on you.

 So, naturally, you eagerly grab the dress that’s tucked away in the back of your closet. You put it on and smile widely at your reflection and instantly think to yourself, ‘he’s going to lose his damn mind.’

 Before you know it, you hear the front door unlock. Your stomach is full of butterflies, but you do your best to maintain composure as he walks in. You greet him very nonchalantly, paying no mind to the fact that you’re donning the dress.

 “Hi, baby! How did everything go today?”

 He’s staring at you with wide eyes, looking at you with pure lust-filled confusion.

 “It, uh, it went well, I guess.”

 He sets his keys down on the table in the foyer and moves his way across the living room to you, never taking his tired eyes off your body.

 “What’s the occasion, my dear?”

 He moves closer, grabbing your waist with intensity and pressing his face in the crook of your neck. His lips faintly connect with the skin under your ear. You shudder at his touch but still manage to keep up your façade.

 “Oh, this old thing? I just found it in the closet and felt like trying it on. No big deal, really.”

 His fingertips tighten around your waist as he moves his lips closer to your ear. His voice becomes low and heavy, deep and hardly above a whisper.

 “You know what this little ensemble does to me, sweetheart.”

 He attaches his lips to your neck with vigor, causing you to momentarily break character as your body trembles. His hands move down slowly to your thighs to play with the hem of your dress. He starts to move them up under the fabric until you abruptly stop him by grabbing his forearms.

 “I want to try something.”

 His lips have yet to leave your neck, only stopping to respond to your inquiry.

 “Yeah? I’m listening, lovely.”

 You want to test him and see how far you can take it. He’s quite handsy, and you love how desperately he needs to touch every part of your body. You know that this will drive him over the edge and make him even more desperate to touch every part of you.

 “Go sit on the couch and put your hands behind your back.”

 He looks at you curiously with a large smirk gracing his flushed lips.

 He takes a seat on the sofa, obeying your command and holding his hands behind him as he leans against the cushion.

 You slowly make your way over to him, being sure to make it a bit of a show as you swing your hips. You gradually lift your dress up, ever so slightly revealing your black lace panties before you straddle yourself on his lap. He starts to move his hands to touch you, but you stop him.

 “I want to try a ‘no hands’ kind of challenge. You must keep them behind your back while I kiss you, and if you move them, I’ll stop.”

 Josh lightly groans and shifts his hips upwards, sending a harsh thrust to your body as you can feel him begin to harden instantly. You’re breathless at the sensation and eager to see how far this little game will take the two of you. A devious grin graces his face, his amber eyes becoming heavy and dark.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to regret this little game. But I’ll play along.”

 It’s rare that Josh lets you take control during these fervorous moments between the two of you. He has quite the dominant side to him, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have it any other fucking way.

 You’re infatuated with every part of him, especially the part that takes control and pleasures you in ways you never thought possible.

 Sometimes, though, you liked to rile him up, to test his dominant side. Tease him relentlessly until he can’t stand it any longer and really lets you have it.

 He knew exactly what you were doing, and he’s ready to give you just what you want.

 You start kissing him with intense desire. Your hands cup his face while you explore his hungry mouth with your tongue. You start to move your kisses to his jawline, one of your favorite spots, licking and sucking on the tight skin.

 He hasn’t even tried to move his hands yet. Dammit. Time to amp things up.

 You start kissing the spot under his ear, licking his earlobe where his silver hoop rests between kisses. You know this drives him mad, and his reaction tells you he’s beginning to lose control.

 You decide to turn things up one more notch. You begin moving your body, grinding yourself on his lap. You feel him start to twitch, his breathing becoming labored and staggered.

 “Baby…you’re only making this worse for yourself…”

 His voice is becoming more sinister, more possessive, more domineering. You feel his arms tense up as he’s fighting the urge to grab you.

 You’ve got him right where you want him. Just a bit more taunting and he’ll give it up.

 You suck dark marks all over his neck, moving your hands to his hair and lightly pulling. Your movement becomes vigorous against his lap, and you feel yourself starting to tremble at the sensation.

 “I don’t think you can keep this up much longer, baby. I can feel how wet you are, you’re shaking. How much longer ‘til you let me take care of you, huh?”

 He’s starting to find the loophole in your plan. He’ll get you to give in and give this whole thing up, taking over his place as the one in control.

 And fuck, if you didn’t want that so badly.

But you’re not ready to give in. Not yet. You have to see how far he’ll let you go.

 “You’re being so good for me, Joshy.”

 You manipulate your voice to sound much more composed than you actually are, trying to keep up this semblance of control when in reality you’ve never been more ready for him to ravish you.

 You up the ante once more, knowing this will more than likely be what does him in.

 You reach down between your bodies and grope him through his khaki shorts, evoking a strong reaction from him.

 “That’s it, y/n.”

 He moves his hands from behind his back and grabs your waist, flinging you off him and laying you on your back on the couch. It all happened so quickly; you didn’t even have time to retaliate.

 He makes up for lost time, maneuvering his hands to every inch of your body with potency. He bunches the fabric of your dress up to your hips, not wanting to waste the time to take it off completely. His fingers dip down to the black lace still covering your soaked pussy.

 “Look at that, sweet girl. You’ve got yourself all worked up. What shall we do about that, hm?”

 You giggle breathlessly, unable to form words due to the anticipation of what is about to happen.

 “Uh uh. Tell me. Tell me what we need to do about it. You did this to yourself, sweetheart. Now use your words and tell me what you want, or I’ll stop.”

 The roles have officially reversed. He’s played you with your own game. And you love it.

 “I want you to use those incredible hands of yours all over me..”

 You meet his lips with a few small pecks.

 “..and your mouth..”

 The kisses deepen.

 “and your cock…”

 He’s smirking against your lips as his hands begin to delve into exploring every crevice of your body.

 He grabs your neck, squeezing lightly but with enough force to cause your breath to hitch. His other hand has bunched your dress all the way up to your stomach. He traces his fingers down the expanse of your belly, stopping right above the waistband of your panties, then moving to your exposed hip.

 The hand on your neck moves down slowly to your chest. He grabs your breast through the fabric still covering it, kneading with his firm fingers and brushing his thumb over your nipple.

 His lips travel down to your neck, sucking large love marks in the skin, softly biting and licking in between marking you up.

 He pulls off your neck with a ‘pop’ from his mouth. Your skin is soaked from him.

 “As much as I want to rip this cute little dress off of you, I think you should keep it on to remember why you’re not allowed to wear it in this first place.”

 His hand on your hip moves back to your aching pussy still covered with black lace.

 “Oh I think you’ve ruined these, sweetheart. What a shame. I love these on you.”

 He pulls your panties all the way down your legs and throws them somewhere on the floor, leaving your wetness fully exposed. His fingers waste no time toying with you, rubbing hard and slow circles over and around your clit. Your body shakes and quivers with each movement of his fingertips.

 His middle and ring fingers slide down to push past your entrance and fuck into you with intensity, his palm creating delicious friction against your clit.

 His hands are so skilled, so strong; you feel like melting under his every touch. His long fingers immediately hit that place deep inside you that only he knows is there, that can only be reached by his touch.

 You’re already so close. A melody of powerful moans escapes you, and you don’t even bother silencing them. You feel yourself tightening around his fingers when they suddenly slow to an agonizing halt. His deep and taunting voice grabs your attention away from his stilled movement.

 “Already? You that needy for me, baby?”

 His face just barely above yours, his warm breath tickling your skin in the most glorious way.

 “Josh please, please don’t stop…I need you so bad..”

 “Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg for me.”

 His fingers start moving again, picking up their pace and you’re right back to where you were before he stopped.

 The waves of pleasure come crashing over you like a tsunami. Your whole body tenses up under his touch, shaking uncontrollably, your back arched completely off the couch, bending to his will to please you. He keeps going, fucking his delectable fingers into you through each pulse and throb of your body.

 You’re almost faint at the sensation. Josh pulls his fingers out and brings them up to your lips. You open for him as he places them on your tongue and you suck them in, tasting yourself and moaning at the feeling of them in your mouth.

 “That was a big one, yeah? I felt you tighten up so hard around me. You think you can handle more, sweetheart?”

 You nod and hum around his fingers that are still tucked away, splayed across your tongue.

 “Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”

 Josh lifts you up on your knees, your elbows resting against the back of the couch. He stands behind you in admiration as you spread yourself for him. He gives a soft slap to your hip, kneeling to the ground at eye level with your throbbing core as his hands grab your thighs.

 “You’re so pretty and pink after you’ve been played with, baby.”

 He delivers velvet kisses to the backs of your thighs, slowly making his way to where you need his swollen lips the most.

 His lips move closer and closer, until he finally lands a deep kiss to your desperately wet pussy.

 His tongue laps at you without relent, his lips encompass your swollen clit.

 “You feel so fucking good Josh, fu-”

 You’re already close again. Your moans are deafening at the slight over stimulation that is nothing but elating.

 “J-Josh…please don’t, please don’t stop I’m so close…”

 Your body is trembling, barely able to hold yourself steady as your second release washes over you.

 He stands up and his face meets your shoulder, feeling your wetness all over his facial hair.

 “You taste so sweet, y/n. I could eat you up over and over.”

 You’re short of breath, still coming down from your climax.

 He leaves kisses on your shoulder as you hear him unzip his shorts.

 “Think you can handle my cock, darling?”

 “Y-yes, please. I need you inside me so bad.”

 He places his head at your entrance. He’s unbelievably hard, and you smile at knowing it’s all because of your pleasure.

 “Needy little thing, aren’t you? You gonna cum for me again, hm?”

 He’s barely nudging at you. You’re practically pushing yourself against him.

 “Joshy please fuck me. I need to feel you, please…”

 With that, he slowly pushes into you all the way, filling you completely and perfectly.

 “Fuck, y/n. You’re so tight, sweet girl.”

 He starts thrusting, building up his pace until he’s slamming himself into you.

 His hands are moving up and down your body, pushing on your back, grabbing at your hair, holding on to your hip. These hands that you love so much; these hands that turn you on instantly. They’ve not stopped exploring you and pleasing you. You can’t get enough of his fucking hands.

 He’s fucking you with so much rough passion and desire. Your body is on fire with pleasure.

 He lifts you gently by your hair, bringing your back up to rest against him.

 “I’m close baby. Give me one more, yeah? Then I’ll fill you up real good. Just one more for me, need to feel you cum on my cock.”

 His fingers sneak down to your clit, rubbing impossibly fast circles.

 “I’m gonna cum again, Josh..oh god please don’t stop.”

 He’s moaning beautifully in your ear as his peak is almost reached, causing you to let go around him, cumming even harder than either time before.

 “Fuck, y/n, that’s it baby. FUCK!”

 He finally meets his own release, spilling his warmth inside of you, twitching with each pulse of your body.

 You both stay just like this for a few minutes catching your breath and basking in this moment together.

 He gently pulls out of you, causing you to slump down on the couch. You’re absolutely spent, having been pleasured beyond all imagination.

 He lays down beside you. He faces you and brushes your disheveled hair out of your face, giggling at your fucked out state.

 “I didn’t break you, did I?”

 You laugh breathlessly, “Not quite.”

 “I love you a lot, you know.”

 “I love you too, Josh. So damn much.”

 He glides his hand over your cheekbones and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, smiling at you.

 “I know exactly what you were doing, by the way.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 “Your little ‘no hands’ game. Maybe next time, you’re the one that can’t use your hands. Maybe we tie them behind your back. How does that sound, hm?”

 You bite your lip to hold back the smile that is trying to grace your lips at the thought of him taking your game to the next level.

 “Sounds great, Joshy. As long as your sexy hands are free the whole time.”

He smiles, knowing just how much his hands drive you crazy.

“Well then, you better keep this dress in a safe place.”

Part 2

Masterlist

[plussizefantasia]

crunch

Flufftober Day 14: Leaves

Jasper Hale x reader

Word Count: 0.5k

AN: this one is short and sweet. Please reblog if you enjoyed reading it.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

There was something so human about the fall season. The falling of leaves and the sudden coldness that permeates the air. It all reminded Jasper a bit too much about being mortal. Of course, he hadn’t been mortal in at least a century, but you were. You were mortal right now, he could lose you at any moment. You could wither and fall, just like the leaves on the ground.

That is why Jasper was in a bad mood. But he was trying his best to latch onto your feeling of joy. You were positively radiant with joy while taking a stroll with Jasper on the way home from school. The day was overcast, as it commonly was in Forks but the lack of sunshine never seemed to bother you. 

Jasper admired your ability to find happiness in the small things. For how long he’s lived, the monotony of every day seemed to make the fleeting moments blur together. He had gone decade with the days and nights melding into one. It wasn’t until he had met you that he seemed to wake up from his stupor. It was still difficult for him to understand how stepping on leaves brought you so much joy, but he would watch you and bask in the warmth that your joy emanated.

“Why do you enjoy this so much Darlin’?” He had asked.

“Dunno Japser, I like the noise, I guess.”

“Is that why you step on all of them?” He didn’t see the appeal, and if he was completely honest the noise kind of grated on him.

“I guess. Why? Does it bother you, ‘cause I can stop.” You offered beginning to look up and walk normally.

“No, you don’t need to stop Love, I’m just curious I guess.”

“Curious about what?” 

“Why do you get so happy while doing such pointless things? I like that you have things that make you happy, but I don’t see how crunching dead leaves get you so overjoyed.

“Oh Jasper,” You smiled moving to wrap your arm through his “I’m not overjoyed because of the leaves, I’m happy because I’m spending time with you.”

If his heart was still beating he's sure that it would send blood to his cheeks at your remark.

“You make happy Jasper, more happy than I’ve been in a long time. I could be filing taxes and as long as I was with you I’d enjoy it.” Your words settle into his mind like syrup. Slowly covering his thoughts with you and his love for you.

Maybe that is why he liked being around you. Even in the moments that he struggles with his hunger, just being near you puts him at ease. He feels like he can breathe with you, even though he doesn’t need to. At first, his fear of putting you in danger far outweighed any desire to be near you. But when he realized that being near you was the only way to keep you safe, he became almost impossible to get away from, though you never wanted to get away from him anyway.

“You make me happy too Darlin’.” He pulled your arm out of his and moved it letting it hang in between the two of you. He laced your fingers together and continued your walk. Smiling when you started stepping on leaves again.

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Psycho doctor Aemond

He isn’t expecting his estranged sister’s daughter (you can decide if blood related or not) to walk into his office. It’s a shock to him. More than a shock. Seeing her completely vulnerable wakes something in him that’s been dormant for a long time

At first he might ignore it

But eventually he wonders…. He could get away with this

He’ll have her strip and examine her body VERY thoroughly. He’ll question her about her sexual activity while pinching her nipples. He says it’s an old way to test for pregnancy. He’ll say he needs to examine her further and have her on her back, her legs spread. The excuse he comes up with is “I need to see that everything is working as it should, now don’t I?”

He will gaslight her. He’ll insist this is necessary to fully understand her physical health. You just can’t know the full picture unless you’re VERY “hands on”

He’ll be fingering her aggressively while her legs are spread. He swears he’s just “throughly examining” her insides. But he’ll be covering her mouth with one hand to keep her quiet and with the other fully tormenting her poor cunt

Perhaps he’ll write her a prescription for “hormone regulation” that’s really just a strong aphrodisiac

If he gets bolder he’ll have her legs in stirrups with a curtain between them, and tell her he’s going to “more closely examine her”

But really behind the curtain he’s close to losing it all. He needs just one go. He’ll take out his cock and thrust himself inside her. If she makes a noise he’ll comfort her and tell her “it’s just the tool I’m using, it’s a stretch at first. Just relax and let me do my work. You trust me, don’t you?”

Behind the curtain he’s fully using her, and occasionally she’ll whimper for him to be gentle and he’ll just tell her not to worry, be a good girl.

He justifies the cum inside her by saying it’s an internal medicine. It’ll help her overall reproductive health. At least that’s what he says

He might even get bolder. Have her come to his office late at night for a “procedure” that supposedly requires her to be asleep. She won’t question why he uses sleeping pills instead of anesthetic. He doesn’t give her reason to question it

And when she’s asleep, THEN he can finally fully have her. Stripping her bare and fucking her until he swears he can hardly feel his own cock. Perhaps he got too carried away. She is sore for a long time after. But it’s nothing more fingering by him can’t fix

Maybe he’ll just continue using her this way, with no one questioning or knowing. Or maybe he wants to take it farther. He does like the idea of her just getting pregnant because of everything he’s done. Or maybe he’ll actually inseminate her to make SURE it happens

He’ll make sure her pregnancy flies under the radar. For months he tells her that the symptoms she’s experiencing are for different things. He makes every excuse he can. And he’s clever with it

Once she starts showing he gradually finds more and more excuses

Perhaps someone will eventually figure it out. Maybe she will. Or maybe he somehow slips it by until he decides it’s time for her to give birth. Once again, alone with only him. He doses her heavily with aphrodisiacs and eats her out until she’s squealing. Such a foolish girl, too far gone to question this.

But then he finally reveals what he’s been doing, when she looks up to see him with a painfully hard cock. And before she can say a word, he’s inside her.

Maybe it all clicks in her mind then, maybe she just can’t think straight. But Aemond takes her harder than he ever has. And he won’t stop until her contractions begin

Once they do he’ll smirk at her. He will keep going until he finishes. But then he’ll pull out and continue to play with her clit. As well as toying with her nipples

The poor confused girl can hardly think straight, as Aemond brings her over the edge as she gives birth to a baby she didn’t know she had.

Aemond of course knows what to do. And he’ll do it, then put the child in her arms. She’s still coming down completely and extremely confused. But slowly it’s coming together

However now it’s far too late. Aemond realized what he can get away with. And there’s no chance of her ever escaping him now

🔥🔥🔥

[insidefernweh]

Well, hello.

A couple months ago one silly woman (me) decided that it’s time for creativity to take a hold of her and let something cool into this world.

And that’s how I decided to give birth to…a The Amazing Devil blanket. Or I might have dreamed it whilst being feverish. Who knows.

It’s been three months of stitching, embroidering, sewing, unmaking the mistakes, cursing, saying ‘waahheeey’ at the end of the complete step, cursing again and enjoying the hell out of the process of something being made into the realness. 

It is literally the embodiment of me. I love it and hate it equally. It has got my favourite quotes from the songs. Yes, that’s me — your favourite girl with maelstrom of lyrics instead of a brain. It also has got some of my blood somewhere along the stitches (did i do it on purpose to please the fae gods aka Joey and Madeleine? you’ll never know. hashtag blood magic.) I wanted to get it done for the Ruin Appreciation Week (though it contains lyrics from all albums) so that was me last week because it was very FAR from being done:

I’m posting the bigger picture + close ups of smaller details and songs’ lyrics. Please feel free to reach out if you want to see a better close up or just to pat me on the head.

I’m posting a video too. It’s silly so enjoey. (ha! see what I did here. that was a typing accident. it’s 1am now. forgive me my jokes.)

warning: the video include some probably offensive actions to the professional seamstresses. i’m only a humble ignorant person who decided to sew for the first time in her life. i do hope you’ll like it.

references used:

the central embroidery: TAD’s old picture from some posters back in the love run era + some sage and forget-me-nots

top right and left bottom corners: pictures of joey and madeleine

songs: secret worlds, the calling, inkpot gods, drinking song for the socially anxious, chords, farewell wanderlust, not yet/love run (reprise), that unwanted animal, battle cries, elsa’s song, wild blue yonder

UPD: A few of you have been asking about the quotes I used on my blanket/quilt and why I chose them so here I am:

If you ask me for my fire, just watch me burn — you know what, I recently started to interpret this line in a positive way? It was a recent thing I understood about myself. I always thought I was good at working/doing things well in the long run, when you have to do it patiently and for years but in my journey of self-discovery I realized that in reality I’m much better as a sprinter — someone who does an incredible job while being under the vast amount of pressure and when you need to do it in a restricted period of time; I will give all of myself to this project/work, every bit of passion I have, every bit of patience. So yeah. If you ask me for my fire — just watch me burn. But then I’ll hibernate for a month. 

Can’t you hear it howling? — OKAY HANDS DOWN PROBABLY MY FAVOURITE LYRICS/MELODY SECTION FROM THE WHOLE RUIN ALBUM. Even not the part that is sung by Madeleine, but the back voices Joey’s harmonies sing in the final chorus at 4:28 and till the end. OOOOH WHY SO GOOD.

If I don’t make it back from where i’ve gone just know I loved you all along — this is such a beautiful closing of the song. also such a tormenting thought. i love it.

Such endless blue — I’ve always been drawn to the dark blue colours, especially when I paint. I always run out of the blue watercolour because contrary to this song, it’s not endless :D I’m manifesting an abyss of blue watercolour for myself here lol

You say the words so often but I barely know the meaning — okay so Elsa’ Song is primarily pretty heartbreaking right? The more heartbreaking part being that it is sung as a lullaby. Who didn’t have that moment when the meaning of the words you’re saying slips through your fingers just because you said them too often? Who didn’t have that sad awakening moment of losing trust in a person just because they always promised something and never did it?

After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last — I’ve been thinking about tattooing this quote for quite a while now. It reminds me of my depressive state which very often returned to me in summer and every time it slowly creeped away, I felt the hunger for life in the early autumn.  Every time felt like an eternity. 

Is nought but fumble-falls and guns and tumbleweeds, love, run — my favourite quote from the superior use of the English language that is that section in Love Run. I am in love with it. All the phonetic twirls makes me shiver sometimes.

Well, hello my hollow Holofernes — ALLITERATION SUPREMACY!!  

I’ll sing silence and ask my glass of wine for guidance — i love to sit at home alone and stare into my glass. it doesn’t answer though. what about it. and again — to sing silence? OXYMORONS GIVE ME THEM

Go tell me how we fucked you up and oh my god, it’s so unfair — ah. the hardship of parenting/teaching. I was there, I remember it all too well. 

Let’s us waltz for the dead — the oxymoronic style of this line IS JUST A CHEF’S KISS. WALTZ? VERY SOPHISTICATED THING? FOR THE DEAD? NOT THAT PLEASANT TYPE OF A THING? mister batey let me boop you affectionately on the nose you are so clever.

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tommy is sick of being sat upon by some nut job he barely knows. It’s been days trapped under a Philza who doesn’t really register human words and mostly just coos whenever Tommy tries to cuss him out. Techno says it’s ‘cause Philza thinks he’s been hurt and needs to be protected, which like, yeah, fine sure, but not by Philza. Tommy already has a guardian. His abuser has to be insanely worried about him, especially after Philza assaulted him for no reason. But every time Tommy tries to escape he’s just dragged back and everything gets worse.

At least that part is familiar.

He’s forced to stay in that nest for days, and Tommy has never handled being cooped up well. Some part of him likes the weight of a parent roosting over him and the feeling of gentle hands combing through his wings and hair, but the overwhelming majority of his instincts just wants his abuser back. Techno is of absolutely no help, mostly since Philza keeps trying to murder him. But he sits in the corner and is open to chat, or read a book aloud to him to stave off some of the boredom. Best advice Techno has is that Philza will be normal again if he thinks his chick is safe and happy.

Hell no. Tommy is not feeding this guy’s delusions, especially when Techno reveals Tommy’s own feathers had been woven next to Philza’s in the nest long before Tommy’s abduction. A-grade creep behavior there. Besides, his abuser will come save him soon. Tommy is so acutely aware that he’ll never save himself.

But then it’s been days and he’s losing hope and just wants to go home, so desperately Tommy tries to figure out what Philza will register as a happy chick. Usually chirps just burst out of him, not something he controls at all, but with some struggle he forces out the little trill he made every time his abuser came home.

Something twists in Tommy’s chest as Philza echoes the joyful chirps at him. It feels horribly right, complete whereas with his abuser the greeting was never returned. That wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t an avian. Neither of them had known what was needed to soothe his instincts. 

But it works. Philza blinks rapidly, pupils returning to normal. His gaze locks on Tommy, eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” Philza wraps him in a warm hug. Juuust great. He was hoping to leave after Philza got over it. All he wants is to get back to his abuser, but when he says as much the embrace becomes a vice. Tommy naturally rejects Philza’s awful claims, growing more and more desperate as his abuser is slandered. First the absurd claim he somehow stopped Tommy from flying, like it wasn’t because Tommy was too weak and small to. And then it’s after him for not providing proper shelter at their nest, even though his abuser was trying to teach him to be responsible when he had Tommy make his shack. Then the lack of healing supplies, then the fact he was dying alone when Philza found him.

“No, it’s my fault I tried to fly when he was gone! He was there for me every time I was injured! Shut up, I can too prove it. Hard not to be there when he caused it half the time!”

For some unknowable reason, Philza doesn’t take that well. Neither does Techno, even when Tommy tries to explain they’re misinterpreting what he said, really it was Tommy’s fault, mistakes and the natural punishment for his actions. When he argues it wasn’t bad, Techno brings up the injuries a bit too old to heal when he used the potions. They try to get in his head, voicing all the thoughts in Tommy’s head before he plummeted and proved his abuser right.

Thing is, Tommy has flown before. It’s been awhile, but he has, when he was younger, knew the wondrous taste of its joy. With L’Manburg he’d been careful to fly below the walls so he didn’t get shot down. And it wasn’t possible in Pogtopia. And then after…it just seemed pointless. And now he can’t at all, and the only reason he can find is because he doesn’t deserve that joy.

Unless it was taken from him. Just like everything else, Tommy finally admits. Wearing an avian’s feathers is meant to be a promise to support them as surely as their own wings, and yet his abuser clipped his. 

It’s hard, realizing he was only ever so weak because the man he trusted was sabotaging him the whole time. Twisting his instincts, forcing him to become a useless hatchling. Manipulating him so he could never fly to safety.

Tommy begins to sob.

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