#the last image has a second part but i can't find it

[sadtrashking]

"im so glad everythings fine pine au has ships that I can see why they were thought of" the devious and intimidating fredboo

[thinkinonsense]

ok so i had a thought😏😏 dbf!logan takes ur virginity and from then on u guys hook up whenever u get a chance (all the time). one night he gets done dicking u DOWN and u say u love him and he’s all like “we can’t do this anymore kid” very ANGSTYYY

i love you, i'm sorry- dbf!logan howlett x fem!reader

part two *mdni

"i love you, logan."

four little words that would send your world crumbling before your feet. the older man lifts himself from in between your chest, both of you panting post orgasm. nights like this had become a bad habit for the both of you.

from the moment logan first slipped off your panties in this exact spot a year ago, you had been wanting to tell him how you really felt. you wanted to tell him how you craved his touch when he wasn't around, how you adored the way he took care of you and most importantly, how this didn't feel 'casual' to you anymore.

seconds turned into minutes of silence, desperately waiting for logan to say something; anything.

"lo, are you going to say some-"

"we can't see each other anymore, kid." he says, avoiding eye contact with you as he pulls out.

"what?"

this wasn't real. that's the only sentence that your brain could form as you watch him put his boxers back on. you laid there on his bed, naked, vulnerable, with his cum dripping out of you and he can't even look you in your fucking eyes.

"ya' heard me." logan says, putting a cigar in his mouth and tossing your dress on the bed next to you.

"what happened?" your voice was trembling on the verge of rage and heartbreak.

"i told you a year ago not to bring that 'love shit' in here."

a year ago when he took your virginity. he promised to be gentle and to care for you. guess that didn't extend past sex for him.

you scoff, pulling your sundress over your head. "you didn't say that when you said you love how tight i fit around you or when you said you love how well i know you. was any of that even true?"

logan ignored you as he lit his cigar and waited for you to leave. you stand up and walk over to him, touching his chin and turning to so he's facing you.

"look me in the eyes when you kick me out of your bed." you spit angrily at the man you adored endlessly.

all logan could see was your eyes full of tears and your red puffy lips, trying to keep yourself together. deep down, he knew he deserved all the shit in the world thrown at him for him for breaking your heart. you would never understand why he had to be so cruel but his intentions were never to hurt you like this. it killed him.

"find someone your own age to love, kid." logan says, twisting the knife.

"don't call me kid, logan!" you yell at him. "i'm not a fucking child!"

"then stop acting like one!" his voice boomed back at you, spurring on more tears.

who had he turned into? you couldn't recognize the man in front of you. this wasn't your logan.

"so, you're just going to let me leave like this?" you cry, glaring at him. "give up everything we have all because you're afraid of me loving you?"

you didn't expect an answer, he already shoved your hand away from his face, no longer wanting the image of your broken heart haunting him.

logan wanted to tell you everything, explain why he can't accept your love because it will put you at a greater risks, but logically, logan knows he has to let you go.

"in ten years, when your ass is still sitting drunk on one of my fathers bar stools and he shows you photos of me and a man who can appreciate me for more than sex, a man who can admit he loves me back, you'll remember this moment because this will be the last time you ever fucking see me." you tell him rather calmly as you collect your shoes and purse.

logan watches you do as he asks and leave. if he was a better man, he would have done it differently; but then again, if he was a better man, he never would've fooled around with a twenty-something year old.

the front door slams with a broken sob escaping your lips. from the bedroom, logan could hear your car engine starting and that's when he could allow himself to grieve the life he would've had.

[frenchie-simone]

Physicality

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader

word count: 2.8k

tags/warnings: SMUT 18+, reader is some kind of wolf/dog-ish mutant but no tail/ears described, reader has hair, reader is in heat, unprotected piv, creampie, logan has a pain kink (duh)

a/n: y’all i wrote this because i sometimes do feel like a bitch in heat, so this is self-indulgent as it always is. a tiny bit rushed so it’s not the best but i think it’s alright. if i forgot tags or warnings lmk!!

Today marks the day that you've officially been a part of the X-Men for six months. Your first mission feels like an eternity ago, perhaps because you're so busy every day, no day quite like the previous one. Being an X-Man means two things to you: dangerous missions and physics classes.

Oh, and of course, the massive crush you have on Logan. He doesn't know, how could he, when you cover up your feelings with snarky comments and distant behaviour? Logan doesn’t question why your anger seems to be directed at him the most, he just thinks you hate him more than you hate the average person. It’s partly true, you hate him for the way he makes you feel. More than that, you hate the fact that it's a full moon tonight.

It's after school hours, and you're preparing yourself for spending the night in the forest. You grade the physics homework, take a shower, change to more comfortable clothes and eventually sneak out of your room, trying to avoid anyone asking questions. It’s evening and the sun is setting early, so you decide it safer to leave the mansion now, just in case.

You greet students downstairs, and thankfully no one decides to chat more than that. You make it out to the courtyard without anyone interrupting you. You hop the fence and head towards the entrance to the forest, but your heightened senses pick up a familiar musky smell. You stop in your tracks and mutter a “fuck” under your breath before turning around. To no one’s surprise, you find Logan trying to follow you. He widens his eyes, but quickly regains his composure, his usual smirk creeping on his face. His gorgeous face…

“Were you following me?” you ask and cross your arms, glaring at Logan. He huffs a laugh and props a hand on his hip.

“Yeah. Was curious as to where you're sneaking out on a Tuesday” he says casually and raises an expectant brow, waiting for an explanation. You clench your jaw and look away, trying to figure out a plausible excuse.

“It’s a full moon tonight. I just wanted to watch the sky. In peace” you emphasize the last word. It’s getting darker by the second, and the minute the sun leaves the horizon, it's too late. Logan can't be near you tonight. You already feel the heat simmering on your skin despite the cool breeze.

Logan scrunches his eyebrows and looks at you, unconvinced. And yet, he only exhales and nods. “Alright, sweetheart. Just try not to get mauled by wolves, will ya?” he says with a smirk. If only he knew you were the wolf to look out for. You roll your eyes at him and mutter some curses under your breath before turning around and walking deeper into the woods.

It’s midnight and the sun has set. You're located deep in the forest, far from other people. The heat is getting to you now. Your muscles are twitching, your core is aching and it feels like your blood is boiling. You sit down and lean against a tree trunk, not caring about the dirt ruining your clothes, panting and trying to calm yourself down. You know that pleasuring yourself won't fix it, but it'll at least bring temporary relief. You slide your hand down your pants and under your panties and start massaging your clit. Pictures of Logan pop into your mind; images of him shirtless, sweaty, just after a workout… you can't help but imagine what he would look like on top of you. Or under. Or from the side.

“Logan…” you can't help but moan his name at the thought. Even imagining him is bringing you close to finishing. You move your fingers from your bud and curl them inside you, inside your already soaking pussy, and press your palm down on your bundle of nerves. You add another finger and start pumping slowly at first, but you lose your cool almost immediately. Your pace quickly becomes fast and hard, and with Logan's face and body plastered on the wall of your mind, you release on your fingers in record time. You mutter a "fuck" at how quickly you came because the ache comes back almost as fast as you finished. You lean your head against the tree and groan in annoyance, before bringing your fingers into your mouth to clean them. It hurts so much, it throbs and aches, so you bury your head in your knees and try to distract yourself from the pain that you can't fix yourself. You try to think about your next physics lesson, upcoming missions, and what you'll do on the weekend... and for a while, it works. Until you hear a twig crack and snap your head towards the sound.

You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't smelled Logan approaching. Now he's appearing through the trees, searching for you. And that musky, earthy scent of him is even stronger to you in your current state, and your nose twitches involuntarily. He sees you crouched on the ground, dishevelled and seemingly exhausted, and he quickly rushes to you. Worry etches his face as he kneels before you and places a hand on your knee. "Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?" he asks, searching your body for cuts or bruises. You swallow and look down at his large hand touching you.

"I'm fine, but you really shouldn't be here" you try to tell him, your voice shaky. He furrows his brows and gently strokes your knee, the worry still there. "Don't lie to me, Wolves. What's up?" he pushes, not listening to your dismissals anymore. You lightly shudder under his touch and your breath quickens. You try to calm yourself, but it's no use. "Logan, I'm serious. This is something I gotta deal with alone" you manage to say between shallow breaths. His hand stops stroking and slightly tightens its grip on you. "I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's going on" he says with a stern voice. You can tell he means it. You swallow your pride and just decide to give him the truth.

"I'm in heat. You know, like an animal…" you mutter and look down, embarrassed to admit it. When he doesn't answer you, you carefully glance up. His eyes have gone wide and you hear him take a shaky breath. Oh fuck, did you make him uncomfortable? You turn your head to the side to avoid his face and you feel shame creeping on your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay... I was just taken by surprise, I had no idea..." he explains after seeing you turn your head away. You turn your gaze towards him again, and he doesn't appear disgusted or uncomfortable, just a little... nervous. Logan takes a deep breath before speaking again: "Do you..." he clears his throat, "want me to help you?"

Your mouth falls agape at his words and your eyes widen. He can't mean what you think he is, right?

"How?" you ask him, eyes still blown wide. He rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to phrase it. "You know... take care of you," he says and looks at you, anxiously waiting for your reaction. You didn't think he'd actually suggest it, but now that he did, your body goes hot all over. You try to play cool even as you hear your heartbeat in your ears. "I couldn't possibly make you do that, Logan. It doesn't feel right" you answer with your remaining sensibility, but your urges and instincts strongly disagree. You look down at your knees, trying to hide the pleading in your eyes. Logan only scooches closer to you and takes your chin in his hand and tilts your head towards him.

"You're not making me, Wolves. I want to help you, wanna make you feel good. C'mon, let me take care of you" he assures you and holds eye contact, wanting to show you he means it. His words, his closeness, his tenderness... it's too much to refuse. You can't control your urges anymore.

You bite down on your lip to keep in any pathetic whines, but the way he looks at you is like an invitation to pounce on him. Before you can register what you're doing, you're pressing your lips to his. You only get a taste before you realize what you're doing and quickly pull away. "Shit. I'm sorry" you mutter and move away. You see his jaw clench, and you think you’ve upset him. The thought makes your heart drop.

Until he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours. You whimper at the sudden movement, but you quickly kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He groans against your mouth, before his tongue runs along your lower lip, asking for permission to enter. You part your lips instinctively and he doesn't waste a second shoving his tongue in your mouth. Your own tongue quickly joins in, until you're both devouring each other with such passion and hunger that it makes your head spin and core overheat. Logan sits down on the ground without parting his lips from yours and pulls you down with him, and you adjust your thighs to straddle him.

Neither Logan nor you thought this was how your first time would go, but neither of you could foresee this. All your sensibility, rationality and critical thinking were thrown out the window, and all you can think about is his large, muscular, perfect body under yours. In the heat of the moment, you start subconsciously grinding your core against his already stonehard length. His hands fly on your hips to guide you, and he groans against your mouth at the friction. You pull away only to catch your breath, still rocking against him, and your hands go to lace themselves in his brown hair. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting against his skin, but the need for more becomes too strong.

“Please, Logan… I need you inside me” you practically whine, teeth sinking into his neck in an attempt to muffle your pathetic whines and mewls. Logan groans at the sting of your teeth in his neck, and if you’d see his face, you’d notice his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Mmh, you’ll get what you need, sweet girl. I’ll take good care of you” Logan coos into your ear, lifting you up and placing you to lie back on the ground. He’d like to take his time, draw out your pleasure, but Logan can sense the urgency of your situation. You start quickly unbuttoning your pants, needing to get him inside before the painful throbbing of your pussy becomes too much to bear. Logan complies, starting to unbuckle his belt, although he’d very much like to see you naked, to see that skin he’s been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Another time, he thinks to himself.

You pull your pants off hastily, while your eyes are fixed on Logan’s bulge still hidden beneath the fabric. When you’re in just your panties, you start helping him, or at least you try to, but you’re just fumbling with the zipper because of the hurry you’re in. Logan can’t help but smirk to himself, but he makes no comment, knowing you’re more than just desperate. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers, freeing has impressive and extremely hard length, the tip already leaking pre-cum. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you feel your walls clench around nothing. You’d like nothing more than to run your tongue over his prominent vein, or take his cock down your throat. That’ll have to wait for another time.

You pull Logan closer by hooking your legs around his waist, and he falls forward with a grunt, but quickly steadies himself on his forearms. You don’t even take off your drenched panties, you just pull them to the side, waiting for him to give you exactly what you want and need.

“You sure you want this, darlin’?” Logan asks you, giving you one more chance to change your name. You quickly nod your head, grabbing ahold of his dick and guiding it to your entrance.

“Words, baby” Logan tsks at you, wanting verbal confirmation. You mentally groan, feeling like if you opened your mouth you won’t be able to shut it. “Yes, fuck, I want it. Need you” you pathetically beg, still trying to pull him closer.

Logan straight up growls as he finally caves, despite that nagging feeling in the back of his head telling him this is wrong. That he’s taking advantage of a poor bitch in heat. He quickly realises the guilt is not enough to stop him. In one hard thrust, Logan sheathes himself inside you, and you gasp at the sudden but very welcome intrusion. He’s already panting heavily, trying to take it slow, as to not hurt you. Too bad you’re not having it.

“Please move, Logan…” you whine, trying to rock into his shaft. Logan’s large palm quickly moves to pin your hip down, and before you can protest, he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into you. You cry out in pleasure, your hands flying up to claw at his shoulders. Logan buries his face in your neck, as he repeats the motions, going slow but incredibly deep inside you, you can feel him in your tummy. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, he can’t help but groan, trying to muffle his noises against your skin. He moves his arms to wrap underneath you as he now picks up his pace, unable to go slow when it comes to you. You moan at the increased speed, your sharp nails scratching down his arms, and to your surprise, he lets out a moan at the sting.

“Fuck, baby… gonna come before you if you keep that up” Logan grunts, but makes no effort to slow down. You start trying to meet his thrusts with your hips, but Logan is not having it. He holds you tighter, fucking you down on his cock. He frees one hand from underneath you, moving it between your bodies to rapidly draw circles your swollen clit. You whine at the added sensation, your back arching off the ground.

“I’m gonna- fuck!” you cry out, unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm suddenly crashes down on you with a brutal force. Your nerve endings are lit on fire, but in the best way, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re struggling to stay grounded. Logan holds you through it, just whispering sweet nothings to you:

“That’s it, baby. I’ve gotcha.”

“Did so good for me…”

Logan helps brings you down from the high, and for the first time in days, that seemingly insatiable hunger that had been residing in the pit of your stomach is gone. But not for long.

“Logan, I want you to cum in me, please…” you whine, your weak thighs shaking as you try to pin him to your pussy. Logan groans, knowing he really shouldn’t. It’s reckless, irresponsible, but how can he refuse you when you’re being so pathetic and needy for him to fill you up?

Logan lifts you up from the ground with effortlessly, making you straddle his thighs. He holds you down on his cock as he starts thrusting up into you, now just chasing his own release. You whimper as he pierces you on his dick, but you take it, more than willingly. It doesn’t take long, until he’s coming with a strained groan, holding you down on him, his grip so tight it’ll bruise. You feel his warm spend coat your inner walls, filling you up to the brim as he pumps himself empty. You let out an almost obscene moan as you cum on his cock again, the remnants or your previous orgasm not having faded.

“Fuck, Wolves… I shouldn’t have done that” Logan murmurs into your ear but with a slight grin betraying his words, and you can only giggle in response. There was no regret in either of you, you’ll worry about plan B tomorrow. If you remember…

You sit on his lap for a few moments, letting him catch his breath. For only a split second, you’re aware of the fact that you’re in the middle of a forest, both of your clothes covered in dirt, and you’re pretty sure you feel a leaf in your hair. When you feel him soften in you, you look up from his neck, admiring his face for a second. Your lips curl into a small smile.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

[bueckersgirl]

Intertwined*

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Summary: Y/n and Paige have been broken up for a month now, and when a party comes around where they both find themselves at, feelings are revealed and its clear that they both can't seem to forget about each other.

WC: 3.2K

Warnings: 18+, smut, minor angst

(sidenote; im so obsessed with this picture UGH.)

➽───────────────❥

God— Y/n could feel her stare from across the room as she tried to keep up a conversation with her friend, Micheal. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Paige and her intense stares all night but y/n refused to give in because she knew that’s exactly what she wanted- for her to acknowledge her. Y/n wasn’t in the mood to speak to Paige, there was no need to really and she truly only came here to celebrate her friend's birthday then leave. 

It has been a good month since the pair had last spoken to each other, and the image of Paige banging on her front door,  begging for another chance was something permanently scarred in her mind. Y/n didn’t let her in, she refused to, and told Paige to go home and forget about everything they ever had. 

Y/n cared for Paige a lot- she truly really did. A part of her still does whether she wants to or not. Paige just screwed up a lot and no amount of apologies she’d give would make a difference. 

If it wasn’t for Micheals birthday tonight, she’d be at home in her bed instead. But, Michael had been her childhood friend for years and she wasn’t just gonna not come just because Paige was friends with him too. 

“You look stunning tonight, Y/n.” Michael spoke, grabbing her hand and giving it a small peck, causing her to smile sheepishly and mumble a quiet, “Thank you.” 

Y/n took a peek down at her glass, noticing it being basically empty as she chewed on her bottom lip, “I’m gonna go get a refill.” 

She slowly moved away from Micheal, making her way to the kitchen, and she felt her expression drop as she did so. Y/n felt exhausted the entire night keeping up the image that she was happy and acting as though Paige being there didn’t bother her but she didn’t want her to know how badly things were affecting her.

Once she was in the kitchen the music from the living room died down a bit while she searched the fridge for a new bottle of champagne. 

“Ma.”

Her eyes shot open once she heard the voice she hadn't heard in weeks, causing her to suck in a deep breath before she continued to pour her drink into her glass. Y/n was positive there was no way she’d be able to handle a conversation with Paige, especially not tonight. This was not the right time or place to try and work things out. 

“Paige, no.” She told her softly as she took a sip from her glass. 

She kept her eyes down at the kitchen floor, noticing Paige’s figure making her way closer to hers. “We’re not doing this tonight, please.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“You have been seeing me this entire night, Paige.” She was directly in front of her now. She felt as if she was trapped under her frame and was too tired to push herself off. 

Paige sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Properly see you. Like this. Not just from across the room.”  

“It’s been hard though because of you trying to avoid me all night.” 

“Paige, I don’t want to avoid you. I just don’t want to cause anything on Michael's day.” She sighed, placing a hand onto Paige’s chest to move her out of her way. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I can’t stay in the kitchen forever.” 

“So that’s just it, huh? You can’t even look at me anymore?”

Y/n shut her eyes while sucking in a deep breath before turning back around as her eyes made her way up towards Paige’s body, scanning her body, seeing she was dressed in one of her red huskies jerseys with a pair of sweats. Once her eyes finally reached her face the urge to look away grew stronger as Paige’s stare felt more intense and intimate with each second that passed by.

“See? I’m looking right at you, now. Was this what you wanted?  Are you pleased?”

Y/n was quick to notice Paige's expression fall at her words and she watched as she put her hair in a messy ponytail. “No, Y/n I’m not pleased or happy. I haven’t been pleased with anything since that day.”

“Paige, don’t start this.” She shook her head as she indulged in the rest of the champagne left in her glass. “You know I did what was best for the both of us whether you like it or not. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, it was bound to end eventually.” 

Paige scoffed, while her eyes trailed over her. “Bound to end eventually, seriously? Look I know I fucked up a lot. Like a whole lot. I'm not proud of it, I know how badly I hurt you and it pains me everyday when I think about how we ended because I know things could’ve been different if I just stopped fucking up.” 

“I tried playing it cool and shit acting like this hadn’t affected me.” She sighed before walking over and looking down at her, “Seeing you tonight, so beautiful, so gorgeous and talking to Michael and the rest of our friends as if  you moved on so much, it’s been killing me horribly. Because I haven’t moved on, y/n. I haven’t at all.” 

Y/n felt her heart pounding at Paige's words. She wasn’t even sure if what she was saying was the truth but a part of her hoped it was. Y/n hadn’t moved on either even though she’d try convincing herself she did, she knew she hadn’t. 

She opened up her mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by Michael coming into the kitchen. He stopped before looking at the pair and letting out an awkward laugh. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, and y/n gave him a small smile in response. “Everything’s okay, Mikes. Just came to get a refill and ran into Paige so we catched up a bit. I was actually just leaving to go find you.”

“It was nice talking to you, Paige.” Y/n whispered as she slipped her way past her, feeling Paige’s fingers lightly brush against her shoulder.

She hated how badly her body got goosebumps just from feeling her touch again. 

————————————

It had been two weeks since the party and Paige still lived in y/n’s mind. It was hard enough trying to forget about her but not only seeing her but speaking to her as well made y/n’s mind wander more than usual. 

Y/n had been laying down on her couch the last few hours binging a few movies while eating some snacks. She was slowly beginning to fall asleep but a knock to her door woke her up. 

Rubbing her eyes she made her way towards the door and took a peek through her doorbell. 

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Sighing she undid all the locks before opening it. Her breath was quickly stolen from her seeing Paige standing there with a cupcake and a mini bouquet of white roses in her hand, and she could sense the desperation radiating off her.

“I got these for you—I remember how much you loved the cakes from Sweet Mary’s.” Paige mumbled, before handing them over to her. “I’m sorry for just randomly showing up over here. I just had to speak to you.” 

She took them from her and whispered a soft, “Thank you” before moving out of the doorway. “Please, come in.”

Y/n wasn't sure why she didn’t just tell Paige to go home again instead of letting her in. She’d never admit it, but a part of her missed her company. She just hoped that this didn’t end badly. 

Paige stepped inside, taking off her slides and leaving them by the door as Y/n made her way towards her vessel in the kitchen to place the flowers in. “Are you thirsty? I can make some coffee or tea if you’d like. I also have a bit of wine if you’d prefer that instead.”

“No–no, I’m okay. Thank you, y/n.” Paige spoke, before following y/n to her living room where they sat on opposite sides of the couch. “Thank you, also for uh–letting me in this late.” 

Y/n watched as Paige swallowed thickly and turned to her, “I’ve been missing you so badly, Y/n, you truly have no idea. I’m sure at the party it was obvious enough but  I don’t want to play the victim, and make excuses for what I did because that’s stupid. I’m so, so, so sorry, y/n, for everything. For hurting you, for not changing, for letting my career get in the way of us, and making you feel unseen. After I gave myself these two weeks to properly think, it was clear that I need you back in my life. I’m a mess without you, ma. I truly don’t want to keep handling everything without you by my side anymore.” 

Y/n sat quiet for a few seconds not sure how to properly express what she wanted to say. She could tell Paige was miserable and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. 

“Look.” she began, noticing how Paige dropped her head into her hands, before giving her the chance to finish and letting out shaky breaths. “I know from the outside looking in on things you’ve assumed I’ve been handling things fine. I can tell based on what you said to me at Michaels birthday. But I actually haven’t been dealing with this that well either. I’ve missed you as well, you’re all my mind has been thinking about the past month. And no matter how hard I try to deny my feelings– I really miss you.” 

Paige slowly lifted her head back up as a large grin took over her face, “Can I scoot closer to you, please?” she asked, and y/n was quick to nod in response. 

“God– you have no idea how badly I’ve missed sharing the same space as you. Just getting the chance to be this close to you is so fucking rewarding.” she spoke as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair while she laid on her lap. Paige’s hand came up to her cheek, it was clear at first she was hesitant but she eventually stroked y/n’s cheek gently and let out a relieving sigh. “I’ve missed touching you.” 

Y/n turned her head and kissed the palm of Paige’s hand. “I’ve missed touching you too.” she spoke, before lifting her head up and running her nose against Paige’s jaw. “Please don’t hurt me again.” 

Paige wrapped her arms around her waist tightly and whispered softly into her ear, “I promise, I’ll never hurt you again my sweet girl.” Before Paige got the chance to say any more, y/n was quick to lean in and press her lips against hers, molding them together as she held onto Paige’s shirt tightly. Paige took the opportunity to roam her hand down y/n’s body again just like she did before. Finally getting the chance to feel her bare skin against hers was something she’d been craving for what felt like years. Her hand slid under y/n’s shirt and cupped her bare breast with her hand, earning a light moan from her against her lips. Her other hand slipped into her shorts, but was quickly taken aback when her hand was met with y/n’s bare ass cheek–instead of the cloth of her panties. 

She pulled back from the kiss and looked at y/n with furrowed brows. “You aren’t wearing underwear?” 

Y/n’s cheeks flushed pink as she shook her head in response and licked on her bottom lip. “I uh–take them off before I go to sleep now. It’s something I’ve been doing recently.” 

She watched as Paige’s pupils dilated, and soon both of her hands were now cupping her ass as she lifted them up from the couch and walked towards her room. “I forget how strong you are sometimes.” y/n muttered, causing Paige to chuckle before dropping her gently onto her twin-sized bed. “That seems like something pretty hard to forget, ma.” 

Paige hovered on top of y/n’s spread out figure and ran her fingers against her bare thigh. “Take off your shirt for me, ma. Wanna see those pretty tits again, been too long.” she asked and y/n was quick to comply, taking off her blouse earning a light grunt from Paige’s lips.

She held them both in her hands as she lightly massaged them, “Fuck, I’ve missed touching these pretty lil’ things so bad, baby.” she whispered before bringing her mouth down and sucking on one of them, and pinching the other one using her thumb and index finger as y/n let out a loud moan. 

“Feels good, hm?” Paige mumbled, removing her mouth from her breast and attaching them to her neck, nibbling onto the skin, making sure to leave a visible mark right underneath her jaw. 

She slid down y/n’s shorts eagerly and moaned at the sight of her bare pussy on display for her. “Ima take care of you tonight, ma. Just like I used to, gonna help you feel real good.” she spoke, taking two of her fingers and shoving them into y/n’s mouth and muttering a low, “Suck.” 

Y/n was quick to suck on her fingers like her life depended on it. She remembered how much Paige loved when she’d take them down her throat–so she was quick to do so. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Paige praised, shoving a third finger into her mouth. “Suck my fingers real good, ma. Imagine it was my strap in your mouth again.” Y/n moaned at the thought of having the strap back in her mouth–missing the way Paige would fuck her face with it or the times she’d aggressively fuck her when she’d misbehave, leaving her pussy sore yet throbbing and begging for more. 

“Such a good girl. Sucking my fingers so well.” she said, slowly taking her fingers out of y/n’s mouth as a string of saliva followed, then bringing them down to her dripping pussy. “Always get so wet for me, didn’t even need the spit, could easily slide my fingers right in, just like this.” she spoke as she slid two of her digits nice and slow inside, watching them disappear inside her entrance, before taking them out, licking her wetness clean from her fingers and letting out a moan at the taste.

“God–sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. Could have this taste in my mouth everyday and be satisfied.” 

“Paige.” “Yes, ma?”

“Please lick me.” 

Paige leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “Anything you want.” she whispered, grabbing y/n’s thighs and putting them on top of her shoulders. Paige was a sucker for teasing, and on any other occasion she’d make y/n work and beg for it. That was the usual for them. It was rare for Paige to give in this easily and early but fuck–she hadn’t gotten a chance to properly taste her in a month.  

She was quick to attach her mouth to y/n’s needy clit and start licking. She gained so much pleasure just by eating her out, it was like a gift on Christmas day for her. “Been so long since I had this sweet lil’pussy in my mouth.” Paige lifts her mouth up a bit and licks, causing y/n’s mouth to fall open in disbelief at the soft, sucking sound and gently smacking-noise as her lips sucked onto her clit. “God–it’s so fucking good.” she groaned under her breath, and y/n swears she’s on cloud nine. The feeling of Paige’s hot breath combined with her wet tongue was sensational. 

“Come on, ma.” she squeezed her thighs with her long fingers before pleading, “Back and forth yeah? Rock a bit for me, want you to be riding my face a bit.” Y/n was quick to do so, feeling the warm tip of Paige’s tongue press against her. “Fuck, feels so good, I’ve missed your tongue on me so badly.” she moaned, before Paige gave her a warm, long lick, causing her to cry out softly.

“Yes–yes, that’s right baby.” Paige muffled, giving her clit a short, sloppy sounding lick, making y/n buckforward again. “Shit, good fucking girl. Ride my tongue, just like that.” she spoke, having her tongue still buried between her folds, as y/n let out louder moans from the pleasure. Paige began kneading her thighs firmly as she licked deeper and deeper with each sound of y/n’s breathless moans escaping her swollen lips.

Y/n felt her abdomen clench and release, causing her to let out a fluttery sigh. “I’m close, so-so close.” she whispered urgently, as Paige hauls her more tightly against her mouth and presses her tongue more firmly against her needy clit. Y/n inhales sharply and her mouth falls open when her center starts to splinter into pieces, “I’m cummin–fuck.” And before she knew it, she was making a mess on Paige’s face. She pants, caught in place, as Paige rubs her thighs and lifts her face up, revealing her mouth and chin, glistening in her pussy juices. 

Paige then leans down and kisses her, and y/n immediately tasted herself on her tongue. The two just stayed like this for a while before y/n pulled back from the kiss. “Now–my turn.” Y/n climbs her way off the bed and stands in front of Paige’s frame. “Let me make you feel good now.” she spoke, lightly shoving Paige back against the bed into the same position she was just in. Paige took off her sweats, leaving her in just her underwear and y/n was moaning already at the sight in front of her. 

“I’ve missed having you in my mouth.” she says, licking a stripe against her clothed clit, earning a moan from Paige’s lips. “Ima make you feel good too, promise.” Y/n quickly pulls her underwear to the side, revealing her wet and glistening folds, ready for her to dig in. 

Y/n’s quick to start licking as if she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in years. Paige kept a firm grip on her hair, yanking and pulling on it lightly with each feel of her tongue against her. Y/n loved looking up and watching the sight of Paige falling apart above her. Paige’s body grew more desperate with each deep, sloppy lick to her clit as y/n spit down onto her, earning another moan from her lips. Y/n could tell she was close by her pants and breaths, and she was determined to taste her cum on her tongue. After a few more licks and sucks to her clit, her legs shook and she was cumming. 

“Mmmmm” y/n dragged out, as she licked her lips clean and offered Paige a cute smile. “So tasty.” she mumbled as Paige grabbed her hips and dragged her body on top of hers and kissed her lazily.

 “I’ve missed this so badly, y/n.” 

“I’ve missed this too.” she muttered, gently kissing her jaw before pecking her nose. “At least now you don’t have to miss it anymore.”

“And why’s that hm?” she asked.

“Because I’m yours again.”

[numberonetribble]

Hello Breakbee family! I couldn't find an answer to this anywhere so I decided to comb through the Iacon 5000 race in Transformers One and guess who found Breakdown!!! (I apologize for any low-res screenshots, none of the streaming websites wanted to work with me)

How I did this is by keeping track of Swindle. Seen here, on the leader board Breakdown is in front, followed by Swindle, then Orion/D-16

This shot is shown after Darkwing hits D-16 and the pair slide down into the tunnel. Swindle's colors are Purple and Yellow. We can see that Breakdown's colors are Grey and Dark Blue, which is different from Tailgate's who is more of a Teal and Grey. This is important as Breakdown will be more Grey than Blue and Tailgate will be more Blue than Grey. We know the movie is based off the G1 designs and here is what Breakdown looks like in G1:

So let's jump backwards a second to before Orion/D-16 jump off the ledge/are hit by Darkwing

We can see there is a big Purple bot and another bot coming up behind them. Purple is obviously Swindle. I'm saying Darkwing? here since I'm not 100% as the image quality is not great. However I think it is Darkwing since there's nobody else in the shot behind them. Also, if you look at his legs there's a clear yellow rectangle design which is important in a moment. There was a car pile up that knocked out several racers right before this and you can see Swindle. The other big bot isn't Darkwing or Breakdown as they have handles on their back.

Once Orion/D-16 jump off the ledge there are three Transformers directly behind them. From left to right we have Swindle, Darkwing and finally our man Breakdown. We know that's Swindle because he was behind D-16, both of them are on the left side of the screen. In the middle we have Darkwing and that's where the yellow rectangle design on the legs comes back into play, it's the same model. Finally, Breakdown. The lighting isn't great, but the arms, legs and chest area are very much Dark Blue, matching the G1 design. The part that seals it for me? Look at the arms, shoulders are blue, the forearm is a shiny grey and the hands are blue. I have been drawing Breakdown enough to clock that design immediately !!!

Before we move on, I would like to point this out, Breakdown has his arms up and legs down, but does a flip where his feet are up and hands are down. In Earthspark whenever Breakdown transforms, his feet are the front of the car and his torso half is the back. Bumblebee is reversed, his torso is the front while his feet are the back. (Bee does a little leg kick whenever he transforms it's very cute of him). I can't speak for G1 or Prime Breakdown but here it's the same, the feet become the front of the vehicle and the torso becomes the back. B-127 also matches Earthspark, his torso becomes the front while his feet become the back.

Here they are in vehicle mode. In this next part I have marked where I would like everyone to pay attention as this moment happens very quickly. Swindle has these squarish double burners(? idk car words), an angular bumper and round wheels. Breakdown has these rectangle things on his back/middle, but is mostly grey and maybe stripes but it's difficult to tell.

Now the movie does this camera trick so everyone flips positions. Swindle/D-16 have been on the left side of the screen, they are now going to be on the right. Orion/Breakdown have been on the right, they'll be on the left. Darkwing takes off and is ahead of everyone.

The vehicle in the very front is the same mostly grey with maybe stripes and weird rectangles in the previous shot. Which means, that's 100% Breakdown!!! He pulls ahead of Swindle who, has those squarish burner things, an angular bumper and round tires! Logically speaking, whomever is in front of Swindle in this very moment, can only be Breakdown!

Unfortunately this is the last time we see this vehicle clearly as it gets too far ahead of Orion/D-16. Here is the next shot of them in the tunnel, Breakdown and Swindle are gone.

(Fun note: this orange/white/blue car is repeatedly used throughout the race no matter where Orion/D-16 are placed. No idea who it is)

However! Breakdown's model get reused in the tunnel scene with different paint jobs! Observe:

Here is when Orion gets kicked off, whomever, he is riding. On the right we can see that same vehicle model, only very clearly Teal. My vote is Tailgate! The front 4 headlights and the squarish things on the back/middle are the same as the next one:

Orion has been caught by D-16 as his jetpack explodes in the background. I'm not sure if it is Breakdown as the lighting in the tunnel is causing some reflections. I color-picked the stripes in my art application and the colors are supposedly red, but it looks purple to me.

So, in terms of the race: Breakdown was in front, Swindle, Orion/D-16 then Tailgate. Orion/D-16 fall behind, then they catch up by hitching a ride, putting them back up to where maybe Tailgate and Breakdown are. Although I will admit, these vehicles may just be reused assets to populate the race.

Now, I would like to get ahead of something. Throughout the race we see the leaderboard and if you look on the right, it shows if a Transformer is a "car" or a "plane" (very funny to me Orion/D-16 are just [?])

And here's Breakdown on the board again, he's very clearly a "car"

"Oh but that character model is flying! That can't be Breakdown!"

I don't think it's that binary? We see several "motorcycles" and they are also labeled as "car"

"Oh maybe it's wheels versus flying types!"

Again that doesn't seem quite right? Cybertronians aren't bound to Earth rules of vehicles. In Earthspark, Prowl is a "car" but is flying around.

Look there he goes!

Sure he has a driving Earth-mode later. But that's more to my point, maybe it's based on size of vehicle? There are several smaller flying "cars" and we only see a couple of larger racers labeled as "plane".

Breakdown's model is roughly the same size as Swindle and both are smaller than Darkwing. Perchance, on Cybertron they'd be thought of as "cars".

"But Orion is the same size as Darkwing at the almost end of the movie, would that mean he would be labeled as a "plane" ?"

Work with me please!!!! D:

Maybe, when entering the race, each racer has to pick which one represents them more and they only had 2 art assets.

Edit to Add: I slept on it and I don't think this is the "Offical Transformers One Breakdown character model render design" it's probably Generic Racer No. 5, however it's what's being used to represent Breakdown in this moment in the race.

So in conclusion, that's my man!!!! Our man!!!!! There he is!!! He's right there! Breakdown! He's here!!!!

[moonsaver]

Imagine instead of 4ggravate being a kpop boy group and reader being the fangirl, its the other way around

4ggravate forms a groupchat particularly because of you, their bias, who is also the least recognized in your group and is often overshadowed by others, leading to a desperate convergence of your fans in finding out the itty bitty stuff about you that's all on blast when it comes to the other idols in your group. They're like detectives trying to figure out whether you liked the specific flavor of ice cream on a show you participated in with your group. Each of them keep tabs on any official updates about you, recording and clipping parts of your group's lives in the tidbits where you come in, and forming a wall trying to defend you from majority of the fandom when you get backlash from false rumors. That's just how the group came to be.

Kaveh is the oldest fan amongst them – he's been there since day 1. Claims he knows the most out of all of them and tries to prove it via quizzes and guessing games. Sometimes he wins, most times he doesn't. Also the poorest of the four. He spent so much on buying your specific merchandise he didn't plan for the future concert you group was holding in his area, and ever since then he's had to tearfully decide constantly between buying albums, your photocards, new lightstick versions, etc.. and your concert that may or may not even be held in the area.

In the rare chance that he does attend your concert – he tries to get the most out of it. Front row, headbands, fanchant at the top of his head, lightsticks in both hands. When you notice him and exchange a few words over the loud crowd, he swears he's going to pass out, looking up at your crouched figure on the stage makes you look almost like an angel to him, the light highlighting your figure perfectly. Suffice to say, he eventually made an impression on you at least.. because he passed out and the crowd had to surf him to a security guard. He's deeply embarassed about it, and can't really escape it now that he's become a bit of an inside joke in your fandom

Cyno is the second older fan. Like Kaveh, he prides himself over having a good amount of knowledge about you that's not exactly easy to find – old, old, old images of other kpop idols in which you appear for a fraction of a second, spotting the products you use in your lives and being able to find out the brands is his specialty. If Kaveh has the knowledge, Cyno at least has the detective skills. He has his own individually run fanpage where most other fanpages, even your group's fanpages, refer to as a trusted source. Has also managed to create several fancams of you that were incredibly hard to get ahold of. He's those fanpages on twitter who thoroughly collect evidence and manage to pinpoint future events you're going to take part in before they're announced, and he manages to predict it correctly almost all the time. He's well known within the fandom, but due to how busy he is in 4ggravate trying to form a cumulative plan almost all the time, rarely does he find the time to respond to other fans and fanpages, and most other admins don't usually approach him either.

If anything, at least he's got more resources and money than Kaveh. I imagine he actually also is in a lot of other groups besides 4ggravate.

Alhaitham, out of everyone, is the one who's actually talked to you the most. He was originally just interested in the music, didn't really care until he realized how less and less your lines became the more songs your group churned out. So in his mind, to "make up for" the lack of lines on your end, he decides to simply just pay extra attention to your solo activities. It's not soon before you become his bias. Unlike Kaveh, he was pretty strategic and managed to plan ahead for scheduled fancalls, fanmeetings, appearances in public, etc..

he leaves a lasting impression because.. he doesn't show his appearance. At all. There's many fans out there who get your attention by doing strange things with their appearance, but Alhaitham refuses to even take off his mask just to talk to you. In fancalls, he decides to cover the cameras, always wears hoodies that cover him completely when he meets you in public. At some point, the fandom falls in love with him instead (which drives Kaveh insane), and it's not soon before there's all sorts of rumors about you two. The rumors get more wild when he only ever takes his hoodie off once when you meet him face to face. Personality wise, he sticks out because of how easily he's able to spot changes in choreography, voice, pitch, writing style, etc.. and even more so, because of how upfront about it he is, without actually being creepy about it. He gives good advice without making it sound like unwelcome criticism.

Tighnari is actually the normal one. He just generally likes the music and likes your voice specifically because he thinks your voice suits the concept the best, but because of a few injustices (which he sarcastically comments on many fancams, to which also many fans agree), he finds himself doing something similar to Alhaitham. Albeit, less.. detailed? Is what he thinks. He's actually a bit of a keyboard warrior when it comes down to it – replying to group threads that intentionally leave you out, having the sassiest comebacks to mean or rude comments about you, piecing together timelines and locations to prove false rumors wrong, working especially close with Cyno in these kinds of cases. If there's a fancam of you, Tighnari is under it fighting some or the other hater, or just blatantly commenting on the event itself that intentionally disrespects you or your group.

He's probably the only one who actually leaves a long lasting impression on you. When your car drives by a bunch of your excited fans, he's the normal one who's looking on calmly and waving to you with a stoic face. Whenever he comes to fanmeetings with Alhaitham, or has fancalls with you – it's fun! His humor is easy to accustom to, conversation goes lightly, and overall he's the tamest out of everyone. He gives you some skincare advice which you gladly accept, and somehow, despite not being as incriminating as the others when it came to detail, they're salty about how he seems to be the one who's closest to you. It's not unnoticeable the way out of all four of them, you recognize him by a first name basis. Ohhh boy.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

You Can Run, But You Can't Hide

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: angst, being involved with dangerous people, being kidnapped and threatened

Summary: You thought you left your past behind when your boss was caught and put in one of the most secure prisons in the world: The Raft. You’re on the run, always looking over your shoulder for someone from that dangerous past. When you’re captured by Steve’s nemesis, you’re pulled back into that world whether you like it or not.

Square Filled: image prompt (C2) (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

I took inspiration from this video i found on tiktok!

Author’s Note: this is going to be a series, but i just don't have any other parts planned. i'd like to read your comments and your question about this! i did have the question of "what if steve turned evil by hydra", thus this fic!

x

People pass you by on the sidewalk but you keep your head down the entire time. All you want is to get back home and start dinner. You try to limit your time outside in fear someone will recognize you. The first rule of being on the run from powerful and dangerous people is don’t get caught. Don’t make mistakes. You go out once a month for groceries and other necessities, but this month took two trips.

Just a few more months and you can leave this country and settle in a country where they won’t find you.

When you finally reach home, you’re quick to turn the multiple locks on your front door. You can never be too careful. You set your purse on the counter and grab food from the fridge to make a sandwich with. Your phone rings and you pause opening up the deli meat you got last week. Something about that ring doesn’t sit well with you even though you don’t know who it is. You set the food down and walk over to your phone to see a number you don’t recognize.

You let it go to voicemail.

Whoever it is calls again. Your gut is telling you not to answer it but you do it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Where is Steve, prinţesă?”

You immediately hang up the call and toss your phone into the sink. They found you. You turn the sink on to drown the phone before grabbing only the necessities: wallet and passport. Everything else, you can get in another country. You don’t even bother locking the door on your way out knowing they’ll break it down to get inside.

You start the walk to the airport, periodically looking behind you to see if you’re being followed. There are taxis driving down the road, and you debate on whether or not to stop one. On the one hand, you need to get to the airport as fast as possible. On the other hand, you only have enough cash for a plane ticket and you’re scared they’ll find you through card purchases.

Escape. That’s all you need to do. You can figure out the rest later.

You flag down a passing taxi and immediately hop in without thinking. New York has made van taxis to hold more people which is the kind of taxi you just jumped into.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asks.

“JFK, please.”

The man drives off, and you look out the window in concern. You won’t relax until you’re in a different country. You moved here from Russia decades ago for someone you shouldn’t have been involved with in the first place. One second you’re enjoying the view and the next second, you’re passed out in the back of the taxi. You didn’t even check to see if there was anyone in the back seat.

There was.

You wake up to see a mesh covering over your head. Someone yanks it off and you look around the dark room. Despite there only being one light, you have to squint your eyes and wait for them to adjust to the lighter setting. A black man walks around to the front of you, and you glare at the stranger.

“What the hell is going on? Who are you?”

“The name is Sam.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Where’s Steve?”

You go rigid at the name but you try not to let it show how scared and annoyed you are. Scared for the dangerous people that tend to follow Steve and annoyance at the situation you’re in. Still, you try to play dumb knowing it won’t work but hoping it will.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have time to play games, Y/N. Where the hell is Steve? I know he’s not in prison anymore.”

“If he wanted you to know where he is, he would have told you. Guess you’re not BFF material.”

“How are we doing, boys?” Natasha says in Sam’s earpiece.

“She’s not talking.”

You’re about to say something when someone walks into the room. The one person on Steve’s shitlist. You heard a lot about the Winter Soldier but never had the misfortune of meeting him. Bucky oozes confidence and power. He doesn’t demand it, he owns it. Well, you’re not going to give it to him. He walks over with a laptop in one hand and a gun in the other.

“She’s about to,” Bucky says while looking at you.

He lays the laptop on the table and walks over to the window to peer through the boards. Wherever you are must be in a sketchy area because you can hear what sounds like screams and arguments coming from the street. They must have raided your house because that’s the laptop you used to do business with Steve. You kept it per his instruction if he ever went to prison.

Sam opens the laptop and presses a few buttons which prompts the fingerprint scan you encoded on it. He holds out his hand for yours but you don’t move an inch.

“Give me your hand,” he says in a calm voice.

“Or what? You’ll cut it off?”

“Not my style.” He smirks. “He might.”

You look at Bucky with a glare.

“I’m not a patient man, Y/N. Be a good girl and give him your hand. You don’t want me coming over there.”

With a defeated sigh, you give Sam the one thing he needs to access your laptop. As soon as it’s unlocked, you yank your hand back. Sam hacks into the bank accounts you used to help Steve move his money. After he was caught, you made sure there was enough money in his account to get him out, but no one knows where he went. You do but the last thing you’re going to do is tell them. Steve will contact you when he needs you.

“We’re in,” Natasha says.

“Nothing in my banking will get you any closer to Steve.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sam says.

“There are multiple Hydra accountants hiding in plain sight. Several recent wire transfers for more than ten million dollars to a secure network over several islands in the South Pacific, and one big transfer of twenty million to an offshore account. An account that’s known to the Raft,” Natasha explains.

“Money for Steve’s escape,” Sam says and looks at you.

“What can I say? Wealth opens doors,” you shrug.

“Fine. Let’s withdraw a few dollars from Steve’s account, shall we?”

Sam sits back and lets Natasha remove the money from her side.

“Done. Let me know if we’ve hit a nerve.”

“Eighty-five million transferred to a CIA black fund.”

You look at Bucky who paces the room looking out the windows as if he’s expecting someone to come barging in. His grip tightens on the gun which tells you they’re on a timetable. If you can stall, you might make them run out of time for whatever they’re waiting for. You can’t help but laugh at the situation.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky asks.

“Steve’s… work… is already bought and paid for. You two must be a pair of dumbasses if you think stealing from Steve will make me talk. You’re ruining his future, not mine.”

You realize your mistake as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Did you hear that, Sam?” Natasha smirks.

“I did.”

“Let’s make this personal, then.”

“We need to go,” Bucky says. “Either make this happen now or we take her with us.”

Sam hacks into your personal accounts, and you sigh silently.

“This is your personal account, huh?” he smirks. “Money’s hardly been touched. Shall we change that?”

You glare at Sam as hard as you can and curse at them in Russian.

“Looks like we found our pressure point, boys,” Natasha chuckles.

“Let’s drain it.”

Sam grabs your hand for fingerprint access but you yank your hand back.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you snap.

“Something wrong, Ms. Y/N?” Bucky smirks.

“I don’t know what Steve’s plans are, okay? I am just his financer! Nothing more!”

Bucky walks over to you and grips his gun even tighter, but he doesn’t need that to come off as intimidating.

“Give him your print,” he says with a threatening tone.

“Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me.”

Bucky grabs your chin harshly and forces you to look at him. “Give him your print or you die.”

You chuckle. “Good luck finding Steve after I’m dead. I’m the only one who can help you find him and you know this. Fuck you and that little birdie you’ve got in your ear. That money is mine! I fought for it. I earned it!”

“One more push and we’ve got her,” Natasha chuckles.

“One last chance or he takes over,” Sam says.

Bucky gestures for Sam to move which he does. He hands Sam his gun before taking a seat in front of you. Sam walks behind you and grabs your shoulders to keep you from going anywhere. Bucky grabs your right hand with his and whips out a knife with his left. To your horror, he starts slicing your skin on your wrist, but he doesn’t get very far.

“Okay! He’s in Siberia!” Bucky stops slicing but doesn’t put the knife away. “There’s a wire transfer to the Hydra base there. It’s abandoned so I don’t know what he’s doing there. That’s all I can tell you.”

“I see it. That’s all we need,” Natasha says.

Sam closes your laptop and takes it with him. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Fuck you,” you growl.

“I can see why Steve valued you,” Bucky chuckles. “Bring her with us.”

“What?” you gasp. “I told you where he is!”

“Bad girls don’t get rewarded. Let’s go. You’re going to help me find Steve, and then you’re going to help me bring him down once and for all. He stole from me, and I’m going to steal it back.”

Your worst nightmare is coming true. For Steve never stole from him. It was you.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[moonydustx]

The night cook.

masterlist | requests here

Summary: Insomnia has struck one of the crew and Sanji is willing to find out. Meanwhile, you try to deal with your fear as best you can.

Warnings: I don't know, mention of clowns maybe (yes, exactly what you're thinking).

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader.

A/N: I have a new obsession and I need to write more and more. I watched the series in one day and now I'm racing against time to catch up with the anime (and soon move on to the manga). It has not been proofread so I apologize for possible errors.

Part 2 here

Sanji was starting to get stressed.

Despite the short time he had been part of the crew, he already knew where he belonged: the kitchen. He could spend hours there and felt comfortable. But something bothered him. Every morning, some fruit always appeared cut, food scraps in the trash, his knives disorganized. He wouldn't look for trouble right away, but he was aware of every move.

Your steps dragged to the kitchen, after another bad night's sleep. The dark circles under his eyes were visible from afar, as was his bad mood.

"Good morning madame! Glad you joined us today for coffee." Sanji caught your attention, placing your plate in front of you.

"Good morning sunshine, your mood seems to brighten the day." Zoro teased you, only earning an eye roll.

You stared at the food in front of you. They looked appetizing, but hunger seemed to be nowhere in your body. You rolled them from one side to the other, without removing any pieces, while heard the others talking in the distance.

"Everything is fine?" The cook's voice caught your attention, a quick glance was enough to realize that the others had already eaten their meals. "Sorry to say ma'am, but you look tired."

"It's okay Ji. I'm just discouraged." You stand up, handing the plate back to him. "They look delicious, but I'm out of food, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, my sweet. I heard that if you eat with a full stomach, or in your case without hunger, you can't enjoy the food and the last thing I want is for you to not like one of my dishes ." He leaned on the table, watching you.

"That's impossible. I could eat anything you make, as long as it's you making it."

It had been a while since the two of you exchanged small gestures, small flirtations. Unlike most other women, you weren't bothered by what he said. You felt seen, admired like never before, even though you knew he would say that to a thousand others. Plus, it was fun to see him shy with your answers.

"So... What can I do special for you today. Choose and I'll do it."

"Surprise me!"

You left it in the kitchen and if you looked back, you could see it lost in your image. None of the other beauties would be like that beauty, her beauty. Even though he was still lost, Sanji tried to regain his thoughts, thinking about the perfect lunch.

You got caught up in the tasks on the boat, all to keep the tiredness out of your body. Despite having heard the call for lunch you decided to postpone it, as well as dinner.

When you returned to bathe, you could see that everyone had retired to their rooms. Even with the most comfortable clothes, the coziest sheet and the cool sea breeze coming through the window, it only took a few minutes of sleep for you to wake up sweating, scared.

You were tired of it would be another wasted night. You got up and went towards the kitchen, since sleep didn't decide to appear that night, hunger had already taken its place and a salad would go well at that moment.

You gathered some radishes to cut and a few slices later, you felt the knife against your skin and was scared.

"So you're the cook for the night!" Sanji spoke suddenly.

Before you could curse him for his fright you had to hold back a scream due to the inconvenience of the pain.

"Shit, let me see." in a matter of seconds, he was already in front of you , holding your injured hand.

"It was nothing, you can rest."

"That, young lady, I will decide later." he gently placed a cloth in your hand, pressing it. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep, I decided to prepare something."

"Honey, what's been going on?" He took your hand again, removing the cloth. "Okay, I have the solution to mine and your problem."

He took you by the hand to the bench, placing you in a sitting position, returned to the kitchen, placing a small container to heat and disappeared from sight for a few seconds, returning with a small box in his hands. It brought everything in front of you, allowing you to see what it was really about. A small box with bandage and a small plate with lasagna.

"I saved it from lunch for you, I think you'll like it."

"You know you're my favorite. Shit!" you immediately regretted trying to use your injured hand to eat.

"Now, we'll fix this." The cut was small but uncomfortable and felt a little deep.

You watched him bend down to your height and tend to the small wound like something precious while you ate. The silence between you didn't last long, against your will.

"When are you going to tell me what's been going on? You know, we're friends." Sanji charged, finishing applying the last strip. "Something is wrong with you and I can't figure it out. Besides, you've been destroying my onions in your nightly escapes."

"I'm having some trouble sleeping..." you tried to leave the explanation superficial, but the look in his eyes made it very clear that he wouldn't just buy that.

"You could have told me, you could have made me some tea or something that would help."

"It's not that." You pushed the plate away and straightened up, trying to look away from Sanji. Shame already dominated your body at that time. "It's a stupid thing."

"No mon amour, it's not. I'm here, talk to me."

"There's only one thing in the world that I'm afraid of: clowns. Be they the cute ones or the psychopaths alike..."

"Buggy. Has he been a problem?" Sanji tried to understand, although it didn't make sense since the crew hadn't seen him in days.

"First we were trapped in his circus and it was horrible. Then we had his head on board and I was sure that at any moment he was going to appear. Now, I can't stop having vivid nightmares about it." you confessed, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "I can't sleep, so I come here at night and I always cook something. I usually watch you cook and it seems like something so relaxing, so good. It hasn't helped me much with my sleep, but at least I've been eating some of the inedible things I make ."

"I bet they're as good as the ones I make and if you don't mind, I'd love to cook with you one of these nights." he winked, eliciting a smile from you. "But for tonight, we need to sleep, finish your plate and I'll be right back with something."

A few minutes and mouthfuls later, Sanji appeared with two mugs, with some hot liquid inside them.

"Herbal tea. It'll help you fall asleep."

"I have my doubts, but…" you took a sip of the sweet drink. "It doesn't hurt to try. Are you sleep deprived too?"

"Not really, I just couldn't leave a lady drinking alone."

"If this works, I promise to buy you the next drink at a bar."

"Wait. This a date?" he asked and if it were possible, you would see hearts instead of his eyes.

"We have the drink." you pointed to the two mugs. "We had dinner." You pointed to the lasagna. "Sounds like a date."

"That miserable clown at least did one good thing"

"Don't ruin the moment, Ji."

The two of you finished your drinks in silence, a few glances exchanged were enough to get comfortable together. Sanji picked up the dishes on the table and you followed him with slower steps.

"Thank you for helping me."

"Who said our date is over?" he turned around, grasping his arm for you to intertwine. "I would never let a lady go alone to her chambers."

"You are a gentleman."

"Only for you amour." He stopped in front of your door. "It's delivered and safe."

You stood on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, really." You opened the door and before you could enter, you turned around. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Whatever madam wants."

"You can stay here for a while, just until I sleep."

"Of course sweetheart" He walked you into the room.

You straightened the bed and lay down on one end, watching him just stare at you, waiting for some sign that he could sit down.

"Please be my guest."

He lay down and almost automatically gave way for you to snuggle against his chest. Your laughter was suppressed when you saw him smiling widely at the contact.

"A few drinks, a dinner..."

"And you ended up in my bed." your voice was already sleepy. Maybe because of the tea, but something said it was more because of the company.

"And I ended up in the perfect place." reciprocating your gesture just now, in the little conscience you had left, you felt his lips touch your forehead. "Sleep missus. I promise not to let any harm come."

[ebsmind]

⏾ SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE, GOT A SENSE I'VE BEEN BETRAYED | jack hughes x singer!reader

summary : how y/n found out vince cheated the first time

word count : 1.3k

warning(s) : cheating (poor baby y/n ☹️), arguing, mentions of k wording Vince, Vince is a fucking asshole (sorry lol), crying (i hate to see my baby sad)

a/n : AHHHHHHH okay okay this is my first written part and I hope I did it justice bc as much as I love angst, it's hard to write it! anyways, I'm glad I decided to do this because it challenges me to not only go deeper for yall to understand reader it also kinda makes you see what she had to put up with (what the fuck vince) okay that's all I had to say! send me asks about this series bc I love talking about teehee OKAY BYE ILY

series masterlist

The stars glisten upon the midnight-colored skies. The clock that sits on your nightstand on the right side of the bed, has officially struck midnight, signifying a new day. You turn a page of the book you're reading, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a re-read. The early January winds whip through the city of Seattle. Draped upon you is a lavender-colored fuzzy knitted blanket. Handmade by Vince's mom, Tracy.

In the far distance, you can hear the water leaving the showerhead; Vince is taking a shower. The thought of joining him crosses your mind, but you shake the thought away and continue reading. You go to turn the 129th page, but Vince's phone dings before the next page is revealed. It takes a small fragment of a moment for your eyes to find where it sits. Once you do, you make a B-line to its location. You don't notice how his phone was placed face down until you reach the dresser.

Your eyes burn holes into the back of the phone. The clock is ticking. The more time passes, the less time you have to decide whether or not you're going to snoop through your boyfriend's phone. Your internal dialogue fights between two actions: Pick up the phone and read the text messages waiting for a response, or ignore it and continue reading your book. The little devil on your right shoulder wins the battle.

Before you even think about any consequences if Vince were to catch you, you find your right hand already reaching for the phone. The screen illuminates your face, reflecting against the blue lenses that sit across the bridge of your nose. The first thing you notice is the time, 12:34 am. Who in the hell is texting him at this time? The second thing you notice is how Vince no longer has you as his lock screen. Instead, you're faced with a picture of him on a golf course with some of his buddies. If it weren't for the worry about who was texting Vince this late a night, you probably would have cared. The third and final thing you notice is the simple "D" that had given him a notification four minutes ago. You don't have to unlock Vince's phone to read the message, FaceID recognized your face the moment you picked up the phone.

D

goodnight, can't wait to see you tomorrow 💋

*one image*

Waves of anxiety hit you like a tsunami. You reread the text message over and over, thinking that it'll change every time your eyes scan the last half of the message. It's imprinted into your mind, no matter how hard you try, it will never go away. The thought of pressing the message to fully see the picture makes bile rise up in your throat. Knowing it most likely contained some type of nude picture. Whether it was a picture of some nice expensive midnight blue lingerie, maybe even clear water teal, or a picture of the girl's tits, it was going to taint you for eternity. You weren't stupid. Things like this happen to stupid girls, but not you. It couldn't.

You don't hear the water coming to an abrupt stop or Vince walk into the room until he questions what you're doing. "Why do you have my phone?"

Your head whips up to where Vince stands, at the door frame that connects his master bedroom to the master bathroom. His light caramel curls rest on his forehead, beads of water drip down his chest, and his right hand rests on the knot in the towel that's wrapped around his waist. You don't realize the tears that started falling just moments ago until Vince asks, "Why are you crying?"

The gut-wrenching sadness you once felt slowly simmers down and a deep rust color of rage clouds your vision. Without delay, you chuck Vince's phone at his chest and scoff.

"Why do you fucking think?" You wipe the tears that stream down your face with the sleeve of your cream-colored cotton long sleeve, mascara ruins the once-clean shirt. Vince contemplates whether he wants to deny or openly be truthful with you, he unfortunately chooses the first option.

"Babe, come on!" He looks away from the lasers that are practically coming out of your eyes. He knows deep down he's screwed.

"No, Vince! You fucking listen to me! You better be so fucking grateful that I leave first thing in the morning because I'd probably kill you if I didn't!" Lungs working overtime so you can get all of that out in one go. Vince still stands at the doorframe, he doesn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Who is she?" The question leaves your mouth under a breath, afraid of the answer that might leave Vince's mouth.

"I'm not telling you that." It leaves Vince's mouth at lightning speed, but you move even faster. Your feet carry you rapidly to where Vince stands, once he's in arm's reach, your hands start hitting his chest. You switch between curling your hands into a fist and punching, to slapping his chest. Uncontrollable sobs leave the depths of your chest, and tears cloud your vision to the point where you can only make out the silhouette of the man you never would have thought would betray you.

"I lo-lo-loved you! An-and you d-d-do this to me?!" Your sobs interrupt your ability to say the sentence in one go. Your body finally begins to feel the heartbreak. Your chest and nostrils burn, your head finally starts to pound, and your legs start to feel like jelly. Letting the sobs control your body and legs giving out, you finally accept defeat.

Your eyes close and you start to drop to the ground, this is a fight you aren't going to win. You wait for your body to hit the ground but it never comes, instead you're met with Vince's damp hands on your arms. He steadies you, "Woah, hey there. You're okay I got you."

Wasting no time, you shove the 6'0 man off of you, and before he can say anything else you spit out, "Don't fucking touch me."

Vince puts his hands up in defeat, "Okay! okay, I won't." Following Vince's response, you dash your way to the front door. The professional hockey player follows hot in your trail.

"Hey hey hey! Where are you going?" He tries to grab a hold of your shoulder to turn you around, your reflexes do you wonder and you shove his hand with all the willpower you have left. Disregarding Vince's question, you take your purse and suitcase -which had been placed right next to the door after you finished packing before you got into bed.

"I'm staying at a hotel for the night." Exhaustion hits your body, a bed -not Vince's- sounds amazing right now.

"No, stay. You leave in the morning."

"I'd rather be in some cheap hotel than spend another night with you." The backhanded comment leaves the boy stunned, you take it as your chance to finally leave. You unlock the door and guide your suitcase to follow you out the door. Vince never intervenes. You don't even bother looking back when you slam the door in his face.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it doesn't dissipate until you're sat on a hotel bed. The mattress is hard, but you've gotten used to it when touring throughout your career. You take notice that the comforter won't do you any justice during the night but that isn't the first thing that's disappointed you today. Tears that stopped falling start to pour again, your chest aches and your heart feels like it's missing. You take a moment to finally acknowledge everything that had happened 25 minutes ago, and once you forcefully come to terms with it, you fall into a deep sleep. Not noticing the 64 missed calls and messages from Vince.

[mcytblrsexymen]

thanks for playing!

(an image ID is under the cut, as well as in the image description. the artists credits and their social media links are also listed under the cut - go check them out!)

hey y'all. we've been quiet a bit. that being said, we have one last thing before we get this event behind us.

this was a really special thing to be a part of. what started as a silly joke we didn't think would get very far ended up being a cultural event within the fandom. thousands of votes, participation from everyone, a thing we'll never forget. we can't express enough how exciting it was to be a part of everything. we, the mods, had a fantastic time with everything. a once-in-a-lifetime kind of experience, you know?

but it wasn't us that made this what it was. it was you all.

we just want to say, from the bottoms of our hearts: thank you. thank you for all the campaigning - for a while, it was practically all we could see. thank you for all the fic - we have a canonized ao3 tag, that's wild. thank you for all the art - several fandoms were practically revitalized by this and it was beautiful to watch. thank you to the ccs who went along with the bit - it was a delight to have you playing in here with us. thank you for the stories you told with this. for the narratives you created. for alliances we would have never seen coming, for betrayals, and most of all for being here, together, doing this. thank you all so much for making this what it was.

anyway, so this art is my thanks to everyone. i commissioned a number of artists from as many different fandoms involved as i could find in hopes of capturing some of the chaotic energy of what might be some of the single most insane two weeks of my life. (and click on the piece so tumblr compression doesn't ruin it - there are SO MANY FANTASTIC DETAILS to look at!)

cheers, everyone. thanks for playing. you've made something special that i don't think we could ever create again, and it was a moment to remember.

<3, second and the sexyman mod team.

ART CREDITS:

confetti @bdoubleowo: goodtimeswithscar, technoblade, ldshadowlady, scott smajor

genesis frog @aroaceacacia: joe hills, saintstarling, itssubz, rtgame, composition, lighting/shading adjustments

siren @chronophobica: zombiecleo, grian, ranboo, tubbo

fluffy @fluffy-papaya: pixlriffs, vikingpilot, zloyxp, rythian

colten @malewifeph1lza: slimecicle, captainsparklez, jschlatt, dream, illumina

kish @kishdoodles and brynn @brynnticus: docm77, aimsey, mythicalsausage, orionsound, clownpierce, eddie the rabbit, owenjuicetv, seapeekay, ashswag, lighting/shading adjustments

td @paradoxalriven: quackity, ethoslab, stage

thank you <3

image ID: a portrayal of the mcytblr sexyman competition, as done by seven different artists, each with their own artstyle. it portrays many mcyters crowded around a stage, onto which a spotlight shines on the finalists. scar and joe are posing at each other in competition. to the right, quackity is climbing onto the stage, boosted by etho. around the stage there are a number of additional mcyters; technoblade, ldshadowlady, scott smajor, saintstarling, itssubz, rtgame, zombiecleo, grian, ranboo, tubbo, pixlriffs, vikingpilot, zloyxp, rythian, slimecicle, captainsparklez, jschlatt, dream, illumina, docm77, aimsey, mythicalsausage, orionsound, clownpierce, eddie the rabbit, owenjuicetv, seapeekay, and ashswag can all be seen cheering on contestants, talking to each other, and watching the competition. there are additional nondescript shadows around the stage in the background, implying an even larger crowd. the image also has the logo for the competition on it.

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)

Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader

Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!

Word Count: 1.6k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)

A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...

Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all. 

Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump. 

For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns. 

When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself. 

Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay. 

Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you. 

Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything. 

Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.

“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you. 

It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others). 

And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space. 

While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it. 

Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance. 

After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side. 

Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought. 

The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy. 

Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?

“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused. 

It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened. 

“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face. 

Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval. 

As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.

“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 2

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: I was kinda putting off writing this chapter because I was forced to write a scene I don't like to relive lol. But anyway, it's here, and I hope you like it. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

When you lost Loki, you didn't have time to grieve. The whole universe was being threatened, there was no time for tears.

It all had happened so fast. One minute Loki stood between you and Thanos, his hand holding yours and keeping you away from harm; and the next, Thor was dragging you away from the body of the person you loved the most, while you screamed until your throat burned.

And then you lost, again; half of the universe turned to dust. It was only one year later that a strange man came knocking at the compound's door with a solution, a hope. But not for you. After all, Loki wasn't one of the blipped ones, though a part of you wished he had been.

In the end, you won the war, and you brought everyone back; but you lost a piece of yourself.

You felt numb, hollow. Now, looking down at your hands, under the cold running water of the bathroom sink, you could see red even when it wasn't there. It stuck on your skin and under your fingernails. For the tenth time this week, you felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat and you couldn't breathe.

The sight was burned into the back of your mind, returning each night to haunt your nightmares. His bloodshot eyes, bright yet so lifeless; his hand still outstretched on the grounds of New Asgard when he'd last reached for you; dried tear tracks on his cheeks when he realized the inevitable; the crimson red blood dripping from his nose and mouth. That was the last image you had of your Loki, as you screamed—you couldn't even recall what exactly you had been screaming—and thrashed against Thor's strong hold on your body, dragging you away so you wouldn't meet the same fate.

You splashed water onto your face, making it hide your tears even though you could still taste the salt in between your sobs.

It's been over a year, and the pain has yet to subside. You've been living on autopilot since the last battle, helping rebuild and only eating enough to keep you going, barely speaking to anyone. There was a hole in your chest that you couldn't fill, a part of your heart that stopped beating the same day that his did. The year following The Snap had gone by in a blur, with everyone working incessantly trying to find a way to undo what happened, and part of you had a hope that you'd be able to bring Loki back as well; but when the solution was found, and he didn't come back, that last bit of hope was snuffed out like a candle, leaving you in the darkness.

People would look at you funny when you walked the hallways of the Avengers compound, you didn't know if it was because of the evident scar running from your forehead to the beginning of your left eyebrow, or because of the dark circles under your eyes.

You finally reached the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a sigh going past your lips. Steadily, you poured yourself some black coffee. Was it your second, or third mug of the day? You weren't sure.

"You drink a few more of those, it'll soon be running through your veins."

Thor's voice made you close your eyes, your back still turned to him. Despite loving the guy, you really didn't feel like talking right now. You brought the mug to your lips and took a generous sip before facing him.

"Here's hoping." You tried smiling, but it came more like a grimace.

A strong hand found your shoulder and squeezed. "Tony says he's worried about you... everyone is," Thor said quietly, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes with his own.

You bit onto your lower lip, nearly drawing blood. When you looked up at Thor, you could see a reflection of your own pain in his kind eyes. "I just wish I could see him again. Just one last time." You shrugged weakly, watching as your vision turned blurry yet again.

In the same beat, Thor pulled you to him. His chin came to rest on top of your head as he hugged you tightly. "Yeah, me too," he whispered. "Me too."

It was on this same night that you woke up yet again covered in cold sweat and with a scream lingering on your tongue. Each beating of your heart against your ribs was a punch. The last image you had of him burned behind your eyes.

You got up and walked to your bedroom door, hands shaking when you turned the knob and when you filled a glass with water.

When you lost Loki, there was no time for a goodbye, there was no time for you to lay a last kiss on his forehead and promise to find him again in another lifetime. He was taken from you—abruptly, and without remorse—leaving behind a gash on your heart; an open wound that still bled.

Maybe that's why, on this same night, you made your way to Tony's lab, grabbed one of the few remaining pym particles, and pulled yourself through time.

Just one last time. You had to see him just one last time. You had to say goodbye, and make a promise.

The TVA found you before you found Loki. You never got back to your timeline.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

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[optimist-pine]

Granny

Summary: You and Daryl have a secret confusing love language of insults

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,236

Era: Seasons 1-5(ish), The quarry - Alexandria

It had started shortly after your first encounter with Mr. Dixon. Simply a passing (slightly pointed) comment - nothing more - as some of you gathered around the fire that night.

Dale stands near the flames, removing a whistling pot from the heat. "Anybody want a cup of tea? Kettle's hot."

"Why dun'cha ask granny over there?" Daryl suggests, nodding towards you with a snigger. Merle's not around tonight, and so it seems he's found a way to create a bit of entertainment.

Your head snaps up when you realize you're the butt of the joke, hands stilling as you set down your work. A crochet hook or knitting needles find their way into your hands as often as that damn crossbow ends up in his; usually when it's too late in the evening to be doing anything else. "You know what? I would love a cup of tea. Thank you, Dale." You reply, taking the steaming mug that's passed to you with a smile that melts into a pointed glare the second Daryl's eyes meet yours.

The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. "Somebody get out tha' fancy china an' the biscuits an' we'll have ourselves a real tea party." He's prodding the coals with a stick, and in the darkness, the slope of his shoulders brings to mind the image of a caveman. The thought amuses you.

You nod your head, contemplating. "Hmm... I'd be down for that. In fact, I have a feeling we might even be in the presence of a tea party expert." You say knowingly. Sophia and Carol sit cuddled up to your right, and the little girl looks curiously up at you, cradling a well-loved teddy bear. You turn to the child, lowering your voice. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about tea parties, would you?"

She curls into herself a little, shyly. But at her mother's gentle urging, she nods her head, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

You clap your hands together. "It's settled then! Tomorrow we shall have a tea party." The last part is aimed at Daryl - you feel proud of yourself, but the confused look on his face makes you question why. It's like you've taken his accusation as a challenge to prove just how grandmotherly you can be, and funnily enough, he's probably right. You're actually looking forward to hanging out with Sophia tomorrow; she's a pretty cool kid.

Carol tuts softly. "After school." She adds.

"After school." You agree, shooting Sophia a conspiratorial wink.

Every time Daryl spots you working with your yarn he can't resist the urge to tease you about it. Maybe it's because you take every jest in good humor, or maybe it's because you always have a quick, witty comeback. He's never quite figured it out, but somehow it's become a staple of your interactions. Even though so much has changed, he's oddly glad that this hasn't.

One night, in the dead of winter, as the wind howls through gaps in the window frames you get an ornery glint in your eye. Daryl's already found your behavior suspicious, whatever current yarn project you've been committed to hasn't made a single appearance the entire evening. And the way you keep glancing at him almost nervously is... unsettling.

When he looks up again you're walking towards him, hands tucked behind your back, trying so hard to look casual that it doesn't take long before all eyes are on you. You stop in front of him and promptly shove a box in his face. No, not just a box. It's a present, wrapped perfectly in polka-dotted gift wrap with a glittery bow to top it all off.

He stares back at you, wondering what punchline he's missed.

You roll your eyes. "It's a gift, Daryl."

"Why?" He asks. He'd trust you with his life any day, but right now - with that box - he absolutely does not.

"Well, why don'tcha just open it and find out?" You taunt, shaking the present just a smidge.

He takes the box, feeling awkward and clumsy as he tears away the paper. Having never opened a present before - at least nothing like this that is - feelings of stupidity and excitement and pressure blend within him.

He dumps the object into his palm. It's cool and smooth to the touch; a black mug with white writing that says "World's Crankiest Grandpa".

You're trying so hard to withhold from laughing that your face is turning pink.

"Think ya could get yer money back on this one?" He asks, spinning the cup around to critique it.

You slap his arm lightly. "Ah, Dixon, you're no fun."

"She might'a hit the nail on the head there." Rick chuckles.

You sit back down, finally pulling out your yarn like all is now right in the world. "Ah, I found it a couple days ago. Couldn't resist. S'pecially not after the dream I had where you were yellin' at the walkers to 'git offa yer damn lawn'..." You shudder. "Took me a bit to get that one outta my head."

That earns quite a few laughs from the rest of the group. Once again, you've managed to lift the mood of those around you. It seems to be a habit of yours.

He turns the mug over and over again, running his thumb across the letters. He knows it's only a gag gift, but he's not blind to the effort that went into it. And it's not an exaggeration to say that this silly mug is by far the most thoughtful gift he's ever received.

He hangs onto that mug, using it proudly every day. Of course, it garners the occasional question from the new folks, but he doesn't mind. Soon enough he's got a matching handmade hat, scarf, and gloves as proof of your continuing love for the grandmotherly hobby.

When the prison falls he misses those gifts severely.

But then, Alexandria. The day he comes across you there on the porch in a creaky rocking chair, with your cup of steaming tea and a ball of yarn, the once-familiar urge to say something a little stupid and a lot annoying takes over.

He stoops down and leans in. "Where's yer glasses at, old lady?"

You wave your hand to shoo him away. "Ah, git yer muddy boots off'a my porch ya ol' geezer." You nag, the smile you're trying to hide peeking out like a sun ray from behind storm clouds. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, clomping down the steps. But it's not like he's trying to hide his own smile or anything... Not at all.

When he returns home that evening, there, sitting on the end of his bed, is a small box. It's perfectly wrapped in paper that's covered in birds and trees, encircled with a pristinely hand-tied bow. He can't deny the flutter of excitement as he plops down to unwrap it. It's like Deja Vu, the coffee mug tumbling into his palm. This time it's white with black lettering that reads "I don't always roll a joint, but when I do, it's my ankle".

With a snort he falls back onto the bed, letting old memories wash away the burdens of the day. However he can, whatever it takes, he'll hold onto the hope that you'll both end up old and gray and worn someday - together.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Do you have any zagreus interacting with other gods? Thanks so much

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Other people are learning about Zagreus.

Not that they know it's him, of course. He goes by the moniker prince.

Just enough to direct prayers and pay tributes, but a nameless god standing against Demeter? It's enough to send the whole pantheon in an uproar.

It's enough to send Demeter to heights of rage that Artemis previously thought her incapable of reaching.

There are gardens that her frost can't touch. Fruit she she has no hand in growing.

There are people who will not submit and die as she wishes it, blaming mortals for her daughter's death and so making them pay the price for a lost goddess.

Not even Zeus has rained destruction upon the mortals like Demeter had and not even Zeus can stop her.

It's too much. Too much taken, too much suffering.

Persephone was a sweet girl. But her loss is not worth the life of every mortal upon the earth.

Artemis is with Aphrodite, both of them having been evoked powerfully enough to send shivers down their spine. She leans against her spear and tried to think of any other way to fix this.

It's a town on the edge of collapse, a thick forest between them and the rest of civilization. In spring the journey is long but easy enough, but it hasn't been spring for a long time.

There's no game to hunt. Loved ones are dying. They beg and beg to any god that will listen but while every god can hear them no god can save them.

None but one.

But how would they know? This far out, there only contact is other isolated villages too deep in the world.

"I'm tired," Aphrodite whispers, knees pulled to her chest, something about her coltish in her helplessness.

Artemis has never tried this. She doesn't even know if it will work. But he won't ever find his way here on his own. "Can you keep a secret, Aphrodite?"

She shifts her head enough to look at her with a single garnet eye. "What secret do you have, sister mine?"

"Aphrodite," she says warningly.

She huffs, amusement aging her. "Yes, yes, my silence or my life. What is it?"

Artemis hopes she doesn't regret this. She hopes it works. "Prince Zagreus!"

"What's Zag going to do?" Aphrodite blinks. "He can't even-"

She cuts herself off and Artemis knows she's thinking through the first part, coming to the obvious conclusion and rejecting it out of hand.

"Artemis?"

They both turn and Zagreus is standing there. Not as image or projection like he was the last time they met face to face, but solidly beside her in the flesh.

He grimaces in pain and raises a hand to his side before straightening and forcing his arm down. Whatever it is that keeps him in his father's realm still has some hold on him, it seems.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," he says. There's blood on his teeth. There wasn't any a couple seconds ago. "Oh, hi Aphrodite. Er. Please don't tell anyone."

"It's you?" Aphrodite demands. "You?"

"I am me," he agrees.

Artemis would beat him if they had the time for it. "Can you help them? This village will die. Word of you hasn't reached them and your temples are too far to travel too even if they had."

He grins it's all red. His blood drips down his chin. "It's not going to be pretty."

Artemis has never thought about how exactly the god of life and blood spreads his blessings. She thinks she's regretting that now.

"Pretty's my domain anyway," Aphrodite snaps. "Help them."

Zagreus moves too quickly for Artemis to stop. He grabs her spear and slices down his chest and then there's blood everywhere, pouring out of him, more than should be in any one body.

Aphrodite screams and Artemis wrenches the spear away, horrified. "This is celestial silver! You can't - even gods can't heal from it!"

"Death heals all wounds," he says and there's blood down his chin, spilling out his mouth with his every breath.

Then he's running.

They talk off after him and it's easy to follow his trail, the deluge blood and smell of copper filling her nose as they chase him.

Zagreus is mad. When she wasn't looking he went insane and now she's killed him.

They have to slow him down, have to get him to Hermes. It should be easy, they're goddesses and he's dying, but he stays fast enough to stay just out of their grasps.

He's lose a body's worth of blood a dozen times over and yet still more flows.

He finally trips and falls, giving gurgling breathes.

"Zagreus!" she shouts as she and Aphrodite fall into the snow beside him. "Zagreus, hold on, it's going to be okay."

He laughs and pats her cheek. He's too pale. "Relax. I die all the time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aphrodite demands, trying to put her hands over the wound but it's too long to stem.

Zagreus doesn't answer.

His body goes slack and it takes Artemis several seconds to realize the person screaming is her.

Aphrodite is sitting there shell shocked and bewildered and then Zagreus's body sinks into the earth, not even reacting to Artemis's attempts to hold on.

"Oh."

She looks up and Aphrodite is looking behind them. Artemis slowly follows her gaze.

Every place blood touched the ground, there now grows bushes of bright purple berries, more vibrant than any fruit she's seen grow that shade. They grow thick and fat on every branch and if there anything like the other food in Prince's gardens, it will keep them alive and they'll be able to grow more themselves.

If they're willing to sacrifice the blood.

The next time Artemis sees Zagreus, she's going to kill him.

[keystonepublishing]

Dirges in The Dark by WixWrites

Before I start, let me just say: Ranchers! Scarian! Hermits and Life Series and Empires characters! Sheriff Jimmy! Sheriff Scar! Criminal Tango! the Wild West! Treebark and Ethubs!

RANCHERS. THE WILD WEST. CREEPING ELDRITCH HORROR.

Whoo, that was a rush.

I'll be honest; I think this book would have come out much sooner if not for my decision to add-in a whole lot of stuff into the text and pages. It got to the point that the original cover would have been a wanted poster at the front and a sheriff's report at the back!

I had to restrain myself, lest this book would never get finished at all. It's already been 59 days since my last post, and doing the original cover would have stretched the days even further. So I had to follow the mantra: Finished, not perfect. Besides, nothing says I can't make another version in the future...

From the moment I finished this fic, I knew it would become a book. But at 143,412 words, Dirges in The Dark by @twodiamondhoes would stretch my ficbinding skills to the limit and would be the second-ever bind that would reach past 250 pages (the first was an MCYT Sleepy Bois fic that predates this blog that I want to redo).

Eventually, the full typeset took up 520 pages! And as such, I finally decided to use extra support for the entire textblock. From an old pair of pajamas, I backed strips of fabric with glue and paper before cutting it into tapes, forming a crucial support for the various weaves along the spine. I then covered the entire spine in brown wrapping paper for even more strength.

For the title and headings, I scoured for and found several typefaces, dingbats, and vector graphics which really evoked the fic's Western and Gothic vibes. I also took some inspiration from fellow ficbinders in the Renegade Publishing group for the style of layout and formatting throughout the book, such as using faded images in the background of these pre-story pages.

I wanted the reader to be immersed in the Wild West from the get-go, so having such images from the start — before the story even begins — felt very appropriate. I tried to make them thematic to the information presented, like a singing cowboy for the music playlist pages, but I think I made the image too faint to be seen!

As for the chapter openers, I experimented with some layouts before finalizing on what you see: photos taking up one entire page on the left with the chapter titles and opening paragraphs on the right.

Just like my last bind, I want to make the reader feel immersed in the story and also bring out the mood of that particular chapter. This, however, led me to entire days of scouting and scouring stock photo sites just to find the right pictures for 11 different chapters. 4/10 would not recommend for sanity.

Given that the story uses a number of foreign words, old slang, and specific Wild West-era terms, I added a plethora of footnotes at the bottom of some pages for extra context and meaning.

I also wanted to be playful and make certain story parts, such as characters receiving letters and notes, really look like they're a part of the story. So I cropped old paper textures and fished out old fonts from the past to make them look as if they're actually there, pasted against the paragraphs!

More importantly, there were some specific parts of the fic that felt super important and I wanted to highlight these passages, especially the Deals made by the characters throughout their arcs. Given DiTD has a certain affinity with eldritch darkness, I decided to highlight such paragraphs by backlighting them against a band of pure black. Besides being thematic as hell, I made the bands have curved edges and decorative lines to add a certain western-gothic touch!

It was from this that I begin to think "what if I can color entire pages to convey the mood and setting?"

...Which led to the madness in these pages. I can't reveal too much because of spoilers, but there are certain times when the characters end up in situations where the very light turns to dark. Or they end up in hellish situations. Or the eldritch creatures began to speak.

It took some creative brainstorming to figure out how to show the mood of such scenes in printed pages, but I eventually figured out that I need find the right fonts, change their colors from black to white, and then change their backgrounds from white to dark to highlight them all! The power of formatting!

There's a lot more pages where I went wild with such shades and fonts, but I ain't revealing in public because spoilers!

But undoubtedly, this is the biggest experiment I have made with this bind. There is a certain part where Grian and Pearl spoke in eldritch R'lyehian / Cthuvian, and I want to convey the sheer strangeness of the speech and it's meaning. Something outside the box.

Luckily, I have an inspiration in fellow fanbinder @mythrilthread, who made an amazing fanbind that used vellum overlays to showcase the speaking of alien languages and what they mean in English. AND IT LOOKS SICK AS FUCK. When I finished reading Dirges, I knew I had to emulate this form of language translation, so I printed the eldritch speech, cut it, and pasted it onto the spine to give a similar effect of strangeness, and IT LOOKS SO COOL!!!

And lastly, I just had to include some of the amazing fanart made by readers into the book! All of these are placed by their corresponding text and chapters, and they all look so cool!

So I want to give a special thanks to @azzayofchaos, @leafdoodles, @hybbart, and @foxyola for granting their permission for me to include their incredible works into this bind! The dark shades and page formatting is one thing, but these works truly make this book feel so much more alive!

All in all, this bind was an odyssey in the making. I experimented with page formatting, layout wizardry, and bookmaking methods that I haven't tried before. While I know I could do better, I am beyond happy to see this work finished!

And once again, a thousand thanks to @twodiamondhoes / WixWrites for crafting an amazing story!

[thisonehere]

Hi there! With the recent release of "Deadpool and Wolverine" a few days ago I was wondering if you could do an HC Imagine of the Lin Kuei Trio x Female Reader where she's got the same regenerative powers as Deadpool but they didn't know about it until something happens where the Reader is severely injured or briefly killed right in front of them and while they're busy mourning their loved one they don't notice the Reader casually getting back up and asking why they're crying scaring them out their stupor and reveal their power to them as is dying via decapitation is no big deal to them not understanding how traumatized they are after seeing their loved one die in front of them. I can't wait to see how you do the reactions of each brother and I'm hoping it's hilarious so good luck.

Lin Kuei Bros x Deadpool(ish) reader

A/n: Kinda dark, I like it!

MK1, Request, Hc,

C/w: A little angst, mentions of blood

Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas stared down at you in horror.

You were lying there beneath them, or...at least a piece of you were lying right there, your head. Another part of you was over there somewhere, another Tomas accidentally stepped on.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Things were running so smoothly, or that is at least what you all had thought. It was just supposed to be an in and out mission, but there was a problem underestimating your opponent and his power.

You were fighting some demonic sorcerer, a part of some trio called "The masters". You had no idea who or what they were, all you knew was that they were a threat that needed to be dealt with.

So you all snuck into their base, you all had made your way sneaking through the base, keeping to the shadows and silently killing every soldier you could get your hands on, until you finally found the main chamber where you target was.

They all fought furiously and prevailed over their assailants. But they hadn't noticed that you were hit during the battle. You ripped to shreds, your blood and guts were everywhere. You head laid before them with a shocked look permanently etched onto your decapitated head.

Bi-Han

No...

He is frozen for a second, all he can do is stare at you body, or whatever was left of your body.

Finally, his hands begin to clench as he begins to flinch. His eyes are basically bloodshot red as he turns and stares down the one responsible for this.

He savagely beats them to a bloody pulp. His fist crashes against their face numerous times, each strike never feeling like it's enough to calm the pain inside of him.

He...he loved you. He never told you this, but he did. And now your gone, he didn't realize how much he'd miss your joking, your smile

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to fight off the tears as he bloodies his fist.

Kuai Liang

By the Elder Gods, no...No!

He falls to his knees as stares in horror at what has happened to you.

He looks into you cold and dead eyes, once filled with joy, life, and ridiculous jokes, now reduced to grey, lifeless without the loving warmth he loved about you.

He thought of all the times he didn't tell you how much he loved you, all the times he didn't hold you close.

He bows his head as he prays over your soul, he hopes that you find peace in the afterlife.

Tomas

...

Swing you lying there, the image of his dead mother and sister flashed before his eyes.

Tomas felt numb inside, he didn't notice the tears falling down his face as he looked at you.

Of all the missions he has spent working with he, never for a second did he think a single on of them would be your last. But here you were.

You were amazing to him, he never of you ever being susceptible to defeat.

He blames himself, if only he could do something, if only he was stronger for you, then this would've never happened.

"Hey, Guys!"

At the sound of your voice, all the Lin Kuei boys jumped. Bi-Han stopped brutalizing the poor guy and Kuai stopped praying.

They stare at you with a mixture of horror and Confusion. You just stare back with a aloof grin on your face.

Tomas runs over to you, his eyes darts from this part of your body to another. "I-I don't understand, h-how.."

"How what?" You stare back, oblivious to their horror and confusion. "Your head was ripped off and your body was torn apart!" Kuai Yells, his eyes wide with conflict. He doesn't know if he should be happy or upset. You being all nonchalant and ignorant about the whole thing doesn't help.

"Oh, yeah, not one of my finest moments. But I'm back now." They continue to stare at you in disbelief.

At that second you suddenly realized why they were staring at you. "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. I can regenerate and heal and all that fun stuff." You say with a smile, you were just brutalized and ripped to shred yet you acted like it was another Tuesday.

Kuai and Tomas just stared at you in disbelief. They couldn't find the right words, what could they say? This whole thing was just bizarre.

Bi-Han is the first to finally react. He drops his victim and anger approaches you, his fists clenched tighter.

He stares you down with fire blazing in his eyes. Then, he wraps his arms around you and holds you close, much to everyone's surprise.

"Bi-Han, I-" you try to say, him hugging you making you realize the gravity of the situation. "Do that to me again and I'll rip your head off myself." He says, yet you sense the relief in his voice.

At the sight of Bi-Han embracing you, Kuai and Tomas stop being upset, and remember how happy they are that you're alive. "These powers you have, they are...strange to say the least...but you are alive and that is all I care about." He gives you a smile

Tomas smiles at you as he wipes the tears from his eyes. "Um, Y/n...I might have some of you on my shoes."