#it was just going to be an image but I decided to be a little bit crazy with it instead

[wildfloweroutlaw]

Sticky Fingers

warnings: SMUT!! minors dni. some fluff. friends to lovers. switch!azriel. unprotected sex. oral (male and female receiving). underwear fetish. a bit of voyeurism. azriel is an after care king. wing play. shadow play. i really threw the kitchen sink at this one so lmk if i missed anything!

word count: ~7k WHOOPS my fingers slipped.

a/n: reader matches azriel’s freak!! this is more fleshed out continuation of this little piece AND my first ever azriel fic. for the sake of this story, let’s just assume that you can winnow to The House of Wind because let’s be fr, only being able to fly or walk up the 10,000 steps would be such an inconvenience. and to the one person who asked for this @darkbloodsly …. thank you ❤️

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Azriel’s little escapade in your bedroom a few weeks ago had been one of the most exciting things he’d done in quite some time. It was also one of the most violating. After he had returned to his room with your obscenely tiny pair of panties, he had been filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Shame. Guilt. Self loathing. But underneath all of that, the desire remained, unchecked and unbound.

Which is probably why every couple of days since that incident, he found himself staking out your room, waiting on you to leave The House so he could go in and rummage through your underwear drawer freely. He found that you had acquired a very intriguing collection. Several lacy black pairs, a pair that was a deep red and made of the softest silk, a strappy blue pair that he felt perfectly matched his siphons.

He couldn’t help but to let his mind run rampant, picturing you in every single one, picturing himself pulling them off of you. However, today’s discovery may have just been his most favorite of all.

Unsure of how he missed them all the times before, Azriel’s eyes caught on a light shade of pink. Digging to the very bottom of the drawer, he grasped the lovely material and pulled it free.

While not as daring or extravagant as some of the other items in your trove, this pair was sinfully soft and seemed so unlike anything you would normally wear. Instantly taken with the dainty pink shade and the tiny little bow adorning the front, Azriel decided that these would be his prize of the day.

Pocketing the skimpy undergarment, he sent several of his shadows through the house to ensure you were still out running errands. When they reported that the coast was clear, Azriel silently made his way down the hall and back to his own quarters.

A sick thrill went through his body and curled low in his stomach as he closed the door behind him. He pulled your lovely pink panties out of his pocket and studied them once more. Gods he should not be as turned on as he was by a pair of fucking underwear, but they were yours and they had touched you more intimately than he knew he ever would, no matter how often he dreamed of that.

Typically, Azriel held off on this part until it was late at night and everyone had already gone to sleep… but The House was empty for the next few hours and his cock was already painfully straining against his pants.

Fuck it. Pushing off the door, he made quick work of his clothes as he crossed the room to his large bed.

Laying back against his dark, plush pillows, Azriel made himself comfortable, tuning everything in the world out except for the thought of you and these godsdamned panties.

He palmed himself gently at first, the head of his cock already flushed and leaking with anticipation.

He imagined what your hands would feel like against him, how big he would look in your smaller hands, how you would stroke him. Would you prefer to pleasure him soft and tenderly? Or would you set a punishing pace with a tight grip? Azriel knew that he would let you touch him anyway you wanted to, he would let you do anything you wanted to him.

He let depraved images of all kinds fill his mind. He let himself imagine what your soft skin would feel like under his touch, let himself imagine what beautiful sounds he could pull from you. Azriel knew it was unlikely he would ever truly know, considering he had never allowed himself to openly pursue you. However, he supposed he would settle for your panties.

Finding the delicate fabric beside him on the bed, he brought the soft material that carried your sweet scent to his aching member. He shuddered at the first touch and let out a deep groan at the sensation. Several of his shadows trailed down his body, the cool sensation only adding to his pleasure. They always got rather excited when he used your undergarments in this way.

Seeing your panties against him like this always brought about a feeling of wrongness that only served to turn Azriel on even more. Now, watching the pink cloth and that fucking little bow caress his cock, he was fairly certain this could count as a sin.

And damn if that didn’t make his blood pump all the faster.

Fisting your panties against his cock, Azriel let his head fall back, soft black curls splaying upon his pillow. He allowed his mind continue to run wild with thoughts of you, deep guttural groans and soft moans of your name slipping from his lips.

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You opened the front door to The House, finding the place quiet. Which made sense considering Cassian had matters to tend to in Illyria this evening, and you were supposed to meet Nesta for dinner in just a little while. Azriel most likely had plans of his own that he almost never felt inclined to share.

You had been out running errands for the last few hours, but the evening had proved to be chillier than you anticipated. You decided to just run home and grab a sweater, assuming you would probably be out late with Nesta. Kicking off your shoes by the door, you made for the stairs.

As soon as you rounded the corner to your hallway, you were greeted by several of Azriel’s shadows.

Suppose he is here then.

The wispy tendrils wrapped themselves around you and begin to gently tug you down the hall. Confused but curious, you followed along hesitantly.

“Is everything okay?” You knew you would never get a response, but you always had a habit of speaking to Azriel’s shadows. You were actually very fond of them.

Several of the shadows trailed up your arms and twined into your hair. Apparently they had grown fond of you as well. The feeling of them against your skin was always something you enjoyed, and you found their presence to be very comforting.

You allowed them to lead you past your own bedroom door and down the hall to Az’s room. You found a few more shadows waiting outside, and they too greeted you warmly. Tugging you forward, the shadows continued to urge you towards the door. “I-I don’t understand…” you whispered to the wisps of darkness.

“(Y/N).”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and for a moment you questioned if you were hearing things. But you had heard your name, however faint. You were certain of it.

You raised your hand to knock on the door, not wanting to just barge in to Azriel’s room, even if he had presumably called out to you.

Before your fist could make contact with the wood, some of the shadows darted out, turning the knob and silently pushing the door open. You were certain your heart stopped beating as you took in the sight in front of you.

Azriel. With his head tossed back. Face dusted with pink. Large wings splayed across his bed, eyes screwed shut, plump lips parted, legs spread wide, tendrils of shadows trailing down his body.

And he was stark naked.

Oh gods. You should walk away. You should close the door and pretend you never even came home. But by the mother, he was pumping himself with his hand, hips bucking up in response, and you couldn’t help but drink in the beautiful sight and the lovely sounds tumbling from his lips.

This was wrong. You should not be here. You weren’t sure why his shadows had pulled you to his room, but Azriel’s lack of awareness of your presence made it clear this was not intended. And the longer you stood here, watching like a fucking pervert, the stronger the pulsing between your legs grew.

Suddenly your eyes caught on a piece of pink fabric clutched against Azriel’s… well, extremely large member. You quickly took note of the familiar tiny bow peaking out from his hand and you thought your heart was going to break free from your ribcage and leave you standing here like the fool that you were.

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Azriel was lost in his darkest fantasies. He wasn’t sure if it was the long week he had, or the way you had looked in that dress that fit you just right before you had left The House this afternoon, but he just completely gave himself to the pleasure.

And gods he could smell you, stronger than any other time before. Your lovely scent entrapped within the fabric of your panties seemed thicker, sweeter… headier.

Azriel’s eyes flew open, shooting to the other side of the room and he saw you, standing there. Face tinged with red, eyes wide, and chest heaving against your dress.

And he wanted to die.

With an unspoken command, the mass of his shadows flocked to him, some of them unfurling themselves from where they had been twinning around you, and came to conceal his naked form. of course he had left his clothes halfway across the room.

He pushed himself up off the bed and felt heat crawling up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He literally could not imagine a worse scenario than this.

Fuck, you would probably hate him after this. This would ruin your friendship for sure. You would want to move out of The House, far far away from him and his demented perversions. Azriel’s mind, once filled with glorious images of you, was now flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts. And none of them were good.

“(Y/N) I-I can explain-“ Azriel managed to stammer out. How could he explain this? He doubted there was any excuse he could come up with that wouldn’t make him look creepy. Maybe you hadn’t seen the panties? He could perhaps say they weren’t yours, even if you had seen, but he wasn’t sure how long you had been standing there.

“Those are mine.” You simply stated, as if you were telling him the sky was blue.

“I…. Well, I-“ gods be damned, this would be a good time to be able to form a cohesive thought. But his racing heart and overwhelming mortification were short circuiting his brain.

“And you said my name.” You took a step forward into the doorway. Azriel’s shadows were obscuring the majority of his body, and at your words, they seemed to grow all the more restless.

Azriel briefly considered winnowing out of his room and fleeing Velaris- No, Prythian. “(Y/N) I am so sorry, shit, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry. I-I know this is so wrong-“

You took another step forward. Well, you were already knee deep in this horrifically embarassing situation, for both of you it seemed. You may as well see where this takes you. “You can continue… if you are comfortable doing so, that is.”

Azriel’s heart stopped beating for probably the hundredth time in the last 5 minutes. “I… what?” His hazel eyes scanned your face for any sign of mockery or judgment or disgust.

“I was enjoying the show. Quite thoroughly, I must admit.” Your heart was thundering, and you were terrified of what Azriel might think. But you felt the overwhelming need to own up to invading his privacy, to watching him. To take control of this situation.

And he had very clearly been thinking of you… “If you are alright with it, you can carry on. Don’t feel like you must though. I can also leave if you’d like.” You motioned behind you to the door.

“You… aren’t angry with me?” Azriel’s shadows dissipated slightly, now he was visible to you from the chest up.

“Do I seem angry to you?” You asked, managing a smirk that you hoped made you look braver than you truly felt.

Azriel allowed himself to take you in fully now. You had been shocked, yes, but there was also something else dancing in your eyes. And your scent was slightly different than usual. He took a deep breath in, mind going quiet. You were aroused. “No. I suppose you don’t seem angry.”

Azriel allowed his shadows to slowly leave him, some of them choosing to return to you. A chill ran down his spine as he watched your eyes drink in his bare form.

He took a couple steps backward until he could rest on the edge of the bed.

He searched your face again, wanting to ensure that this was really alright with you. Finding no signs of discomfort, he plucked the dainty undergarment from the bedspread and began to tentatively work the material against his still hard cock. “Is this… what you wanted to see?”

Your chest began to rise and fall quickly again and you sucked in a breath at the sight of him. “Yes…” you sighed out, fingers going to the clasp of your dress at your neck. You quickly undid the mechanism and let the material fall and pool at your bare feet.

Azriel’s eyes widened and he let out a soft moan at the beautiful sight. You weren’t wearing a bra and stood before him in only your underwear, the tiny, lacey black pair that had originally caught his eye the very first time he thieved from your chambers.

What in the seven hells was happening? He decided not to question it, tightening his grip on his member and began to stroke more confidently.

Your eyes were glued to him, wandering from his proud wings, across his gorgeous face, down his heavily tattooed chest and muscled stomach, all the way to his scarred hand fisting your fucking panties against himself.

You had desired Azriel for so long, but he never pursued you beyond friendship. The male was notoriously difficult to read, and you were always too afraid to go beyond simply flirting with him in case he truly wasn’t interested in you. You never in your wildest dreams could have imagined this.

You took a few more steps forward, brushing your fingers against the erect tips of your breasts, sighing at the sensation. The pounding between your legs had amplified to an all out ache, and you were more than eager to find out just how far Azriel would let this go.

You now stood before him, between his spread legs, eyes locked to his hazel ones. You brushed back a stray lock of his dark hair, and lightly ran your fingers across his flushed cheek. “Do you enjoy pleasuring yourself with my panties Shadowsinger?” You let your eyes drift back down to where he worked himself.

Azriel was reveling in your sweet touches and felt there was no reason to attempt to deny the claim now. “Yes.” He groaned.

You felt a sudden surge of power, his words stroking your ego like his hand stroked his cock. “And is this the first time you’ve stolen a pair from my room for this purpose?”

Azriel tried to avert his eyes, still feeling ashamed of his actions, but your hand gripped his chin and turned his gaze up to meet yours. If his senses weren’t currently being overwhelmed with the scent of your arousal and you weren’t staring down at him like you wanted to devour him, he would have thought this was some cruel attempt to get him to confess. “No.” He answered honestly.

You smirked at his admittance and you could feel your panties growing more soaked by the second. You dropped to your knees before him and you could not deny that he looked like a god above you. He was absolutely divine. And your face was a mere foot from his cock. This was not at all how you had expected your evening to go, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

You took in the sight of his swollen tip, shaded an angry color of red from lack of release. His pre-cum had soaked both his member and the fabric of your panties, leaving him glistening in the evening light

“Fuck, you are so hard.”

Azriel moaned in response, as he watched you with curious eyes. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he loved that you were here with him, and seemed to be just as turned on as he was.

You inched your face a little closer, leaning between his thick thighs. “Oh Azzie, this seems rather uncomfortable. Would you allow me to help you?” You crooned as you looked up at him through your lashes.

Azriel felt like he could die happily any moment now. That nickname and the image of you, between his legs, staring up at him like that, was something that would stick with him long past the grave. However, a thousand protests rose to his mind.

He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do this. He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to, that you shouldn’t, because he was unworthy of your touch. But he stopped himself.

Everything told him that you wanted this too, wanted him. As hard as it was to believe, he did not think you would be here, responding so… positively, if you didn’t want to. However unworthy he felt that he was, he felt the desire to be selfish more.

He had dreamed of this for so long, and now the opportunity to have you, in whatever capacity, finally has arisen. He would be damned if he didn’t seize it.

“Yes. Please.” He didn’t care if the plead sounded pathetic. He needed you to touch him. Now.

With a grin that could only be described as devilish, you gently grasped his wrist, urging his hand away from his member. He still clutched the now spoiled pink panties in his hand. You tenderly pulled them from his grip, unbunching the material and letting it dangle in the space between you two.

You studied the damp fabric, glancing between it and Azriel’s face. “You’ve made such a pretty mess of these Az. I can tell how much you like them.”

Beyond words and drowning in anticipation, Azriel could only muster a nod in response.

You tossed the underwear across the room to join your dress. Heart pounding in your chest, you slowly gripped Azriel’s cock. You tested the waters with a gentle, almost teasing stroke and you felt him throb in your hand. You quickly glanced up at his face to see if he was still okay with this.

You found him leaned back on his palms and studying you intently, eyes half lidded and filled with desire. The look of sheer need gave you a shot of courage, and you tightened your grip slightly and increased your pace.

Azriel moaned out your name and your core turned to molten at the sound.

“Does that feel good, Az?” You cooed to him, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there.

“Gods, yes (Y/N). Touch me however you like… please.” He could not stop staring at you, your gorgeous practically naked form, and how small your hand looked wrapped around him.

This was better than any fantasy he had ever conjured up.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth at his praise, loving how it sounded in his deep voice. “How about this?” You leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking gingerly.

Azriel short circuited, his entire body shuddering from the feel of your warm, wet mouth on him. He let his head loll back and his eyes flutter closed as a guttural groan reverberated from deep in his chest. “Fuck I- yes.” He gripped the blankets beneath him.

You hummed against him in response. You always felt that Azriel was too hard on himself, punishing himself for gods knew why. You were determined to spoil him with much deserved pleasure.

You licked him from root to stem before taking him deep, one hand working what you could not fit in your mouth, and the other gently caressing his balls.

Sounds that may have been considered embarrassing to some males, spewed from Azriel. He could not help it, nor did he care to hide them. You were making him feel this good and you deserved to hear that. “Sweet girl, shit- that feels incredible.” He growled.

As you continued your ministrations, Azriel worked a hand into your hair. Not forcing your head down, or applying any pressure, just reverently caressing your locks. He finally peered down at you again, discovering you staring back up at him, head bobbing up and down his length and moaning around him. He noticed you had brought one of your hands between your legs and were grinding your clothed cunt against your palm.

You were going to kill him.

You were going to suck him within an inch of his life, and the sight of you touching yourself to pleasuring him was going to send him on to the after life.

Just as Azriel was about to pull you off of him, you released his cock with a pop of your lips. You stood then, placing your hands on Azriel’s firm chest and urging him backwards. “Lay in the center of the bed for me please, Azzie.” You asked sweetly.

Azriel nodded and found himself scrambling backwards, doing as you said and moving to lay back. Azriel rarely ever relinquished control in the bedroom, preferring to service his lovers to their liking. However, he felt very comfortable following your lead and this was actually really lovely. Well, it was far beyond lovely.

You moved to hover over him, straddling his waist and you felt a thrill surge through your body at the sight of the massive Illyrian warrior beneath you. “Is it alright if I try something else?” You asked, still unsure about how much Azriel wanted from you.

He gingerly grasped your hand, one of the first few touches he had allowed himself since this all began, and guided it to his chest where he pinned it beneath his own larger hand. “Of course,” he rasped, “I told you already. Touch me however you like… I am yours.” The admission was vulnerable, but felt so right to him.

Your heart clenched at his words and you nodded, lowering your hips to his. You began to slowly, but firmly grind your still clothed pussy against his length, loosing an airy moan in response to the glorious contact.

“I bet my panties feel much better like this, hm?” You leaned down to murmur in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

Azriel shuddered underneath you, wings twitching against the sheets. “Y-yes, (Y/N). So much better.” His hands hesitantly reached up to grip your waist, giving you time to protest if you wanted. When you showed no objections, he tightened his hold on you and pulled you down against him, harder. Azriel delighted in the noise he drew from you.

He continued dragging your hips across him, both of you breathless at the sensation. “Gods above, you are so gorgeous…” He let one hand travel up to your breast, stroking a thumb across a hard nipple and smiling to himself when you cried out.

“Would you like to see what you’ve done to me?” You breathed against his neck, a hand tracing circles against his chest.

Azriel nodded, then almost protested when you pulled away from him. That was until he saw you standing at the end of the bed, slowly shimmying out of your panties. His breath hitched to see you completely and utterly bare before him, then sputtered out of him when he took in the way you crawled up the bed towards him.

Kneeling beside him, you pressed the soaked cotton of your underwear into Azriel’s hand. “You’ve turned me into a complete mess Az…” you confessed.

Azriel took in the absolutely drenched material, and let out an almost animalistic groan when he scented your arousal coating the fabric. “All of this is for me? I’ve barely gotten the chance to touch you yet.” He would be lying if he said that wasn’t a major boost to his ego.

He slipped an arm around your waist and turned, pinning you beneath him and slotting himself between your legs. “Let me change that…”

He pressed messy kisses along the length of your neck, sharp teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive area. Azriel reveled in the sound of your breathless moan and the way you pulled him tighter.

He dipped his head to lav at a nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger before latching his lips around the sensitive bud. Azriel slid a well muscled thigh against your leaking cunt, applying just enough pressure to have you gasping for air.

He did not miss how you rocked your hips against him, desperate for friction.

Thus far, Azriel had allowed you to take the lead, to show him how much you wanted from him, making him feel better than anyone ever had before. Now, Azriel wanted to return the favor and show you how good he can make you feel.

He kissed a path between your breasts and down your stomach, glancing up to find your bottom lip between your teeth and eyes pressed closed. He worked his way lower, and lower, until all he could smell was your heated sweetness.

He inhaled deeply, and let out a long breath that fanned against your sensitive cunt, causing chills to erupt all over your body.

Guiding each of your legs over his shoulders, his hands found purchase on your thighs, spreading you open for him. He placed a couple of gentle nips along the inside of your thigh, before softly asking “Is this alright?”

“Yes. Gods, yes.” You excitedly nodded your head, as if you took too long to answer he may change his mind. Although, a quick glance down at Azriel’s face told you that wasn’t the case. He stared up at you like you were his favorite meal. You lifted your hips slightly, urging yourself closer to his mouth.

He huffed a laugh before pinning you back down to the bed. “Try to stay still for me, sweet girl. Want to make you feel good.” And then his tongue was upon you. He licked a strip right up your center, expertly locating the sensitive bundle of nerves and swirling around it.

White hot pleasure shot up your spine, and you cried out. Hands searching for more contact, you reached down and entangled your fingers in his dark locks, Azriel rewarding you with a low growl when you pulled slightly.

His mouth was maddening. It was like he already knew all of your favorite things as he stroked your clit with the warm velvet of his tongue. Every time you managed to crack your eyes open, you found hazel ones staring back at you, full of hunger and reverence. He kept your hips throughly pinned down, leaving you no choice but to take everything he was giving you.

Suddenly, you felt a cool brush against your collar bone and looked down to find several of his shadows curiously exploring you. The inky tendrils wound themselves around your nipples, the ghost of a touch just enough to drive you crazy, just as Azriel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Every thought in your head ceased to exist and your back arched away from the sheets. A wanton scream tore its way up your throat and you fisted Azriel’s hair tightly, which only seemed to spur him on more.

“Fuck Azriel, there- yes!” You babbled as his grip on your hips loosened slightly, allowing you to wind your hips against his mouth. And mother above he was moaning into your pussy and… oh gods.

You raised your head and watched him unabashedly rut into the mattress, just as needy as you were.

And that was nearly your breaking point. Seeing this beautiful male, wings spread behind him, letting you fuck yourself on his face, shadows twining around your body. You were not like to forget this as long as you lived.

Right as you teetered on the edge of oblivion, you pulled him off of you quickly. “Azriel… need you. Want to cum on your cock. Please.”

“As you wish.” Azriel rose slowly, chin glistening with your slick, and placed his aching cock where his face had just been.

He leaned down and studied your pretty face intently, sliding one scarred hand to your jaw. He then pressed his lips against yours, the kiss searing his very soul.

This was the first time his lips had ever touched yours, other than that one drunken night when you all had played spin the bottle. Although that kiss had kept him up for many nights, it was nothing like this.

“Can you taste yourself? Can you taste how sweet you are? Could spend an eternity with my face between those beautiful legs…” Az mumbled against you.

“Y-yes. I want you to show me more of what you can do with that mouth another time.” You grinned up at him.

Another time. His heart leapt at that. Azriel had not allowed himself to think past this moment, for fear that this could be the first and only time he experienced you this way. Yes, he could show you everything he knew and more.

Grabbing the base of his cock, he lined himself up with your entrance, and pressed his forehead against yours. He ever so slightly began to push in. You were soaking wet, but you were also extremely tight and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

The stretch burned, but not in a way that was painful, just uncomfortable. Holy gods he was huge. You felt his shadows run up and down your arms in a soothing caress, Azriel’s hand at your waist mimicking their motions.

Once his hips were flush with yours, you both sat utterly still, chests heaving against each other. Azriel fought back the urge to thrust as he allowed your body to adjust to his size. “Are you alright, Princess?” He cooed, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Yes… Azzie. Please.” You began to squirm underneath him, unable to patiently wait any longer.

“I know, sweet girl. I just don’t want to hurt you.” He brushed a loose strand of hair back that had fallen into your face.

“I appreciate your concern Azriel, but I will die if you don’t move. I need you to move.” You pleaded, fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

Without another moment of hesitation, Azriel slowly drew out of you before pressing back in to the hilt. He had never, never, felt anything as good as this before. He knew that with just the first fucking stroke, he was losing himself to you

“Fucking hells (Y/N). You’re so godsdamned tight… feel so good on my cock sweet girl.”

You cried out at both the sensation and his words, any feelings of discomfort giving way to burning hot pleasure as Azriel fucked you slow and deep. The normally stoic and reserved Shadowsinger was passionate, shocking you with how intently and thoroughly he was loving you.

Azriel angled his hips, rutting in to you at a slightly faster pace now. He buried his face deep into your neck, panting and moaning like he was young male all over again. He was trying his best to fuck you the way you deserved, but it was already so difficult to not unravel completely.

“Azriel…” you moaned his name like it was a prayer, “gods you’re so big… stretching me out just right. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.” You pulled his face to yours for another searing kiss, carding your fingers through his soft hair.

Azriel was genuinely surprised that you had thought about this with him, and the confession only turned him on more. He sped up his pace more, pulling back slightly to watch you.

And you stared back at him. You took in the massive wings looming behind Azriel, noticing how they twitched every so often, like they were restless. You remembered one drunken night that Azriel had admitted to you that the rumors about Illyrian wings were in fact true, but that he very rarely felt comfortable enough to allow his lovers to actually touch them.

You wanted so badly to run your fingers down the beautiful membrane. Not only to see his reaction for yourself, but also because you wanted to feel special to him.

Maybe that was foolish, and maybe this whole situation was no more than a manifestation of your shared physical attraction and nothing more. But you could not stop yourself from wanting. “Az… may I touch your wings?” You asked nervously, afraid to ruin the moment.

Azriel drove home a particularly deep stroke, causing you to cry out and tremble around him. His hand came up to guide your eyes to his, and his stare was molten. “I’ve already told you baby, touch me however you like.”

Your heart squeezed at the fact that he felt safe enough with you to allow you to touch him in a way he rarely let others.

You nodded, taking in his words through the haze of pleasure. You reached out slowly, fingertips just inches from his wings. “H-how?” Your hand remained hovering in the air, unsure.

He huffed a laugh that turned into a groan as his hips met yours. “However feels natural to you. There’s no wrong way, just be gentle.” He extended a wing, offering you better access.

You searched his face for any signs of discomfort or hesitancy. Finding none, you simply nodded and ever so lightly grazed your finger tips across the ridge of his wing.

Azriel’s entire body went taught as a bowstring before he shook, the most delectable whimper working its way out of him. His fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs and began to draw quick, tight circles against it.

You were certain the entirety of Velaris could hear your sounds of pleasure now. You placed another exploratory stroke on a different part of his wing, and continued when you saw the way Azriel’s eyes screwed shut and his brow furrowed.

“If you keep doing that you are going to make me-“ Azriel was interrupted when the soft pads of your fingers rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot.

His hips faltered, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he went careening over the edge and into the abyss of ecstasy, crying out your name and hips snapping against yours.

At the feel of his fingers against your clit, his shadows caressing your body, and his warm seed pumping deep inside you, you came completely undone on his cock. Consumed by burning pleasure, all thoughts eddied out of your brain except for Azriel.

For several moments the two of you remained there, chests heaving against each other, both attempting to unscramble your minds. Azriel eventually pulled out rather reluctantly. “Sit tight.” He murmured against your heated skin, before disappearing from sight.

Minutes later, Azriel reappeared with a wet rag in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other. He set the glass on the table before turning back to you, using the rag to clean you up. “Are you alright?” His eyes flickered between your face and his hands.

You nodded, a grin blooming on your face. “I think I’m more than alright Az. Are you alright?” You parroted his question back to him.

“Yeah. Yes. I am… maybe a little surprised that we somehow ended up here, but I’m glad that we did.” He offered you a grin to match your own that showed his dimples.

His hand found your back, helping you to sit up, and he situated you against the mountain of pillows on his bed before handing you the glass of water. “Here. Drink.”

You accepted the refreshing drink greedily, drinking about half the glass in just a few gulps. Offering the drink back to Azriel, you cleared your throat. “I myself am surprised as well. This was… not really what I expected of my evening. Or ever honestly.” You gave a small shrug.

Azriel settled in beside you, pulling the fluffy duvet up to cover you both. “(Y/N) I do really need to apologize for what I did-what I’ve been doing…” he studied his lap intently, suddenly finding the bed spread mighty interesting.

“It was wrong. Very wrong. I shouldn’t have entered your room without your permission, let alone rummage through your dresser and…” he trailed off, feeling red hot shame creep up his neck.

“And steal my underwear?” You finished for him, brows raising in amusement.

“Yes. That. It was an extreme invasion of your privacy, and wrong on so many levels. If you never want to speak of this again, or never want to speak to me again… I would understand.” Azriel could not bring himself to look at you, to see what you might be feeling.

You gripped his jaw, guiding his gaze back to you. “Az… I told you already, I’m not angry with you. I felt like I proved that rather thoroughly, but I will say it again. You are my friend Azriel. None of this changes that fact. If you are open to it, I’d actually like to do more of… this.” You motioned between the two of you and gave him a big smile.

“I-I am definitely open to it. I would like that very much. I guess you could say I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while now…” Azriel glanced at you with heated cheeks and a dimple peeking out as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You let out a breathless laugh, the sound making Azriel’s heart jump in his chest. “Well I guess I can now admit that the feeling is mutual.” You snuggled down into the pillows further, cherishing the warmth of his body next to yours.

Azriel turned to you, propping his head up on a fist. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I was actually supposed to meet Nesta for dinner.” You glanced to the window in Azriel’s room, noticing that the sun had already slipped below the ridge. “She is probably pissed I stood her up, but there’s no sense in going now… and I’d like to stay with you.”

Azriel grinned at you then. “Well perhaps you would consider sharing a meal with me? We can stay here if you want.”

You agreed eagerly and Azriel offered you one of his large, but incredibly soft shirts to wear even though your room was just down the hall. You cherished the feel of the material against your otherwise naked body, his scent surrounding you, the shirt reaching your knees. It made you feel special.

Azriel had the house whip you up your favorite foods and the two of you stayed in his room for the remainder of the evening, chatting and swapping stories as usual. However things definitely felt…. different between the two of you. But in a good way. In the best way.

You must have dozed off eventually, because you awoke to the early morning sun spilling in through Azriel’s parted curtains. You quickly realized that Azriel himself was curled around you, one arm slung over your waist and your back pressed to his chest.

Feeling you stir, he mumbled a groggy good morning, voice rough with sleep. You would be lying if you said the sound didn’t send heat straight to your core all over again.

You turned in his grip to face him, “good morning…” you brushed a couple of your wild strands of hair back from your face and cleared your throat. “I’m sorry if I have over stayed my welcome. I didn’t intend to fall asleep here last night.” You studied his face for any sign of annoyance.

One side of his lips tipped up in a lazy grin, revealing a dimple. “Nonsense. I’ve enjoyed your company... even if you did snore.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, face growing hot. “I do not snore Azriel! I think I would know if I did.” You protested, brow furrowing.

Azriel’s grin only grew, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “And how would you know that?”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints about it before.” You explained, praying to the gods that you actually didn’t snore the very first night you ever spent in Azriel’s bed.

Tracing lazy circles on your side, Azriel’s eyes perused your form. You looked so beautiful wrapped in his huge shirt, blankets pulled up over your hips, hair askew in a thousand different directions.

“Perhaps they were just too polite to mention it?” His gaze flicked back up to yours, unable to hide his full on smile at your flustered responses to his teasing.

“You could have done me the same courtesy, asshole.” You shoved his bare chest playfully causing a laugh to spill from Azriel’s lips. Despite what happened yesterday, things felt… comfortable.

You reluctantly untangled yourself from his arms, sitting up to stretch. “I better go inform Nesta that I’m still alive. She’s probably assuming someone kidnapped me last night.”

“I pity the person who would try to kidnap you.” Azriel placed an arm behind his head, watching you shuffle out of the bed, secretly wishing you would stay longer.

You snorted. “True. I also better find a peace offering to give her as well, as an apology for flaking on our dinner date.” You turned to Azriel then, drinking in the sight of him sprawled on his back, blankets pooling around his waist, tattoos swirling down his bare chest and arms. Gods, he was delectable and you wanted to jump his bones all over again.

Azriel was staring at you as well, admiring the length of your bare legs and how his shirt hung down to almost your knees. A surge of male satisfaction flowed through him at the sight. “I think that’s a good idea. I apologize for ruining your plans.” Azriel wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

You gave him another big smile, something you found happening very frequently when he was around. “You can ruin my plans anytime you’d like Shadowsinger.” You began gathering your belongings, preparing to make the trek down the hall to your own quarters. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Azriel nodded. “Anytime you’d like.” He parroted your earlier words back to you.

You bid Azriel goodbye and began making your way out the door, your pile of clothes filing your arms, when you heard Az call out your name.

Turning back towards him, you found him holding up your lacy black panties from yesterday, a smirk plastered on his face. “I think you’re forgetting these.”

You gave a one shouldered shrug, one corner of your lips curling to match Azriel’s. “You can just hang on to those for me.” Watching his eyes widen, you closed the door behind you, smiling all the way down the hall to your own room, and already counting down the seconds until you could see the Shadowsinger again.

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EEEEK i had SO much fun writing this!! feel free to let me know what you liked, i always appreciate feedback 🫶🏼.

[codnasties]

141 mechanic shop. 👻🧼🧢🚬 (🌽 link)

your car breaks down in a town in the middle of nowhere and it needs fixing asap so you can resume your trip. good thing that the closes town has a trusty mechanic shop ;)

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price 🚬- the tow truck driver

price is the tow truck driver, responding to a call about a car that suddenly stopper running in the middle of a highway. much to his surprise, when he pulls up on site, he sees you. pretty little thing, distressed about the state of your car. he doesn't know what it is - maybe loneliness hitting him, the tears in your eyes or your sweet body and face - but it awakes something in him.

he's unable to keep his eyes out of your body, soft legs shining under the blazzing summer sum, as he's winching your car onto the truck. he find himself oogling a bit too much and too hard for it to be considered genletmanly. the minutes spent driving, your delightful perfume filling the space, taking you to the shop, he had to figh the urge of touching you. hands tingling with need to see if your sking is as soft as it looks - and also get to know if that pussy is as delicious as he's imaging -. but he won't do that.

he will settle for a cheeky wank in a hidden part of the parking lot in the shop, his hand running up and down his aching cock at a fast speed at the thought of a body that won't be leaving his mind any time soon.

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ghost 👻- the mechanic

ghost in one of the two mechanics the shop has. while soap is working on fixing your car as fast as he can so you can resume your journey, ghost sees your tear-streaked face and decides to chat you up, offer you some kind of comfort - or at the very least, a way of getting your mind away from your problem and how hard it's going to hit your finances -.

but with a man this hot - and mysterious, rugged and slighty dirty -, simple chatting soon turns into flirting, subtle touches to get closer to him and feel how hard are those muscles hiddind under his clothes. one thing leads to another and then this scary man ends up fucking you. making you take a seat in one of the stools they have in the shop, you ass pushed out to give him aceess to your needy holes. his cock deep inside your ass as your car gets fixed. plucked hole stretched around the leaking mess his thick cock is. the moans he's pulling out of you reverberating all over the shop. and the way he's going to make sure to fill your ass nicely with his cum, just a little souvenir so you remember him ;)

if you ask me, i would say this is peak customer service, and the perfect way of keeping the customer happy and entertained

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soap 🧼- the other mechanic

soap in the other mechanic, the one actually doing his job and working on your car - no shade being thrown here -. but when some pretty lasses' sweet sounds reach his ears, he pushed himself from underneath the car only to get the perfect view of you, getting fucked by ghost. tits on full display for him, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back with each and every one of simon's thrusts.

just from your whines and moans he was already half chubbed up, but that view did it for him. he couldn't stop his cock from getting fully hard. he already didn't have a shirt on - blame it on the heat or this man loving to show off -, so it was easy to pull his pants off in one swift motion - no underpants, very on brand -. his dick hitting his stomach as it gets feed from it confines. he's supposed to be working in fixing your car but god... can't concentrate with a boner, can't he? his hand, covered in grease, wrapping around his meaty shaft, slowly stoking up and down, rubbing one out until he cums all over himself to you getting your ass fucked.

he really wished it was his cock fucking you, or that he could step in and join ghost, but he knows if he does that he's either going to get reprimanded or hit for interrumptng

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gaz 🧢- the admin

gaz is the admin, he does all the paperwork. he was the one that picked up the call, heard you though your stressed out half sobbed words and reassured you that whatever was going on with your car could be fixed. he's also the last one you get to interact with in the shop, becasue he sorts out your documents and the one you have to pay an obnoxiously high price to for the work done on your car.

good thing that this pretty admin guy, clad in some dress pants and a shirt that pulled taut around his bulging arms, is willing to bargain with you, finding a way to lower your price - or even going as far as paying for you, since you've been such a good motivation to all the shop workers -. but getting rid of your little debt to them does not mean he's doind it for free. maybe a little hand with the problem that boner in his slacks is. he's been watching the havoc you've been causing on the floor though the security cameras. can't blame him. your puffy lips from trying to bite back your moans earliers now enveloping his mushroom tip.

but he's a hungry fucker, so just your mouth isn't enough. so why not let him have a taste of that neglected soaking wet pussy, dripping with both your own arousal and ghost's cum that keeps uncontrolably dripping out?

[loulou-land]

5 Times Buck Realized He Could Be Clingy + 1 Time Tommy was the Clingy One

Day 4 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Clingy Boyfriends | 4,076 words

(1) Before a Shift

Mornings like these were always the hardest for Buck. 

After days spent together—wrapped up in each other, tucked away from the world—it was too easy to get used to having Tommy there. Waking up beside him, getting to roll over to steal lazy kisses, lingering in bed until the sun had well and truly come up. Then, moving to the kitchen, sharing warm coffee, leaning into each other's spaces as they made breakfast, coming up with half-baked plans for the day that they may or may not follow through on. 

Buck had done a bit of the domesticity thing with Taylor, but it wasn’t anywhere close to what this was. He had never felt as comfortable as he did with Tommy.  And the most incredible part? How seamlessly they had fallen into it, without a second thought. 

But eventually, reality came knocking. 

And Buck hated it. 

The soft glow of their cozy bubble would be ripped away by ringing alarms and the harsh reality of shifts that wouldn't align for a while. And today, it was Tommy’s turn to leave for a shift while Buck still had the rest of the day off. 

Buck tried to be normal about it. He really did. 

Continue Reading Below or on ao3

He'd stayed curled up in bed, watching as Tommy moved through his morning routine—brushing his teeth while Buck sleepily watched from the pillow; buttoning up his uniform with practiced ease, Buck following the movement of his hands spellbound; sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots, just within his reach. 

Okay, time to be cool. Rein it in, Buck thought. Wish him a good day and go back to sleep. 

Instead, before Tommy could make a move to stand, Buck latched on. 

Nothing dramatic—just a small tug at the fabric of Tommy’s shirt—just enough to stall him. 

Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh, and Buck immediately backtracked. 

“ Sorry ,” Buck laughed, sheepish. “Just…fixing your shirt. All good now.” 

It was pathetic, but his fingers still didn’t let go. 

Tommy hummed, turning slightly, looking at him consideringly. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

And Buck…he definitely should've let go by now. He didn't want to make Tommy late. Instead, his finger tightened in the fabric, just slightly. 

Tommy noticed. He always noticed. 

But he didn't call him out on his dramatics. Didn't tease him. He just reached down, cupped the side of Buck’s face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, right over his birthmark. 

“I'll text you between calls.” Tommy promised. 

Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing himself to nod. “ Be safe .” 

Tommy kissed him again, slower this time—lingering, reassuring—before heading for the door. 

A little while later, Buck decided to brave the day. He had barely finished pouring his coffee when his phone buzzed. 

8:55 am

Tommy: Lucy brought donuts today :) (attached image: Tommy biting into a glazed donut, blue eyes sparkling happily) 

Buck huffed out a startled laugh, shaking his head at his boyfriend's massive sweet tooth. 

Buck: Looks delicious. But not as delicious as the man holding it ;) 

Tommy: Evan…behave 😤 

And that was only the beginning. 

9:47am 

Tommy: you have competition, look at how adorable he is (attached image: a orange tabby stretched out on the concrete taking a nap) 

Buck: I’m more adorable tho 🥺 right?

Buck: Tommy?? 

Buck: right?!!

10:05 am

Buck: I just watched that new documentary on black holes.

Buck: Did you know a black hole could fit in your pocket? 🤯

Tommy: That must be why I’m always losing stuff after I’ve put them in my pockets…

Buck: dork 🙄

Tommy: only for you ❤️ 

10:58am

Tommy: I’m going to kill the newbie

Buck: why? 

Buck: please don’t. I need you here, not in jail. 

Tommy: he keeps using my coffee mug 😑

Buck: wow, brave man…

11:05 am

Buck: (attached image: Buck in front of the mirror, wearing form fitting workout clothes and smirking into the camera) 

Tommy: Baby 😍  

Tommy: You don’t play fair. But two can play this game

Tommy: (attached image: Tommy wearing aviator glasses, smiling smugly, sitting in the cockpit of the helicopter) 

Buck: …you win 🥵

They continued texting every moment they could throughout the day. Tommy telling him about an interesting call they'd gotten about a naked hiker stuck up in a tree, how he regretted asking the guy how it happened, how Lucy kept teasing him for texting so much and how he couldn’t wait to see him again.  

Buck loved it.

And somewhere in the back and forth of messages, Buck realized something. 

 Tommy really was unlike anyone he'd ever met. 

Because Tommy didn't just tolerate Buck’s need to share every thought, every feeling, every random little moment—he truly wanted it. 

(2) Holding Hands

Buck was a touchy person. 

But it wasn't something he'd ever really thought about—until he started dating tommy. 

Because now, whenever they were on a date, every time they were out together, Buck found himself hyper-aware of the way their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. The way Tommy’s warmth bled into him, a steady presence, grounding, there. 

Buck relished it. Enjoyed being close to Tommy. 

But what he really loved? 

Holding Tommy’s hand. 

There was something addicting about the feeling of it—calloused and strong, big enough to make Buck’s fingers feel almost small in comparison. It was ridiculous how much he liked that, how obsessed he was with the way his hand fit so perfectly in Tommy’s. 

It had been a revelation the first time it happened. They were walking through a farmer’s market on a lazy Sunday morning, sipping coffee and browsing fresh produce. Buck had been excitedly telling Tommy about the health benefits of squash while Tommy listened intently. It had been natural, the way Buck’s hand had found Tommy’s—automatic, easy, just right. 

And then he’d looked down at them. At their fingers interlaced together, Tommy’s grip was firm and warm. Confident and sure. 

Buck hadn't meant to stare at them, completely oblivious to the world around him. But he was amazed at how perfect it felt, like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place. Then Tommy squeezed his hand, and Buck had looked up—face flushing, embarrassed at being caught. 

Without a word, Tommy lifted their joined hands and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to Buck’s hand. 

Buck tripped. 

It was just a small misstep, but Tommy definitely spotted it. 

“You good, Evan?” Tommy said grinning. 

“Yeah. Totally. That wasn't—” Buck stammered, clearing his throat. “Just, uh, uneven pavement.” 

Tommy smirked. “Mhm,” 

Buck glared at him, but it was hard to look indignant when his heart was currently doing flips inside his chest. 

That moment had opened the floodgates.  

After that Buck would reach for Tommy’s hand without even thinking about it. His fingers sliding between Tommy’s, intertwining, squeezing just slightly. Holding on for as long as he could. 

If Tommy needed to open a door, reach for something or take out his wallet Buck would relinquish his hold for a few seconds before immediately latching on again. 

Tommy always smiled, a small little pleased thing. 

So Buck kept doing it. He reached for him when walking together. When they were waiting in line for coffee. In the car, driving to places. While out at the bar with their family and friends. At home, snuggling on the couch or laying in bed.  

And every time, Tommy let him. 

No teasing. No hesitation. 

Just a gentle squeeze back, like he never wanted to let go either. 

(3) After a Bad Call

Some shifts turned out bad.

Buck had accepted that a long time ago.

But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

It didn’t make it easier when a call went south, when a victim slipped away no matter how hard they tried. It didn’t make it easier when he could still hear the sounds of screaming or see the way that life slipped through his fingers.

It didn’t make it easier when the self-doubt crept in, making its home in him, when his chest tightened with the weight of it all, when the voices whispered in his ear—you should’ve done more, you should’ve been better, you should’ve saved them.

Sometimes, those voices sounded exactly like his parents.

Other times, it was just his own.

And on those nights, Buck needed something solid. He craved something warm. Something that told him he was still here. That he still mattered. 

But asking for comfort had never been easy for him. Especially when Buck felt like he didn’t deserve it. When he felt like he was making things once again all about himself. 

So when he walked through the door, carrying the weight of that night’s failure, he didn’t say anything.

Buck dropped his keys on the counter. Stood with his hands flat on it as he stared unseeing at the grainy dots of the countertop. Then he rubbed a hand over his face like that would somehow scrub the frustration off of him.

Buck tensed when he felt strong arms circle his waist and got pulled into a steady chest. He matched his breathing to Tommy’s and felt himself slowly relaxing and letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 

It helped that Tommy didn’t ask.

He just took one look at Buck and knew.

Knew what Buck needed, even if he couldn’t say it.

“C’mere .”

Buck didn’t even hesitate.

He turned around and let himself be pulled in, let himself be wrapped up in Tommy’s arms.

And for a while, he just stood there, breathing Tommy in, grounding himself in the warmth of his chest, not thinking about anything other than Tommy Tommy Tommy . 

Eventually, Tommy kissed his temple, then nudged him toward the bathroom.

“Hot shower first. Then I’ve got you.”

And Buck froze for a second, completely amazed at the concept that someone had him. 

After the shower, Buck found his favorite sweatpants and hoodie waiting for him. The ones that were soft and well-worn, the ones that felt safe. The ones he’d hide in when he was feeling particularly raw and bereft. His heart picked up speed at the thought that Tommy had picked up on that. Had remembered. 

There was a cup of soothing tea on the nightstand.

But most importantly?

There was Tommy.

Sitting on the bed, waiting with open arms, like he already knew exactly where Buck needed to be.

Buck didn’t fight it anymore. 

He climbed into bed, curled into Tommy’s chest, let himself feel it— the warmth, the comfort, the weight of arms holding him together when he felt like he was falling apart at the seams. 

Tommy didn’t say anything, just rubbed slow circles into his back, a steady touch that anchored him, that reminded him he was here.

At some point, Buck let the pain in him crack open.

He exhaled shakily, pressed his face into Tommy’s neck, wrapped his fingers in his shirt and let himself cry.

And Tommy just held him.

Didn’t judge him, didn’t rush him, didn’t tell him to pull himself together, didn’t make him feel any less for showing emotions, didn’t say it was fine because it wasn’t.

Tommy just held on tighter to Buck. 

And when Buck’s breathing evened out, when the exhaustion started creeping in, Tommy finally spoke—low, soft, certain.

“You did everything you could, baby.”

“You’re a damn good firefighter, Evan.”

“I’ve got you. I’m here.” 

And Buck—warm and safe, pressed against the only person who had ever made him feel like he could just be, that he didn’t have to hold it all in—let himself believe it.

(4) In Public

Buck had never really been big on PDA.

Not because he was uncomfortable with it—he just hadn’t really been the type. With past partners, he’d hold hands, drape an arm around their shoulder, maybe rest a hand on their lower back. A quick kiss on the cheeks or lips. But that was it. 

With Tommy, it was different. He just— wanted. All the time.  

It was like some switch had flipped in his brain. Like his body just instinctively sought Tommy out. Tommy was Earth, and Buck was his moon, caught in his orbit. 

He couldn’t help it.

Wherever they were, Buck was aware of him.

Tommy could be across the room, deep in conversation with Bobby, or standing at the truck joking around with Eddie, and Buck would still know exactly where he was at all times.

(Chimney had once called it his Built-In Tommy Radar™.)

Which, granted, was very dramatic.

But also, not entirely untrue.

And really, he blamed Tommy. He’d totally conditioned Buck. Because every time their eyes met across the room, Tommy would give him that smile.

The soft, scrunchy one, the one that was just for him.

And Buck?

Buck was a lost cause. 

What else was he supposed to do but make his way to Tommy? To kiss that smile that was his and his alone, to sigh happily into his mouth, to melt under Tommy’s touch—the warm press of his hands on Buck’s hips, the rest of the world fading away. 

So yeah. Maybe he was a PDA guy.

Maybe he did like having Tommy’s arms around him, the way he got pulled in effortlessly as Tommy talked to Chim, Hen or Eddie, like it was second nature, like he was proud to have Buck in his arms. 

And maybe he did like the steady hand on his lower back when walking through a crowd, the way Tommy would subtly shift in front of him, protective without even thinking about it (and though Buck could take care of himself, there was something about the action that made him feel cared for), the soft kiss to the side of his head when there was a lull in conversation. 

He also loved the dorky, completely endearing compliments Tommy gave Buck regardless of whoever was standing within listening distance, they always left him grinning like an idiot. 

 He doesn’t ever remember being as giddy as he gets when Tommy flirts with him—making him feel as nervous as their very first date. 

And maybe—just maybe—he was a little obsessed with Tommy’s hugs.

(Okay, a lot obsessed.)

Because Tommy gave the best hugs.

Big and warm, arms wrapped around him like a shield, like Buck was something precious.

So yeah, he sought them out. Constantly. And maybe that happened to be when they were around people. So what. It was always a good time to get a Tommy hug. 

And Tommy never denied him.

So Buck kept doing it. 

One time, Buck had been trapped in a long-winded Chimney movie rant, which was fine, except he really missed Tommy and wanted to be in his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fascinating. Uh…excuse me, I gotta go ask Tommy something…” he said, turning in the direction of where he knew Tommy was. 

Chimney stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” 

Buck blinked. “Hmm? What?’

Chimney sighed. “Go on. Find Tommy. I’m stealing him later.” He pointed a finger at Buck. “Heactually appreciates my movie discussions.” 

Buck snorted. “Good luck with that.” He patted Chim’s shoulder and happily took off. 

He found Tommy in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine and talking to Hen. Without hesitation, Buck slotted himself into his side.

Tommy didn't even pause—just wrapped an arm around him, tugged him in closer, and kept talking.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, to have a Buck shaped limpet attached to his side. 

Which, to be fair, it kind of was now.

Hen just raised an eyebrow. “You really can’t go five minutes without touching him, huh?”

“Nope,” Buck said easily.

Tommy just smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, and kept rubbing slow circles into his back.

Buck grinned, nuzzling into Tommy’s neck, unable to mask the joy he felt in simple moments like this—where he objectively knew he was maybe being a bit too much, but had learned that in Tommy’s eyes? 

It was never enough. 

(5) After the Breakup 

After the breakup—and after Tommy realized his mistake, and after Buck ignored what everyone else was telling him and went to get his man back, and after the screaming-crying match outside Tommy’s house, followed by clothes ripping, up against the door, we’re-having-sex-and-getting-back-together moment—Buck’s clinginess ramped up. 

Not in a bad way. Not in a suffocating, unhealthy way.

Just in a he-knows-what-life-without-Tommy-feels-like-and-doesn’t-want-to-go-through-that-ever-again way.

And luckily for him, Tommy felt exactly the same.

Which was why, after a week of barely seeing each other because of their shifts, Buck was on the verge of losing it. He needed his Tommy time. It was a necessity at this point. 

Buck was so ready to make up for lost time.

Usually, when this happened, they’d spend a full 48 hours wrapped up in each other. No interruptions, no responsibilities—just them.

But this time?

This time, the universe had conspired against them. 

Buck didn’t know what god's he’d pissed off, but he’d love to make them an offering because this? This was just unfair. 

Instead of catching up properly—with a nice dinner (Tommy for desert), a relaxing movie (which they wouldn’t really watch, because Buck would be riding Tommy), a long shower (where Tommy would suck him dry), and finally going to bed (making love until they wrung a couple of orgasm of each other)—they’d fallen asleep. 

They’d both come off exhausting shifts that had gone into overtime, stumbled into bed, shared a sleepy kiss, and promptly passed out. 

Of course, the next morning, they’d overslept.

Which meant no lazy morning kisses, no waking Tommy up with a blowjob, no time to soak each other in, and—worst of all—no shower quickie.

Nope. Rather, they’d had to rush out the door to make it to Bobby and Athena’s BBQ. 

“Can’t we just stay in this time?” Buck pouted. “I can just tell them I got sick.”

Tommy chuckled, “Baby, we did that last time. And they didn’t believe it.” 

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were such a bad actor? Buck huffed. “I told you to sound nasally, not British.” 

Tommy shrugged, throwing him a long-suffering smile. “Well, now you know why I’m a pilot and not an actor,” he said drily. 

Buck slumped in the passenger seat, fidgeting with Tommy’s fingers “I just want you all to myself. I feel like I haven’t seen in forever,” he whined. 

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” Tommy squeezed his hand. “But if we don’t make an appearance, we’re getting disowned.”

“Fine,” Buck grumbled. 

And now, Buck was suffering.

He was pretty sure his family had conspired to ruin his life. Because tell him why everyone kept stealing Tommy away.

First, Chimney cornered him to talk about the greatest horror movies of the ‘90s (Who cares, Buck thought viciously.) 

Then, Eddie pulled him aside for car talk. (C’mon man, you guys have your own bro day for this!) 

After that, Maddie and Karen had claimed him, dragging him into a corner with wine and gossip (And okay, fine, Buck couldn’t compete with that right now—Tommy did love juicy gossip.) 

But Buck? 

Buck was two seconds away from doing some maiming. 

He tried to be patient.

Tried to play it cool.

But after an hour of barely seeing Tommy? When they’d come here together? 

Enough was enough.

So when they finally sat down to eat, Buck plopped himself right into Tommy’s lap.

Just. Dropped right in.

Complete silence around the table. 

Until— 

“Oh my god.” Chimney, squawked. 

“Can you two be normal for five minutes?” Eddie sighed.

“Buckaroo, you do know there’s an empty chair right there?” Athena said, dryly. 

“I’m surprised he lasted this long without touching Tommy,” Hen smirked. 

Bobby just shook his head and passed the potatoes to Maddie. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Maddie said, completely unbothered.

Tommy just laughed, wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Missed me, babe?”

“You have no idea,” Buck sighed dramatically, melting against him.

The table collectively groaned.

“Disgusting.” Hen.

“Sickening.” Chimney.

“Truly vile.” Eddie.

“You’re all just jealous,” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy chuckled, dropping a kiss to the side of Buck’s head, keeping one hand on his waist and pulling their plate closer to share. 

Buck grinned.

Yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

(+1) After the Breakup - Tommy’s Version

Tommy woke up first.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself staring at Evan. 

Evan, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, face soft and relaxed, his lips curved into the smallest, barely-there smile.

His head was pillowed on Tommy’s arm, his fingers curled loosely around Tommy’s waist, even in sleep still holding on.

Tommy exhaled, slow and careful, like if he moved too fast, it would all disappear.

Because some part of him—the stupid, still-scared part of him—was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was all a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of his own mind.

How could Evan really be here—in his house, in his bed, in his arms?

But no. He remembered.

Tommy remembered opening the door yesterday and coming face to face with an angry, teary-eyed Evan.

He remembered the way Evan had yelled at him—loud and emotional and so heartbreakingly honest.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Tommy! You don’t get to decide that you won’t be my last!”

And Tommy had broken down. Had said things he never meant to say out loud.

Had told Evan that he deserved better.

And Evan had shouted right back—loud, frustrated but completely sure of himself.

“I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you. Not some mythical, perfect person out there. You—Tommy. You’re already my perfectly imperfect guy. I love you.”

And Tommy—God.

Tommy had wanted to believe him. Had wanted to trust it.

So he’d made a choice. Because living without Evan had been the worst experience of his life.

And now, here they were.

Evan made a soft sound, stirring awake.

Tommy watched as his eyelashes fluttered, as his breathing shifted, as blue eyes slowly blinked open.

And then Evan saw him. And smiled, bright and beaming and easy, like he’d never once doubted Tommy was going to be here.

God.

How could Tommy have ever let this go?

He lifted a hand, fingers tracing the shape of Evan’s lips, his nose, the sharp line of his jaw. He followed the slope of his eyebrow, the curve of the pink mark above it.

Evan hummed happily, leaning into his touch.

And something in Tommy cracked wide open. Now that he could finally touch again, he couldn’t stop.

Not in the desperate, frantic way they had last night, when their hands had been all urgency, all need, all pent-up longing and desperation.

No. This was softer.

This was Tommy relearning Evan—as if he could ever truly forget him—his hands traveling slowly, memorizing and rediscovering all at once.

The curve of Evan’s hip. The dip of his spine. The warmth of his skin under Tommy’s palm.

Evan preened under the attention, sighing happily, and Tommy just soaked him in.

They lay there for a while, watching each other, saying everything without really saying a word.

Until finally, Evan made a move to sit up.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he made a noise—something small, something desperate, something aching—until Evan stopped instantly.

“Hey.” Evan’s voice was soft, questioning. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy swallowed.

His throat felt tight.

“Just—” He hesitated, but only for a second, then let himself be honest.

“Stay. A little while longer. Please.”

Evan smiled, soft and knowing. “Of course, honey.”

He opened his arms, and Tommy fell into them, into warmth and safety and home. Fell into the one place he never wanted to leave again.

Evan’s arms came up around him, holding him just as tightly as Tommy was holding on to him.

Tommy pressed his face into the crook of Evan’s neck, exhaling slow, letting himself breathe, letting himself believe.

He had Evan.

Because Evan had chosen him.

And this time?

Tommy wasn’t letting him go.

[nitadllyss]

A reminder of who you belong to.

Lee Know x Fem Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, NSFW, Hurt, Comfort, Romance.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong and explicit language, not suitable for minors, possible triggers, etc.

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

You knew that Minho wanted to keep his relationship private. You had been dating for a long time, and you never had any problems being discreet, even secretive, since both of you were idols and understood the responsibilities that came with maintaining your image.

Now, you were at a party organized by his company. Your friendship with the group was public, so you could approach them in a friendly way, but keeping many boundaries in place.

Everything changed when you heard Minho tell a staff member that he was single. He sounded nervous, and his ears were flushed. It made your blood boil. You didn’t exactly know why, but you felt that denying your relationship in front of a staff member was completely unnecessary.

You walked up to him, holding the drink you had gone to fetch for him.

“Here,” you handed him the drink brusquely, almost rudely, and quickly walked away from his line of sight.

You felt a little embarrassed for feeling that way, for being rejected. Usually, some of the staff already knew about your relationship and helped you both to meet more carefully. So why had he denied you in front of that cute, young staff member?

You decided to stop overthinking it and went to the bar on your own. You ordered a glass of whiskey, and while you were waiting, a man approached you. You had seen him before; he was also a member of your staff.

“Oh, hey,” he said, happy to see you, coming closer with a friendly smile.

You felt your mood lift as he spoke to you so kindly.

“How’s the night going? It must be a little strange being at a party just to look after us,” you said, a little embarrassed. “Let me buy you a drink,” you smiled at him, and he accepted.

That started a pleasant, friendly conversation. Everything was going great until you felt Minho’s fiery gaze from across the room.

You saw him take out his phone, write something, and then look at you again. You glanced at the notification on your phone—it was a message from him. But amused by the situation, you decided to ignore it, turned off your phone’s screen, and focused back on the conversation.

“Wanna dance? I really like this song,” the man said, offering to dance with you. It was a song for slow dancing, and you knew Minho was watching, so you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“Sure, let’s go,” you smiled at him and went to dance. You subtly flirted, rubbing against him in an “accidental” way. You moved your body sensually and, from time to time, looked at Minho, noticing how his anger was clearly visible.

You kept dancing for a while until you heard Minho’s voice.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you for a moment,” he said reluctantly. His ears were so red it looked like they were going to explode. The vein in his forehead was visible, and his eyes were sharper than ever.

“Actually, I’m a little busy,” you winked at the staff member, making him smile.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you,” Minho said, losing his patience. It was hard for him to pronounce each word, like he was biting back rage with the venom that filled his tongue.

“Fine,” you said, surrendering. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” You smiled at the man again and started walking away.

“She’s definitely not coming back, don’t look for her,” Minho said angrily to the man. It sounded like a death threat, and it probably was.

Minho reached you and quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you into a service room.

"Do you think this is funny?" he said, slamming the door.

"Coming in dressed like that, looking ridiculously delicious, knowing I can't put my hands on you? but allowing him to do it " His nose slid down your neck as he desperately inhaled your scent.

One of his hands slipped through the opening of your dress, grazing your thigh.

“You let him touch you like that because you’re so hungry for cock that you don’t care whose it is?” His tone dripped with obvious annoyance and anger.

You smiled cheekily. “Minho, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re overreacting,” you said with feigned innocence.

"So, you were rubbing your cute ass against that asshole's cock without meaning to? Are you that much of a slut?" he whispered, while his other hand squeezed your hip tightly, pressing you against his very noticeable bulge.

You let out a gasp as you felt him push furiously against you.

"He's cute, and you said it, you're single, so I am too. It's not like I couldn't fuck him." You snapped, increasing the pressure against his erection even more.

His hand went up to your neck, squeezing it tightly.

"Apparently you forget who you belong to. Don't worry, I'll remind you."

His tongue ran over your collarbone before biting it and sucking firmly. The hand that was still on your thigh began to play with your underwear, now completely wet.

"Don't… don't mark me, they'll notice," you whispered, distracted by his fingers, though with a slight concern for his prominent bunny teeth.

"Don't worry, that's the plan."

He smiled mischievously and pulled down the zipper of your dress, just leaving your back uncovered . Quickly, he began to leave a trail of wet hickeys across your back. When a moan escaped your lips and you made no objection, he smirked.

He pushed your underwear aside and probed your entrance with a finger.

You were a panting mess, desperate to have him, but you wanted to see how far his pride would go.

"Now, you will let me fill you and you will go out there full of me" he bit your back one last time, leaving a kiss on the bite. His finger entered your insides. You let out a moan and started trying to masturbate yourself with his finger, trying to create more friction.

He smiled satisfied seeing your desperation. He shoved another finger in, trying to stretch you out.

"Mhh, you're dripping on my fingers" he bit your earlobe, enjoying your sounds of pleasure.

With his free hand he unbuttoned his pants. And he touched himself over his underwear, trying to suppress any sound.

You were so close to your orgasm, you were really being stretched deliciously by his fingers, your eyes closed and your lips slightly open.

He pulled his fingers out of you as he felt that familiar pressure that indicated the proximity of your climax. You almost screamed at the lack of contact.

You turned to look at him annoyed, but before you could speak he interrupted you.

"Look what you and your stupidity caused" he pulled down his intense clothing and you could see his red, raging cock. Its tip was shiny with pre-cum.

Your mouth watered when you saw it, you needed to feel it. An inevitable moan came out of you from the need.

"I-I'm sorry" you didn't even know why you were apologizing.

"If you're really sorry, you'll be good and take everything I give you" he pulled down the zipper of your dress completely and slid it down your legs. He held your head with one hand and put it against the door. With the other he squeezed his cock and mockingly slapped your entrance.

You were going to cry if he didn't penetrate you, you were so needy that it HURT.

"Please" you said barely understandable

"Tell me who you belong to" his authoritative tone made your skin crawl, you didn't answer so he put more pressure on your head.

“YOURS” you practically screamed “please Minho I’m yours I’m so sorry please I need it” you were stammering but that was enough for him.

He entered you in one thrust, going deep. Earning a pornographic moan from you, forcing himself to swallow his own growl. He stayed for a few minutes so you could get used to his size and as soon as he felt you tighten around him he began to set a rhythm.

It definitely wasn't merciful, he penetrated you fast and hard, you felt full, each thrust accompanied by your moans. Minho, on the other hand, bit his lip hard to not make a sound.

“You’re going to be so full of me you’re going to be dripping cum while you talk to those other guys, you’re going to be so ruined for anyone�� a growl came out furiously from his throat, it was almost animalistic. He kept setting a hard pace.

"Talk to me. Could that guy's cock make you feel this good?" He put a hand on your stomach to make you aware of how deep he was inside you. You were practically drooling, you felt so good, so much so that you had lost consciousness.

"You're so drunk on cock that you can't answer a simple question," he laughed lightly and set a rougher pace, the sound of their skin slapping together was almost aggressive.

"Ahh, n-o only your cock can make me feel this good" your watery eyes and the way you dripped could prove what you were saying.

Suddenly you felt his cock contract inside you and his grunts were already unstoppable. He was cumming inside you.

"Mhg, you're going to be my pretty cum dump," he said between grunts. He bit your shoulder in an attempt to cover up his moans and began pounding into you quickly. He pressed into you deeply and stayed still.

He came inside you releasing a strong load of thick semen, he made sure to go as deep as possible.

You almost join him in his orgasm, moaning uncontrollably as you feel his hot cum. But seconds away from cumming, he pulled out of you and left you stunned.

“No Minho please, please” your ass rose up seeking friction, your voice breathy from your ruined orgasm.

He just stepped back and looked at you as if nothing had happened.

"I really hate you" You said still upset, squeezing around nothing.

"If you get ready quickly I'll make sure to make you cum at home" he said helping you get changed.

Then, he released your head and hurriedly put on his underwear followed by his pants.

"Don't ever feel insecure because of someone again. That girl was just trying to get information for a story, I would never cheat on you," he said, hoping you'd feel relieved. You felt embarrassed.

"I... I didn't know," you looked at him a bit sadly, you shouldn't have thought poorly of him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't worry," he said, giving you another kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sorry for being so... uh, blunt," he said, also embarrassed. His face turned red.

"We're even now, but please help me out because I won’t be able to walk straight," you both laughed and straightened yourselves up.

You touched up your makeup, luckily the marks he left were covered by your dress.

As you stepped out, you felt your legs weak. He helped you, holding you by the waist to keep you steady.

When a staff member approached you, concerned about your disappearance, you didn’t even try to explain.

"I'm sorry, my girlfriend isn't feeling well, so I need to take her home," he told the staff. His egocentric smile was evident on his face, and the way his voice emphasized "my girlfriend" was unmistakable.

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

I don't feel very confident writing smuts, I think they're not my strong suit...

English is not my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know. 🙏🏻🙏🏻

[the-poets-are-screaming]

Alucard x reader where reader is needy and they want to snuggle and they call him Adrian instead of alucard. His touch starved heart rips appart and he dotes on reader

Another one, I’m delighted!

Disclaimer: i am merely a writer, not a request blog of sorts, this drabble is simply to further improve my writing, i mostly post my poetries, quotes, worship, aesthetics and so on.

Reader is gender neutral.

A/n: Praise Helios, Praise Apollon, hail Aphrodite. ☀️🌅

✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○✧○♥ꊞ♥○ꊞ○♥ꊞ♥○♥ꊞ♥○✧

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were taking a stroll outside the castle, sometimes you wonder how dracula managed to build such a castle, upside down architectural designs as well, it spooked you yet intrigued you.

You’ve recently finished your usual gardening, you snuck some bites from your blueberry plant before finally deciding to go back into the castle, although it had been.. a while since you’ve seen your sweet needy lover.

Its odd..

Usually every 5 seconds he’s looking for you.

You’ve lightened up his life, ever since the two bastards betrayed him, his averse for touch was over the roof, roof of castles even. But ever since he met you, he gave this one more chance.

And by the Gods, you were doting, you cried for him, which nearly sent him into an hour breakdown because you cared.

You didnt mind him always clinging onto you, you were patient, and always are.

He knew he loved you when he saw your beautiful s/c shined bright by Helios, sunkissed by Apollon.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ੈ✩‧₊˚.

You were tired, you’ve been looking for him, a little sense of panic coursing through your veins, but a part of you knew that he knows where you are, the sound of your rhythmic heartbeat was music to his ears, he hears it everywhere and he swears he doesn’t miss the silence.

“Alucard?..” you called out to him, the sounds of your footwear tapping on the floors echoing through the castle, you forget how big the castle was sometimes.

You called once again, “alucard?”

And again,

“Aluc—“ your voice was interrupted by, of course..

“Y/n?..” his voice sounded small, a hint of vulnerability seeping through those gifted voice of his.

There he is.. always sounding lost.

This time, you both lost your ways, it was amusing, considering the castle is yours both.

“Alucard..” you sighed in relief, striding to him before falling into his arms tiredly.

“All for a walk?..” he teased.

“Looking for you, alucard..” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Adrian.”

You blinked up at him. “Pardon?”

By the hells, you look adorable, looking up at him with those beautiful e/c of yours.

“Please.. When you call me alucard, it feels as if i’m just a simple stranger to you.. call me adrian, my love..”

Your gaze softened, so did his, you both managed to always be in sync, truly, you both are pieces and halves each other, a puzzle that fits perfectly, creating a beautiful image.

“Adrian..” his names lolled out of your tongue like silk, and oh he would’ve fell to his knees but thank his father for the strength.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You both took a good rest after a few tasks you’ve both completed at the Belmont village, a well rest was needed.

You heard footsteps out of your door, of course.

“Adrian?..” this time, your voice was melodic, a velvety music for Alucard— no, adrian.

He walked into the threshold of your shared room, without a word, in a swift motion, scooping you up into his arms.

You helped a bit at his swift gesture, of course, you shouldn’t be surprised but you cant help it.

You couldn’t help but let the neediness consume you, wrapping your arms immediately around his shoulders and aggressively snuggling him, it nearly had him dropping you onto the mattress.. well

Indeed, he did drop you into the mattress but he fell with you.

“Where have you been huh?..” you scolded, but no hint of anger in your voice but of one that was needy.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, at this point he might have to step up his neediness game.

“I was reading stories to children..” he responded, his golden eyes meeting yours, you swore you could’ve seen the sun in his pupils.

Truly a gift from his mother..

Your hands trailed up to cup his flushed cheeks. “Thats an exception, i love those children, you’re an amazing father-figure, adrian..”

There it is.. his name, it unlocked something within him.. just how you always do, unlocking things within him..

His face immediately fell to your chest, you let out a soft huff at the impact, your hands soothing his silky hair back, they were beautiful, he is beautiful.

“Come here.. don’t sulk now.” You chuckled, scooting back gently, but it took effort as his arms were locked around you.

After a few adjustments, you finally had him on your chest, he was doting on you with kisses, neck kisses, palm kisses, his lips pressing against anything that he can reach.

few hours pass, he’s reading to you, gently spoon feeding you his home-cooked foods, he was the best cook, still is.

He doted on you like royalty.

And everyday he thanks any gods out there for the love that so happened to stubbornly enter his life.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[lesbikaiser]

Hellooo :3

could you write how Lorenzo and Barou would react to if reader sent them nudes, please?

hii <3 ofc i can! im so sorry for taking so long :( idk how exactly to write reactions but i hope you like it!

proofread but you never know, so im sorry if there's any errors!

don lorenzo

lorenzo feels like drool might start leaking from his mouth. there's no way he isn't spotting a hard-on right now, he knows that. all thanks to the notification popping on his screen just when he got his break, his intention being only checking his phone to see if you left any texts and oh, sure you did.

"been missing you... [02:38 PM]"

'"come back soon <3 [02:46 PM]"

the first one was sent a few minutes before his break, he could even hear your whiny voice actually saying it, and just from this one message alone, he would be beaming for the rest of his practice while thinking about you.

well, that's until he noticed the image attached to the second one.

surely he'll be thinking about you for the rest of the day after seeing it. the one that made him click on your chat, the one that got lips curving into a smirk, the one that got the boner on his shorts.

it's a picture of you. your body lays on your shared bed, breasts free of any bra with your nipples perked up, one of your hands holding your phone up to your face while the other disappears inside the lacy panties adorning your hips, hinting what you've probably been done for the past minutes.

it's a mirror picture. the same mirror he got on the ceiling of your bedroom, specifically above your bed because he wanted you to watch when he fucks you in missionary.

he's totally making that picture his lockscreen. because he's just this kind of freak.

and he's totally excusing himself to the locker room to enjoy his break, fingers quickly moving to text back a response.

"keep cumming till you can't anymore [02:50 PM]"

"ya better be nice and wet for me when i get home [02:51 PM]"

oh, and he's 100% snapping a few pictures of his hand covered in his cum and sending it to you when he's done.

shoei barou

shoei barou can't believe his eyes. he thinks you might've gone insane at this point.

he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later, to date such a nasty person like you... but what could he do? he loved you after all.

even when you decided to give him a boner in the middle of his cleaning.

he couldn't help but worry a little when his phone rang non-stop, the exclusive sound he gave your number so he would know it was you just from hearing it, indicating you'd sent him a few texts. and as much as cleaning was sacred to him, you were way more important than the dishes he was doing.

oh, what a right regretful choice.

"shoeeeeei [04:28 PM]"

"miss u sososo muchhhh [04:28 PM]"

"wanna be with youuuu [04:29 PM]"

unlocking his phone, the first messages got him to calm down, at least he knew that you were safe. he smiled to himself, reading through your sweet texts. he really thought nothing of it at first, he was used to your clinginess – especially when you had to go to work –, that was probably just you being your lovely self.

that's until he scrolled down and saw the image attached to your chat.

it was a picture of you. probably hidden in the restroom, your face is off the screen, just lips and chin showing but surely not the most eye-catching element in the pic.

his gaze is unconsciously attracted to your uniform, with enough buttons open to show your cleavage and the red, lacy bra framing your breasts, he can't deny his dick twitches at the sight. like a cherry atop the cake, a necklace hangs from your neck with a 'B' pendant resting right in the middle of your tits, a faint bruise on your skin thanks to the hickey he gave you a while ago.

he reads the caption.

"yk, it's soooo hot today [04:32 PM]"

"can't wait to be home and get rid of these clothes >.< [04:33 PM]"

he's too stunned to even think of responding, eyes bulging as he stares at his screen perplexed. he can feel his dick straining against his shorts, breath heavy as lust washes over him, heat creeping up his neck and reaching his cheeks the longer he looks at the picture.

it's your next message that takes him out of his trance, his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his veins, eagerness getting the best of him when he places his hand over his bulge, squeezing it slightly as he reads your text.

"hopefully i'll be home soon [04:35 PM]"

"so wait for me my love <3 [04:35 PM]"

he's looking forward to it.

[luniviravosshipper]

Wait, I completely forgot about how the image of Soren and Claudia in their tweens posing alongside their mother became an actual canon image in season 7 and revealed to not be just an image conjured by Viren in his last moments of life back in season 6.

So, like, that confirms that Lissa must have left when they were closer to the age they were in Puzzle House and they weren’t just little toddlers like what was initially assumed (as I pointed out in my original theory post about how the shot of her leaving in season 6 could have been her just attempting to the first time but not actually leaving that there’s a snippet in Puzzle House that implies it was only weeks before the events in it that she left). I mean, right?

And then the whole self-eating thing with Kpp’ar… And like, obviously Viren knew to some extent he was because his dark magic dream sequence pointed it out by having Viren literally confront him about it. (And ironically at the point in the dream where Kpp’ar starts going off on Viren for only caring about power when Viren was insisting everything he does he does for his family… and then there’s the whole re-contextualization of that scene with the later provided scene of Viren going to him asking for help for Soren and having Kpp’ar deny him in season 6 which I didn’t even delve into my original theory post and also now the information that apparently this entire time this fucker was cannibalizing himself to preserve his lifespan and maintain his own sense of power.) And like, I get why Viren would be threatened by Kpp’ar, but I don’t get why he would coin him of all things unless there was already some rising tension between them, especially assuming that this would be the first time Viren had coined anyone which I’m pretty sure it is.

Oh, and there’s also the whole thing about Kpp’ar deciding to frantically give up dark magic which that alone we aren’t even really sure of when first starts (unless it’s mentioned in one of the novelizations of the first two seasons or somewhere else and I haven’t come across it yet) but then how for some reason he was still messing with magic in some way by creating this whole elaborate plan to gift Claudia with the map to find those unicorns. And apparently the unicorns he had such an obsession with finding or at least have Claudia find for him for whatever reason after he gave up dark magic turned out to all be dead? What was his original plan for them?? I mean, really both his original original plan before he gave up dark magic and his later on revised original plan involving Claudia before he got coined ?? (And for the latter, was he premeditating that something would happen to have made that plan, again, possibly suggesting there was already rising tension between him and Viren for awhile? Or maybe there was something else he was anticipating would happen?)

I really have to reevaluate this whole magefam timeline. It is a mess.

[manuellarts]

Hello hello, deidara headcanons because he's all i can think about and i cant stop yapping about him 🫶🫶🫶

this spawned because i've been racking my brain trying to get into his head and find out what happened in his past, since we don't have any canon backstory for him aside from stealing forbidden jutsu and running away

all that i had managed to get was this image of his father breaking his clay sculptures, and the fact that it had left a major impact on him. since then, i waited for more to dawn upon me

little did i know . . THAT was IT. i don't really think that he has a tragic backstory or anything, the way i see it now, is that he was always a little insane (just a little) and it's only gotten worse overtime. there was really no way that he'd live very long with that kind of mentality and lifestyle, as much as it saddens me to say it.... but just as sasori had said upon first meeting him, he just wouldn't last long

not because he lacks the skill, no. but because he is simply insane. reckless, impulsive, and completely obsessed and absorbed with himself, his art, and his vision—which i like to call vision because it is part of the way he idealizes his perception of things. the way he envisions the world and builds his perception of the world is highly idealized, and whenever the world fails to meet this idealized version of what he envisions, he immediately seeks to destroy it

if we really think about it, just.. how come that he got away with stealing forbidden jutsu? how did he know of its existence in the first place as a child? how come he suddenly decided that brutal terror was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life? when trying to answer those questions, i just realized that there was something wrong right from the beginning

i just really think that deidara has a sort of friendly façade that most of the time is not genuine .. + the fact he can switch up on people very quickly. in my views .. i really see him as someone who is very subtly manipulative, and because of the fact that he almost always is truthful, and clear about his intentions, his actual lies would go unnoticed, since yeah ! he's always truthful !

so, who was really a piece of work? his parents, or him?

i think he might've also been quite the troublesome kid behind closed doors

maybe there had always been something off about him, just not always detectable, since he'd probably passed off as a good kid in the eyes of others, but he had other plans

nothing was ever enough for him

he always wanted more

and chased his idealized visions

just how delusional can one man be ?

[secondarysefikura]

Since Vincent is immortal but also in the original game is one of two optional party members(plus there’s also that theory that Vincent is actually Sephiroth’s biological father), here’s two ideas involving Vincent in Sephiroth’s victory.

Scenario one being where the party did find Vincent. Safer Sephiroth defeats the party, killing everyone but Cloud and Vincent. At first Sephiroth is very pleased with what has happened, now the people were trying to keep him and Cloud apart are finally dead and soon meteor will strike the planet and once it does he will become a god, but more importantly he and Cloud will be together forever. But that’s when he realizes that one of Cloud’s friends is still alive, and of course attempts to finish Vincent off, but much to Sephiroth’s anger and annoyance Vincent isn’t dying. Eventually Sephiroth gets fed up with this, and just grabs Cloud who is trying desperately to escape his grasp and get to Vincent before flying out of the Northern Crater. Sephiroth is now keeping Cloud hidden away from Vincent while the ladder is searching for Cloud. Both Vincent and Sephiroth end up having many encounters which usually ends the same which is Sephiroth being angry that despite his efforts Vincent still isn’t dead.

Scenario two being where the party never found Vincent. Sephiroth wins and ends up keeping Cloud in the Shinra Mansion since that place is special to him, as it was the place where he found out ‘the truth’ about his past. Sephiroth will leave for a few hours and during one of these times Cloud discovers Vincent sleep the one of the coffins. He of course keeps Vincent’s existence a secret from Sephiroth and when every Sephiroth leaves Cloud immediately goes down to the basement to see Vincent who in now the only human interaction he can have who isn’t Sephiroth. Cloud is always careful and listening out in case Sephiroth decides to return early. In the beginning of their little friendship they have going it was pretty much just small talk with both not wanting to talk about their pasts, but later on they eventually start to open up more to each other. Despite how Vincent’s seems he ends up being the light that Cloud needed in the hell he was now trapped in, making it more important to him that he keeps Vincent a secret.

Oooo, you have two great ideas here! Let's break them down!

So for scenario one:

"...but much to Sephiroth’s anger and annoyance Vincent isn’t dying."

I really like the image of Sephiroth getting more and more upset when he's can't seem to kill a guy! I'm imagining him having a minor mental breakdown as he tries (and fails) to end Vincent. Bonus if he thinks he finally succeeded only to see Vincent get back up. He's seriously starting to question his "ascent" in godhood if he can't kill just one guy!

"Sephiroth is now keeping Cloud hidden away from Vincent while the latter is searching for Cloud. Both Vincent and Sephiroth end up having many encounters which usually ends the same which is Sephiroth being angry that despite his efforts Vincent still isn’t dead."

You know what Sephiroth probably hates even more than the fact that Vincent just refuses to die? The fact that Cloud seems happy every time Sephiroth comes "home" angry about failing to kill Vincent.

He hates that Cloud gets a small smile whenever Sephiroth growls that Vincent survived another encounter. Even worse, Cloud always tries to "threaten" him with what will happen the moment Vincent finds him and "frees" him. As soon as he gets his hands on his sword, Cloud promises, Sephiroth will wish he had killed him .

Sephiroth is not gentle as he tries to make Cloud understand that such things will NEVER be allowed to happen.

For scenario two:

Vincent probably scares the shit out of Cloud when he finds him. Depending on how bold Cloud is with exploring the manor (or just how much he thinks he can explore before he risks Sephiroth punishing him for "trying to escape") it may have been several years since Cloud saw someone other than Sephiroth. So finding another person--one who is a coffin nonetheless? Cloud probably has a small heart attack.

Although as startling as it for Cloud, I imagine the whole situation is even more startling for Vincent. What do you mean that humanity has been wiped off the earth by some guy? And you said his name is Sephiroth?

To say Vincent is horrified to discover the things Sephiroth has done is an understatement. He desperately wants to ask Cloud more questions about what has happened since he fell asleep, but before he can Cloud snaps his head to the side and starts muttering about how "Sephiroth is back" and that Vincent "needs to hide."

I'm willing to bet that at first, Vincent only talks to Cloud to try to gather information on Sephiroth so he can plan how to kill him. With time, however, he grows genuinely fond of Cloud and their interactions with each other. Hence, as you said, he opens up to Cloud as Cloud begins to open up to him. Soon, Vincent begins to look forward to their visits just as much as Cloud does.

Perhaps the two even begin to develop something of a relationship. Nothing too intimate--Cloud is terrified that Sephiroth will somehow know if Vincent so much as kisses him on the cheek--but they'll rest their heads on the other's shoulder and enjoy a brief moment of peace.

That is until one day, however, when it isn't Cloud who opens his coffin. No, this time the one who opens his coffin is a man with green cat slit eyes and silver hair.

And to say this man is livid is an understatement.

[geminiwritten]

desperate measures ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: based on this song but a little more angsty than i had originally planned (the avengers are struggling to infiltrate an underground crime ring and decide that bucky should go undercover to seduce one of the kingpins' daughters, and you aren't happy about it)

notes: bucky is back, baby!!! but i fear i may have forgotten how to write him? i don't know, i had big plans and then feel like i really struggled toward the end, but i persevered! let me know what you think, please!!!

word count: 6329

The Avengers have protected the entire world against aliens, robots, and superhumans. They’ve defended continents and countries, defeating threats that should have been impossible to beat. So, you would think that taking down one of New York City’s biggest underground crime ring would be a piece of cake, right? Wrong.

It’s been four months since representatives of the Attorney General's office and the FBI’s Deputy Director came knocking, asking Earth’s Mightiest Heroes for help on a matter that would normally be handled by detectives. Steve and Tony were hesitant at first, but Natasha and Clint convinced them that with their espionage backgrounds, this would be an easy assignment for the team. Also, wrong.

Four months of reconnaissance, undercover work, and meeting after meeting with agents from the Bureau but still nothing.  There are suspects, crimes, and witnesses, but the operation is so tightly run that no one on the outside has any information on how the puzzle pieces fit together.

“We need to get inside,” Clint says, resting his palms on the glass tabletop and shifting all of his weight forward. He is standing at the head of the table in front of the interactive display flashing through numerous headshots of mean-looking thugs.

“We know that much,” Steve sighs, sitting beside where Clint is standing. “What we don’t know is how.”

Everyone looks defeated and bored, because you’ve been having the same meeting every week for the last fifteen weeks with almost no new intel to discuss. After the first month, you started tuning out, instead using the two hours to daydream about the brunette super solider sitting across from you.

You’re not sure when you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, all you do know is that you are in love with him, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not that you’re at all subtle with the way your eyes trace his features, cheeks turning pink when he meets your gaze with a little smirk.

If you’re being completely honest, you’ve both been dancing around your feelings for each other for months. You’re constantly with each other, talking and giggling, working out together and finishing mission reports together; practically inseparable, but always being careful. You’re too scared to cross that line, because neither of you want to put that kind of pressure on the team or leave yourselves vulnerable to heartbreak.

Physical pain, you can do, but you’ve let yourself fall so hard and fast for this man, you can’t imagine surviving the impact when you hit the bottom, so you’ll just keep falling.

“I have an idea,” Nat says, standing abruptly and walking quickly around the table toward Clint. She uses her fingertips to enlarge one of the holographic images, the Petrov family portrait. “Sasha Petrov,” she points at the eldest daughter, “she’s a weak link, we can exploit that.”

You scan the stoic faces of the Russian family now on display. The Petrovs are allegedly one of the two ruling families of the crime syndicate, led by their patriarch, Alexander Petrov; a man the FBI would do anything to pin down.

“Holy shit,” Tony smacks both hands against the table, “Romanoff, you’re a genius.”

“Wait,” Steve frowns, “what am I missing?”

“Sources report that twenty-four-year-old Sasha Petrov is outgrowing her family's conservative lifestyle,” Nat reads from the tablet in her hands, “she has been photographed at various nightclubs and house parties, clearly unbothered about keeping a low profile.”

“So?” Steve asks, “What credibility does some tabloid article have?”

“Our sources are reporting the same behaviour,” Tony says. “She’s out almost every night, she’s been seen staying at friends’ houses, and missing events.”

“The Petrovs are one of New York City’s wealthiest families,” Nat explains, “for their eldest daughter to skip society events is a huge statement.”

“She’s rebelling,” Tony states.

Steve nods slowly, “So, she’s a liability, but how to we exploit that?”

Tony’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, “What is the number one act of rebellion that a daughter can do to piss off her father?”

“Date a guy he hates,” you reply before anyone else does.

“Exactly,” Tony turns toward you, “bonus points if you can tell me why daddy hates your new boyfriend.”

“He’s older, has long hair, only wears black, probably has a tattoo, and he rides a motorcycle,” you respond, sitting back in your chair with a proud smirk.

“Exactly!” Tony repeats louder.

It’s almost as if a lightbulb flashes above Steve’s head, but he doesn’t look nearly as pleased as Natasha and Tony. “Bucky,” Steve says, “Bucky is your idea?”

Nat nods, “Barnes is our weapon.”

Clint’s eyes grow wide, “Wait, you want to use Barnes to seduce the mobster heiress?”

Your heart sinks right down into your stomach, your gaze moving back over to the Petrov family portrait. The eldest daughter is tall and gorgeous, with long blonde hair, flawless fair skin, and honey-coloured eyes. Her lips are full and puckered, and all you can think about is those lips on Bucky.

“No,” you speak before you can think, quickly looking toward Steve for backup.

He nods once in agreeance, “Y/N’s right, I’m not sure Bucky can-”

“I can do it,” Bucky interrupts. He doesn’t look shocked or at all blinded-sided the way you know you do. He seems calm, leaning back in his seat with his left ankle resting on his right knee and his hands fidgeting with a pen in his lap.

Bile rises in your throat. He wants to do it? You know you haven’t exactly been forthcoming about your feelings for him, but you had yourself reasonably convinced that he felt the same way.

Sam chuckles, breaking the tension in the room, “You’re going to turn Barnes into a heartthrob?”

Bucky cracks a smile, “Just a bit of minor surgery.”

“Actually,” Nat says, “I think you’re already perfectly ready for this assignment.”

Tony holds up a finger, “Do you have a tattoo, and if not, are you willing to get one?”

“No one is getting any tattoos,” Steve interjects, “but if we are doing this – if we’re sending Bucky in solo – we need to plan it carefully.”

Your eyes dart back to the gorgeous blonde in the family portrait behind Nat, and you feel sick. You completely tune out of the conversation happening around you and sink back in your chair to focus on keeping your lunch down. Your mind races to come up with some brilliant excuse that could stop Bucky from doing this, but the only thing you can think to say is I love you, please don’t.

After barely a minute of listening to them discuss how to get the mobster’s daughter to fall in love with Bucky, you decide you can’t do it. You push your chair back and quickly leave the room, slipping out the door before anyone can protest your departure.

Once in the hallway, you slow your steps and let a couple of tears run down your cheeks. You feel stupid, of course, but you can’t help it. You know you shouldn’t be this emotional, Bucky will only be doing his job, but he’s supposed to be yours. You don’t want anyone else seeing him the way you see him or touching him the way you want to. If the plan works, this woman might genuinely fall for Bucky, and the idea of that makes you want to kick and scream.

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice echoes down the hall, startling you.

You keep your back to him as you hurriedly wipe your cheeks. His footsteps grow louder as he approaches, not saying anything until he’s right behind you. “You alright?” he asks.

You nod, turning to face him with your eyes cast downward, “Yeah, sorry, just-”

“Don’t bother,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not stupid, and neither is Barnes. I know you’re worried about whatever is going on between you two, but this is work, and it’s the closest we’ve gotten in four months. It might not be ideal to send one man in alone, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

You finally look up at him and sniffle, “I know, I just don’t like it.”

He sighs and pulls you against his chest, hugging you tightly for a moment. “If you don’t like it,” he says before stepping back, “then stop crying and do something about it once this is all over.”

Your brow creases and you look up at him curiously, “Do what?”

He shrugs, “You’ll figure it out.”

You watch him walk back down the hallway and return to the meeting room, but you can’t find the will to force yourself to follow. Instead, you turn around and continue on your way back to your room.

Two hours pass before you hear signs of life filtering through the compound once again. You’ve since changed into your comfiest pair of sweatpants and curled up on one of the lounges by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the common area, book in hand.

Sam and Steve are the first to appear, still deep in discussion as they head into the kitchen and begin raiding the fridge. Clint, Nat, and Wanda are next, also seemingly unfinished with their conversation as they take up residence on the lounges in front of the television. Only Nat notices you curled up near the window, offering you a smile that says ‘we’ll talk later’.

You manage to tune out most of their voices and focus on your book, reading quickly to try and get to the part where the main characters finally get together. You’ve been stuck on romance novels lately, craving that which you lack in real life.

“Hey,” Bucky startles you, suddenly appearing beside you.

You smack your hand against your chest, “Jesus.”

“Nope,” he chuckles, “just me.”

You roll your eyes and curl your legs up further to make room on the lounge. He takes the offer and flops down, half of his right leg covering your toes, but you don’t mind. In fact, you like the physical contact, however small.

“What are you reading now?” he asks, snatching the book from your grasp before you can object.

Your cheeks begin burn immediately, heart racing as you watch his eyes scan the pages that you’d just been reading. The smile on his lips slowly fades as his eyebrows rise, blue eyes darting from side to side until he finishes two entire pages.

“So, this is why you’ve always got your nose in a book, hm?” he asks, his own cheeks now a pale shade of pink.

You take the book back and jam your bookmark between the pages where the lead male is jerking off to fantasies of what he wants to do to the lead female. “It’s not all porn,” you defend yourself weakly, deciding not to add that this is one of your more PG-rated novels.

“I’m not judging,” he says, “we’ve all got needs.”

You want to agree wholeheartedly and tell him that you need him, and more importantly, you need him to not agree to this stupid mission with the supermodel Russian heiress, but you can’t. Instead, you simply nod and tuck your book between your thighs.

He clears his throat, “Anyway, I just wanted to check that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you say, “just sick of those meetings.”

He frowns, “Are you sure?”

You open your mouth to lie again but hesitate, noticing the way his eyes dart toward your lips every few seconds. There’s nothing wrong with voicing your concerns about the assignment, right?

“I’m just not sure,” you finally say, “for a first effort, this feels kind of last ditch.”

“First effort?” he repeats with a chuckle. “This is far from our first effort, Doll.”

“I know,” you sigh, struggling to find the right words, “I guess it just feels a little drastic, sending you in alone. Couldn’t the FBI handle this?”

He rests his flesh hand on your knee, “I appreciate the concern, but I think I might be able handle this better than an FBI agent, and I speak Russian.”

The warmth of his touch and the fact that you can smell his coconut-scented shampoo is turning your brain to mush, and you struggle to remember your argument. All you want to do is throw your arms around his neck and beg him not to go.

He leans forward, “What are you really worried about?”

“You,” you reply, “I-I’m worried that you’re going in alone.”

He sighs and leans back, “You don’t need to worry about me, Doll, nothing is going to stop me from coming back to you.” He stands up from the lounge as he says, “I promise.”

You’re too shocked to speak, or even move, until he’s in the kitchen with Steve. You can feel your pulse in your ears, fast and loud as your heart pounds against your ribcage. Was he trying to get you to say something? Does he want you to cross that line?

You spend the rest of the afternoon finishing your book and then starting another. After a quick dinner with Natasha, you decide to have a bath and try to tame your thoughts, but it’s useless. All you can think about is Bucky, in fact, you ‘think about him’ twice while in the bath and end up getting out even more flustered than when you got in.

You lay on your bed in your towel for almost an hour, wondering whether you should go and confess your feelings to Bucky or just wait and let him do this assignment with a clear head. Nat told you at dinner that he will be going undercover for the first time tomorrow night, and that Clint and Tony are working overnight to prepare his fake identity in time.

Eventually, you decide that it’s too late and you shouldn’t bother him, so you put yourself to bed. You stare at the ceiling spiralling through thoughts for twenty minutes before picking your new book up again and by 3AM, you’ve finished it.

The night rolls into dawn, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t had more than thirty minutes of uninterrupted sleep. At 5AM, you decide that it isn’t too early to be making noise, so you change into your gym clothes and make your way downstairs. You work out for two hours before you see anyone else, and by then, you’re exhausted.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, standing in front of where you’re sitting on the blue foam floor mats.

You’re supposed to be stretching, but you’re fairly sure you were falling asleep right before she came in. “Yeah,” you mumble, “didn’t sleep much.”

“I can tell.” She sits beside you, “Are you really that worried?”

You sigh, “I don’t know.”

She places her towel and water bottle on the floor beside yours before sitting down opposite you, legs crossed. “You don’t know if you’re worried, or you don’t know what you’re worried about?”

“The second one,” you mutter.

She nods slowly, allowing a moment of silence before asking, “You don’t really think he’s going to fall in love with this woman, do you?”

You sigh and rub your tired eyes, “No, I don’t think so. I know he’s not stupid.”

“And you know he’s in love with you,” she states.

“Is he?”

She rolls her eyes as she uncrosses her legs, stretching them out either side and leaning forward slightly. “Don’t be dumb, you know he is.”

“Then why hasn’t he done anything about it?”

“It’s Bucky,” she says, as if the answer is obvious.

“So?”

“So, you need to make the move, because he’s being as forward as he knows how, but he hasn’t done this kind of thing in over seventy years.”

You frown at her, not because you’re confused, but because you’re annoyed that she’s right. Maybe you haven’t both been ‘dancing around’ your feelings, maybe Bucky has actually been trying to make a move but you’re the one keeping it friendly.

“But please wait until after we’ve put Petrov and his buddies behind bars,” she adds, “because we need Barnes to be focused.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, “How do we even know that this woman is going to fall for him?”

“Based on her previous relationships and assuming Barnes does everything I tell him to do, we shouldn’t have a problem,” Nat replies as she pushes up from the ground. She offers you a hand, “Now, please go get some sleep so you’re not crying your eyes out when we send him into the lion’s den tonight.”

You take Nat’s hand and collect your things before sluggishly making your way back to your room. After a quick shower, you fall into bed and out of consciousness in less than a minute, dreaming of nothing but that darn brunette super soldier.

Funnily enough, the name of the exclusive nightclub Bucky will be meeting Sasha Petrov in is called the Lion’s Den. It’s just south of Manhattan, somehow hidden from the busy streets and can only be found if you know exactly where to look for the entrance.

The whole team is working tonight. Wanda and Sam will be going into the club with Bucky so he doesn’t look like a complete loner, and as emergency backup in case anything should go wrong. Clint is the eye in the sky and Nat is patrolling the streets, looking out for anything suspicious since crime seems to follow the Petrov family around. That leaves you, Steve, and Tony set up in a nearby office building with all the surveillance technology to watch from afar.

“I just need to send word to the Deputy Director before you go in,” Tony says over the comms.

He has his tech set up at one of the desks closest to the window on the fourth floor of the office building. The FBI had assisted with securing this vantage point, shutting down the whole building for ‘overnight maintenance’ just in case any sad nine-to-fivers decided to sleep in their offices.

“We’ll take a little detour,” Sam says, his voice right in your ear even though you know he’s over a block away.

You’d all separated about two miles away from the club, taking different routes and transports to get to your respective posts. Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had decided to walk, giving the rest of you enough time to set up and be in position for whatever might happen when Bucky enters the club. He has very strict instructions from Natasha on how to approach Sasha. Apparently, they’d be practicing all day while you had been sleeping.

“How long until you’re at the door?” Nat’s voice comes through your comms.

“Eight minutes,” Wanda replies.

“Bucky, you good?” Nat asks.

“I’m good,” he says, the sound of his voice making your chest ache.

You can’t stop wringing your hands as you look out the huge window to the street below. There aren’t many people walking by, but the few that you do spot all seem to be heading in the same direction; the Lion’s Den.

The sound of your pounding heart thrums in your ears, drowning out the conversation between Bucky and Natasha as they recap everything that she’s told him to do. You're not sure you’ve ever felt this nervous in your life, but you’re not entirely sure what for. Nothing bad has happened yet, and Bucky is fully capable of defending himself if something does go wrong.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice breaks through the white noise that your anxious brain was creating, “are you okay?”

You turn to face him, “Yeah, sorry, I-”

“You’re really pale,” he says, pressing his hand to your forehead, “have you eaten today?”

“Not really.”

Steve glances back at Tony, who is worrying at his bottom lip as holds his phone to his ear, no doubt waiting for the Deputy Director to answer.

“I told you to stay behind,” Nat states.

You frown, even though she’s almost half a mile away right now, “I’m fine.”

“Y/N?” Bucky says.

Your heart leaps in your chest, “Yeah?”

“It’s going to be okay,” he pauses, and you try to calm your breathing, “I’m going to be okay.”

Tony snorts and pretends to gag before turning back to his computers and sitting in one of the empty desk chairs, obviously no longer worried.

“I just-” you hesitate, “I can’t let this-” you huff and pull your comm out of your ear, “I can’t let this go.”

You take off running through the open plan office area until you reach the door to the stairwell, shoving it open and leaping down the stairs as many at a time as you can manage. Once you reach the bottom landing, you pull your phone out of your back pocket and hang up on the incoming call from Steve before opening the tracking app that Tony installed on everyone’s phones. It isn’t always active, only during missions.

Bucky’s location pings a quarter mile down the street. You exit the building and turn in his direction before taking off in a sprint, your lungs burning with every breath. It only takes a minute until you can see the three of them up ahead, on the opposite side of the street, and it only takes about ten seconds for them to notice you. They all stop, probably trying to figure out if you’re a threat or not, but after another few seconds, Bucky recognises you.

Your energy wanes and your pace slows to a jog. You look behind you to check the traffic before crossing the road, but when you turn to check the traffic up ahead, Bucky is already right in front of you.

You practically crash into him, but his hands catch your waist and hold you still, “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath, “I can’t let this go.”

He isn’t angry, but you can’t quite place the expression despite how close you are to him, your body pressed against his. “Can’t let what go?”

You take a deep breath to try and appease your burning lungs, “I got you right where I want you, and-” you take another breath, “I’ve been pushing for this for so long.”

His brow furrows, “What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

Your chest finally stops aching, and you look up at him through your lashes, “Kiss me, just once, for luck.”

His frown disappears, and you worry for a moment that you shouldn’t have crossed that line, but then his hands move to cup your jaw and he closes the distance between your lips. Your hands find purchase on the nearest part of him, fisting the hem of his shirt as one of his hands slides down your neck, his thumb tracing your throat. You part your lips and he sighs, pressing his body impossibly closer to yours.

He tastes like spearmint and cold air, and his lips are so soft that you have to wonder if you’re dreaming, but then he startles and pulls back. Panic washes through you as you watch his face, his eyes no longer on you but cast across the street at Sam and Wanda.

“I’m sorry, Doll,” he says, before placing another quick kiss on your lips, “I have to go.”

Without the warmth of his body, the night air is biting. You instinctively wrap your arms around yourself and turn back the way you came, your mind racing. Did you just fuck everything up? Surely not. Bucky is still going in, and it’s not like one little kiss is going to completely derail this mission. Right?

It takes you a lot longer to get back to the office building than it did for you to leave, but thankfully, Bucky is already inside the club and Steve and Tony are too focused to berate you.

You sit in one of the spare desk chairs and watch over Tony’s shoulder, refusing to put your comm back in. You don’t want to hear what’s happening, you want to remain in blissful ignorance instead of listening to the man you’re in love with chat up some mobster’s supermodel daughter. Bucky can be incredibly charming when he needs to be, and according to Steve, he was a major ladies’ man back in the day.

After an hour or so, you slide your chair over to a spare desk and lay your head down. You feel useless and a little stupid, but mostly, just tired. You know the team are annoyed at you and just waiting until tomorrow to reprimand you, but technically, it’s their fault that you did that. They pushed you toward desperate measures.

The next thing you know, someone is gently shaking your shoulder and interrupting your dreams of Bucky. The images of him standing over you while you wait on your knees for him to finish in your mouth quickly fades, and you open your bleary eyes to see Steve.

“Hey,” he whispers, “time to go.”

You sit up slowly, “What happened?”

Something about his expression is off, and you wonder why he’s being so gentle as he wraps an arm around to help you stand. It’s almost as if you’re a child and he’s trying not to wake you for the fear that you might not go back to sleep.

“Steve,” you say, pulling away from him and standing on your own, “what happened?”

He takes a deep breath and steps back, “Bucky did really well, that’s all. Nothing happened.”

“Yet,” Tony adds.

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t baby her, Steve,” Tony says before turning his attention to you, “Barnes took Sasha home.”

They both watch you carefully, waiting for the explosion, but you know you’ve already given them enough to deal with today, so you muster every ounce of your self-control to stay calm.

You swallow thickly, “Okay. Let’s go.”

You pick up one of the cases by Tony’s feet and continue walking toward the stairwell. As soon as you begin descending the stairs, tears start to fall down your cheeks. You try to focus on your feet through your blurry vision, making sure you don’t trip until you reach the bottom landing.

Natasha pulls up with the car and Clint jumps out to help load the trunk. You climb into the back, buckle your seatbelt, and press your head against the cold window. The car rocks as the others climb in, and normally you would love to make fun of Steve and Tony squished in the back with you, but not tonight.

The drive home is long and awkward. Wanda calls in and Nat answers via the Bluetooth, immediately informing her that you’re in the car so that she doesn’t go into too much detail. However, she does let you all know that it went better than expected and Barnes will report back in the morning. He’s taken Sasha to the apartment that Tony set up as a part of the fake identity.

If you’re being honest, you hadn’t even thought about this part. You knew he would flirt and touch her, and they would probably kiss, but you completely forgot about sex. How? You have no idea, especially considering that every time you close your eyes, you’re picturing him naked.

You feel sick and you know you won’t sleep tonight, but most of all, you feel like an idiot. You almost jeopardised the entire mission just because of your feelings. You want to apologise to the team and tell them you’ll never do it again, but you can’t stop crying and you can’t make that promise right now.

When you finally get home, you start dragging your feet toward your room, but Natasha stops you. “Hey,” she tugs on your hand, “want to watch a movie?”

You frown, “It’s really late.”

She shrugs, “I’m not tired.”

After a quick shower, you change into your pyjamas and meet Nat in the living area. She is already curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, flicking through Netflix, so you join her silently and rest your head on her shoulder. She doesn’t ask what you want to watch, she just picks a random comedy from the late 90s and snuggles up beside you.

Your whole body is tired, but your mind won’t stop racing. You can’t stop picturing him with her, wondering what they’re doing right now, and regretting what you did right before he walked into that club. Obviously, it hadn’t meant as much to him as it did to you, because you know you couldn’t possibly have gone off to sleep with someone else after that, but you have to keep telling yourself that it’s a good thing. He’s doing what he needs to do to finish the mission, it doesn’t matter how sick it makes you feel. He’s doing his job.

An hour passes but your nausea doesn’t ease, nor do you feel at all like you might fall asleep. Nat is still awake too, and you know it’s not because she isn’t tired but because she’s worried about you. When the first movie finishes, she stretches her legs out and declares that she’s going to make a coffee, so you too unfold your legs and shuffle into the kitchen with her.

“Is Tony going to be mad?” you ask, your voice thick from crying.

Nat sighs, “I don’t know. I think it depends on what Bucky reports in the morning.”

Your stomach swirls angrily, threatening to eject whatever is left of the small amount of food that you ate almost eight hours ago.

Nat finishes making her coffee and holds it in both hands, watching you with worried eyes as fresh tears streak down your cheeks. She opens her mouth to speak again but the sound of heavy footsteps interrupts her. Both of your heads turn quickly toward the door, and for a second, you think you might be hallucinating.

“Bucky?” Nat says, confirming she can see him too. You’re not that crazy.

He doesn’t look at her, he doesn’t even flinch. His eyes are locked on you, his breaths coming and going quickly as if he ran all the way from the city. The only thing you can feel is your heartbeat, radiating through your whole body like a drum beat, pounding in your ears.

“Okay,” Nat says slowly, “I’m going to go, but- uh,” she looks toward you, “forget what I said before, Tony might be mad.” She puts her half-drunk coffee in the sink and moves quickly out the door.

Silence blankets the room, save for Bucky’s laboured breathing. He still looks gorgeous, despite his dishevelled clothing and flushed skin. His hair is out, though you distinctly remember it being tied back before the club, and there’s a smudge of pink lipstick on his shirt collar.

“What happened?” you ask, though you’re not sure you really want to know.

He doesn’t respond, he simply takes four long strides to reach you and cups your jaw before pressing his lips against yours. You don’t react at first, partly from shock and partly because he doesn’t taste the same, but when his hand slides down your throat the way it had before, you kiss him back.

He takes half a step closer, pressing your bodies together as his tongue slides past your lips. You sigh and lean into him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his pants to pull him closer. He shivers at your touch, instinctively arching his hips toward you and tilting your head back to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back for a breath, he murmurs against your mouth, “Couldn’t do it.”

You push up onto your toes to kiss him again, to which he enthusiastically obliges. His hands wrap gently around the base of your neck and his fingers tangle in the hair at your nape, tugging softly as your tongue laps at his.

This time, you break away for air, “What do you mean?”

He sighs and relaxes completely, his body no longer pressed against yours but still close. His hands find yours and gently pull them out of his pants, though it seems to take a lot of self-control for him to do so.

“I thought I could do it,” he says, “because it’s work, and it wouldn’t mean anything.”

You drop your gaze to the collar of his shirt, the smudge of pink lipstick.

“She was-” he struggles to find the right words, “well, she was really into it, but I couldn’t even kiss her.”

You glance up at him through your lashes, trying not to appear satisfied about the fact that you practically ruined the whole assignment.

“She didn’t seem to care, though,” he adds, “and it wasn’t hard to get her to come home with me.” You drop your gaze again and try to pull your hands out of his grasp, but his grip tightens and he tugs you closer again. “I could barely look at her, let alone touch her.”

He crooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts your head back up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “So, to answer your question,” he says, leaning toward you, “nothing happened.”

He closes the distance and kisses you again. Your mind goes blank, clean of any thoughts or worry, completely consumed by the way his lips feel against yours and the way his hands are moving down your body.

Your heart throbs, threatening to burst as you whisper against his lips, “I love you.”

You can feel his mouth curl into a grin, feeling more teeth than lips against your kisses. His hands brace themselves against your back, one splayed between your shoulder blades and the other on your lower back, holding your body against his.

“I am yours,” he mutters, “my body, my heart, all of it... yours.”

You can’t help but giggle, happiness creeping through your body for the first time in twenty-four hours. You feel high, as if Bucky is a drug and if you ever have to be away from him again, the withdrawals might kill you.

He gives you another quick kiss before taking a step back and shedding his jacket. He dumps it on the counter and looks back at you, “There are a lot of things I want to do with you right now, but I am way too tired to do them properly right now.”

Your stomach does a little anticipatory somersault, but you too are finally feeling the ache of exhaustion and need for sleep. You take one of his hands in yours and drag him toward the lounge where you and Nat had been laying. You pick the blanket up, sit down, pull him down beside you, and throw the blanket over both of you. He quickly kicks his boots off and shuffles around until he is lying beneath you. With your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, you fall asleep in mere seconds.

The sound of whispered chatter wakes you up, and you blink blearily against the bright morning sun as you try to sit up. Bucky is still asleep, but over the back of the couch you can see your other teammates gossiping in the kitchen.

Natasha notices you first, “Good morning, Sunshine.”

You carefully push yourself up and rub your eyes, mumbling, “Morning.”

"Did you two fuck on my lounge?” Tony asks bluntly, pausing in the middle of the kitchen with the coffee pot in one hand and a mug in the other.

You frown, “No.”

“Good,” he says, beginning to pour the coffee into his mug, “so, all you did was ruin our one shot at real insider intel.”

A pebble of guilt sinks to the bottom of your stomach, weighing it down despite the butterflies still dancing around about the fact that Bucky is finally yours.

“Calm down, Stark,” Bucky grumbles, his voice thick with sleep and his eyes barely open. He sits up slowly and looks up at you, a little smirk lifting the corner of his lips.

“Oh, excellent,” Tony walks halfway toward the living room, “you’re both awake so I can yell at you both for-”

“I took her phone,” Bucky interrupts, gesturing at his jacket on the kitchen counter, “it’s in the pocket. You better be quick though, because she’ll probably realise pretty soon.”

Tony’s eyes grow wide, “What? How did you-”

“She was really drunk,” Bucky shrugs, “I convinced one of the bartenders at the club to come home with us and then I snuck away when the two of them were preoccupied.”

“Oh, my God,” Nat says, a wide grin plastered across her face, “Barnes, you’re a genius.”

“That’s why you were flirting with the bartender,” Sam chuckles, “man, I thought he was more into you than her.”

Tony hurries back to the kitchen bench and plonks his mug down with a slosh before rifling through Bucky’s jacket. He finds the phone quickly and beckons Steve with him as he disappears out the doors. Wanda and Sam begin regaling Nat with stories about last night and Bucky turns his attention back to you.

“Good morning,” he says, offering you his hand and yawning widely.

You can’t help but yawn too, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head in the crook, enjoying the smell of his cologne mixed with sleep and warmth. He kisses your head, and you move to kiss his neck before spotting the pink lipstick stain and pulling back.

“How about a shower?” you ask. “Then we can burn this shirt.”

He frowns, and you stretch the material out just enough for him to peer down and see the mark. “Oh,” he chuckles, “alright, but it’s only fair if we both take our clothes off.”

You press your lips against his, mumbling, “Deal.”

END.

[witchyliterature]

PLEASE PLEASEEE could you do like unreciprocated love w touya i’d be so grateful 🙁🙁 maybs based off of the song chest pain by malcolm todd or promise by laufey either oneee! n i have no idea what format it could be so whatever you think fits best :)

this is actually my first time writing proper angst sooo IDK. i chose promise bc i know that song better which made it easier to write to. i think this was ok? I REALLY DONT KNOW but yeah. anyways, it’s post war period, rehabilitated touya au, mentions of death, reader is a little mean to touya but one could argue it’s justifiable (depends on perspective, idk im just the author yall). did a normal one shot format cus i can only do 10 images on mobile and i knew i wanted this to be a lot longer (it’s only 1.6k words but still). touya living with shoto canon cus i said so. use of the name dabi but only for metaphorical comparisons. gender neutral reader. hints to musician dabi (like one line). uhhh yeah i think that’s all, HOPE U LIKE

promise; touya todoroki

dabi was never a romantic.

the bubbling burnt feeling of hatred consumed him wholly and swallowed any other emotion - he was a vessel for hatred, for not only did he carry his own, but also his family’s who couldn’t express their own feelings toward endevour.

yet, touya found out he was.

after the war and a long rehabilitation process, he had realised there are other things to life, hatred was not the only emotion in sight, it was not the only emotion he deserved.

so when touya found out that he had feelings for you, the only friend he had ever made by himself after the war that didn’t have any villainous intent, he had been terrified.

he couldn’t explain it at first, why his heart would leap when speaking to you, or why he tried to hard to impress you when you both went to the gym, or even why he had made a song about you and all the lyrics sounded oddly romantic.

then, when even his socially inept brother could tell that he had some form of feelings for you, it finally clicked.

so then, he made a promise, to distance himself until these childish feelings resolved themselves.

touya didn’t deserve to love or be loved, not after all the destruction he caused or all the suffering he made others feel - even his own family.

for 16 days, he avoided you like the plague. airing your calls and texts, avoiding you at work (which was damn near impossible) and when he did have to talk to you, he kept it short and sweet, even then, his palms got sweaty and his smile would grow double its size when you were around.

but, at some point, he broke his promise.

he didn’t exactly understand why he did, he just saw someone that looked like you when he was walking home from work and decided that enough was enough.

shoto had hyped him up, telling him that this was going to be fine, you had to have want him as well after everything, or at least you would give him a chance.

touya’s confidence was built, he knew what he was going to do, he was going to ask you out.

on call though, he was still a shy little boy on the inside of it all.

leading for him and shoto to be sat on the kitchen island seats across from one another, calling your number while putting you on speaker.

“touya! oh my goodness, here i thought you were going to end our friendship! what’s going on, why have you been ignoring me?” your sweet voice rang through, it felt like he could see your small cute pout as you said that, hand on hip attempting to look serious.

“i would never, i’m sad you would think that.” touya chuckled.

“yeah well, ignoring me for 16 days is really something, you know?!” you laughed.

“my deepest apologies, you can burn me at the stake if you truly want to.” touya responded smugly.

“i would but that seems like it would turn you on.” you scoffed, he laughed in response.

“alright then, but you won’t get to know why i called you.” touya sighed playfully.

“do tell oh great touya takamani!” you said with faux respect.

that was the last name he told you, the one the government gave to him. they allowed him to keep his first name since not many people remembered him at touya anyways, as well as to allow him to keep at least some part of his identity.

“listen, you’re like really stupid sometimes, and it gets me angry sometimes. you talk way too much and you love spoiling movies for me.” touya stated.

shoto looked at him confusingly, touya flinched as he realised he was just insulting you and you were remaining silent.

“wait- i- ugh, i didn’t meant it like that. i had this whole other part to it but…” touya stammered.

“it’s ok, i know you didn’t mean it. you’re terrible at talking about your feelings but, i’ll be patient with you, i always will be.” you said calmly.

shoto looked at touya shockingly, he had met you once or twice and understood… the physical attraction to it. but hearing you talk to his brother in such a fashion made him realise where touya’s love for you come from.

touya’s own heart fluttered tremendously at that, you were always paitent with him. even now when he has ignored you for over two weeks and you never shouted or screamed, you just, waited.

“i just mean that, those traits are things i don’t even hate. i love them, and you, i love it all.” touya blurted out, his legs bouncing with anticipation while shoto gave a thumbs up.

“aw, you’re so sweet! i love you too, touya!” you responded.

“no, i mean it as though, i love you… romantically. i want to go on dates with you and take you to your favourite places and think of a future with you. in fact, i don’t even care what we do, i just want to be near you while we do those things. i.. don’t exactly understand how these things go, ive never been in a relationship or have seen a successful one other than my brother’s friends but even then i don’t really see them. i’m willing to try, as long as im yours, im willing to do anything you want me to.” touya had explained, his gruff voice softening out as he spoke.

as he spoke, it felt like you could see the starts twinkle in his eye, the ones that only show themselves when he looks at you with that look. full of love and hope, with his heart raw and beating on his sleeve. yeah, you could imagine it vividly.

and you hated it.

you hated how you can see him gazing in his house dreaming of a future with you, or how you can imagine his blushing while thinking of you, or those moments in work where his eyes are stuck on his figure and you pretend to not acknowledge it.

because you did not want him to think of you that way, you never desired to be his and you never held out hope of you two being together past friendship.

and you didn’t care if that hurt him.

“touya, i hope you’re not serious.” you laughed pitifully.

shoto and touya froze.

“i-i am?” touya responded slowly, as though he knew what was coming. he was in the danger zone and the alarm bells with ringing violently as he pretended that they were just precautionary measures.

“i know that you’re dabi.” was all you said in response.

touya’s eyes widened, his breathing quickened and his hand ran through his white messy hair.

“you do? damn i was-“

“don’t play this off as a joke. listen, i didn’t care that much when i first learned a couple months ago. i valued our friendship despite your past, but expecting a relationship between us is downright delusional. even if i were to give you a chance, it would never last. that war you started because of your own daddy issues caused a lot of my families death and financial issues, i can respect the change in behaviour and i don’t mind keeping you as a friend but i could never love a villain.” the sting of your venomous words seeped into touya’s bloodstream and stopped the rhythmic beat of his heart.

he felt dizzy and lost, he heard you speak again but it became a blur as his vision started to blur from the sting of tears the bullied its way out of his eyes.

touya was angry, sad, heartbroken and anything else under the sun. worst of all? he couldn’t even blame you. you were well within your right to reject him for that reason and he hated that.

the familiar bubbling started to boil in his gut again, his default emotion to any bad situation that was all consuming and ever so comforting in its perverse ways.

it was like a hug from his father, Lord knows that he never received that when he was younger much but the one time he did, the one time affection was shown to him, it felt like this. touya felt like everything he ever despised, all the darkness within his enveloped him within its grasp.

it was reliable, trustworthy and never lied him.

love wasn’t, it was sickening and tight on the heart. it was faulty and pretended to be there for you in times of need, but, like everything in life, was just a trick that got him vulnerable enough to make him tick.

touya finally locked back into reality, realising now that shoto and you were arguing. he has never seen his stoic brother that angry, but he didn’t know why. why would he defend the very villain that ruined his childhood? dabi was the very thing he seeked to destroy and it’s not like dabi and touya were that seperate.

touya was just dabi with a false sense of security.

“it’s fine, honestly. sorry for bothering you y/n, hang up sho’” touya suddenly spoke.

shoto hung up the phone quickly, placing it down as he looked at his brothers eyes. once full of life, stars and love looking exactly like it did eight years ago.

“are you-“

“i’m fine.” no he wasn’t, of course touya wasn’t, but what more could he do.

he shouldn’t have broken his promise, he should’ve stayed away and listened to dabi - the anti romantic voice in his head telling him to stay away.

because now touya realised now more than ever, that while it hurts be something, it was worse to be nothing with you.

[thecrybabydiaries]

If I could, please let me share with you about my favorite Disney character, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.

This cute little fucker was introduced (to me and I believe the masses) in the video game, Epic Mickey for Wii. If you have not played this game, I HIGHLY suggest it - there’s a remastered version available on different consoles or go OG and play on the Wii.

Oswald was first introduced by the man himself, Walt Disney when he was working for Universal Studios back in 1927. His first major role was in Trolley Troubles (September of 1927). Now, I won’t go over every detail but I WILL link you to the wiki and a video on YouTube I found if you’re interested. It’s important to note this a highly abridged history to give the broad strokes of an interesting piece of Disney history.

Now, Walt didn’t have Disney Company yet and was working for Universal Studios at the time. In 1928, Walt told Universal he was leaving, taking Oswald (his own creation) and his team of animators. Universal said, no. You’re not. We own all of it. Walt was kinda fucked. So being told to pound sand, he leaves and creates what would become the most iconic cartoon character known, Mickey Mouse.

(Fun fact; his name was originally Mortimer Mouse by Walt’s wife said that was not fitting so Walt changed it to Mickey.)

(Another fun fact; over the years with Universal, Oswald was in over 194 movies!)

So! Years pass, Mickey is an instant hit and becomes a legend in the cartoon world. And our poor sweet Oswald fades from the spotlight as Universal and Disney fight over the spotlight, with Mickey coming in first place.

While Oswald was with Universal Studios, it’s worth mentioning (briefly) they changed his appearance and it’s… different. But like every character (including the iconic mouse), he was changed and “tweaked” to better fit technology and what people enjoyed seeing. (Personally? I like his 1928 and 2010 versions best!)

(h/t to Dave Lee Down Under’s own video for this image)

In 2006, Bob Iger decided he wanted to get Oswald back so Buena Vista studios could use him for a game they were working on (well go over this really soon!). And in a delightful turn, Universal said, we want Al Michaels (a real life sports commentator). Bob said, great! We want Oswald back. Universal said fine. And Al Michaels, a flesh and blood human, was traded for a cartoon character. He’s spoken favorably about it and finds the whole exchange a bit funny (which, honestly? It is!)

So fast forward to 2010 when Oswald finally makes it back the screen and into my heart (and the hearts of many!) in the video game, Epic Mickey. It centers around this relationship of Oswald being jealous and resentful of Mickey for “taking the spotlight” and leaving Oswald to fade into the background. It’s a really well done game and the mechanics are just *chef’s kiss* Again, I highly recommend it. I won’t spoil anything but he’s obvious to say he brings himself back into the spotlight and we owe that to Bob and the team at Buena Vista studios.

Naturally, Oswald’s popularity sky rocketed after this and he’s got special merch including pins, hats, clothing, etc. In a very appropriate twist, he got a large new merch drop for Disney’s 100 year celebration. He’s not quite as popular as his brother, but he’s more popular now than… ever?

He’s made appearances all over from Disney video games (Disney Infinity 2.0, Epic Mickey 1 and 2, and Dreamlight Valley) to new shorts like “Get a Horse!”

He even has his own service station at the Land in California that sells exclusively Oswald merchandise and it’s on my bucket list. (Literally no one is surprised by this.)

He’s even made some park appearances over the years but has not been stateside since 2017.

He WAS at Hong Kong Disney in January 2023 for Disney’s 100 Years Celebration. Now we just need him to visit the state parks. But really, the overseas parks get all the best stuff!

Please, Bob. I’m begging. Please, bring my baby to the world. Just once.

I don’t think it’s unfair to say that Oswald walked so Mickey could run and I think Oswald deserves SO much more credit for paving the way for his younger brother but I also understand this was embarrassing for Disney (the man and the company). The lost the rights to their first character. That’s… rough. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles, I’m afraid. Or the rabbit… runs? I don’t know. And now he’s home again and we should celebrate!

BUT ANYWAY! Now you know the highlights of his career so… do with that what you will!

Oh, and his copyright expired in January 2023 and now he’s considered public domain so. There’s that too. Anyway, thanks for following me down this rabbit hole. (I’ll see myself out, thanks.) That’s probably why he’s not in any parks. 😢)

There’s also a horror movie based on Oswald called “Oswald: Down the Rabbit Hole” by Lilton Stewart III coming (I believe) in 2026. This is going to star Ernie Hudson as well!

Disney Horror is also another rabbit hole I could fall down, as it’s quite interesting itself. Maybe another day.

[sibyllinebooks]

hi!! part two of the jealous stiles thing. please.

ohohoho *rubs my evil little hands together* i am SO glad you asked

stiles is tired. he was distracted the whole time at practice and he still can’t seem get the image of that guy flirting with you out of his head. it’s this thought that causes him not to notice you as you’re standing on the side of the lacrosse field, fiddling with your hands, until he practically runs into you.

“oh, hey.” his greeting is casual and his tone questioning, not like the usual playful smile and exuberant tone you’re so used to receiving but you decide it’s just because he’s not used to you being at school so late.

“hey. so my car totally died on me and my parents are stuck at work. can you give me a ride home?” your tone is sheepish, hesitant to ask since he’s been so unlike the usual stiles you know all day. but everyone else was already gone and you had no other choice.

how could he deny you?

“yeah. yeah, i’ll give you a ride home.”

your shoulders sag in relief as you both head to the familiar blue jeep in the parking lot. you’re both quiet as you walk but you’re almost certain you see him open his mouth and close it again several times, almost as if he wants to say something but then decides against it.

“so, the new guy thinks he wants to try out for lacrosse.”

it’s your attempt at starting a conversation but the comment has the opposite of your desired effect. you can hear his quiet scoff as he throws his lacrosse gear in the back and you turn your head as you climb in the passenger seat, catching his eyes that are full of an emotion you think is anger. or maybe annoyance. whatever it was, you knew it was unhappy.

“okay, seriously stiles? what is going on with you? you’ve been a total jerk all day and you’re barely speaking to me. did i do something?”

his gaze softens and you could swear that there’s remorse in the lines of his eyes as he looks at you. and he hates himself for making you think that he’s upset at you. for holding you at arms’ length when you had nothing to do with the new guy hitting on you. his ire could never be directed at you, especially not for this.

“no. ‘course not. just think it’s a little strange that this guy is here all of two seconds and already aiming for a date with the first girl he sees.”

your brows raise and he catches it, his face morphing into that embarrassed look you know so well as he sputters his next words.

“not- not that i mean he shouldn’t ask you out. i mean, if it were me and i had you offering to show me around, i’d ask you out too.”

“okay.” you purse your lips slightly, still not fully understanding what his problem is.

“i don’t say yes to dates with guys i just met, by the way,” are your next words as you look over at him. “i like to get to know someone first.”

his hair is still damp with sweat, one hand on the wheel of his jeep and the other resting on his leg as he sighs. you’ve never seen anyone be more attractive, never been more attracted to stiles as you are in this moment. he looks like a god, one you’d happily worship if he let you. ( on your knees. )

it takes a moment for your brain to fully process what his earlier statement implied, realization setting in your bones.

“wait. are you saying you’d ask me out?”

“depends on if you’d say yes. but you just said you don’t go on dates with guys you just met.”

“it’s a good thing i didn’t just meet you, then.”

the only sound is the way his breath hitches and his gaze becomes something you can only describe as predatory. like he wants to eat you alive, devour you whole. and that makes something in you snap.

you don’t say a word as you place your lips on his.

he wastes no time reciprocating, his hands finding your body and he tugs you, gently, from the passenger seat and into his lap. your hands thread through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck. the way he kisses you is possessive, hungry, his hands holding your hips hard enough to bruise and you wish you’d known that all it would take for stiles to kiss you was someone else flirting with you.

you pull away breathless, his gaze causing shivers to run down your spine and set your body on fire.

“maybe i should make you jealous more often if it means you’ll kiss me like that again.”

“i’ll kiss you like that whenever you want.”

the confession makes your heart melt. and you can tell he means it, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the center of his world. you recognize it because it’s the way you’ve always looked at him and the way he used to look at lydia. you just never thought you’d see it towards you.

“i’m holding you to that.”

[4ever2000lover]

THE FIRST DUEL (AND MEETING)

Magnolia first saw Sebastian when she entered the Great Hall for the first time. Her hair was a little disheveled and her dress was worn, giving her a haggard and exhausted image, very different from her everyday self. All the students were looking at her, including Sebastian.

In fact, Magnolia didn't even notice him much, since he was just one of the thousands of faces that watched her walk through that great hall. Sebastian didn't pay much attention to her either, he was just surprised that a student had been admitted to Hogwarts so late, and when she was sorted into the Huffflepuff house he honestly thought she wouldn't be a big deal, that she wouldn't be anything special.

However, he was very wrong.

The first contact between these two happened in DADA class. Magnolia was very shy and nervous, and Sebastian noticed that.

She had entered the room at the moment when Leander almost crushed Sebastian by ‘accidentally’ dropping a dragon skull. For them, it was just another Tuesday, but the girl was very distressed when she saw it. Her expression was one of pure anxiety and she clutched her hands to her belly. “Of course.” he thought. “Being the new student at a school like Hogwarts must be very terrifying. Even more so when you don’t know anything.”

“Poor girl.” Sebastian thought.

He didn't deny feeling sorry for her, imagining how defenseless she was and how afraid she would be if she had to duel someone as experienced and strong as him. When Professor Hecate suggested that Magnolia duel someone out loud, Sebastian glanced at the professor, silently saying that he would like to volunteer. Magnolia's eyes widened, very surprised.

He wasn't the type to do charity work. Usually, he wouldn't even get close to someone he didn't consider a worthy rival, but given his current family situation, Sebastian put his ego aside a bit. 'Out of compassion.’

Sebastian walked calmly to his post, passing by the girl. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that she was cute and let out a smirk. “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome.”

Not even he could tell if this was flirting or if he was making fun of her. Or both. Regardless of what it was, the girl’s cheeks reddened and this made everything even more ridiculous to her.

Magnolia was very serious and her face was frowning. Even so, she was still pretty and Leander commented on this in a whisper, “Just don’t hurt this pretty little face, Sallow.” followed by a low laugh.

Magnolia and Sebastian then took their posts, at the dueling table. And before they could begin, Sebastian decided that he would go easy on her and not make her get thrown off the table. Making her fall would be enough.

“You can breathe, newbie,” he said to her, face to face. “I won’t hurt you, I’ll take it easy.” Magnolia just nodded, standing more firmly in a more than formal manner. This was a sign that she hadn’t dueled much and that she was inexperienced.

“Alright! Duelists, get ready!” Professor Hecate said. She didn’t start any counting, just giving them a nod for them to begin. Sebastian was about to cast his first attack spell when Magnolia surprisingly shouted out more than three defense spells all at once. Not a second passed without her shouting words in Latin loud and clear. The girl cast spells like a dragon spitting fireballs; she was too intense and energetic, without any fear at any time. She moved too much and kept her arm too stretched and stiff. Even so, she gave Sebastian a hard time, who was frightened to see how precise she was with such simple spells. Using a Leviosa, she knocked him to the ground about five times and even used it on herself to dodge the attack spells. This maneuver surprised even Professor Hecate.

Sebastian was caught off guard by all that show, and when he least expected it, he was mercilessly thrown off the dueling table with a strong Depulso. Part of the audience applauded for the champion while the other part whispered about Sebastian's surprisingly quick defeat.

Sebastian got up from the floor with a strong feeling of shame and a sense of stupidity. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Losing so easily to a girl who had barely started dueling... “By Merlin, what the hell!?” he thought.

His body ached and his head even more, making him remember times when he dueled with his twin sister Anne. She used to be the only one to beat him in duels, until now. "Ugh, my head..." he whined. "Almost as bad as Anne was..."

At that moment, someone approached him quickly. When he turned to see who it was, he didn't want to admit the surprise he felt.

“Hum, are you alright…?” Magnolia asked. She had a very worried expression, even more than the Professor Hecate should have. Her doe eyes looked at him genuinely and her hand was stretched out to him, even though he had already gotten up from the floor. “I’m truly sorry, really! I…” she said, her tone of voice a little distressed.

Was she making fun of him? No, she wasn’t.

Sebastian wished she was, so he would know how to react. He looked at her hand stretched out in front of him and felt his face burn with embarrassment. Not because she had brutally beaten him (he deserved it for underestimating her) but because she had been so delicate and polite to him even though she didn’t know him well. This didn’t match anything she had shown herself to be at that dueling table and it scared him.

“He! No - I’m fine, yes - I am!” he blurted out this awkward and inappropriate sentence as if he were a child. He was embarrassed, in fact. He coughed and tried to regain his confident posture. “Well, not bad for a beginner! You give as good as you get…” Sebastian rubbed his hands on his robe as he nodded proudly at her, even though inside he was feeling the opposite. He walked to the corner of the room to sit down for a while and recover from the headache he felt. It was more of a psychological pain than a physical one for him, since his ego had been partially hurt the moment those rounded pairs of green eyes looked at him.

However, he wasn't angry or resentful towards her. No.

A person like that he should keep close to him, in case he needed her. She wasn't as good as him, but she had great potential, more than anyone in her house had. It made him think that she would be a fun addition to the school's secret Dueling Club, since the last member had been admitted two years ago.

But first, he had to treat that damn headache...

Ok, guys! This was my first tentative to write about them. I wanted this to be as close to what happens in the game as possible, with a few additions to make the scene more interesting.

Hope you enjoyed if you read all of this and please be kind if you have some opinion about this.

[blainehasregrets]

I agree so much, you explained perfectly the dynamic between them that Blaine was aware of, and why it’s significant that Blaine would wait until Kurt had lost the hero worship of him to confirm his feelings. We even see it in NBK, when Blaine decides to buy Kurt lunch after Kurt talks about Karofsky being his first kiss with a guy, offering him friendship which is what Kurt needed the most. Instead of what Will does that same episode, where he kisses Beiste. I mean…the Will thing was meant to be a positive thing in canon lol but I think it says a lot that Blaine didn’t go that route.

And I hope you don’t mind me adding to the “they truly see each other” comment! But to interpret the Blaine and the pips line, or even “I know that today we need to practice doo whopping behind Blaine as he sings every solo in the medley of Pink songs”, as if they were meant to hurt or offend Blaine is just a fundamental misunderstanding of Blaine’s character. Those lines aren’t there for us to feel sorry for Blaine, they’re there to tell us why he loves Kurt.

Because Kurt is someone who’s really opinionated and isn’t afraid to tell someone how he feels, even if it can come across as blunt or rude. Blaine’s expressions after Kurt makes these comments aren’t meant to convey that he’s offended or put off by them, he’s actually a little impressed and starting to realize “oh, Kurt’s not afraid to tell me what he thinks.” And he likes that Kurt can be mean to him, and that he can be brutally honest. There’s even a bell toll after the Blaine and the pips comment that represents Blaine seeing Kurt in a new light. These lines are put in this episode where he confesses to Kurt, and not any other episode, for a reason! These comments and Blackbird (which represented Kurt’s needs for freedom and independence, which in Special Education Blaine tried to give Kurt advice to help him fit in, but he actually genuinely loves that Kurt is unique and doesn’t fit in, one of his last lines in the show is telling Kurt “you’re the only one.”) both work to show that Blaine loves the real Kurt, not just any person who’s willing to give him endless praise or assimilate easily into Dalton.

And being seen in a two way street because while Blaine starts seeing Kurt in a new light, but he also feels like Kurt is seeing him for who he is. It’s important that this episode comes after SLS and BIOTA, because that’s when Blaine’s image start to crack a little. In SLS he admits he’s only just pretending to know what he’s doing, and BIOTA is meant to show that Blaine is more than just the image Kurt had of him in his mind. And when Kurt treats Blaine like a person instead of perfect Warbler Blaine that he needs to impress, Blaine feels like Kurt’s seeing through the perfect image of him for who he really is.

And yeah, Blaine loves attention lol, but we see with the Warblers, who he leaves because he wants to go to school with Kurt, Sebastian, who he never dates, or even Tina! that mindless worship isn’t something he necessarily wants. He felt stuck at Dalton for a while, in his very first appearance in NBK he tells Kurt he felt like he ran away to Dalton, and in SLS he calls the Warblers out for being privileged porcelain birds. Kurt mentioning that he thinks Blaine gets too many solos is something Blaine likes because it challenges him, and he admires that Kurt is someone who feels restless at Dalton because he’s felt the same way.

I think if you choose to read and interpret the “Blaine and the pips” comment as Kurt just being baselessy rude and Blaine graciously not getting offended at him you essentially get rid of a far more positive and interesting read of not just Blaine himself but the core of their relationship.

Before OS, Kurt and Blaine are mentor and mentoree, idol and fan - there’s a very clear power dynamic present that Blaine is aware of and careful not to exploit. He gets to know Kurt at the lowest point of his life, where even a gesture as small and friendly as inviting him to have coffee has Kurt tearing up. Blaine choosing not to pursue Kurt is almost chivalrous in this context, because Kurt is emotionally mallaeable at this time and desperate for a friend who truly understands him, especially knowing the events of Grilled Cheesus (where his friends actively chose faith over his own wishes, even if what Mercedes wanted to give him was community rather than faith) and Duets (where he is treated as something so unsightly and uncomfortable to be around even just singing with him for two minutes would be enough reason for social ridicule - there is significance to him having to sing a duet by himself). It is also possible, from Blaine’s point of view, that Kurt is only crushing on him because he is the first other gay person his age he’s met. Choosing to pursue someone under these conditions WOULD be almost exploitative.

Part of why I believe this to be the case is him seeking out Burt in Sexy - he thinks Kurt is someone easily influencable because at this time, he can only base off how Kurt acts around a potential love interest by his own experiences with him. There is no other attainable cute gay boy to crush on so he could gauge how much is Kurt’s personality when trying to impress someone, how much of it is just Blaine being the first person who can be flirted with without terrible consequences or him actually being Kurt’s type.

Blaine needed Kurt to stop idolizing him so that he could break his self-imposed gentleman code of conduct and actually confess - this is why Kurt treating Blaine as he would any of his other friends (remember, they have been pretty inseparable for quite some time now, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities that even Blaine could pick up on Kurt’s obvious favoritism) has significance and why it is only after this comment (and Blackbird) he finally wills himself to confess, because they’re finally equals and for the first time they truly see each other for each other.

[puppppppppy]

me when the laikas comet. is this anything

@laikascomet