#going to watch endgame today

[mythvoiced]

-. OH to be a rich south korean man standing in front of a tall-ass window, completely still with my hands in my expensive pockets, staring out at nothing and having a bad time because some other character is not letting me do whatever it is i damn want even though I Am The Man™

[jonathanbyersphd]

I hate u stupid fake-ass St*ve/Nancy/Jonathan "love triangle" that only exists to bring drama and engagement to the show bc the ga is too smolbrain to realize there's an actual love triangle in the background

[ginalinettiofficial]

in case anyone was wondering it’s nearly five am and i’ve spent all night reading fucking icarly fanfic as if it’s not 2023 so like that’s where IM at today

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

Something I find funny today:

I idled in Radz-at-Han a lot, over the course of Endwalker's life. I liked the day and night themes, and I loved how lively the city felt, with people arriving at the aetheryte and running off to whatever business they had there. It felt natural to go there, hit up the endgame gear vendors, then hang out by the retainer bell in the aetheryte plaza, people watching. And if I needed the market board, I would port back to Dusk's house, rather than go to Sharlayan, a place I just do not vibe with.

I HATE going to Solution 9. I dart in, spend my tomestones/books/whatever and then L E A V E. I hate how sterile the city is, I hate the droning lo-fi theme, I hate the immobile crowd of crafters all facing away from each other as they mindlessly grind their scrips (even as I understand it, I promise <3). I hate all the NPCs still wearing those goddamn regulators. I can't stop thinking about how awful I found the place during the MSQ, how the only place that felt alive to me in the entire place is the seedy area where the raids are. It's dystopian as fuck to me.

And when I need a marketboard ... half the time I port to Tuliyollal. Because that place is alive, it has day and night themes, the mass of crafters there get up and move more than once in a blue moon because they're mostly still leveling, so are running off to hand in leves or get their new class quest or what have you, while other people run by to whatever business they have there.

And I love that, I love that Solution 9 gets such a visceral reaction out of me, this long after I first arrived there. If it's supposed to feel Wrong - and I have every reason to believe it is, of course - they did a fantastic job of making it Wrong and keeping it Wrong, even with people doing their little MMO endgame tasks in it. And I love that Tuliyollal is such a stark contrast to it, long after the MSQ stops pointing it out to us.

[callofdudes]

What are you reading?? Part 2

A/N: So... It blew up, I didn't expect that to happen. And most of you wanted a part 2, so I made a part 2. You can find part one here.

CW: Sexual stuff. I don't know what I'm doing

Summary: After the boys find you reading a smut book, they take it upon themselves to tease you. This is the result of the boys teasing you.

After your meeting with Price your interaction with Johnny had sort of been forgotten. You still keep your book close as you walk back to your room for the evening, intent on getting some rest after the long day.

When you step into your room, you are surprised to see Johnny sitting on your bed.

"Hey, this is my room, Johnny."

Johnny hums. "I know." He motions you over and you hesitantly sit next to him. "Still got that book hey?" He snatches it from you.

"Johnny! Give my book back!"

You fight to grab it, pushing him against the bed and reaching for it. He chuckles, having you so close.

"You cheeky little-"

Johnny slips out from under you with the book. "Sorry sweetheart." He grins, his hand coming down and slapping you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise. "You've had your turn with this."

You turn around just as the door closes but you aren't sure what the hell to do. You just stare, blush forming across your face and your heart melts.

Johnny is actually just teasing you, I literally had no endgame for his... I tried to write one though

It was late when you finish your paperwork. You're tired and sore from sitting down all day despite how comfortable your office chairs are.

Finally, you signed the last piece of paper and stood, stretching out your sore muscles.

Now... Time to go try and get your book back from Price. Wouldn't that be a lecture? You hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier, it made your heart pound in your chest.

You got to his office and knocked on the door. "Captain? Can I come in?"

"It's open."

You opened the door and slipped inside, Price had a cigar in his mouth and was idly sitting there relaxing.

"I uh... I finished my paperwork and I'd like my book back."

Price took a long drag of his cigar and looked at you. He motions you over, so you came. Price contemplates it. "Did you work hard Princess?"

Your insides drop.

"Yes Captain, I finished my paperwork." You try to ignore it but the things it did to you makes you feel utterly filthy.

John's free hand reaches your hip and strokes it with his thumb. He motions you down on his lap. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest. You maneuver to straddle him, all the heat in your stomach plunging further.

Price continues to rub your hip.

"Can't decide if you've been a good girl or not today, reading all those... Things."

You suddenly feel very inclined to make things better. Your heart leaps, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Captain." It comes out strained, trying to keep your breathing together.

Price continues to smoke his cigar as you kiss up his throat and down his collar.

He pulls you back gently and hums. "You've been a very good girl today, we all make mistakes darlin'"

"You've made daddy very happy. I think you deserve a reward."

You whine, that finally doing it too you. "Price!" You bury your head in his neck, hips pivoting and grinding against his thigh.

"Good girl. Tell me what you want sweetheart."

Your breaths come out jagged as you slide down to your knees and tug at his belt. Price chuckles.

He presses out his cigar and undoes his belt for you. You pry open his zipper and kiss along his stomach. Price's hand strokes the back of your head when you pull out his cock.

"That's it," he coos. "take daddy's cock like a good girl."

You whine, kissing his length and taking him in your mouth. His hand curls in your hair, letting you have a moment before gently guiding you down on his length.

He groans deeply, watching you choke when you reach his base. "There you go, such a good girl for daddy."

You come back up, choking on spit. He lights up another cigar while you bob your head down the Captain's length. Price watches you, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He brought you back down all the way and kept you there, watching you choke and swallow harshly. He grins and takes another drag.

Price did not let you leave his office until you had fully earned the rights to your book back in full.

I don't trust myself to write smut guys, I'm sorry if it's weird

Gaz stayed close to your ear as you read. Word after word. You read about each scene, the ideas of the lewd acts leaving an imprint on you.

Gaz's warm hands trailed down your collarbone. You tried to read, your breathing getting heavy.

"And he- Kyle-!"

Kyle kissed your lobe, hands sinking under your shirt. You whined for the touch but Gaz wasn't going to have it. "Keep reading sweetheart."

"Not like this-"

He pinches and twists your nipples. "Read it sweetheart." His tone remains smooth as honey as delicate as a flower, but his actions are commanding, telling you to read.

You gulp and keep reading, even as his hands groped and play, making your insides hurt so good.

You whimpered, shuddering when you flipped the page. Gaz's hands trailed back up your shirt and he rounded the couch. Finally you could see his handsome face in front of you.

"Kyle-"

"I doubt my name is in that book." He kneels in front of you, and you can see the bulge in his pants.

He pushes your knees apart gently with his hands and slowly pulls off your pants. You keep reading, your voice growing shaky and stumbling over words In anticipation of his next move.

Your bottom half completely exposed, Kyle moved forward, sinking two fingers into your cunt.

You gasped and moaned.

"Oh please, please Kyle-"

He slaps you gently, removing his fingers.

Tears start to fill your eyes, trying to read. Just two more pages, just two more pages. But you didn't want it to end.

You recapture your thoughts as much as you can and continue. As you as you start, so does Kyle, sinking in and pressing his tongue between your legs.

You jump, shifting your hips in excitement. Kyle keeps you steady, working you unwound so effortlessly.

You gasp and pant through your words, shaking and moaning loudly. Your thoughts begin to slur together with each stroke of his tongue.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, stretching you nicely around him while his tongue teases your clit with fast flicks.

You manage to finish the chapter and toss the book on the couch. You throw your head back and moan, pressing your hands through Kyle's hair.

"Kyle- more, more, more!!" He brings you undone so effortlessly. You rake your fingers over his scalp, canting your hips up against him in pleasure.

Kyle hums happily, sucking your clit. "Good job sweetheart." He mutters.

Everything feels hot and dizzy when you reach your limit, spasming and coming.

You pant, head heavy and empty. He laps at your spend and kisses your clit, making you jerk your hips.

Kyle kisses up your stomach. "You did so well for me sweetheart." He whispers. "Good girl."

You whimper when he leans over you, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

"Now, get comfortable. If you don't come a second time before they get back, I'll let them watch."

You slip into Ghost's room, the darkness making your skin crawl. The barren walls and the simple bed in the corner.

You reach the middle of the room and Ghost was back behind you, guiding you to the wall and pressing himself up against you.

"Should have known you'd come here for more."

His hand strokes your throat, pulling your head back and locking his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive spots under your jaw.

You moan, hands curling into fists against the cold wall.

"Ghost..." You whimper.

He grunts, rutting his hips down against you, holding you perfectly still like a doll. You gasp and fight for air in your lungs, your insides betraying how you should be feeling.

"You into this shit?" He asks, voice raspy against your ear.

"Please, please Ghost-"

He growls and presses you closer to the wall, his hand grabs your hip and arches your back.

Tears fill your eyes and you pull at his hand.

He scoffs. "You are into this shit."

He keeps you pressed against the wall though his hands leave you. You hear his belt buckle click and slide and it makes your heart race.

When he's ready he grabs your arm and turns you around. You look up at him, he grabs your shoulder and forces you down onto your knees.

"Ghost-"

"Shush. I didn't ask you to talk."

Tears slip down your cheeks, you inch closer and take his hard cock in your hand.

He watches you with his usual disapproving look as you take him into your mouth. You barely get halfway before you start to choke.

Ghost grabs the back of your head and forces you down. You choke and grab his thighs for support, more tears in your eyes.

He grunts. "You like this don't you? You and your weird fuckin' books."

You can't reply, trying to take Ghost as best you could.

He tugs your hair, rocking his hips against you. His hands slide down from your hair to your jaw. He cups your jaw and your neck, keeping you still while he uses you.

He went until your jaw was sore and all you could do was moan lazily.

"Fucking whore." He grunts, dragging the saliva on his cock over your bottom lip.

He forced you back up against the wall and wastes no time fingering you. It's not consistent or long, his fingers gone before you can enjoy it. He lines up his cock and is shoving into you. His girth stretches you wide and has you a moaning, melting mess. He shoves you further into the wall and your back arches. It's sloppy and his cock ruins your insides, your thoughts slurring until there was nothing left.

He kept his hand locked on your throat, watching you lose yourself with every thrust.

"Fuck-" he pounds into you, watching you writhe and whimper under him. He stretches you out and fucks you drunk on him.

And he was right, by the end of the night the story you'd read barely compared.

Alejandro came between your legs and stroked your chin. "Quieres tanto esto, ¿verdad? Quieres ser una puta sólo para nosotros."

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Rodolfo moves you out of your seat and forces you down gently onto the floor. You watch Alejandro stand over you, forced down on your hands and knees when Rodolfo leans over you.

He presses his chest to your back, hands groping your chest.

Alejandro undoes his belt and strokes your chin. It's all too much, watching Alejandro and feeling Rodolfo undoing his own gear and pulling down your pants.

"Se ve tan hermoso para nosotros como este." Rodolfo whispers in your ear.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Say the word amor, and we're all yours." Alejandro purred.

"Please... Please, yes." You whimper.

Rodolfo's hand pulls down your underwear, pushing two fingers into your entrance. You gasp and moan, arching into it.

Alejandro grabs your chin firmly and presses his cock to your lips. Rodolfo makes you moan, Alejandro fitting his thick girth down your throat.

Tears fill your eyes. Alejandro guides you along his cock while Rodolfo peppers your back in soft kisses, stretching you out nicely.

He is gentle with you, whispering sweet words in your ear and playfully squeezing your breasts.

Alejandro feels heat pool in his stomach watching his best friend treat you like that. "Mm, you gonna let Rodolfo ruin you?? You gonna let him use you amor?"

Your knees shake, hands balling into fists, hungry and eager.

Rodolfo retracts his fingers and lines up to you. He shares a glance with Alejandro before pushing in. It stretches and burns, his girth much thicker than you expected. And it makes you choke down on Alejandro.

They rock you back and forth. The soft front Rodolfo had put up soon gone as he pounds at an unholy pace deep inside of you.

"Fuck yes, letting us ruin you like this." Rodolfo growled. He fit you so nicely inside your walls. You come faster than you'd expected, clenching around Rodolfo and whimpering as you come.

It all went so fast, at some point Rodolfo had picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing and slammed you down on the desk. Alejandro purring with each rough stroke, Rodolfo rocking you against the desk.

"Mira lo que le has hecho a Alejandro, puta."

Alejandro is a mess, movements frantic and desperate. He has a tight hold on your throat when he finishes, head falling back as he slows.

Rodolfo holds out, making you gasp and moan loudly before he finishes soon after, leaving you a mess. Feeling warm and destroyed.

Alejandro sees the tired hungry glazing over your eyes. He smears the last of his spend across your lips.

"You won't be needing that book back my dear." Alejandro whispers in your ear.

A/N: I don't write smut often, and not for XReaders, but I knew what I was getting into so I did my best to make you a worthy part 2 with the criteria I was comfortable with. It's a bit awkward because it's not a whole fic, but I think it's ok. And I do hope you enjoyed it. Now I'm going to go write something fluffy to reclaim my soul.

[heythatismethecolorfulfriend]

Okay here I am again with some byler shit (okay today it's antimileven but 🫣)

Okay I was watching the scene during Will's Birthday in S4 and...

(sorry for the quality of the pictures)

Mike didn't grab her hand !!! Like that's been nearly a year since you didn't see your girlfriend (and your best friend) and when you go on a date after a year tour not even romantic in your gestures ?! Like excuse me but when I grab the wrist of someone this someone is usually a great friend not my partner !

And they want us to believe in Mileven endgame... Are you kidding me ?!

And voilà ! That's all I return to my goblin hole and will come back in months ! See you !

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: Today I stumbled upon a clip of literally just a very sweet, loving amateur couple having soft, gentle, playful and affectionate sex on a beautifully sunlit bed, and it just about knocked me speechless. I'm not a big consumer of porn, but I have watched this one ~15 minute clip at least four times by now, and every time, I keep imagining my character and Astarion, alone in the Elfsong on a late afternoon (between his personal quest and the endgame ofc). In my fiction, this is a rare lazy afternoon, and they just found themselves carried naturally away by enjoying the warmth, the intimacy, and each other while bathed by the golden rays of the slowly setting sun, for what seems like one of the last times they may share it. [The couple, they laugh and get a little silly, struggle with stubborn clothes, go slow and stop every now and then just to kiss and hold each other, and they touch each other with such infinite tenderness, you can clearly tell that they're in love- and while I feel almost a bit weird about projecting fictional characters onto them, a part of me kinda wants to have a little cry about just how well it fits my little fiction for those two. It's so simple, yet so beautiful, and so perfect. I'm not even turned on at this point, I'm just profoundly endeared and feeling weirdly emotional about porn. (The guy even does the leg hook thing at one point, and I swear to you, when I first saw it, I just about teared up.)]

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Four

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter needed to happen to expand the plot. Don't worry, smut is coming soon - like next chapter soon! BTW this was written after episode 7 of Helluva Boss, Full Moon events have not yet happened.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Four - The Meeting

Content Warning: none, but let me know if I missed any!

Husk said he didn’t think you liked surprises and boy was he right. 

Charlie screamed the second you entered the kitchen, thrusting a present box into your arms. You were pissed, having not slept, tossing and turning in the silence of the night. 

You really needed to find a radio - it’s music had lulled you to sleep in the past - but now you were hesitant. The radio was Alastor’s domain, and you didn’t know what kind of power the device would have now that he was back in Hell. 

It’s the same reason why you never got a cell phone - you didn’t want Vox tracking your whereabouts or having access to your video camera. It would be a lot easier to figure out who you were if you did. 

You used the new collection of syrups and powders to make real creations for the staff to enjoy. You had to admit, it was fun, and finally gave you a chance to make a jasmine latte to your liking - something you hadn’t had since your early days working at the cafe. 

Alastor was nowhere to be found. So he didn’t see the tension in your body as you ate breakfast. He didn’t see you slip out after Angel and Husk got into it over the news of the Porn Star’s employer - now officially revealed to be Valentino. He didn’t see you tiptoe to your room, lock the door, pull your leather armor and cloak from the Void and clean them before today’s meeting. 

You checked for his shadow of course, to see if he was watching, but for whatever reason, the darkness was still. 

Doning your black garb, you double checked the silver stitching around the hood of your cloak, ensuring the magic seal was still intact. A few loose strands caught your attention but nothing serious enough to disrupt the enchantment. 

Okay. You were going out. In broad daylight. To attend a meeting with the most powerful Overlords in Hell. 

What could go wrong? 

____________________________________________

“Ope! Ope! Ope! Ope!” 

You landed on the sidewalk in a pile of… eggs? 

They stopped their incessant noise making before turning to you, confused but intrigued by the smoke pooling at your feet. 

“Are you on fire?” 

“Why can’t we see your face?”

“You smell like jasmine.” 

“Can I touch your cloak?” 

Sir Pentious’ eggs. What were they doing here? 

You took the elevator to the penthouse - which was really weird. Normally you’d just fly to the top and take the terrace entrance in, but Carmilla Carmine was hosting and she had earned your respect. Not simply because she had invited you, but for the many things before. 

“...I’m sure you’ve all been wondering!” Alastor’s voice hits you at the same time as the static finds your skin. 

Fuck.

“Not really, but welcome back in any case.” You tried hard to hold back your snort as you rounded the corner, appearing at the entrance of the conference room. 

“Ah, you’ve made it,” Carmine gestures to you. 

All eyes flit to you, cementing you to the tile floor where you stood. You did your best to keep your eyes locked with Carmilla’s not wanting to send the wrong message with a wondering gaze. You weren’t here to challenge anyone, certainly not on your first day, you were here as a guest of Carmilla’s and to stake a claim to the seat which has been offered. 

They room falls silent before Zestial finally speaks up. “Tis this the infamous Shadow thou spoke of, Carmilla?” 

You bow your head to the Overlord - and you mean “The” Overlord for he was the first. You had never met him in person before, but you’ve heard of him. 

God, he was even more glorious in person. You could taste the power wafting off him from where you stood. 

“What the heck! What is he doing here?” Zeeze began to protest. 

The colors of her fur were wild enough to make you sick. 

“I invited him,” Carmilla answered dismissively as if it was obvious. Zeezee and a few of the other Overlords protested save for Rosie and Alastor. You didn’t dare turn to them, however, you couldn’t risk anyone in this room catching any hint of your relationship with the Queen of the Cannibals nor could you risk Alastor suspecting any familiarity. 

Fucking Alastor. You blocked out his gaze the most from your mind.  

“The Shadow has risen to power faster second to none other than Alastor himself.” She gestures to the Radio Demon whose eyes haven’t left your form. “He now holds enough souls to rival even your own count, Zeezee. He’s earned a spot at this table.” 

Ha. Fuck you. 

“This is the Shadow…” Rosie chimes in. “Ha! I thought he’d be taller.” She laughs from Alastor’s side. 

“Well then!” The Radio Demon’s smile reappeared, catching you off guard. It’s a really good thing they couldn’t see your hands shaking beneath the cloak. “Please, do take a seat!” He motioned with his microphone to a chair at the end of the table. A shadowed hand wrapped around the leg and pulled it out, inviting you to sit. Once the others saw Rosie and Alastor cave, they felt a bit more relaxed - not enough to drop their guard, however.  

Rosie’s eyes caught yours at the other end of the table. She gave you an imperceptibly small smile, fleeting so as not to attract too much attention. 

At least you had one ally in this room. 

“This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost,” a slide projector turns on behind her. “With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we…” The door slams inwards, a loud-mouthed Velvette barging into the meeting. 

God, it was good that you needed to keep yourself composed here, otherwise you’d rip her head off and burn it to ashes. Every interaction you had with her just pushed the line more and more. 

She hangs up the phone, turning to grab the back of your chair and… “What in the Hell is this!?” Velvette motions to you sitting in the chair. “What is this piece of trash doing, sitting in my seat!?”

Smoke began pooling at your feet, angrily twisting about itself in waves. 

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining us?” Carmilla ignored her. 

“What? No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent or I would be if this wanker would get out of my seat.” 

You didn’t move an inch. Moving would be yielding power to Velvette and you couldn’t let that happen. 

“Velvette, let me introduce you to the Shadow,” Carmilla motioned to you. 

Her red sclera flit between you and the weapons-dealing Overlord. “Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of name is ‘Shadow’ anyway?” She snorted. “This is so going on my Sinstagram. I can’t… Oh!” The purple phone explodes in her hand. 

You didn’t do that… 

Alastor laughs from his chair, “Oh my, what a mess you’ve made.” Her phone lay in a heap on the ground, electrical sparks flying every which way. 

Her tan skin turned a beat red, “Listen here you cock-sucking…” Her hand phases through your cloak as she attempts to grab you. She stands stunned, staring at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it herself. 

It was a cheap trick, but oh-so satisfying when it happened. No one could take the cloak off of you. Not unless you were dead or they knew who you were. 

You loved old magic. 

Velvette stood shell-shocked and speechless. 

No one stood up for you. No one intervened. They were all just as curious to see what you would do next. 

With a snap of your fingers, you pulled a chair from the Void, surrounding the materialization process with blue flame - just for flare. It was a dingy chair, metal and worn - nothing compared to the grand plush ones set aside for the other guests. That, however, was intentional. Summoning the chair wasn’t giving in to her tantrum, it was an insult in and of itself.

“Thank you, Shadow,” Carmilla nodded to you. “So, as I was saying, we need to discuss…”

Velvette uses the chair as a stepping stool, shooting daggers with her eyes at your face. She steps before you, her feet on the table, blocking your view of the room. 

Bitch. 

“On the subject of discussion…” She throws the severed head of an Exorcist across the table.

Oh, here we go! A dead Exorcist - if that didn’t speed up your plans you didn’t know what would! 

You watched as Velvette launched herself into a - obviously rehearsed - speech regarding an assault plan on Heaven. 

Ha! Vox and Valentino sure had big balls if they think they can take the fight to them. On the other hand, you would love to see that happen. They’d be squished before they even made it to the gates, turned into a pile of recycled electronics and whatever the fuck moths had - feathers? 

You’d find some way to take Velvette down personally. Take her out in the chaos with an angelic blade and blame it on the Exorcists of Heaven. You wouldn’t have the credit for the kill of course but did you really need that to begin with? 

The only reason you were sitting here, showing the world a face, assigning a name to your killings was because of Rosie. She was the one to convince you to take hold of the power you so rightfully earned when you were adamant about staying in the shadows. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself, though; the power you had in sitting here, seeing Velvette’s face turn red, was worth it. 

“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing mightn't, they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” Zestial chimed in. 

You chuckled deep and low, earning a glare from Alastor. 

“Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” She jumps into the Overlord’s face. “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for…”

“You better show some respect!” Carmilla interrupts Velvette. 

Ugh, Sinners were always so dramatic. This was like dealing with the Crimson Mafia but worse - they didn’t have some Gen Z spoiled brat to deal with. 

You took advantage of the distraction, using the time to study each of the Overlord’s without them knowing. Zeezee was a big… uh… Hell hound? Which didn’t make any sense since Hell hounds were Native born, but that was a mystery for a different day. 

The Von Eldritch representative was absent, but you’d never interacted with him before either. The unnamed Overlord sat to Zeezi’s right, silent and emotionless. Carmilla and her daughters you had already known for years. Zestial was… God, he was a dream. 

The Overlord dripped with power. You wondered, just out of curiosity and not actuality, what he would be like to fight. He seemed so elegant and refined, sitting there sipping his tea. Is his fighting style much of the same? Would he seduce you with his lethality? You had heard that lesser demons flee just upon the sight of him. What has he done to earn such respect? You wanted to know, you wanted to…

Static crawled its way up your spine, freezing your muscles and silencing your thoughts. You felt the air shift beneath your smoke - no, the shadows shift beneath your smoke. They were cold, like how a summer day’s temperature drops in the shade. You could feel them as they shifted beneath you, slithering against your robes.

Alastor. 

You looked up to find the Overlord peering down at you, both hands crossed, his chin resting in his palms. His eyes were half-lidded as they raked over your cloaked form, like he was analyzing you, like he could see straight through the smoke and shadows to you underneath. It made you feel vulnerable. It made you feel weak. 

You met his gaze, not letting his intimidation show. You sensed curiosity from the Overlord. Sniffing, you tried again to smell his emotion, but the room was filled with the iritation wafting off of Velvette and Carmilla - cinnamon. Ugh, you hated cinnamon. 

Your eyes narrowed at the red demon, hoping he moves his gaze, but when he doesn’t relent you decide to repay his stare with a wandering set of eyes of your own. 

He was lean, yet built - his broad chest forming an upside down triangle disappearing into a slim waist line. Donning one of his well-pressed suits and matching slacks. His sense of style was impeccable you had to give him that - but of course, Rosie dressed him and you loved everything she made. Even if she forced you into a dress. He wore gloves - he always wore gloves - but his hands though…

Images of his claws scraping across your cheek and down your skin come flooding back. A shiver runs through your core at the memory of his touch on your neck, the way he licked his lips at the sight of the blood pumping through your veins. Alastor turned ravenous at the thought of tasting you. Fucking cannibals. 

But the way you moaned? God, how embarrassing. You had never made a sound like that in your life. Where had it come from? Why had it happened? 

And why did you like it?

Why did you want him to squeeze harder, to drag your lips to his…

Stop! 

Your face heated at the thought. Alarmed, you pulled your gaze back into your lap, earning a small chuckle from the Radio Demon. 

Where the fuck did that come from!? Get your shit together! You’re supposed to be a badass Overlord in a very important meeting right now. There was no space for thoughts of Alastor and… NO. NOPE. NOT GOING THERE.  

Of course such a devious man would be so enticing! It’s probably how he claimed his victims up top. Get them to like him and smile at them. Maybe he flirted and twirled their hair, before taking their hand and luring them into the dark forest with promises of… NO! STOP IT!

Jesus Christ, it was a really good thing no one could see your face right now. 

Velvette suddenly appeared, her nose mere inches from yours, “This isn’t fucking over!” She jumped to the ground, kicking the chair you pulled from the Void into the wall. “Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers! Kiss my ass!” She flipped you all off on her way out. 

It was silent for a beat before Alastor chimed, “That was a productive meeting!” 

What part of that was productive? 

The Overlords all got up from their chairs and headed for the exit, you follow suit, a little saddened at the fact that this meeting went nowhere. You had such high hopes the moment Velvette pulled out the severed head. Ugh, guess you were going to have to continue with Plan A. 

“Shadow,” Carmilla called. Her and her daughters hadn’t yet moved from their spots. “May I call on you later?” Zestial stood next to her, finishing his tea. 

You nodded before…

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Alastor stepped into your path, his hand outstretched. “Alastor, pleasure to meet you.”

Your palm was far, far smaller in his grip than you had expected. If his hands were this big then did that mean his…

You stifle a cough, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Charmed.”

His eyes narrow. 

Oh, he noticed. 

“May I interest you in a drink? I see it impertinent to get to know someone such as yourself as we may be able to… benefit one another.” The edges of his smile curled. It made your stomach bubble with anxiety - not the same feelings as butterflies, you should point out. 

Your eyes drifted back to the room, finding Rosie absent. You knew Alastor was going to pay an interest in the Shadow once he was made aware of your presence. You had risen to power just as fast as he had - how could he not pay attention to you? You just didn’t expect it right off the bat. 

“Alastor is a respectable man,” Carmilla jumps in. “He can be trusted” Her eyes weighed heavily on you. She was throwing you a bone, trying to tell you what to do in this situation. 

Alastor respected only those who respected him. Insult him and he will show you no kindness -  Vox being the prime example. You weren’t prepared to take him on just yet, and if he ever found out who you really were, it would completely derail your plans. Besides, if you shut the door now, there was no telling if or when it was going to open again. Remember what you had decided last night at the bar: get to know the Radio Demon, throw him off the scent. 

Pulling the obsidian calling card from your breast pocket, you held it out to him. “A drop of scarlet beneath night’s mistress.” 

A drop of scarlet: blood. The night’s mistress: darkness. Anyone in possession of an obsidian calling card merely had to drip a single drop of their blood atop the card. That drop of blood was the tie in you needed to begin a deal with whomever summoned you. 

Only certain people carried those cards, those who you had bestowed the gift upon. Only once had a card fallen into the wrong hands - and ONLY once. You would never let that happen again. Which was why, from here on out, you needed to be picky with whom you entrusted these to. You didn’t know if you could trust the Radio Demon, but again you couldn’t let this door close. 

“Oh! How ominous.” He slipped the card into his jacket pocket as you exited the conference room, doing your best to ignore the pinpoint glare on the back of your head and the demon who held it. 

____________________________________________

SLAM! Velvette kicks the door open, stomping her way into Vox’s office. “That cock-sucking bastard! Who the fuck does he think he is!?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, continuing to click away on the computer monitor, “No, please Velvette come right in.” 

The brat demon slumped into a chair, her boots kicking up on the desk’s top. The female Vee reclined in the chair, a look of pure anger on her face. “He sat in my seat. My seat! And insulted me right in front of the Overlords of Hell!” 

“Uh-huh,” Vox feigned interest, continuing to click away. 

“And the Old-ass Hag let him! They all just sat there and let him! Where was the fucking respect!?” The Vee jumped to her feet, a thumb jabbed into her chest. “I’m Velvette - the Velvette. I’m a fucking Overlord! He’s just a glorified bed sheet with an attitude!” 

“Yeah,” Vox switched to a different browser - still not listening.

“He’s dead.” Velvette declared, climbing onto the desk. “He’s fucking dead the next time I see him.”

“That sounds nice,” Vox mindlessly added. 

“That sounds nice? What… What the fuck are you doin’?” The female Vee reached down and spun the monitor around. 

A thousand tabs were open, each containing different social media page profiles, image searches, or links to various surveillance cameras around town. 

Velvette shot the media demon a dumb look. “This is why you had to skip the meeting!? You’re still lookin’ for that girl, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Vox pretended to look offended. “No! I’m not… I mean… Why would I…?” His words trailed off at the sight of Velvette’s irritated face. “Maybe.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Give me your phone,” she held out her hand. 

“Use your own phone!” The media demon snapped.

Velvette’s glare turned lethal. “You do not want to mess with me today, princess. Give me the goddamn phone!” 

Vox knew better than to argue with the female Vee when she was in a mood. 

Handing over the device, he watched as she clicked across various different media sites before she paused on one in particular. All in all she took about three minutes total of searching before she turned the device around.

And there you were. Hidden amongst a million photos of bugs and random blurry pictures of red ceilings and floors was you in Angel’s arms. 

“How the Hell…” Vox reached for his phone, staring dumbfounded at the photo.

Velvette smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye, “Guess where your mysterious Alley Girl is staying…” 

Vox read the page name, his one eye blinking red with rage, “Alastor…”

____________________________________________

“The Vees are going to be a problem,” Carmilla pondered, one hand wrapped around her chin. 

“I agree,” you growled from your place atop the terrace. The night was colder than expected - perhaps an ominous omen of what was to come. 

“What do you suggest, Mother?” Odette chimed from the chair. Her sister silent and still as always. 

“I suggest we do nothing,” she shrugged, “but wait and watch. If the Vees want to take up arms against the Angels they will not do so alone. We need to ensure that they stay alone.” At that, she eyed you. 

You knew what that meant - a lot of fucking nights at the V Tower listening to a whole lot of nothing. She needed you to play spy. Carmilla would do her part, of course, watching and learning using her own set of spies - she wasn’t one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell for her weapons business alone. 

You stood there and waited for her to name her price. Watching the Vees was in her best interest - not yours. She didn’t know that, but she knew you disliked them so and she knew your services weren’t free. They were never free. Finally, she laid down a number. You weren’t happy with it, but you also owed Carmilla for your seat at the table. Thus, you wouldn’t complain. 

Turning, you headed for the edge of the balcony, preparing to jump before she stopped you again. “I feel the need to explain myself.”

You had another place to be tonight and, of course, you were already late. 

You don’t turn back to her, expecting this to be brief. 

“My girls and I have known you from the beginning,” Carmilla began. From the corner of your eye, you watch Odette and Clara’s eyes grow big. “And although you don’t trust me anymore, know this. I do not do the things I do for you because of who you are, but because of who you have made yourself into.” 

Images of Clara’s blood and Carmilla’s screams fill your vision. You shake the memory away. 

“The last thing I wish to see is you harmed.” Her voice breaks. “I. Am. Sorry.”

Your eyes flit to Clara, yet the girl didn’t meet your gaze, guilt held in her tight-lipped mouth. 

You knew how sorry she was. You knew. 

You take off into the night. 

____________________________________________

From the shadows of the I.M.P office rose a figure clad in red. 

The imp working the desk jumped in shock, spewing coffee over the papers on his desk. “Holy shit! Mr. Radio… The Radio… Over… Demon Lord…”

“Alastor, is fine. Pleasure,” the demon smiled, his teeth and eyes practically glowing in the night. 

“Moxie! Millie! Fuck! Get in here!” He screamed at the door, sprinting to the otherside of the desk to pull out a chair. The wooden seat shoke in his arms, clacking against the floorboards. Even the Natives were afraid of him, it seemed. 

Two smaller imps burst through, but jumped back at the sight of the Overlord seated in front of Blitz’s desk. 

“The… The… Radio… De… Demon…” Moxie tried to speak from behind the cover of his darling wife, but words would not agree with him.

“Yes, yes,” Alastor waved. “I believe we’ve covered that part already, haven’t we?”

Blitz pulled out about fifty pens, only one making it into his hand and the other fourty nine spewing onto the floor. He ripped a few pieces of paper before finally pulling one free and set about writing notes. “What can we do ya’ for, your Overlordness?” He gave an awkward laugh, his elbow tipping the cup of coffee over on his desk. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Moxie get me a towel!”

The lesser imp and his wife disappeared from the room. 

“I need you to find someone for me,” Alastor purred, his hands resting atop his microphone. 

“Find someone… We don’t really do…” As Blitz talked, the green glare of Alastor’s aura began to fill the room. 

Blitz swallowed dryly, trying to think. “Yeah, Oh… Okay we can find someone for you. What’s their name?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor’s smile strained. He didn’t like not having the upper hand in any situation. Part of the reason why he was here, he needed more information. He needed leverage, just in case. 

“You don’t know…” Blitz rose an eyebrow. 

“What’s a hound got to do to get some sleep around…” A female Hellhound turned the corner, coming eye to eye with Alastor before slinking away, whining as she went. 

“No, I do not know, for they are already dead and do not go by their Christian name,” Alastor continued. 

“Already dead… What the fuck are you here for? We kill alive people.” Blitz was now thoroughly confused, but Alastor was having none of that. 

“I want information on who and what they did when they were alive,” His smile was strained against his teeth. His patience was being tested. 

“Why?” The imp asked. 

Wrong thing to say. 

“Oooooh, shit,” Blitz jumped behind his desk to shield himself from the growing mass that was Alastor’s demon form. “Okay! Okay!” The imp caved. “We’ll do whatever you want! We just need a name! Shit. Somewhere to start, at least!?” 

The Radio Demon shrank back, finally happy to hear some progress. It was getting harder and harder to contain his anger lately. 

“She goes by Thestral.”

-> Link to Chapter Five

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[buckets-and-trees]

Imagine Bucky coming home to see you wearing nothing but a red ribbon tied in a bow around your waist and can’t help but stare at you while licking his lips. You stand there and say “are you just gonna stand there or are you going to unwrap your present?”

Well...

Would you complain if I added one more thing to this little ask, too?

And this was undoubtedly meant for Christmas, but... my Christmas tree is still up, so maybe other people still have their decorations out, as well...

Fandom: MCU Collection: The Brooklyn Boys Title: Big Red Bow Characters/Pairings: Bucky x female reader x Steve Word Count: 593

Content Warnings: Steve stays post-endgame, established threesome, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, nudity, kissing, light fingering

Logistical Notes: Probably fine to read if you haven't read any of the series, because this is legit just spicy fluffy stuf, literally no plot. We just haven't seen these boys in a LONG long time, and I thought this might be nice for them. Dividers from @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You take a deep breath as you hear your boys come in the front door. Steve walks past the doorframe, heading down the hallway, his arms laden with bags from their supply run. Bucky, however, glances into the living room, then turns his head back and stops dead in his tracks. He sets his bag down and quietly straightens back up, stepping into the room, eyes riveted on you.

You had been waiting for them, for this, and yet your stomach still flips and your cheeks heat as you see the hungry look wash over him.

He licks his lips, but continues to stare, unmoving from his place in the doorframe.

Your heartbeat is racing, but you will yourself to remain still, kneeling next to the Christmas tree, in front of the fireplace, hands folded delicately in your lap, in nothing but a large red ribbon, painstakingly tied in a bow. You had tied it around your chest, below your breasts so that the large loops of the bow just covered your nipples.

"Did you hear me?" Steve calls back down the hallway to Bucky. "I asked if you know where the–"

"Steve, come here," Bucky cuts him off.

You hear Steve's steps coming back down the hallway. "What? What is - oh," his voice drops when he turns up behind Bucky and spots you waiting for them. "Oh," this time more of a groan, and his tone sends a shiver down your spine.

But when they don't move, you bite your lip and drop your eyes. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to unwrap your present?"

"It's past Christmas and New Years, honey," Bucky teases.

You huff. The last two weeks had been so busy, and you'd just thought when you saw the discarded bow from your nephew's bike that it might be fun to play with, but today had presented the first possible moment you finally had time for something like this. "Sorry, it's a little corny."

"Ow." Steve thumps Bucky from behind, and you start to move, but Bucky says, "Stop!" and you do, surprised by his abrupt command. "'I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life.'"

Immediately comfortable again, you grin and giggle at the very apt quote from The Holiday, which you'd watched twice with them - once after Thanksgiving, and again a few days before Christmas.

They both swiftly approach you now. Steve gets to you first and kneels in front of you, leaning in to capture your lips in an kiss. Kneeling next to you, Bucky trails his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm. He presses his lips along your shoulder and back up to your neck, nudging his way in until Steve moves away, and Bucky steals the chance to claim your lips.

Bucky is quick to lay back on the floor, pulling you to lay on his his chest. You can hear Steve quickly undressing.

"Who says we need to unwrap you in order to play anyway?" Steve asks. Then he's settling in behind you, kneeling in the space between your and Bucky's legs, spreading them wider to accommodate him. He draws his hand down along your spine, over your lower back, and he lets a finger tease down between your cheeks.

You gasp, and Bucky chuckles. "Always so responsive for us, and so pretty like this."

"Mhmm," Steve agrees.

"But I can think of quite a few ways we can use this bow tonight," Bucky adds, grinning over your shoulder up at Steve.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Next chapter

a/n not what I originally wanted to put out but today this hit my head so a little something to smooth us in. AND This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨🤍

summary: an arrival of a new sibling get a bit too overwhelming for Azriel's youngest daughter.

warning: past trauma related to wing clipping.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Zofie's pov:

She was ecstatic. Mother knew she had told every soul that was willing to listen to her about how she was going to become a sister. An older sister. How happy she was to no longer be the youngest. To be able to pull the same proud older sibling card, the same one that Axel used when Zofie had achieved even the smallest of things. It was easy to love like that because all she had known ever since she had met you and ever since she had seen Azriel was love. She knew because that feeling was always fuzzy. Always somewhat pink with tints of purple. It grew different in the saturation of colors, but it was always so delicate.

She doted over the idea of another element unifying you all as a family. Yes, she was content when it was just you four. Always had been. Even back in the sanctuary. There was something that told her that this was the endgame. That you all were always meant to find one another. Then Granny took them in for almost a month. Zofie still remembered how confused she had been when you and Azriel hadn't shown up the next morning. "Your parents are mates; they accepted the bond and need a bit of time... till it... well... settles," Cordelia had told them over breakfast.

And Zofie had loved seeing the new shades of gold that now constantly swirled around her two parents. Even when she drowned it out, the sheen stayed. And oh, how she had adored her lavender dress at the mating ceremony. How she had loved the fact that even though this was supposed to be a day about you two, Azriel had pulled Axel and her aside and made a separate vow, as a dad, just for them. Azriel was her yellow. Had always been. She had found it strange. Alarming even at first. Because no one, not even you, possessed a color like that. But then she realized that it wasn't a sign of warning. It was a sign that, just like a flower, she had to lean towards the sun. Toward the light. Towards her yellow.

She also remembered the day you two had sat them down. To tell them about the babe. "Well", you had breathed out, sparkling eyes gazing up at Azriel, who had been smiling like a fool. Never had Zofie seen him smiling like that. "Are we finally getting that black cat?", she had asked like a real kid, eager to drag the stray home. You had chuckled, "Not yet, but I'm working on it", since truly it had been Azriel who hadn't been on board with the idea. She watched Azriel moving closer to you, clasping your shoulders lovingly. She remembered how she had gazed at Axel, meeting his confused gaze.

The her dad let out a content sigh, "You two are getting another sibling", such simple sentence and yet the room exploded in a rainbow of colors for Zofie as she let out a squeal, grabbing onto Axel's hand. "Another kid from the camps?", Axel had frowned however. Most of them had been taken down. Only tightly monitored ones were allowed to stay put. And only with weekly reports sent to Rhys and then approved by the three Illyrians and the high lady. "No", Azriel had said softly as your hands had shifted to tighten the material of your dress that now shaped a slight bump. Zofie was convinced that Axel and her looked like two dead fishes up on the shore. Mouths gapping. Eyes big. "Surprise", you whispered as a smile broke out on your face. "Fuck yeah", Axel chuckled forward, embracing you in a tight hug. "Language, boy", Azriel reminded Axel as they clasped hands both smiling so much their cheeks had to aching.

"Mom", Zofie had muttered out, eyes full of tears. "You will be a big sister", Azriel had cupped her cheek lovingly. "That's so amazing", and she was genuinely happy. So happy. "We will knit things and oh, papa, we need to carve that crib and...", she knew she was ranting but the emotions. So many emotions... Azriel had wrapped her up in his arms. Drowning out the sounds immediately, "We'll do it all. You and me. Will make it special, my little star".

But what frightened Zofie now that she had returned after fetching some stew that Cordelia had made for your post labor recovery was that something had shifted. She didn't see it at first. Too focused on not spilling the food in the bowl. Too eager to watch you eat something. To see the colors that surround you growing brighter. Because the labor had taken so much out of you. Too much even. But now... Now she was dang happy she wasn't holding anything in her arms as she brought her gaze up because it would have clattered to the floor. Zofie had barely sucked in a breath. Her whole body was seized. Her dad sat in a rocking chair, one they had both carved. The baby was cradled against his bare chest as Azriel rocked back and forth slowly, humming beneath his breath.

"Papa", her voice was barely a whisper, but it had always been enough. Azriel had always heard her. It was always enough for him to stop doing whatever he was doing, just... His eyes didn't shift upward to meet Zofie. He did hum beneath his breath in acknowledgment, but...

Zofie tightened her fist. That would have been fine. She could understand it. The baby had been born a house ago, but it was the color that had shifted... "Papa," Zofie called out once more, feeling that same overwhelming sensation building up in her chest. "Isn't she pretty, huh?", was what Azriel had said in return as he shifted the newborn in his arm, pulling the baby that fit in his palm away from his chest so he could admire her. A wave of love crashed into Zofie's shields. Such an insufferable amount of love. Love had nothing to do with her. Zofie let out a shaky breath. As the bits of yellow dusted away from Azriel's aura.

"I want to hold her too," Axel's voice sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back to look at her brother, who had stepped into the room. She was supposed to feel as full of love as everyone else, but watching Azirel carefully lower Novie into Axel's arms made Zofie's guts twist. Novie. Why pick a name that sounded like a better version of her own name. "Support the head," Azriel said gently, teaching his son on how to properly hold the youngest addition of the family, "That's amazing, and be careful with the wings." Another wave of emotions plunged into Zofie. Wings. Mother, that girl was perfect. Perfect in ways Zofie would never be. She never particularly cared that she didn't have wings. She didn't remember what it felt like to have them. Thwy had been ripped out by her father the moment she was born. But no one wished any harm to Novie. No, she would have a loving family from her first breath. He first cry. A perfect girl for a perfect family. And she was Azriel's blood. She had bits of Azriels. Features that would no doubt always make him smile. Because he would stop and see you, see himself in her. Zofie could sense slithers of green twisting around her own aura. She was jealous. Jealous of a newborn that was an unflawed version of her. Same dark hair. Same perfect skin. Just she wasn't cracked or marked.

A warm hand reached out for her, and Zofie instantly pulled back. "Zo, babe, is everything okay?", your gentle eyes looked up at her. Zofie forced on a smile, reaching back to you because she knew if she pulled back fully, it would alarm you, and she couldn't. Couldn't bring herself to hurt you. "Granny wanted some help downstairs; I will come up shortly.", the lie came so easily that it was alarming. Your warm palm cupped her cheek. "Thank you for being here with me today," you muttered softly. Zofie bit the inside of her cheek. Fighting the tears as she nodded. She didn't even spare a glance at her father and brother as she walked out. She had stopped to linger by the door. Was hoping for someone to ask her to stay. To do anything, but all she was greeted with was gentle laughter that only clawed at her heart more.

Hurrying down the stairs, she nearly tripled over her own feet. Barely catching herself on the railing. "Careful, love," Cordelia called out, her hands holding the basket filled with bloody sheets. Zofie simply nodded. Her hand reached for the doorknob instantly. Yet her hand stilled for a heartbeat as she looked over the door frame. Looking for Azriel's shadows. Ones that always followed her around. Ones that were always just for her. But she found none. "Zofie," her grandma called after not getting a response to her warning. Zofie knew the decision had to be made right here and now. A heartbeat of thinking too long, and she would... Without allowing another thought to simmer, Zofie yanked the door open. The cold winter breeze hit her face. And then she ran. Her feet slipped through the snowed-on rocks. As she ran and ran and ran, as the ringing in her ears drummed.

Nyx's pow

He could have stayed back in the camp as his father came to fetch Axel when YN had gone into labor, but Nyx always wanted to come back home. There was always a pull. An ache that only eased enough when he was in Velaris. That disappeared when everyone was in the room. Sitting in one of the fancy armchairs, the princeling continued to scribble as his parents talked in the background. He used to be a noisy boy, trying to listen in but as of lately none of their conversations interested him.

Just like his mother, Nyx reached for the brushes as soon as he could hold one properly. After that, his sketchbook was always close by. Simply because at times the visions and ideas would get so overwhelming that he had to put them down on paper. And he was just casually doodling flowers and swirls when an urge to draw a river bank hit him. Nyx was almost sure that he could hear the water roaring. The snow crunching beneath the feet. It was messy the way his pen arched out trees and snow. But it was almost as if he couldn't scratch an itch. One that was followed by an urge to fly. It happened at times more often than not as of lately. But he never gave it much thought. Illyrians were born with the sound of wind blowing within their hearts. So the need to be up in a sky wasn't anything strange.

So Nyx was up and walking towards the stained glass door, the pen and sketchbook forgotten. His wings were already ready for takeoff. "Nyx, where are you going?", Feyre's soft voice had made him halt. "Just for a fly," he said bluntly. "It's snowing," Rhys chirped in. "That had never stopped you, dad." Nyx rolled his eyes, stepping closer to his mother. "I will be back in no time; don't worry, ma." Nyx pressed a kiss on his mother's temple before turning back.

Usually, he never had a specific place he flew to on his night cruise, but tonight, the south bank of the river was exactly where he knew he had to be. The wind was painfully sharp tonight. That icy, rain-like wind. That felt like thousands of needless digging against one's skin.

Nyx would have flown over with no care if he hadn't seen the same oak trees that he had been scratching just before he leaped out of the balcony. His breath hitched. His heart was drumming in his ear. Because a part of him... He dove down, running the last couple of meters as his feet hit the ground with an impact. "Zo," he breathed under his breath. Chest heavy, "Zofie," he said much louder. The girl turned back, holding herself up against the tree. His skin was pale blue, and her wild swept black hair frozen over at the tips. "Hey, hey," Nyx breathed out, hands up, as he approached the younger female as if trying not to spook her even more. "Nyx," Zofie's voice was raspy and frail. Too raspy. Too frail. Something primal rippled deep within the princeling's chest.

"Hey," he called out softly, his hands reaching out for her. "Fuck, look at me," Nyx softly moved to cup her face, her ink-black pupils stared right at him. Not Zofie. An ancient spirit stared up at him instead. "You're freezing..." Nyz moved his warm palms over Zofie's icy arms, trying to soothe the skin. "Zo, what..." he muttered, looking around. Trying to find anything. A threat. Danger. Attack. Wildlife. He wasn't sure, "Why are you here?" but his question was met with Zofie's icy fingers gripping his arms. "Nyx," she called out. "I'm here. I've got you. It's okay," he reassured her. "Come on," Nyx wrapped both his arms and wings around Zofie, shielding her from the cold. He let his warmth seep into her. She felt so good in his arms. His mother had always joked about how he had been enamored by Zofie from the moment they met. They laughed it off as a childish crush, but they didn't know that the feelings hadn't changed.

But then a harsh wave of reality hit Nyx, "Does Uncle know you're here?" He knew that Azriel wouldn't harm him. Not really, at least. But Zofie was his everything. Nyx had rather a hard time forming a relationship with his uncle because they had never reached common ground as far as Zofie was concerned. She sagged in his arms, and Nyx swiftly scooped her up. She was tiny compared to him. And weigh no more than a feather. "Zo, what the fuck?", he growled, feeling the worry growing with him. But she didn't answer him. Curling deeper into his embrace. Her palm rested against his chest, right over his heart. He didn't know what he was thinking, but as he pushed back from the ground, Nyx knew that they weren't going home.

•••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @justdreamstars

[astonmartinii]

daniel ricciardo x rockstar!reader | instagram au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x rockstar!reader 

the rockstar girlfriend who’s really a softie, she just needs her boyfriend to bring it out. 

(daniel is a red bull driver in this - lol manifestation) 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, harrystyles and 860,899 others 

yourusername you make my heart go fast 

danielricciardo: you could say you make mine race ;) 

yourusername: stop making me blush, i have a reputation to uphold 

landonorris: you’re so corny 

cowboydanny: wait they’re so cute 

redbullenchante: as much as i love her touring i wish we could see her at more races 

danielricciardo 

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 537,621 others 

danielricciardo great weekend for the whole team - now for the summer break!

maxverstappen1: pleasure to share the podium with you mate 

danielricciardo: pleasure is ALL mine maxy ;) 

yourusername: i see how it is 

danielricciardo: this isn’t what it looks like i swear 

dannyricc3: max getting between mom and dad... not on my watch 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, taylorswift and 1,022,659 others 

tagged: danielricciardo 

yourusername yeah maybe i did plan my tour around my boyfs off season, and what? 

danielricciardo: more than happy to be your deckchair 

y/nismyqueen: can’t even be angry about it they’re so cute 

dannyxyn: if they break up i will never believe in love again 

maxverstappen1: god you guys make me feel lonely 

danielricciardo: don’t worry maxy i’ll be back to cuddle you soon 

danielricciardo 

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 762,073 others

tagged: yourusername 

danielricciardo forever in awe when you’re on the stage 

yourusername: you’re such a sap i love you 

y/nstan3: the way that she’s so open with her love now, i’m soft 

charles_leclerc: he screamed the whole show can i get another ticket not next to a mad man 

danielricciardo: let me be in love in peace sharl 

redbullracing 

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 924,001 others 

tagged: yourusername 

redbullracing a special guest is joining us in the garage today 

y/ngirly: AHHH SHE’S SLAYING 

y/nstan4ever: i’m so sad tour is over but wag!y/n is such a serve 

danielricciardo: wow who’s this cutie 

yourusername: back off she’s got a boyfriend 

y/ntherockstar: monaco!y/n is my fave now 

danielricciardo 

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,237,093 others 

tagged: yourusername 

danielricciardo redemption day babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy !!! nothing better than having you in the paddock my love xxx 

yourusername: best boy xx 

maxverstappen1: mega drive mate 

dannyriccstan: they are literally my parents 

y/nismylove: the way she was so excited ... they are so endgame 

yourusername 

liked by danielricciardo, maneskin and 1,721,092 others

tagged: danielricciardo 

yourusername this year has been wild, i loved sharing my music with so many around the world as well as seeing the one i love doing what he loves. here’s to many more years like this x 

danielricciardo: i love you 

yourusername: i love you too 

a/n: so i’ve had so much fun making these, so feel free to send in requests xx 

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday

do I want to end my royal fic? yes. was i inspired for a little more in the tuck fwb and buddie endgame fic? yes. how i see Buck here. so you can see why Eddie is jealous

Buck feels Eddie’s eyes staying on him all the time he laughs with Tommy. 

When an older man offers to go get them something to drink, he carefully walks to his best friend, seeing how the gaze of brown eyes gets darker because of his pretty clear limping. 

“I thought you wanted to bring Marisol today? What changed?” Buck sits near his best friend and closes his eyes for a few seconds from the too-fast contact of his ass and the chair.

When he opens them again he sees how Eddie holds his beer bottle so tight that his knuckles are white.

“Yeah, it would be strange to bring the woman with whom you break up, because it wasn’t working,” Eddie says only this, with his eyes continuing to watch how Tommy laughs with Bobby near the grill, making them cocktails.

“You said everything was good with her?” Buck asks sheepishly.

He feels stupid and like he is missing something, but Eddie refuses to elaborate. 

Just two days ago Eddie was almost singing how good he felt with Marisol and how he would bring her to the barbecue today. And now they have broken up.

“It was. It was a pretty friendly breakup. As friendly as it can be when a woman you asked to get official told you it would not work between two of you,” Eddie takes a sip of the beer, finally looking at him. Or better say on his neck.

“Looks like your night was way better than mine. What happened with “it is just two men playing basketball, nothing more”?” Eddie almost mocks him, throwing his words he said to the team when they were teasing him about Tommy.

Buck feels like he is scolded for something he did wrong, but he can’t understand what. He is an adult who has the right to date or sleep with anyone he wants.

“It was just a game,” Buck says and Eddie makes a face he always had when Buck dated Taylor and Natalia. 

It makes Buck’s blood boil. So his next words are way more harsh.

“But then the hot man asked me if I wanted to sleep with him and I said yes, because why not?”

“So you date him now? And what about the words for looking for someone special after Natalia said goodbye? About not rushing anything new?”

Eddie’s words almost accusing him in the crime he never knew he did and Buck wants to fight back.

“I’m not rushing. Tommy and I friends who fucked once. Big deal,” Buck rolls his eyes. “I needed sex and I had sex with a hot man who doesn’t want something more from me. And I am still waiting for this special someone, or I was, I’m trying to stop waiting for them, because I doubt there will ever be a chance for me. Yesterday I was sure that I would never have a chance again when I went to play with Tommy. So I decided to have fun.”

-

tagging @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @icecreampotluck @puppyboybuckley @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @devirnis @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @spaceprincessem @sherlockcrossing @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @gaydiaz @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @hoodie-buck @housewifebuck @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @barbiediaz @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @buddierights @mandzuking17 @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @nmcggg @the-likesofus @steadfastsaturnsrings @gibuckaroo

[damagedintellect]

Fyodor x reader x Nikolai [Rich kids AU]

💌 Days of our Bungo : Part 1 💌  

Summary: All of your fathers made a pack that whenever they had kids they would marry each other. It sounded like a good idea at the time but when the Sigma family was the only family to have a girl, and everyone wanted a bloodborne heir, things seemed a little complicated. After many arguments it was decided they would wait to see which boy, she, would fall for. Everyone always ends up having a crush on their childhood friend right?

Notes: Guess who had another Bungo dream, it was me! This time around the dream sequence started in the middle and just kept going so ima just fill in the gaps and start from the top.

Tropes: Sigma is your twin, Fyodor x reader x Nikolai, Fyodor is endgame, royalty/rich kids, Childhood friends, Mutual pinning but reader thinks it's one-sided, Nikolai knows its unrequited but he still loves you & Fyodor, eventual 🍋

💌 Word count: 4,821 💌  You Are Here | Part 2

At the age of five you and your brother were inseparable. You were twins after all, it would have been weird if you weren't close to some degree. Sigma kept his hair long to match you even though your hair colors were mirrored. Naturally your parents gave you matching outfits although with some alterations between skirts and dresses. Sometimes you and Sigma would try to swap outfits to see if they could tell the difference but your hair colors always gave you away. That's the first memory you could vividly remember. Right before your first big fight with each other. That's when your father knew it was the right time to call his friends. Your parents were always worried about your development since there were minor complications during your infant years.

You were playing in the garden when the maids called you into the foyer. Your father had arranged for you to meet someone. Well more than just someone, your father had many friends but only two of them had children your age. Apparently you've met them before but you don't remember them at all. You and Sigma had extremely finicky memories for your age. Which is why today was so important for the both of you in that regard.

These friends of papa were special, they were his super best friends and hopefully today you would also make a super best friend too. Sigma would always be your best friend but he was your brother first and foremost. That was like cheating to you so you were hoping to make a good impression on the two boys in front of you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol stood before you as you curtsied. The two couldn't be any more different than you imagined. One was quiet and stoic while the other was loud and energetic. They seemed like a packaged deal just like you and Sigma. They had been friends for over a year now bonding over music lessons and the fact that their manors were close to each other. As your fathers spoke you were sent off to play and get to know the boys. Their fathers looked excited over your very meeting but you weren’t sure why and you wouldn't figure it out until years down the line.

You watched as Sigma tried to play chess with Fyodor. Nikolai was commentating the game, making Sigma loose focus. Neither you nor Nikolai wanted to play after watching Sigma get destroyed like that. Fortunately Nikolai had seen the piano when he walked in and played the beginnings of a song. He was still working on getting all the notes right but it wasn’t bad for how many lessons he's had without sheet music no less. Apparently Fyodor played the cello and that's how they met at the academy. Sigma was going to start violin soon but you wanted to learn ballet. Ever since you saw the Nutcracker at Christmas it was all you could think about. Nikolai just enrolled recently because his family needed something for him to exhaust all his uncontrollable energy. At least you wouldn't be alone.

You dragged everyone out to the garden. Something you have always wanted to do with other kids your age was to play hide and seek. Normally some of the maids and butlers would indulge you every once in a while but there were only so many places they could hide. This would be fun. You decided to be “it”, choosing to make the gazebo your counting spot. You heard the pitter patter of feet run from you as you counted down. Although when you finally reached zero you immediately found Fyodor standing behind the bush at the base of the stairs.

“Found you!” You laughed and grabbed his hand pulling him along to find the others. He didn’t protest but he did look slightly uncomfortable being dragged along. It didn't take you long to find Sigma either, he likes to hide in the same spot every time but it did take you a while to find Nikolai. The entire time you realized you never once tried to let Fyodor's hand go. Fyodor gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he pointed up in the tree near the fountain.

Sure enough Nikolai waved from his spot as he stood up striking a victory pose. He nearly fell down while he was making his descent, accidentally kicking off one of his shoes in the process. With Nikolai being the winner he was now it. You made a break for it when he started counting but stopped when you saw Fyodor just standing there. It seemed like Fyodor didn't quite get the point of hide and seek. You ran back to him and once again dragged him away. 

You saw some of the maids making preparations for afternoon tea and in a spark of genius you crawled under the thick tablecloth hoping no one would think to look there. You and Fyodor sat for a long time. Definitely longer than it took for you to find Nikolai. With the excitement of the day you had gotten pretty tired from running around. You ended up slumping on Fyodor's shoulder being comfortable enough to fall asleep. While Fyodor contemplated what to do in this situation he overheard some of your waitstaff talking about you both.

“Have you seen the way young master Nikolai looks at our young lady?”

“I wish someone would stare at me like that. Although did you notice the young lady holding young master Fyodor's hand? She must have taken a liking to him.”

“That's adorable. I wonder if she will be betrothed to young master Fyodor instead?”

“I heard that they plan on waiting until she's eighteen to decide who she'll be promised too. They're all still so young, nowadays it's customary to wait to make the announcement.”

Fyodor looked back at your sleeping face. You were going to marry him someday? He rolled his eyes. At least now he understood why his father made such a fuss about being a gentleman before he left the manor. As if he'd conduct himself in any other fashion but given his only acquaintance is Nikolai, Fyodor can see his fathers reserve. He doesn't like the idea of his future marriage being arranged especially since he'd just met you but it was reassuring that in the end it seemed like you'd have a say about who you'd end up with. Fyodor didn’t understand why it was so important to his father but maybe he'd understand with time. Speaking of time Nikolai abruptly pulled the tablecloth off the table to reveal the two of you crouched underneath. While Fyodor was originally indifferent about the game he couldn't help but frown upon being caught.

You were startled awake by the noise of tea cups clattering in place. All the maids had a heart attack for a moment before they saw the white haired boy perfectly displace the cloth from underneath the dishes. You clutched your head where it made contact with the underside of the table. Fyodor let out a soft laugh at your misfortune causing you to stare at him in awe as Sigma helped you stand. The genuine spark in his eyes left you blushing as Nikolai was boasting about his table trick. You all sat down for tea as your father's plan to become friends worked like a charm.

___

After that you all would get together at least once a week to play around before you started attending the academy. Sigma was taking violin lessons while you and Nikolai started taking ballet. You thought he was crazy for doing both piano lessons and dance at the same time but Fyodor had commented that if anyone could pull it off it would be Nikolai. The boy seemed to be able to teleport around the academy as is. Not to mention the fact that Nikolai seemed to know everyone. His best friend on the other hand was the exact opposite. Fyodor was, annoyingly, always practicing even outside of lessons. Nikolai seemed to be the only one capable of dragging him out of the practice rooms to meet up with the rest of you. Sometimes he would even fight you all and practice during lunch. It was sad because you very much enjoyed the Russian's company.

Besides that, ballet wasn’t exactly everything you'd hoped it would be. You wanted to learn how to dance on your toes like Clara did in the Nutcracker but apparently girls don't go on pointe until at least the age of seven. Although recently there had been talk that the school was in the process of changing that due to safety concerns. Nikolai had thrown a fit that men should be allowed to go on pointe too but it wouldn’t matter because neither of you were technically prepared for pointe work anyways. That's all you hear day after day, technique. It was boring learning proper placement, posture and turnout. You wanted to skip steps and just dance but apparently it was extremely important to your training to practice at the barre. Which was lame, you liked centerwork way more than being at the barre.

Even after a few years you still liked working in the center better than being stuck at the barre. Although now the years of technique classes had really paid off. This past year had been more focused on prepointe and pas de deux compared to past years. You had partnered with Nikolai whenever you needed to partner up for anything. Nikolai would make a scene if he wasn't your partner to go across the floor or for stretching so you weren’t that surprised when he became your official pas de deux partner. The teachers must have been observing the two of you since you enrolled in the academy. When you were finally put on pointe Nikolai was extremely jealous until you let him put your shoes on. He nearly fell over going on relevé at the barre, claiming that they were actually torture devices and he was no longer envious of you for being on pointe. 

A few more years had passed and you started noticing that you and Nikolai were the artistic director’s favorites. They must have seen something in you both. For the end of year showcase you would be performing the pas de deux from Cinderella. Which was going to be their summer production that you could audition for. This appeared to be your audition for the role. You both were ecstatic. Nikolai was obviously a shoe in for the prince but you had a lot of competition for Cinderella. It didn’t bother you much, you were just here to dance and do your best. You heard a lot of gossip in passing though, “(Y/N) is only good because she gets to partner with Nikolai.”

“They’re only looking at (Y/N) because she dances with Nikolai, I dance better.”

“Her pointe work is so sloppy I bet you her father pays the school to get better parts.”

Nikolai has told you to tune them out but the feeling was hard to shake. Nikolai was a freaking prodigy at everything he did. So was Fyodor. Even Sigma to some degree but you get to see the behind the scenes of his genius. His anxiety sometimes rubs off on you too. At the moment your class was let out early so you were bothering Sigma and Fyodor in one of the practice rooms. 

For their showcase they were both given Ravel’s "Pavane for a dead princess". Which was an interesting choice given that it was originally written to be a piano solo. It can be done as a duet with a piano and violin or cello but it was weird that they had been practicing it as a violin and cello piece. Nikolai was playing the piano as they were taking turns practicing their parts. Again it baffled you that Nikolai knows this piece by heart. When the lad had time to practice this was beyond you. Sigma had been practicing this at home most nights but this was the first time you’ve heard it with the cello accompaniment. 

You couldn’t help yourself; it seemed like your body was moving on its own. You were so entranced by Fyodor’s playing that you got up and danced. To you it was such a beautiful piece. Most people called it melancholic but it was beautiful. You weren’t paying attention and Nikolai was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed but Fyodor slipped up slightly. Nikolai glanced at his friend to see what happened when he noticed that the Russian's hands were on autopilot. Fyodor was watching you dance. Nikolai’s hands stopped as well, completely encapsulated by your movement. This had to be what true freedom looked like.

You didn't even realize when they had finished playing. You were too busy living in your own little world. Fyodor smiled as you continued to glide around the room. You made it look effortless. Both of them were breathless. You only stopped when Sigma cleared his throat.

“So is it my turn now?”

___

Sure enough when the auditions rolled around for Cinderella you and Nikolai were casted at the leads. It would be your first time dancing a principal role. The only problem was the animosity of your peers. It constantly felt as though someone was out to get you. It was a feeling that kept you looking over your shoulder with caution. There were more whispers lately and it only continued your bad feeling. Of course you had an understudy in the event you couldn't dance the part and you noticed how she would glare daggers at you while ogling Nikolai.

You had just finished rehearsal waiting for Nikolai to finish changing out when foreign arms grabbed you from behind and your world went dark.

Your limbs were heavy and everything was starting to slow down. The commotion at the door of the cheap motel didn’t even reach your ears. Everything was muffled compared to the steadiness of your breathing. That was until Fyodor and Nikolai burst through the door. What they were doing here was beyond you. Why not the police? This had you confused but if anyone could track and take down some random ransom kidnapper it would be them. 

Ever since Fyodor took his first computer engineering and programming courses you had expected that he took to being quite the hacker but you never called him out on it. Aided with Nikolai’s weird obsession with carnival tricks like throwing knives, hatchets and the occasional lock picking, this seemed like a normal day. Maybe it was whatever the guy slipped you that made this seem like normal behavior. For all you knew, your brain could be trying to piece together logical connections for things that weren’t really happening just to preserve whatever mental stability you had left. In other words this could all be a dream that you wished was happening.

Fyodor knelt down in front of you. Piercing violet eyes assessed your condition. You could get lost in his eyes, if he would let you. His lips were moving much too fast for you to keep up. None of the sound registered to you. You've never seen him this expressive before. When he realized you were not listening he took off his uniform blazer and draped it around your nearly naked shoulders. You hadn’t even noticed that the two had taken off your restraints. Nikolai was searching for your discarded clothes as Fyodor started explaining again, but slower this time. 

“Sigma is outside dealing with our private police force. Nikolai’s father only let us come with them under the pretense we would not, personally, get involved but Nikolai threatened the chief to let us handle it.” 

Nikolai came back with your skirt but when you just stared down at the article of clothing they both gave each other a look and helped you redress. It was only when they tried to remove Fyodor’s coat did you finally snap out of your stupor and throw yourself into Fyodor's arms. Your breath was ragged and you were shaking. It seemed like your body was just now catching up to speed. The grip you had on his shirt only tightened as he wrapped his arms around you. The feeling in your limbs were weird, it took so much effort to move them freely and when you did, they felt like they were moving on their own accord. Right now you were safe and that’s all that mattered. Fyodor always made you feel safe.

“T-t…” 

The words couldn’t leave your mouth but then again you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even realize you had started silently crying until Fyodor pulled away to wipe away your tears. By that time Sigma ran up to you making you fall back on the bed. 

“I WAS WORRIED SICK! If Fyodor didn’t hack into “Eyes of God”, who knows what would have happened!” 

Sigma was crying more than you were. You tried to smile but your face was too heavy to turn up the corners of your lips. “Do you know how hard it was to prevent Nikolai from killing anyone? The moment we found out you were taken, those two were completely different people!” Sigma shook you for emphasis “It was terrifying!”

You wanted to answer him so badly but your mouth only opened without making a sound. It only took a beat for Fyodor to express that you’ve probably been sedated. Once Sigma got your shirt and Fyodor’s jacket back on your person, Nikolai carried you out and held you while you were in the car. Being your pas de deux partner for a few years now meant he could carry your weight near effortlessly. You leaned your head into his chest. Your eyelids were feeling extra heavy as they slid shut. You didn't notice his grip on you tightening, pulling you closer to his chest. If you were paying more attention you might have even caught the light kiss he pressed to your forehead.

___

You never got the full story but you could assume that Fyodor was able to trace the kidnapper back to your understudy because she was never seen at the academy again. You didn't stop dancing per se but you tried other forms of performance. Singing and acting have always interested you. So when you entered the high-school division you decided to give the acting thing a try. Nikolai always followed you around like an eccentric puppy and it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when once again you both were casted as the leads. Although this time there was one glaring oversight on your part.

Whenever you had any issues you couldn't sort out yourself you always sought out Fyodor for advice. You had inconspicuously invited the russian over for one of your sleepovers that hadn't stopped when you were children. The only thing that was remotely off was the lack of Nikolai’s presence. As the boys were about to retire for the night you finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“Actually um,” You reached for his sleeve “Do you think you could sleep in my room tonight?” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. Both Sigma and Fyodor raised an eyebrow at you. When you were kids he slept in your room all the time and none of your parents ever said anything about it. Sigma shrugged, he trusts that Fyodor wouldn’t do anything. He would have said something if it was Nikolai since he’s constantly physically affectionate as a person but if anything Fyodor has stricter physical boundaries compared to you. He'll allow it, not that he was going to try and stop you.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this but it was necessary. If you didn’t Nikolai would tease you relentlessly in front of the rest of the cast and you wanted to avoid that as much as possible. You were already freaking out that you had to kiss Nikolai of all people. He’s always felt like a brother to you and ever since that incident during Cinderella you were traumatized at the potential for that to happen again. Sure you were older now but that thought would always be in the back of your mind. You were aware of his ever growing fanclub and while after that incident they stopped bullying you completely you never know.

The moment you got to your room you motioned for him to sit on your bed. You were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves. Like always Fyodor seemed to read you like a book, sighing softly while giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Are you really that worried about kissing Nikolai that you need to practice?”

You groaned, hiding your face as you threw yourself on your pile of pillows. “Let it be known I hate when you do that!” You curled up into a ball peeking at the russian while hugging your safety pillow. You really didn't and Fyodor knows that, otherwise he would have stopped predicting your words a long time ago but it didn't make it any less embarrassing. He knows you a little too well.

“Yes, I’m worried about kissing Nikolai! I have to practically make out with him and I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Kicking your feet in frustration you sat up in a huff. “I don’t want my first kiss to be because I have to. I always thought my first kiss would be a special private moment. Something romantic you know? And now everyone’s going to watch me make out with Nikolai! I didn’t think I’d actually be Juliet. I thought I’d have more time.” Your face was hot and your heart was racing. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Fyodor; he probably thought you were being ridiculous. Auditioning knowing that this was a possibility. It was your first time auditioning for a show that didn't have any proper dancing in it. You had just wanted the acting experience.

“There is no problem with wanting something to be special, (Y/N).” He put his hand on your cheek and guided your eyes to meet his. “If it puts you more at ease, I would be giving you my first kiss as well.”

Your breath hitched at the contact. He'd be giving his first kiss to you. You didn't actually think about that, although you should have known that was the case. He’s never had an interest in such things but he was willing for your sake.

He was sitting so close to you. When did he move from the otherside of the bed? Your head was spinning and nothing even happened yet. Neither of you initiated the kiss and his expression grew uncertain. This was awkward but you’d be figuring it out together at least. To be honest you didn't think he would entertain such an idea. You assumed he would talk you through being less anxious about it or perhaps give you a kiss on the cheek since he’s never been fond of physical contact if he could help it. That goes to show you Fyodor was a good friend, putting his comfort aside for your sake.

You closed your eyes mustering up enough courage to lean forward, gently touching his lips to yours. A flutter ran through your stomach as every thought in your head melted away. It was only one kiss but this already left you breathless and you were expected to do this on stage with everyone watching you? You became lightheaded as Fyodor pulled away first, resting his forehead on your shoulder. It felt warm to the touch which contrasted how cold he normally was. You moved to touch your lips with your hands. They still felt tingly.

Fyodor let out a shaky breath as he recited one of Nikolai’s lines. It almost didn't occur to you what he was doing until he sat upright with his eyes trained on your lips. He was caressing you just like Nikolai would in rehearsal. You don't even remember if you said the right line as Fyodor crashed your lips together. Again you were caught by surprise that he was taking this so seriously. You hummed as you melted into the kiss. Moving your lips against Fyodor's was making you dizzy. You couldn't help sighing softly under your breath. You were too enthralled with your personal bliss you didn't realize when Fyodor moved you to lay on your back. You were currently lying down with Fyodor looming over your smaller figure. Your hands gripped the front of your dress as your heart hammered away in your chest. You felt Fyodor pulling back again. His expression was unreadable but his face was flush. You were both panting looking at each other through half lidded eyes. You had the urge to pull him in for more. You really wanted to be greedy.

“Will that suffice?” He spoke as smooth and unwavering as ever, sounding unbothered like he wasn't also out of breath. You on the other hand could barely form words. “I-I believe so.” You were embarrassed and wanted nothing more than to continue where you left off but it was a self-indulgent thought. 

Fyodor curtly got up to turn the lights off and situated his side of the bed. As he turned away from you he said his goodnight. You were left mildly hot and indefinitely bothered beyond compare. How could he just kiss you with all the passion in the world and then go to sleep? Maybe Fyodor should have been the actor out of your group. You've never seen his eyes so vibrant before. You laid there lost in thought replaying that last kiss in your head. Fyodor was always there for you but you hate that no matter how close the two of you are you will never be more than friends. Over the years he's never had any interest in romance and If his actions after the kiss were any indication, he couldn't even look at you. You turned away from him trying to ease the rejection but your head was still reeling from the kiss. You would never forget what love should feel like, even if Fyodor would not return the feeling.

Fyodor was eerily still, listening for your breathing to even out. He doesn't know what came over him, the moment his lips touched yours a fire was lit throughout his body. He prided himself with his immaculate self control and his body threw it all down the drain. If he didn't stop when he did he would have just embarrassed himself in front of you. He felt the blood rush down his abdomen. That's why he was adamant about turning the lights off as fast as possible. Fyodor tried to will it away but the memory of how you looked up at him blissfully dazed was driving him mad. He agreed to help for purely selfish reasons and he almost feels bad about manipulating you but it was worth it to best Nikolai, in that you choose Fyodor to be your first kiss. 

He's watched the two of you only grow closer as the years passed and Fyodor feels like he's been left behind. Even though you've expressed that your feelings for Nikolai is that of brotherly love, he can't help but feel it's something more when he sees the two of you together. It would truly pain him to lose your affection to Nikolai but in the end if that's what you desired he's prepared to step aside for your happiness. At least that's what he tells himself, it's far too easy for him to be selfish for what he wants. In fact he's known of your love for him for years now but he doesn't press the matter because such infatuation would only distract from your studies and the last thing he needs is to have both of your father’s disapproval.

The next day you tried your best to mask your weary expression as Nikolai leaned in to kiss you. You were expecting to be met with the same overwhelming warmth that you had with Fyodor the night prior but your mind was clear of the fog. As you pulled away you waited for Nikolai’s next line but it never came. You gave him a quizzical look but he was still staring at you in awe. He gave it a beat before he broke character.

“Ah, sorry that was my first kiss.”

Your director was laughing as the rest of your cast exploded in conversation. Nikolai was always the utmost professional performer; this was the first time you think he’s ever slipped up and broke character for any reason. His face was a light shade of pink as he avoided your gaze.

___

Part 2, 3 parts total

[withleeknow]

endgame. (m)

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, explicit smut; unedited. minors dni. word count: 1.1k note: she was gonna be a cute fluffy piece but she got away from me and turned slutty all of a sudden lmao... anywhomst, i wrote this while half asleep so it definitely could've been better but oh well 🤷‍♀️

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

It started off innocently at first, or as innocent as can be when you’re naked together in a bathtub, with your husband’s hands roaming your body, kneading any spot he thinks would help you ease your tension. The knot on the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your arms and legs, until he paused at your thighs.

Today was a crappy day, one of the worst you've had in a while. Everything started going downhill about an hour after you showed up to work, and it kept rolling down the slope of bad-day-ness until you got home. Shitty boss, shitty coworkers, some annoying backhanded remarks from your family that you didn't appreciate at all. It was too much.

You just wanted to go home, cuddle up with your Minho, and start anew tomorrow.

The second that you opened the door, though, your husband was there, greeting you with a soft smile and an even softer kiss. Like he could sense that something was up even though you hadn't mentioned anything to him all day. You even tried to hide your sour mood from him, thinking that maybe you were overreacting, that maybe it would go away eventually.

You don't know how he knew, but there he was, trying to cheer you up without you having to ask. He'd made all of your favorite dishes, because he knows you love it when he cooks for you more than any expensive meal he could get for you. After dinner, he'd told you to just sit there and look pretty with your favorite ice cream that he bought earlier today, while he cleaned everything up. He'd gotten on the couch afterward and cuddled with you while watching your comfort show.

And now here you are, in a bath that he ran for the both of you, trying to help you wind down after a hellish day.

He's been showering you with affection and pampering you with love all evening, without even being aware of everything that transpired throughout the day. He just knew, and he just simply made it his personal mission to comfort you any way he could. The mere thought of it is enough to bring your tears to your eyes.

Slender fingers squeeze your flesh before they start drawing odd patterns into your skin. Minho tilts your head to the side so he can kiss the corner of your mouth. “Can I make it better?” he asks.

You don’t answer him with words. Instead, you place your hand on top of his and guide it toward where you need him the most. Your husband graces you with an endeared smile the second his fingers meet your core while you sigh, eager for what’s to come.

He finds your clit with ease, just rubbing it for a moment and relishing in the way your voice gets caught in your throat, until he’s satisfied with how wet you are.

You wait with bated breath as he starts circling your entrance with the tip of his middle finger. And when he finally pushes in, burying the digit to the knuckle, all you can do is moan his name with a neediness that’s only reserved for instances like this.

“Fuck…”

You throw your head back to rest on his shoulder, your lips parting in a silent prayer as your thighs try to close around his hand, to keep it there between your legs. There's no one you love as much as him, and even after all these years, sometimes you still wonder how he could possibly be yours.

It's this kind of moments that makes you want to thank all the higher powers out there that aligned the stars for you and him.

“Feel good?” he asks, dragging his lips to pepper the side of your face with soft kisses.

“So good… You’re so good to me…”

Minho thrusts the single digit into you for a while, just testing the waters, easing you into the feeling, before he adds a second finger to join the first. It earns him a beautiful whimper from you, then a clench of your velvety walls around his fingers.

Then you’re turning your body to try and face him better. You catch his mouth in a kiss, but the way he instantly takes control and deepens it makes your head spin with desire. You think he must be doing it on purpose when his digits suddenly curl inside of you, making you gasp against his lips. If there’s one thing that Minho loves more than hearing the sounds you keen out for him, it’s feeling those sounds being released into him.

You attempt to reach for his hardened length - which must be throbbing at this point - between your bodies, but he just swats your hand away. “Just let me take care of you," he scolds lightly.

You want to protest, want to say that he should feel good too, but it's not exactly easy to put up much of a fight when his fingers are still relentlessly pumping into you, caressing your walls on every stroke.

His thumb flicks your slippery clit as his other hand comes up to cup one of your tits, squeezing it in his palm until you’re arching desperately into his touch. Some water splashes over the edge of the tub and onto the marbled floor as you squirm against his body, your hips bucking wildly into his hand, trying to find that high and hoping to crash into it headfirst.

Minho can tell that you're close. He knows you too well.

“Come on,” he says softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “My love.”

A few more swipes at your clit coupled with some more consistent thrusts into your slickened heat and you're done for. Your cunt spasms around his fingers as you cry out his name, grinding feverishly against his hand. He helps you through your orgasm, all the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. There's my girl. You did so well for me. I love you. Just things that he tells you practically every day, but they still make you flutter with absolute fondness for him nonetheless.

Once you've calmed down, you peer up at him lazily, still leaning against his body with his arms around you. Minho just smiles, seemingly so proud of himself that he's made you feel better.

More than better, actually.

You love him, so goddamn much. If only he knew that he didn't have to do anything to salvage your day. Only his presence was enough for you. It's always been enough for you.

The thought of ever loving anyone else seems like an impossible one. He's it for you. This is your endgame, right here.

"Thank you," you say.

"You never have to thank me." He shrugs sheepishly, then kisses you again, softer and slower this time. "You're my wife. I love you. I'm always going to want to make your days better."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.11.2023]

[oswildin]

Worth The Pain {Loki x GN!Reader}

Summary: It’s been one year since the snap… And you are struggling to cope with the reality you had been left with. And Loki won’t stand by and watch grief consume you. (Avengers AU)

A/N: This is an AU, Loki survived Thanos. I rewatched Endgame and had this idea.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, grief/loss

One year.

It had been one whole year since the snap. One whole year since the Avengers lost. Since everyone lost.

It was easier to find solace at the bottom of a bottle than to think about it. To allow yourself to feel. You’d hardly eaten, hardly slept, hardly done anything except swig at the bottle of whiskey grasped in your hand. You’d failed. And there was nothing you could do now. Whoever remained was scattered, the remaining Avengers dispersed. All just trying to carry on - in their own ways. Carrying on was very different from moving on.

You’d stayed at the compound, along with Natasha. Natasha threw herself into work, trying her hardest to find solutions, keeping in contact with the others in the universe. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do such a thing. No, it was easier to allow despair to swallow you whole. Cowardly? Maybe. But even mighty Avengers had their weaknesses.

Loki was an unexpected ally during the fight against Thanos, but a strangely welcome one. Besides, you needed all the help you could get. And after all was said and done, he’d lingered. You were surprised, thinking he would’ve been the first to run. The first to go into the shadows to grieve, to even revert to his dark ways. But no, he stayed. He was mellower, grown almost. The event had changed him - like it did everyone.

There he stood, arms folded, donning Midgardian attire of a sleek, fitted black dress shirt and slacks, leaning against the doorway to the common area of the compound as he watched you. Being only you two and Natasha that stuck around the compound, cohabiting for the last year, it was hard for him to not care… to not feel a pang in his chest at the sight of the dullness in your eyes, the pain, the grief…

And to see you only causing yourself more suffering…

No, it wouldn’t do. Not today.

“Do you intend to spend your day drowning your sorrows?” His voice asked across the room, softer than usual in cadence, but with his typical sardonic edge. Your gaze didn’t even drift towards him as you leaned back in your seat, lifting your glass to your lips to take a sip - as if to make a point.

“Do you intend to spend your day judging me for it?” You asked lowly, a hint of defensiveness to your tone. “Because if you are, I suggest doing it elsewhere.” Loki pursed his lips, pushing himself from the doorway as he took a few measured steps into the room, unfolding his arms.

“Who said anything about judging?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Besides, I’m hardly one to comment on… coping mechanisms.” He added wryly, acknowledging his own past machinations. “I did hold New York hostage after all.” You let out a huff of wry amusement at that, your eyes finally drifting towards him. Your eyes were glazed, slightly glassy from the liquor and emotions you felt.

“Hm.” You hummed in agreement. “That you did.” You nodded faintly, raising your glass in a mock toast. “I would say that was the equivalent to shoplifting compared to what Thanos has done.” You commented as Loki’s lips quirked ever so faintly, raising a brow as he approached the table where you were sat.

“Shoplifting?” He asked in mock offence. “Please, it was at least on the same level as a robbery.” He raised his chin slightly, a hint of mischief in his blue eyes appearing. You rolled your eyes languidly, taking another sip of your drink - a sip that turned into downing the glasses contents. Loki watched, his smirk fading into a thin line as his hands came to rest on the back of one of the empty chairs. Loki liked you. Truly, he did. Maybe a bit more than like, despite the fact you were a mortal. A cruel jest from the Norns it seemed.

“Either way-“ You continued after placing your glass down, reaching for the bottle once more. “You get my point.” You sighed, hand finding the bottle, but as you were about to pick it up, it suddenly disappeared in a shimmer of green, your fingers curling around nothing. You let out a heavy breath, hand falling to the table. “Loki-“

“I think you’ve had quite enough.” He cut you off, voice low. Firm, yet gentle.

“You’re one to talk.” You muttered with irritation, sliding to sit back in your seat, hand moving with you on the tables glossy surface. “You’re not exactly known for your restraint.”

“Perhaps not.” He conceded with a faint nod, pulling out the chair beside you, the legs dragging on the floor. “But I know when enough is enough for a friend.” He told you, taking a seat, eyes never leaving your face. You pursed your lips, slowly blinking.

“Listen, I don’t need a lecture.” You grumbled. “Alright? It’s bad enough hearing them from Rogers and his little ‘it gets better’ meetings.” You huffed, shifting in your seat.

“A lecture from me?” Loki raised a brow, tilting his head faintly. “Hel would freeze over before I gave a lecture, I assure you.” His lips twitched upwards briefly. “No, I am merely here as an ear. I can be quite a passable listener.”

“You love to hear yourself talk.” You rebutted, finally turning your face to meet his gaze again. “I don’t think a lecture is so far out of your realm of possibilities.” You added wryly.

“Please don’t put me in the same category as Rogers.” He feigned a pleading look. “I may have… grown in recent times, but righteous like the Captain I am not.”

“Then give me back my whiskey.” You raised a brow in a subtle challenge. Loki sighed.

“I can’t do that.” He stated simply, shaking his head.

“Why?” You narrow your eyes slightly. Loki paused, taking a quiet, deep breath before his brows raised.

“You know why.” He gave you a pointed look, his voice low and soothing. Once again, firm but gentle. Something that was becoming more and more characteristic of Loki, especially when it came to you. You held his gaze, before choosing to concede, leaning back in your seat.

“When did you get so… wise? Boring?” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest, almost like a mopey child.

“I’ll try not to take too much offence…” Loki replied in his usual sardonic way, raising a brow. “First comparing me to Rogers, now calling me boring…” He tsk’d with a shake of his head. “I’m wounded, truly.” His hand moved to press against his chest in a flair of drama, causing your lips to tug upwards slowly, even as you moved you gaze from his, trying to hide the fact he had been successful at bringing you out of your wallowing - if for a moment. “Was that a smile?”

“I’m not a child, Loki-“ You cleared your throat.

“No?” He tilted his head.

“No.” You met his gaze again, feigning a look of annoyance, trying your hardest to remain rather stoic.

“Oh right.” He nodded. “My mistake then.” He smirked. “It’s just, for a moment-“ He lifted his hand, gesturing towards your sulky demeanour. “Well, I was worried perhaps I accidentally cast some spell that regressed you a few years-“

“Asshole.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up inside, coming out as your head fell back against the chair. Loki’s own lips turned into a genuine smile at the sound, the sight of levity on your features - if only for a moment.

“I’ve been called worse.” Loki mused, raising his chin faintly. “So, I shall wear ‘asshole’ with pride.” Your laugh began to ebb, tears glistening in your waterline. But you weren’t sure if it was from the laughter or the sorrow you felt, or both. Your hands moved to your face, covering it as you took a few deep breaths, sniffling as your hands fell back into your lap. Loki’s smile faded into a look of understanding. He knew that feeling. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“I must warn you, I’m not very good at dealing with others tears.” He warned playfully, pursing his lips. “I much prefer to be the one making others uncomfortable with jarring displays of emotion.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You suddenly spoke, voice a mere murmur. “I don’t know… what to do. I don’t know… where I’m going, why I’m still going-“ You let out a shaky breath. “The world still spins, time still flows and yet… I feel I’m stuck. Life carries on but I can’t seem to move.” Your voice wavered faintly, as Loki shifted in his chair, turning to angle himself more to face you better. His brows furrowed in empathy, also understanding that feeling very well.

“Time is a cruel thief.” Loki said quietly, nodding. “And whilst we can’t reclaim the time we’ve lost… We can make sure that no more time is stolen from us.” He continued, keeping his voice calming, reassuring. “Take it from a God who has lived long enough to feel the effects of time.” He held your gaze, pausing. He let out a quiet breath, his hand moving to fiddle with the sleeve of his shirt, twisting the button lightly on the cuff. His gaze flickered to the action, brows creasing faintly.

“No one truly knows what they’re doing.” He continued, tone earnest. “Not even Gods.” He looked up again, meeting your eyes. “When one’s purpose is snatched away… Their life turned on its head… It can leave you feeling…” He paused once again, a hint of vulnerability flickering through his azure eyes. “Hollow.” He landed on, nodding. “Angry. Hurt. Lost…” He watched your reaction to his words closely. “Seeking ways to try and regain control… Whether it be drinking away your sorrows or trying to invade a realm that isn’t yours.”

You listened quietly, features softening, turning more downturned with each word that left Loki’s lips. If someone had told you two years ago you would be sat, having a heart to heart with Loki, the God of Mischief, the man who attacked New York… You would’ve laughed. And yet, here you were. And it was… exactly what you needed.

“I miss my brother.” Loki finally admitted outwardly, lips pressed into a thin line. “And as much as I would very much like to indulge in my grief, I know that isn’t what he would want. He wouldn’t want me to revert to my more… destructive tendencies.” He leaned forwards in his seat, resting an elbow on the table as he looked at you. “Nor would he like it if I let you, a friend, do the same.”

You bit your lower lip lightly, feeling the slight dampness on your cheeks from the few tears that had escaped. Your face felt warm from the whiskey, your emotions raw and vulnerable. A wave of guilt hit you as Loki spoke of Thor. You’d been so caught up with your own troubles, that you hadn’t even stopped to think about anyone else. And still, Loki was trying to help, trying to offer comfort.

“I take back the ‘asshole’ comment.” You murmured. “It seems as though perhaps I’m the asshole.” You muttered wryly, raising a brow as your gaze lowered to your hands in your lap.

“You’re not an ‘asshole’.” Loki corrected, shaking his head, a hint of a smirk on his lips at the Midgardian insult. “You’re just… figuring it out.” He added softly. “Like everyone else.”

Truly, when did Loki get so… Patient?

“And, for the record-“ He raised his brows, leaning in a fraction, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “You look much better without the weight of such burdens. Self-pity is very unbecoming on you.” He teased gently, his hand moving to gently nudge your arm, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You gave a small rueful smile at that.

“I don’t think self-pity is becoming on anyone.” You said lowly. Loki feigned a look of thought.

“Hm-“ He paused. “I don’t know. I think I pulled it off quite well.” You scoffed at that.

“Of course you do.” You mused sarcastically, shaking your head lightly.

A comfortable silence fell between you, the air a little lighter, your frame relaxing ever so slightly as some of the sorrow eased within. Loki licked his lower lip briefly, looking down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers absentmindedly. You were both each other’s constants in this post-snap world… And for that… he was grateful. Reminded than even in darkness, there were beacons of light to be found. After a moments hesitation, his hand moved tentatively, reaching over to find your own in your lap, as his fingers twined with yours, his skin cool compared to your warmer skin. Comforting. His thumb brushed against your knuckles in a featherlight caress.

“If there’s one thing that all this madness has taught me…” Loki broke the silence, voice soft and quiet. “It’s that… Time is precious.” He glanced at your joined hands. “And life is unpredictable… In ways I never imagined.” His brows furrowed briefly. “That you should… keep those you… care for…” His words hung in the air, a soft admission. “Close.” He finished, voice barely above a whisper as he waited for your gaze to meet his, eyes flickering over your profile. After a moment, you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

Looking at him, you could see the mix of emotions in his gaze. The vulnerability, fear, warmth… affection. It was a contradiction. But so was Loki. The God of Mischief, known for his chaotic nature, now a grounding force for another, an anchor amidst the madness.

“Letting people close… Leads to pain.” You whispered, taking a breath. Loki nodded faintly.

“It can.” He admitted. “But… I often find that it’s worth the pain.” He told you, a glimmer of hope in his tone. “At least that’s what many have said.” He added wryly, smirking as he raised a brow. You looked at him thoughtfully, knowing deep down, he was right. Life came with ups and downs, love and pain… It was what made you… alive. Very much alive. Your hand subtly tightened its grip on his, as if to reassure yourself he was real, he was there.

“Then… I suppose we should find out.” You spoke quietly. “If it’s worth the pain.”

[warblogs17282]

I think some people need to get that watching Helluva Boss than complaining that Stolas getting a lot attention is like watching or reading Pride and Prejudice then complaining when Mr. Dracy gets a lot of attention. (Yeah different characters, but the overall point still stands.)

yea it's literally just this, Stolas is literally a key character of Helluva Boss because he's a major part of Blitz's modern character as he's Blitz's love interest, Stolitz is without a doubt going to be endgame, without Stolas the show wouldn't be where it is today (such as the arrangement, Blitz's character development/arc, as we see quite heavily in apology tour), so Stolas and Blitz are deeply connected in that regard, making Stolas one of the most important characters in the show and as such Stolas gets a lot of attention in the show because Stolas' character development is very much integral to the show now.

Why people are complaining that one of the key characters of the show is getting a lot of attention is beyond me tbh.

Thanks for the ask :)

Answer was somewhat inspired by this post