#then I need you to sit down and do a little more self reflection

[merakimaiden]

Mando’s Girl

Pairing : Din Djarin x fem!reader

Genre : Smut (18+)

Word count : 4078 (longest fic yet holy hell)

Summary : Catching you crying over your ex who doesn’t give a shit about you, secrets are revealed as your boss proves just how much he doesn’t deserve you.

Warnings : insecure reader, sweet but super possessive Din (lowkey some jealousy), praise, spanking, body worshipping if you squint, oral sex (f receiving), choking, rough sex, squirting, and kinky sex tape making 😎

A/N: Getting back into writing after a year, forgive me if it sucks. Missing Din, Grogu and the Razor Crest. Lowkey dubcon, lowkey self indulgent, lowkey a badly written fic, my first Din smut lmao I just need Din to fuck some sense into me Din calls you mesh’la many times cause you are :3

Translations : mesh’la (beautiful)

Hey, you there?

[Delivered 8 hours ago]

You checked the message, sighing as you did. You were sitting on a crate in the Razor Crest’s hull. You just finished doing the necessary chores around the ship. You fed the child, gave him a bath, as well as prepared a meal for your employer. You finished all that and more in the span of eight hours, and he couldn’t even be bothered to reply.

You hovered your thumbs over your datapad, carefully thinking of what to text. You quickly typed out a few messages at one go, immediately sent it then placed your datapad face down to avoid thinking about it.

You looked around the hull, fiddling with your fingers as you searched for something to do, anything to distract you. You settled on going upstairs to the cockpit to let your employer know that dinner’s ready.

As you reached the cockpit, you knocked the side of the wall, watching the shiny beskar helmet that was peeking out of the pilot seat’s headrest, the metal reflecting the azure hue of hyperspace tilt to the right before speaking.

“Mando, dinner’s ready, do you wanna have it here or downstairs?” you asked.

“Downstairs. Go tuck Grogu in for the night, then I’ll go,” he replied. You nodded before realising he couldn’t see your reply so you whispered a soft ‘okay’ before heading downstairs.

As you descended the ladder, you turned your head towards the child who was busy chewing on a toy, before approaching him and carrying him.

“Grogu, dada said it’s bedtime.” You pulled his little green hand away from his mouth and placed the toy down as Grogu whined in disagreement. Your gaze softens as you watch his tiny sad face, his big dark eyes glistening.

“I’m sorry sweetie I don’t make the rules, I promise I’ll play more with you tomorrow okay? We’ll even play hide and seek.” You kissed his forehead and tapped the control panel at the side of the bunker door, watching the door slide open before placing him in the hammock above Mando’s bed.

“Now now, go to sleep for me okay? Dream about catching frogs and watching fishies swimming for me.” You smiled at him as you gently shook the hammock side to side, slowly swinging it to lull him to sleep.

You waited there for a few more minutes, making sure Grogu shuts his eyes and drifts into slumber before turning off the bunker light and closing the door. You then grabbed your datapad and stuffed it into your back pocket as you went back to the cockpit.

“Grogu’s asleep, you can go have dinner now,” you sighed as you walked into the cockpit, standing behind the Mandalorian’s chair. He nodded once then tapped a few buttons on the console, turning the autopilot on before standing and looking at you.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a quick smile and watched as he descended the ladder, then pulled out your datapad from your back pocket and plopped down onto the passenger’s seat.

All alone in the cockpit, you shut your eyes for a moment and took a shaky breath before you switched on your datapad.

No new messages.

You scoffed and shook your head, annoyed, but also hurt. You tapped on the chat and reread your messages you sent your ex with glassy eyes, tears threatening to fall. You scrolled up to the last time he talked to you, and scrolled all the way down to the most recent set of messages you sent him. You did it over and over again, rereading the messages as if it will magically make new messages appear. You were the only one doing the talking, all his replies were one worded or he just doesn’t reply, causing you to double text.

He promised to stay in your life. He promised to take care of you. He promised to never abandon you.

Your mind drifts away, overthinking about what’s he’s probably doing right now. Probaby spending time and talking to his so called amazing girlfriend he cheated on you with and fucking her, telling her how much he loves her…

You jolted as you heard the Mandalorian calling your name. You quickly switched the datapad off and turned to look at him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Huh?” You blinked.

His gloved hand extended out to touch your cheek, and as he pulled his hand back, you saw liquid coating the tips of his dry leather gloves.

His helmet tilted slightly as he waited for an answer. You gulped and wiped your tears quickly with both hands before clutching onto your datapad.

“I- um, it’s nothing, just something got caught into my eyes-” you started an attempt to explain before he cut you off.

“Cut the crap. Why are you crying?”

You looked at him guiltily and tried your best to hide the datapad away from his sight as his helmet tilted away from your face, watching your movements before he reached out in a split second, grabbing the datapad from your hands.

“No don’t-”

It was too late. He switched the datapad on wordlessly and immediately saw your chats with your ex, his helmet straight as he reads it. He took in a big inhale, his chest expanding as he scrolled upwards and continued reading.

A minute of silence later, he exhales slowly and gives you the datapad back gently. Embarrassed, you quickly grabbed it and hid it under your thigh.

“Why are you still talking to him?” He bit out as he watched you hide the datapad.

“It’s complicated, okay Mando? I just-” you started.

“Enlighten me.” He folded his arms and shifted his weight onto his right side as he waited for an explanation.

You looked at him and then put your head in your hands, massaging your forehead and temples for a few seconds before pulling your hands back towards your hair and neck. You sighed and brought your hands back down, clasping it together.

You looked at him from the corner of your eyes and watched as he loomed over you, waiting for an explanation. You sighed.

“It’s… complicated, okay? He- he cheated on me the entire time we were dating but I don’t want to lose him, I know I’m stupid. I’m so attached, I need to be cared for, I-

You gulped.

“I’m scared to be alone.”

“You have me and Grogu, you’re not alone.” The Mandalorian interjects.

“I know, but it’s not what I meant,” you quickly added.

“Then?”

“I’m scared to be alone. I’m scared I'll end up alone… with no one to love me,” you spoke quietly, looking down at your fingers to avoid his gaze.

He stood there wordlessly for a few seconds, taking in your words. You took a deep breath, the silence making you uncomfortable.

“That’s not true,” he finally replied calmly, causing you to turn your head to look at him.

“Yes it is, Mando.” You shook your head in frustration before standing up quickly, wanting to avoid any more confrontation. However, before you could get away from him to retreat to your quarters and cry, he grabbed your wrist.

You gasped softly at his sudden hold on your wrist, then pulled and twisted your arm as you attempted to break free.

“Let me go Mando I’m not in the mood-’’

“That’s not true and you know it. We both know it,” he spoke clearly.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you squinted, looking at him with a confused expression, not understanding what he’s trying to say.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking Mando, but it’s all false, I’ll end up alone like I always do, no one there to love me or even think about me-”

“I think about you.’’ He interjected again.

“I already told you, Mando not in that way-’’

“I think about how pretty you are, how pretty and smart.”

You rolled your eyes. What a bunch of lies. He’s just saying that to make you feel better, you thought to yourself.

Just then he pulls you in close, holding both your wrists tightly to make you listen.

“Don’t.” He continues as he places his palms at the back of your hands, pushing them to rest against the cool surface of his shiny beskar cuirass, causing your lips to part as you look down at your hands on his chest.

“I think about your lovely laugh when you play with the kid, I think about your caring nature, how you look out for us, I think about your gorgeous body, the way your hips sway when you walk.”

You chuckled awkwardly and looked away, his fake words annoyingly making you breathless.

“Mando-”

“I think about the way you moan softly in the shower as you pleasure yourself, pleasure yourself to the thought of me when you think I can’t hear you say my name.”

Oh.

“T-that’s not true, you couldn't possibly hear me.”

“Oh, but I can mesh’la, my helmet enhances sounds.”

Fuck.

You exhaled shakily, looking everywhere else except the dark visor of his helmet. Just then, he holds your chin gently, tilting your face upwards to make you look at him.

“Do you like me mesh’la?”

“W-well yeah, you’re funny-”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You gulped, your throat feeling dry out of sudden as you struggle to speak.

“Do you like me, mesh’la?” Mando pressed again.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Looking into the intimidating, dark ‘T’ of his visor, you nodded in reply slowly.

“That’s what I thought.” He tapped your chin with the back of his finger, pleased with your answer.

He continues, “So what I don’t understand is, why are you still talking to that piece of shit when I’m right here?”

You pulled away and shook your head.

“I don’t blame him. I”m so needy all the time-”

“So what if you’re needy?”

“-and the distance, he’s far.”

“So what? I would cross galaxies just to be with you. It’s not a fucking excuse to be unfaithful.”

His hands move towards your wrists again, holding them tightly. You can tell he was getting pissed off by the second, so you stayed silent.

“He is nothing but a fucking dickhead. He doesn't deserve you and you know it. Tell me you know it.”

Silence.

He moves one gloved hand towards your neck slowly, resting his pointer finger and thumb under your jaw, squeezing gently.

“Tell me you fucking know it.”

You nod quickly, gulping against his hand before you yelp as he grabs your neck with slight pressure and pulls you forward towards him, your hands scrambling to take his hand off his hold on your neck before he bends you forward over the cockpit console. He releases your neck, then places his hand on your back to keep you down.

Before you can protest, you gasp loudly as he yanks your pants down in one swift motion, leaving you in your panties. Just then, you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek.

You yelp and moan softly as the pain on your skin is soothed immediately after with his gloved hand.

“Tell me mesh’la, what do you know?”

You stayed silent, head feeling giddy in pleasure and pain.

He spanks you again a few times in a row, each spank getting harder, causing your skin to tickle in pain. You rubbed your thighs together.

“I want an answer. What is it that you know?”

You whimper loudly as you shut your eyes, trying to think of your conversation with him right before he took control. You open your eyes when you remember.

“I- I know that he doesn't deserve me, Mando.”

“There we go.”

The Mandalorian hums in pleasure as he rubs his gloved palm against your sore skin, rubbing it slowly and gently, soothing the sensitive and swollen area before he pulls away for a quick second. As he returns, you gasp and moan softly as his now bare, warm hands push up your shirt, pushing it upwards to remove it from your body completely. Following the action, your nipples harden and goosebumps form all over your body as the cool air of the ship hits your warm skin. You blushed, realising you were left in just your panties, while he was still covered in his armour from head to toe.

You stiffen as you hear the sound of air hissing, then the sound of metal being placed on the console beside you. You turned to look, but was quickly stopped by Mando as he held the back of your neck.

“Don’t look,” he spoke gently, his unmodulated voice catching you off guard, causing you to jolt slightly as you felt his warm breath fan against your neck, right under your ear. His voice sounded so warm, clear and husky without the helmet in the way, making you moan softly to yourself as you heard it. You wanted to reply, but you couldn’t as you felt his lips brush against your skin, placing light kisses all over your neck, slowly moving lower and lower down the back of your body.

You shut your eyes as he continued placing kisses all over your back. He then kneeled onto the floor with a clang, the sound of his beskar armour scraping against the metal floor of the ship as he kissed down your hips and all over the globes of your clothed ass.

“So pretty, so warm, so soft.” He squeezed your ass with both hands and caresses it, causing you to gasp and moan softly before he continues,

“Doesn’t deserve to touch you or even look at you.”

He then hooked his fingers into the band of your panties, pulling it down your ass and legs slowly until they reach your ankles.

“Wonder if you taste as good as you look,” he whispered lowly, just enough for you to catch his words.

His thumbs moved closer to the cleft of your ass, pulling the skin away to spread your folds from the back before he licked a slow strip from your clit to your opening without warning. You moan his name out loud, biting your lip as you rest your head against the console, mindful of the buttons and controls.

He repeats the motion, licking from your clit to opening, bottom to top over and over again for a few times before pulling away with a suck on your clit, causing you to jolt. He immediately goes back in, circling his tongue around your clit, causing your legs to tremble before he pushes his tongue against your opening slightly, twirling his tongue around as you moan and whine in pleasure.

You arch your back involuntarily, the motion pushing your pussy backwards into his face as you shut your eyes, moaning loudly while he places both hands on your ass to grab it tightly as he continues eating you out.

He moans, muffled against your pussy, sending vibrations to your sensitive area before pulling away with a loud, lewd slurp after a while. He spanks your ass one last time as he gets back onto his feet, then rubs his big warm hands all over the span of your back.

“So tasty, so sweet, so perfect.” He squeezes your ass, causing you to gasp and moan. He continues, “What a perfect pretty thing, I want to make you all mine. All mine.”

You whimper and move to rest your top half on your forearms, nodding eagerly in reply as one of his hands moves towards your jaw, before he shoves two of his thick fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his digits, obediently licking and sucking on them as he moans.

His other hand moves to free his erect dick from the confines of his pants, leaving the rest of his body covered.

You suddenly feel the fat, blunt tip of his dick rub against your folds, coating himself with your wet pussy as he moves it front and back against you. You feel the size of his length sliding in between your folds, causing you to whine impatiently.

“Tell me you’re mine, mesh’la. Tell me you’re my girl and I’ll give you everything.”

You nod eagerly. “Please Mando, I’m yours, no one else’s, I’m your girl please-”

You gasp out loud, unable to finish your pleading as his tip pushes into your opening, stretching you out as you moan. He leaves the tip in for a bit before pulling out, then pushes himself all the way in fully.

He hisses as you moan loudly, your head dropping onto the console rather harshly. His hand moves from your mouth towards your head to soothe the sore spot quickly, before he drags his hands down your bare back slowly, then settles on holding your hips firmly.

“So beautiful, so perfect, so wet, f-feel so good,” Mando stuttered out as your pussy fluttered around him at his praise.

He slowly pulls out until the tip is left in, then pushes back in, repeating the motion at a slow and steady pace.

“Oh, Mando, feels so full, so f- ull,” you moaned, his girthy dick sliding in and out of you, giving you so much pleasure.

He moans and growls quietly as he grips your hips tighter and kicks your legs apart further, before picking up the pace, moving his hips back and forth against your ass faster and harder.

You shut your eyes and grab onto the front of the console as your mouth parts in a silent scream, your breath stuck in your throat. Nothing but the lewd plapping sounds of skin slapping against each other filling the cockpit. You finally catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling before moaning out loud and brokenly.

The Mandalorian moans with you as he continues pistoning his dick in and out of you, fucking you deep and fast. He grabs your hips tightly, before extending one hand out to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you backwards to rest your warm back flush against his cold armour. You hiss at the sudden cold contact, but forget about it quickly as his other hand moves to your clit, rubbing tight circles.

He leans in and rests his stubbled chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear before dragging his teeth against your earlobe lightly.

“All mine to love, all mine to worship,” he grunts before continuing, “to fuck.”

You mewl in pleasure, your legs trembling at the added stimulation. You shut your eyes as your lips part in a gasp, feeling his big length sliding in and out of you over and over again as his thick digits tease your fluttering pussy. Your hand moves behind you and flaps around before finding purchase on the Mandalorian’s soft mop of hair on his head and tugging on it tightly, earning a growl from the man.

Just as you were enjoying it, Mando pulled away completely, removing his hands and dick from you, causing your hand that was tugging on his soft hair to drop loosely on your side. He reaches out to pick his helmet off the console and puts it back on. He leans away from you to leave.

Your eyes open as your face drops. You were about to say something before he leans back forward and grabs a fistful of your hair again, then immediately shoves himself back inside of you. You shut your eyes tightly and moaned his name out brokenly. His pace changed as he growled, fucking you with even more effort, even harder and faster now.

Your eyes fluttered open, only to make eye contact with your datapad’s camera with the flash on.

“Look mesh’la, tell that jerk how good I’m making you feel.” His modulated voice returns.

You moan and bite your lip at the sight of the filthy action by the Mandalorian, going cross-eyed when he suddenly drives into the deepest part of your body and stays still.

“S-so good. So good. So deep- fuck.” You moan as you go crossed eyed again, involuntarily throwing your head back against his helmet with a dull ‘thump’ as the Mandalorian keeps grinding his length deep inside of you.

His hand releases the tight grip on your hair and moves it towards your neck, holding you firmly and pulling you backwards so your face is visible to the camera, arching your back in the process. Your ass extends out even more at the action, prompting him to start slamming inside of you over and over again, slow and hard. Your ass and tits jiggle with each contact of his hips as your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyebrows pulling together.

“Tell him, tell him mesh’la, who does this pussy belong to?” He urges, hiis helmet tilting to the side, resting on your shoulder as he continues, “Who do you belong to? Who gets to worship you and make you feel good?”

You moan brokenly, whimpering as you try your best to reply.

“Y- ou Man- do, you do, f-fuck.”

Your reply was interrupted with every slam of his hips against your ass. Mando chuckled darkly, his hand moving away from your neck to squeeze your tits and slap them.

“Yeah? Who’s girl are you, hm? Tell him.”

He drives himself deeper into you, making you moan brokenly as you feel his blunt tip brushing against something spongy deep inside of you, the action prompting you to feel a tightness forming deep in your belly.

“I’m- I’m Mando’s girl- no one else’s.” You whined out with an effort.

“There we go, such a sweet, sweet girl. So glad she’s all mine,” he spoke in a taunting tone, his helmet tilting sideways to admire your flushed face before tilting towards the datapad at the last few words while he fiddled with your nipples, twisting them in between his fingers as he continued grinding his hips against your ass.

He ended the recording and stopped his motions momentarily to tap a few buttons on your datapad, giving you a breather while he sends the sinful video to your ex before he chucked your datapad to the side. He then flipped you over, your back flush against the console. You yelp and whine as he held the back of your thighs and smacked his dick against your sensitive pussy a few times, giving you a chance to see his thick veiny dick, making you moan before he slides himself back in and starts fucking you fast. Your tits jiggle with every thrust while his hand moves to rest on your mound, his thumb rubbing quick tight circles on your neglected clit.

You throw your head back against the console and whine loudly at the extreme stimulation on your clit and pussy, your pussy clamping down around his pistoning length as your legs shake uncontrollably.

“C’mon my mesh’la, be a good girl and cum for me.” His modulator crackles as he breathes out in between moans, holding your thigh while he continues rubbing your clit and fucking you fast, his pace never faltering.

You feel the tightness build up in your stomach again as your pussy flutters around him. You squeal as your body convulses, before liquid suddenly squirts out of you, dampening his armour and flight suit.

Mando moans loudly as he stops rubbing your pussy and slows his movements, grabbing your tit in his hand and squeezing gently as he watches you come undone for him. You blink a few times, focusing your vision to watch him as you breathe heavily.

He tilts his helmet back and hisses, exposing his covered neck before he pulls his dick out of you quickly, then strokes it a few times over your pussy before spurting warm, creamy liquid all over the top of your mound.

You moan and lick your lips as you watch your skin get painted with his cum, the both of you breathing heavily to catch your breaths. He pumps his dick against your pussy a few more times, slowing his movements until the last drop of cum coats your skin.

You look up at him with your jaw hanging slightly as Mando leans in, resting his helmet against your forehead.

The both of you stayed silent for a while in that position, your breaths slowing down and syncing together before Mando speaks.

“Din.”

“Huh?” You breathed out, in a daze.

“My name is Din, sweet girl.”

A/N : Love possessive and jealous Din so much

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated :)

[thebumblingbee]

It’s late and I’m sick and grumpy so I’m gonna rant a bit.

You know what narrative that’s being pushed that I’m getting very sick of?

‘You survived trump before. A second trump term won’t kill you.’

Because that is so. blatantly. false.

I mean, unless you’re cis, white, able bodied, upper middle class, and in a firmly blue state. Then you’re probably fine. But the rest of us aren’t going to be.

There are a thousand points that can be made here, but I’m just going to touch on what’s relevant to my personal life.

1. Trans rights. We all know that the second trump takes office, it’s one of his missions to absolutely obliterate trans folks in whatever way he can. That’s going to start with stripping healthcare away from them. No more HRT. Which will kill people.

1b. Another thing people don’t think about that scares me shitless: billing codes for doctor appointments. If you don’t know, every time you go to the doctor they submit the bill to health insurance using billing codes. Oftentimes, if you talk at all about chronic conditions or have a diagnosis for one, that billing code will be submitted. If you have ever discussed trans healthcare with your doctor, your bill is likely being submitted with associated billing codes. If all healthcare associated with being trans is outlawed, it’s likely that your doctor appointments won’t be covered by insurance because they have that billing code. So that completely wipes out all healthcare for trans folks, even that isn’t HRT related.

2. Gay marriage, and specifically walking back protections. If something were to happen and marriages would be dissolved (and don’t come into my notes telling me it’s impossible. After Roe v Wade, anything is on the table), people would start losing health insurance. Including me, a person that is so disabled that I cannot work and get my own insurance through an employer. Losing my access to health insurance would actually, literally kill me. I cannot afford my treatments out of pocket. I would just get sicker and then die.

3. Also related to LGBTQ rights, the whole thing about taking children away from families because their parents are queer. The intention is to put these children into an overburdened, abusive system simply for the crime of their parents not being cishet. This will result in the deaths of many children and adults for a number of reasons.

4. This is already happening, but will get worse: all of the women who have died due to their basic right to reproductive healthcare being criminalized.

5. The sheer increase in violence being perpetrated by trump supporters against anybody that doesn’t look like them or think like them. I’ve literally been threatened with murder by a trump supporter neighbor because I’m queer. And the city I live in is liberal as hell.

And I am well aware that many of these things are happening to people all over the country already. I am so, so sorry to all of those who suffer so greatly already. But we are going to see this on a much larger scale if trump gets a second term in office.

So you don’t get to sit here and tell me I’m not allowed to be scared. That I’m overreacting. That I’m a shitty person. That I survived last time and will survive again. Because I, and those I love, more than likely will not.

Until you’ve sat awake in the middle of the night planning how you’re going to leave your home and seek asylum elsewhere, you don’t get to tell me to get over it. Until you’ve had to preemptively rehome pets to prepare to be able to not be in your house quickly, you have no right to belittle me. Until you’ve had to think about your child, who has only ever known your home and your love, getting taken away and having to live in a fucked up system, you don’t get to tell me to calm down.

I am so incredibly envious of those that get to vote purely based on morality, who don’t have to worry about their literal survival. I’m so glad that you get to feed into your own superiority complex while many of us are panicking about the very real consequences on our own futures. Because we have to care more about ourselves and our families. Because we have to give in to the fact that we can’t help everybody in the world in one fell swoop. Putting our oxygen masks on ourselves before others, if you will.

So please. The people telling you that not voting is a smart thing to do are being malicious. Even if you don’t vote in the presidential elections, vote for your local stuff. Because that’s how actual change is going to begin happening.

[fictionalsweethearts]

SUBLIMATE THE PAIN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Sevika helps you to explore yourself and subside the pain and the shame of self pleasure.

Contains: comfort, soft!sevika, unexperienced!reader, wlw, first sexual experiences, soft talk, masturbation, fingering.

A pretty personal fic, tbh, but Sevika as a character seems to be patient and loving when it comes to sex and I'm here to write about it. Enjoy!

Sevika had promised you patience and comfort, a woman with her vast sexual experience knew the unpleasant and uncomfortable details of love. She knew the burning and the pain, the disgust, the sorrow, the shame and the numbness, and for that reason she had promised to accompany you in the process with as much patience as necessary.

She kissed you again on the neck, a mirror stood before you sitting on the bed, Sevika's vast hand ran over your breasts and her grey eyes looked at you through the reflection, inviting you to stop ignoring the signs of your body. Her breasts brushed your back, her mechanical hand gently parted your legs and revealed the juiciness and softness of your core.

"How do you pretend to touch her without knowing her?" The woman asked. "You ignore many things, babe."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment since you had your first kiss of the evening, but you promised not to let shyness win you over this time. It was the third night and the third time you tried, the last two having ended with a sudden lock-in in the bathroom or tears of shame and frustration running down your cheeks.

"I can't. I swear I can't." You cried as Sevika kissed your wet cheeks.

"Of course you can, don't be like that with yourself."

You considered that Sevika could be your mentor in this unknown field for you, the guide that would allow you to understand sex as something more than a mere routine or necessary act. "To begin with, doll, we don't intend to have a child with this. Not even if we wanted to. Second, I've seen as many pussies in my life as I've smoked cigarettes and yours is undoubtedly beautiful."

You laughed to hide your shame, but Sevika meant it. She was decades ahead of you in sexual experiences, she knew the female anatomy in depth, taking the time to explore herself first. Sevika knew that no one could teach her how to have an orgasm, and she fondly remembers the first times she tried self pleasure in the silence of her room, picturing that pretty girl at the market who used to sell her peaches at a good price. It was another Zaun, more precarious, less saturated with pornography and violence, and certainly her brain needed little to start imagining. And the softness of the girl's breasts under her blouse, her long neck and olive eyes were more than enough to awaken that visceral desire in her.

She dedicated her first orgasm to that girl and her peach scent. It was in a way tender, but the starting point of an endless journey through the unexplored region of sexuality. She soon discovered that inserting a finger was pleasant, that if she moved it in a certain way, it was even more so. She discovered that her breasts were sensitive if touched properly, that her entire skin was a map of erogenous zones and tickles, that rubbing her pussy against the pillow was delicious, and that after an orgasm she slept better. And soon, as soon as she was over five foot seven and learned to smoke without coughing, Sevika discovered that touching herself tasted better if someone she liked did it for her.

"Slow." Sevika whispered, placing a kiss on your shoulder. "Look at yourself. What do you see?"

"My pussy." You whispered, barely giving your reflection time to look back at you.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not bad it's…"

"Strange?"

"I don't usually look at my pussy, Sev." You groaned.

"You should, it's pretty." Sevika laughed, caressing your waist with her metal fingers. "Think of all the men who have been staring at their cocks for as long as they've been conscious of them hanging between their legs, do you think they feel ashamed?"

You hesitated. "No?"

"There are two things a man always believes to be true." Sevika said, her tone lighter. "That they have the fattest cock on the block and that they can duel a bear without weapons, and win."

You laughed, your legs shaking slightly. Sevika smiled back. "If only you had the confidence they have in themselves, doll. It would be all so different."

Your expression sobered, this time giving the gap between your legs a longer look, that much neglected organ that deserved just a little more recognition in your life and in the lives of many other women.

"Look at the labia majora, the shape of it, the length of it…" Sevika whispered. "It frames the labia minora, the ones closest to the entrance."

You'd seen them in some anatomy book at the library, but recognizing them on yourself was quite different.

"I should have shaved more." You groaned in frustration.

Sevika snorted. "Are you saying that because of you or me? Cause lemme tell you, a hairy pussy doesn't grosses me out. On the contrary."

"But it does to me."

"Mine repels you?" Sevika inquired, leaving you speechless for a moment.

"No…" you whispered. "Yours… it's yours."

"I see. Now think the same about yours, sweetie." Sevika said. "Yours is what it is and that's it. Don't you dare apologize for how your body looks. Do I apologize for not having an arm?"

And you fell silent once more. Sevika sighed, kissing your neck. “You get my point.”

Sevika reveled in your body, in your flushed cheeks and focused eyes. She loved seeing you present. “You’re already wet.” She whispered. “But it can get wetter. Take two fingers.”

Sevika brought you index and middle fingers parted to the sides of your entrance, urging you to press. “Massage, slow.” She whispered, showing you the movement.

You obeyed, following the motion timidly at first, until you soon understood the purpose. That movement, however subtle, opened a pent-up dam that began to make you wetter and wetter. You moaned, feeling the urge to touch the rest but Sevika held your wrist. “Start from edges.” She said. “Don’t rush it.”

It was one of your vices, quick, silent masturbation. With your legs closed, a hand on your mouth and your eyes closed tightly, as if you were committing a crime that you wanted to finish soon. They were fleeting moments of pleasure that later turned into disconnection with yourself.

But Sevika knew you deserved better than that.

With your index finger you traced circles on your labia majora, slowly while Sevika whispered in your ear, kissed it and bit your lobe, making you shudder subtly. It was a constant and gentle movement, with no other purpose than to explore yourself.

"Come closer to the center." Sevika whispered. "Apply pressure, rub a little."

Your eyelids fluttered at that tickling between your legs, the sticky and wet murmur of your folds that made Sevika moan softly and her breathing accelerate, her breasts pressing against your back. Your hips moved unconsciously, you looked at your hand through the mirror, delicately between your legs with the elegance of an erotic painting.

"You're so pretty." Sevika gasped. "Look how your cheeks blush."

"Yours too."

Sevika smiled. "It just turns me on like you can't imagine seeing you touching yourself."

Sevika was known to be an avid spectator. More than once she would abstain from participating and sit on the couch in the brothel with a cigarette between her teeth, asking her girl to give her a show. There was something about watching such an intimate ritual that stirred every nerve fiber in her. Watching them unfold before her, rubbing themselves the way they liked, moaning genuinely, shuddering, whimpering and sighing, being able to see how their own hand is able to take them on a roller coaster of sensations. That ritual held a power that Sevika was fascinated to behold, and tonight you were her apprentice and her muse.

Sevika squeezed your breast, playing with your hardened, sensitive nipple. She already wanted to taste them, but she had to be patient. The appetizer was your self-exploration, the dessert was her mouth between your legs.

"You know… when there's too much business to attend to." Sevika said, her grey eyes watching you. "I can't visit the girls, so I lay back on my bed with a cigarette between my lips…" she murmured. "And I squeeze my breasts. Over and over, I touch them… massage them… while thinking of old encounters, of sounds… smells. You know how I love smells."

"All of them." You whimpered.

"Yes… from the armpits to the neck, between a couple of breasts and a wet pussy." Sevika sucked in between her teeth. "All of them."

You remember how Sevika had taken to sniffing you the first time she had you. She inhaled the scent of your neck and the crook of your elbows, behind your knees and your armpits. It was a scent loaded with codes, codes that communicated intentions. The pheromones were the best card to attract the most finicky organ of the human body; the nose.

"Sev." You whimpered. "Can you…?"

"That would be the shortcut, so no. I won't touch you yet."

You groaned, tilting your head back as Sevika placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Patience." Sevika drew your hand to the shy hood at the top of your pussy. "Pamper her, that's what it's for."

You traced circles around it, letting out a gasp. Sevika kept her hand on your wrist, indicating the methodical and steady pace, drawing sweet moans from you. "I'm wet just by looking at you." She whispered.

You bit your lip, the urge to grind harder and harder. An orgasm was building inside you, steady and certain, as Sevika kissed your neck and motioned for you to quicken your pace. "Ah, fuck…"

"Moan better." Sevika said. "You can be as loud as you want here."

You whimpered, your hips seeking more contact as you moved and you rubbed against your hand. Sevika pressed her fingers against you, urging you on. "Keep going… don't rush." ​​

"Ah, Sev."

"You like it? It's better when you don' try to cum in two minutes."

You hurried your hand, but Sevika held you back. This wasn't a race and you were certainly getting ahead of yourself. "Old habits die hard."

Her metal hand held your legs apart, her other hand ascending to your chin to make you look at yourself in the mirror again. “We’ll try again, okay?”

This part was the one you liked the least. It wasn’t just the pain, it was the accumulated frustration from past sessions with no results. Sevika told you it was all in your head, that you were just as deserving of this pleasure as others. But you still felt skeptical.

“Middle finger.” She whispered, bringing it to your entrance. “Just press, darling. Soften your entrance.”

You pressed your lips together, obeying her command even though you preferred to rub. You eased the tip of your finger, gently moving it in circles. “It already burns.” You whined.

“I know. We talked about sublimating pain, remember?” You nodded. “Your body is already relaxed, you’re wet. You need to focus on breathing.”

It seemed that when it came to penetration, your body locked up. It was an overwhelming burn, a wall of fire if you will, closing in around your fingers and keeping you from entering. Sevika had tried this in the past, drawing whimpers from you that would never stop causing her guilt. This time, however, it was about allowing yourself to do it.

"I don't like it, Sev."

"You don't like it because you're predisposed to suffer." she insisted. "I know you can, babygirl."

You looked at Sevika through the mirror, her grey eyes soothing you. "Breathe, deep. One… two…" you inhaled, your hand between your legs, the wall of fire present. "Three. Exhale…"

You dared to venture deeper, your walls coupling to your finger as the burn quickened your breathing. "Shh." Sevika kissed your neck. "Breathe again."

One… two… three…

Exhale.

“Ah…” you moaned, inserting the last bit of your finger and feeling the latent but less painful tension. “Mhm.”

“Good girl, look at yourself.”

You opened your eyes, looking at yourself in the mirror. The palm of your hand rested against your clit, your finger inserted all the way in, like a new but unrejected intrusion. “Sev.”

“I told you you could, you're taking it whole.” Sevika smiled. "Can you move it?"

You barely curled your finger, but you recognized the rugous wall inside you. "Yes…" you moaned.

"Breath for me." continued Sevika, gently taking your wrist as she motioned you to curl your fingers once more. "One... two..."

"Mhm, Sev." you moaned, your eyes closing. "Fuck."

"Does it hurt?"

"The pressure." you managed to explain.

"You're tensing, baby. Relax..." Sevika let out a pant, kissing the side of your neck. "You're doing so good."

You endured and took a deep breath, curling your finger against the inner wall Sevika talked you about. You felt a tickle, barely diminishing due to an increasingly timid pain.

And Sevika seemed pleased. "You did good, baby. Rest."

You pulled your finger back when the pressure forced it, only for Sevika to cup your chin in her fingers and pull you in for a long kiss. "Well done." She said between kisses. "Fuck, you looked so beautiful."

Sevika showered you in kisses, from your mouth to your navel, repeating how proud she was of you. "You've crossed the threshold, gorgeous. You just need to practice."

You smiled, feeling the hint of a happy cry build up in your throat. But Sevika cheered you up with another kiss. "We'll try again tomorrow. Sooner than later I'll have you cumming in my fingers over and over again."

You chuckled, watching Sevika kiss your inner thigh. "It's rude to look at the food without eating it, y'know?" you teased her.

"How rude of me." she purred, her kisses coming closer to your wet and now dilated pussy. "You better moan properly, doll."

"All you want."

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[occamstfs]

Conjuration: The Call

Ozzie begrudgingly plays a thinly disguised trading card game and finds some fun teaching his meathead friend a lesson.

Something between a role reversal and devolution! Jock -> Twink and Nerd -> Brute! Hope you enjoy this tale of a wishful role-player growing to dominate a try hard, Best! -Occam

Ozzie absolutely hated trading card games, he missed the boat and loathed being made to feel stupid like they always end up doing. Perhaps some self-reflection could see him giving Conjuration: the Call a fair shake, when a game of CTC was thrust on him instead of the DND session he was coming to play, the man was in not so charitable a mood.

Prepped to play his Druid all night, Ozzie is sulking in the kitchen when his friend Lily, patient zero of getting their group playing CTC again, brings over a proxy deck she made for him. “Heyyy babe~ Sorry about the bait and switch, I thought we were going to play DND too but apparently Mark’s sick and Alex thought this would be a great chance for you to learn how to play!”

His scowl quickly shifts between Lily, her half-hearted olive branch, and their friend group’s surly Adonis, Alex, who winks before returning to set up the table for their game. Ozzie sighs, not wanting to make a scene, he reaches out to inspect the printed deck in her hands. She perks up, “perfect! You’re gonna love it I swear!

The hitherto hater sighs, “ughh. You guys are just going to steamroll me like always! Is the deck too complicated to learn on the fly?” Her eyes glimmer as she slyly makes sure Alex can’t hear, “Not at all! I’ll be right there if you need any help and-“ 

Before she can explain, the man at the table interrupts, “you ladies done yet?” In their running campaign the impatient Alex plays a barbarian which mimics both his stature and nature out of game quite well, in Conjuration however he’s emerged as quite the rival to Lucy. Which Ozzie knows as she begins to explain, now at a whisper, “okay so it’s actually a deck to counter Alex’s.”

She immediately goes to defend her ulterior motives as Ozzie’s scowl returns with a vengeance, “oh c’mooon Ozz, I made this whole deck for you! I found the commander in the bulk bin and thought it sounded like your thing!” Shuffling through the box he checks it out, Loggan the Brain, nice and holographic. He pauses to appreciate how it feels in his hands, heavier than expected and almost warm to the touch. After a moment he looks up to find Lily has already gone to join the rest of the party at the table.

Finishing up his huffing, Ozzie sits opposite Alex who performatively flexes as he shuffles his deck, “Ready to get schooled by the man?” They’re friends at the end of the day so Ozzie doesn’t try to hide his irritation as he responds, “oh I’m sure there’s nothing you love more than beating newbies huh”

Alex takes a few seconds trying to think of some clever reply but after a few playful jibes from Lily and Tim, their fourth player, he decides to save any further taunts for the game. It’s not Ozzie’s first time playing Conjuration, how else would he hold it in such blatant disregard. Resolutely he refuses a tutorial from Alex and Lily. The pair make eye contact as they try to push down the urge to take candy from the new player and instead scheme how they can both use his inexperience to their advantage.

The first couple rounds go by in a flash, the other three begin setting up decks they are clearly incredibly familiar with while Ozzie races to read the little cheat sheet Lily made for the deck before performing a decent opening few rounds himself. Ozzie figures Alex must be running some kind of counterspell deck as Lily’s notes make it very clear that this proxy is a counter-counterspell deck, as it were. 

Lily would never be able to play this deck as it relies on someone counterspelling the Loggan the Brain without checking the specifics, and Alex would never do so to someone with as firm a grasp as her. When Ozzie goes to summon his commander though there's a glimmer in the jock’s eyes as his fingers go to counter the summon before Ozzie even announces, and in doing so he falls into the trap of the deck. 

Alex reaches over to push Loggan back off the board only to be stopped by Lily, almost shaking from excitement as she bursts out into laughter and explains the situation. She points to the ability text Drain: Start of the round gains one “Devolution” spell card. When “Devolution” is used to counter an offensive spell on yourself, put a token on Loggan the Brain. After ten tokens are placed on Loggan the Brain, replace him with Ogg the Brawn.

Hearing his opponent groan from an easily averted own goal he finishes his turn to see Alex scratching his chest and complaining, “I’ve never seen these stupid cards before, are you sure these are legal?” His eyes narrow at Lily who shrugs and tries to taunt him into casting a spell at Ozzie, “Who knows man, maybe it’s not even that good? You should cast a spell at him to see what it does!” With a wry grin she meets Alex’s scowl. For now he stills his hand as they prepare to deal with the quiet Tim as he quickly becomes the biggest threat on the board.

When it comes back to Ozzie’s turn the fun begins at last, launching a spell at Alex who has no choice but to counter, which is of course met with the new player’s own “Devolution” counter. Ozzie and Alex both open their mouths to complain, about the game being convoluted and unfair respectively. Before they can lash out however both men see a token appear on Loggan the Brain without anyone reaching to put it there. 

Only Alex and Ozzie seem to notice the board changing without any human aid, before they can react however they are both filled with an alien warmth. Alex’s hands shoot to his crotch and his face flares with embarrassment. All eyes fall to him as he almost squeaks as his meaty hands struggle to hide the fact that he’s getting obscenely hard at the CTC table, “GrheEEK! AH- hEM” the macho man tries to hide the voice crack from the table, failing to do so they all incredulously stare.

“Psh jeez- can’t a dude sneeze? Fuck!” Knowing they have most of a game still ahead of them no one goes in too hard on Alex, even as his complaints sound decidedly whinier to their ears. Were they to look even a smidge closer at the sscowling man’s face they’d surely see its hard edges begin to soften as his scratchy perma-stubble starts thinning. Alex flips through his bulky hand wondering how he’s going to overcome the pair of opponents, ignorant as his arms are slowly drained of the strength he has honed for over a decade at the gym.

oes Ozzie fail to see how he too begins to shift over the next round. When all hands go to counter a spell cast once more the situation ends once more with Alex being rebuffed by a Devolution card Ozzie drew. Thin fingers go to cover his mouth as he tries to quiet his laughter at Alex’s lips pulling into a pout, looking plumper than usual. Ozzie ignores the flitter at finding that exciting to instead taunt the man looking mousier but is distracted as he scratches his cheek, “Ah c’mon there Aluh- hm.” 

Ozzie pauses as he hears his fingers scratching at, well it sounds like stubble? After a few more strokes he speaks up again, “Uhh guys did I need to shave when I came in?” The party is focussed on his question so they take no heed of his voice sagging deeper with every word. Instead they narrow their eyes at his jawline. It takes him quite a while to grow any kind of facial hair so it’s not like it just sprouted up all of a sudden? Right? Alex laughs and rubs his own face, “Ah Hah! Followin’ the lead of your favorite role model huh! Heehee! Er-”

All laugh as Alex giggles uncharacteristically, cuing him up to go all out and defend his fragile masculinity. Ozzie sits back and watches as him and Lily tag team their fourth player into an early knock-out. All the while though he begins to feel odd? His palms are sweaty, upon closer inspection he realizes his whole form is sweaty. 

Eyes off him he airs out his chest and yelps as he accidentally grabs a tuft of chest hair. He looks down his shirt, slightly obscured by a stubbly little mustache poking out of his upper lip and barely quiets a gasp from shock as he sees a few curls sticking out the center of his bony chest. His inspection then falls onto the hand still grasping at his tee, almost imperceptible blond hairs that have humbly decorated his wrist have lengthened, darkened, and spread into a truly thick jungle on his forearms.

Needing to draw a few more cards to get his target out, Alex can’t help but shoot a couple more spells out at Lily who then redirects them to Ozz. Returning his focus to the board he grunts and prepares to take the hit before checking his hand to find two more copies of Devolution in his hand. He tosses them clumsily on the table and guffaws and shouts in his gruffer voice, “Hah! When’re you gonna learn to not target the man, fucker!” Ozzie reclines once more as Alex ignores his taunts and continues to take his turn.

Half-way to switching out his commander for a card he hasn’t read yet he tugs down his shirt as he feels a breeze on his exposed midriff. There seems to be a volley of new curls stretching above his waistline, briefly making sure no one’s watching he scratches at the pubes slowly inching into a dense treasure trail and almost moans at the distracting pleasure. With each quivering new sensation the blonde curls he has long been proud of darken and recede to something choppy and brown, shrinking back as from every inch of his form curls of the same pervasive brown race to assert his primal masculinity.

With each drag into the growing garden of hair on his waist the urge to vocalize his pleasure grows more difficult to ignore. The stubble on his face continues to thicken, growing into something more than five o’clock shadow that would put Alex’s to shame at its best. Speaking of, as his usual ungroomed stubble continues to fade and shrink into a face shifting as smooth as porcelain he can’t help but stare at Ozzie’s face with jealousy, his cock pulsing once more in his gym shorts and he grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the game and not on how Ozzie’s sleeves almost seem to be hugging his arms.

Ozzie similarly doesn’t see as his eyes are closed to be almost obscenely lost in the fulfillment of scratching his itch. Though he feels it. His arms slowly edging larger, straining his sleeves almost to tearing with each meagre movement. He feels stubble slowly growing up past his neckline, giving him a few stray curls that would need a turtleneck to hide as his chest begins to amass new weight and muscle itself.

In his death throes Tim follows Lily’s lead and forces Alex to toss a few more spells that will hopefully be blocked at Ozzie. Still lost in the reverie of his changing form, Ozzie doesn’t even check his cards as his hand quickly shoots up from his crotch and tosses two cards onto the table. Without looking two more tokens appear on Loggan the Brain and both Alex and Ozz clench the table as they are struck with another wave of changes. 

The other two players at the table are suddenly engrossed in checking their hands, as if compelled to not notice as Alex is suddenly swimming in clothes that he chose explicitly to highlight how built he was looking today, his neckline droops low enough that it should expose his burly-hair covered chest. The only thing it shows now however are two spray-tanned pecs that seem to be shrinking.

Alex doesn’t notice as his shoes almost fall off of his feet as they drop a few sizes, no instead he bites his lip and stares hungrily at the man who was supposed to be his quarry. His cock feels wanting his balls blue, more than that though for the first time in his life his ass almost feels empty, in need of something- or someone. He doesn’t put two and two together as he continues to stare at Ozzie growing hairier. 

The once mousy man finally fills his nerdy tee enough that it begins to fray and tear. Similarly do the slacks he threw on for game day find themselves more than filled with meaty thighs and a package that has blossomed into an absolute veiny beast. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes it in for the first time. His thicker, rougher hands reach downward and with the slightest touch his hips buck and his zipper blows out as his cock strains it to the breaking point. Barely contained in his briefs Ozzie has to ignore the wet patch of pre staining through them and put all his energy towards not cumming then and there in front of his friends as the game remains ongoing.

While the two were distracted by their changing tastes and bodies, Tim was officially knocked out of the game leaving everyone worse for wear. Though after another couple rounds it becomes clear that Alex is very much off his game. His white teeth continue to chew at his plumper lips as he’s lost in thought. 

Ozzie similarly chews his lip, champing at the bit as he stares at the shrinking man. Fuuuck, he’s real cute when he works himself up. His inner monologue sinks deeper in tone to match his new voice as his thoughts grow rougher, simpler. Under the table his hand can’t help but go to his crotch as images of some massive beast of a man dominating the twink push to the front of his mind. Drool dripping from teeth bared onto Alex’s back as he arches up into heavy pecs, as if he were made to be under the man, if he were made to be under Ozz- Fuck.

Alex shivers as the table shakes from Ozzie rutting into it, gasping as his own ass fills out. He’d never really spent dedicated time crafting the perfect butt, or no- is that true? His phone suddenly fills with nudes taken of his sculpted, smooth butt and sent to- Ozzie’s bearded face forces itself to the front of his mind. Alex can almost feel his sweaty muscular chest against his own, his fingers curling around hair that inches up from his ass and down from his shoulders. He can almost feel the phantom cock he’s bouncing on before across the table the only player not lost to their lusts clears her throat.

“What is up with you guys?” There’s forced confidence but something is clearly throwing her off her game. Something’s not right. Is it? Oggie- Er, Ozzie? He’s always been a tank, it’s why he’s been so against playing right? And Alex, well shoot that twink is obsessed with Conjuration since it’s the only game or sport that he can beat his- She clenches at her head as she’s seized by a migraine. Perhaps that’s how she falls into the trap that Alex has been setting since turn one.

“Ah HA! Finally biitch! You played right into my hands!” His voice cracks higher, something in the back of her mind swears she’d never let Alex call her a bitch but as she looks at the twink she can’t imagine why. The cocky sneer remains on Alex's face as his hair lengthens into a floppy garden of dirty blonde curls, after looking at the board it fades a little as he struggles to recall how exactly he’s supposed to finish her, “Uhm?”

He scratches at his head and the sleeve hanging on his thin bicep slides back, revealing his pit as the last few hairs remaining of his once proud tuft fall away, leaving behind a fruity scent that will never quite fade instead of the heady musk that could never be quenched. Ozzie didn’t realize he was staring at the twinks pits as they finished smoothing. Looking to his own pit stains on a shirt that seems moments from bursting off his form, he grins toothily and figures he produces well enough stink for the both of them. His canines almost feel larger in his mouth.

 After the song and dance of Lily walking Alex through her own defeat, accompanied by a fair share of giggles from a man who wouldn’t be caught dead speaking even vaguely ‘like a chick’ before the game, Lily heads off with Tim to go grab pizza before the next game. Leaving behind Alex and Ozzie as the game nears its close. Both men struggle to decide on their next moves, or rather if they care enough to even make them, as the other players depart. Ozzie scratches the back of his head like an ape, apathetic to his arm finally bursting free from its sleeve and exposing a hairy pit that Alex eyes hungrily. 

Drooling and wanting to be done with the game as soon as possible the once jock eyes his hand filled with spells and wonders why he has so many? Was there a reason he wasn’t using them? He hesitantly throws one down and is immediately met by a counter. Ozzie grunts as his form bulges larger, brow jutting slightly over blue eyes that don’t quite look so bright any more. He tears off his shirt with one meaty fist before moving to scratch at the carpet of hair covering his torso as if it were a shirt itself.

Ozzie’s own eyes glaze over as he drops his cards on the table, he want game over. His underwear is filled to breaking and he grimaces before going to tear them off just like his shirt. Grunting he punches the table in shock as the elastic band snaps back against him. Veins bulge everywhere across his form as rage fills him enough to rival his hunger for the twink sitting across from him. Struggling to control his breathing as he sits stewing in lust and anger he speaks in a gravely town as his stomach begins to bloat, “Your turn,”

Alex similarly is lacking the focus to continue the game, tossing his hand down his eyes flash as the remaining tokens stack onto Ozzie’s card. Neither man notices as a final line of text appears at the end of the dense paragraph, “If you lack a copy of Ogg the Brawn in your deck, become one.” He doesn’t read the card of course, nor will he chase the urge to read much of anything anymore, but as the ability is activated OzzOgg obeys the instructions to a tee.

Spit drips between gnashing teeth as Ogg stands to his new height. Waist filling out as he pounds onto the table and he grows into a true brute. The elastic band digging into his waist acts like a flank belt as he glowers at Alex and bucks into the table, making a mess of the organized decks as he feels his mind unable to focus on any pursuit other than chasing his hunger.

Alex stands and his pants fall to the floor, unable to remain on his thinned waist, “O-Ogg?” he squeaks out, what was was a tight muscle tee now hangs off a shoulder, perfectly framing a hard nipple and hiding the noticeably smaller bulge where his dick must be. Ogg knocks the table over and tackles the twink with power he never imagined or desired to have. 

Grunting, Ogg can’t control his hips as they continue to rock and thrust as he struggles to position his twitching cock over Alex who endeavors to roll over and present his perky ass. Ogg forces his face down into the nape of Alex’s neck, breathing in his scent, magically alluring and the diametric opposed to the bestial musk that steams off the man whose eyes dull to a dark brown as his stomach bulges into a massive muscle gut.

Underneath, the twink’s mental faculties grow similarly vacant as he feels the hairy stomach scratching against his back, as Ogg’s massive cock finds purchase and fills him with far more powerful pleasure than what Alex has inflicted on many a partner throughout the years. His moans fill the air, rivalling Ogg’s grunts as the pair leave sweat and cum stains on the cold tile. 

The air of the apartment is filled with Ogg’s primal, almost proto-human musk which only makes Alex hungrier for the man he is evermore to be obsessed with. When his face is shoved into Ogg’s jungle of pit hair he wonders how he lived before now as his cock is pressed up against Ogg’s bulky, curl-covered torso.

Eventually their preternatural lusts absolve themselves and in a brief refractory period Alex rushes to clean up the worst of their mess before the other two return with pizza. Ogg of course is no help as he throws on a pair of boxers Alex would’ve sworn were his own and goes to sit on the couch, arm behind his head to air out his steaming pit and continue to rile Alex up. After righting the table and wiping away all the stains he could see the twink indeed goes to nestle up alongside the man on the couch as he throws on some nature documentary.

Alex doesn’t notice as his head finds itself almost immediately in the man’s crotch as his cock starts to poke out the leg of his boxers. Well, when in Rome- Before they can get up to too much fun, they hear the door being jostled. Alex jolts up and swallows the pool of pre-cum filling his mouth before doing a poor job of hiding the rock hard rod in Ogg’s boxers. The brute grunts in irritation and grasps at his needy balls, apathetic to the return of the other platers.

Setting down the pizzas Tim looks over at the clearly worked up pair and rolls his eyes as if this is normal, “Well are you two horndogs up for another game?” Eying both Alex and Tim something besides the Id in Ogg rears up, still seems like there’s a lot left he can drain from the two men. Bulge already inching larger, he stands and goes to pick up Loggan from the floor. Time for round two-

[marvel-spidey]

We’ve Still Got Time

Summary: After receiving some life-altering news, you try to make Bucky understand that it's time to let the past go. Inspired by the song “Falling Slowly” (in my mind it was written just for Bucky ok 🥺) Pairing: Bucky x reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, lots of tears, extreme fluff. A/n: English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy! also, happy 2025 for us bucky girlies!!! our man is coming back soon! ✨

Bucky woke up to the sound of running water and a toothbrush being used. The white light from the bathroom spilled into the bedroom you both shared. The clock on his nightstand read 4:07 a.m. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to the side, realizing your side of the bed was empty. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wondered why you were up at this hour brushing your teeth. Unable to think of a reason fast enough, he decided to get up and check on you.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked in a confused tone, his hoarse voice carrying the weight of sleep. His hair was a little messy, and his metal arm reflected the soft light from the bathroom. He was shirtless, and his gray sweatpants hung just above his hips.

“I’m sorry I woke you, Buck,” you replied, drying your face with a small towel. “I don’t know. I think I must have eaten something that didn’t sit well with my stomach. I just woke up feeling really nauseous. I threw up, but at least I feel a little better now.”

Bucky closed the distance between you, moving toward you slowly and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. His expression was serious, his lips almost forming a pout.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I feel bad knowing you were sick all by yourself.”

He held your face softly, and you looked up at him, scanning his features and silently admiring how concerned he always was for you. You couldn’t understand how someone so caring could think such terrible things about himself and carry so much guilt when this was the man he really was: calm, reliable, attentive. You prayed he could see it someday, too.

“I wouldn’t wake you,” you replied, caressing his cheek gently. “I know those nightmares have been coming back these past few weeks, haven’t they?”

He looked down, ashamed he hadn’t been able to hide them from you. You always knew.

He sighed and nodded, reluctantly admitting the unpleasant truth. His nightmares came in phases. Sometimes, they haunted him almost every night with terrible flashes from his past – people he had killed, accidents he had caused, futures he had destroyed. Or worse, scenarios in which you would get hurt. Sometimes, by him. Those were the worst ones. Other times they would come less frequently, almost letting him believe that he was making progress in his “healing journey”, as you liked to call it. But they eventually came back. To him, they were proof he would never truly be at peace, never able to leave the past behind.

“Yes, as usual,” he admitted. “But it’s okay. You don’t need to worry.”

“That’s impossible,” you replied, already recognizing his habit of downplaying things and subtly pushing you away, retreating into his world of self-loathing. “I’ll always worry. I just wish you would have talked to me about it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said while engulfing you in a warm hug. He had a defeated expression in his features that made you even more worried. God knows what kind of thoughts he was having about himself. You wish you could take them away.

“Let’s just go back to sleep, so you’re rested and feeling better in the morning. Deal?” You smiled weakly and decided to let the matter go, for now. “Deal,” you agreed, letting him take your hand and guide you back to bed. For the next few weeks, you continued to have moments where you felt unwell.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your body started to feel different. Your stomach was more sensitive than usual, leaving you with the now-familiar waves of nausea. You felt sleepier at random moments during the day, and your stamina during training sessions at the compound suddenly diminished. You felt more out of breath during workouts and sparring. And food began to smell and taste different. One morning, the pancakes Bucky made you almost daily for breakfast smelled “eggier” than usual—you could smell the eggs in the batter from what felt like miles away.

After weeks of feeling like this, you thought it was probably due to low vitamin levels and decided you should schedule a routine doctor’s appointment soon.

But in one of your weekly sparring sessions with Natasha, you started to feel a slight dizziness, so you asked her for a time-out.

“Are you okay?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of weak for a while now,” you admitted, closing your eyes and resting a hand on your forehead in an attempt to steady yourself. “I think I just need to get some blood work done. It’s been a while since my last check-up.” “Weak how, exactly?”

“I feel like I’m always tired lately. More worn out. And my appetite is all over the place.”

Natasha looked at you with a suspicious expression before asking an unexpected question.

“Hmm, feeling weak, huh? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

Your eyes shot open, and you stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. “What?”

“Yes, have you?” Nat repeated, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip with a slight smirk as if she knew something you didn’t.

“I- No, I- I didn’t… My period is only two days late, which is sort of normal for me. Do you think I should?” you questioned her, not knowing if you were talking more to yourself or to her.

“(Y/n) yes, you should! Have you talked to Barnes about it?”

“Not really. I didn’t pay much attention to this. I didn’t have time to.”

The truth was, you and the whole team had been preparing for an important mission in a few months, one that had been weighing heavily on Bucky’s mind especially, since it involved Hydra. The team was set to infiltrate a secret Hydra base in Hungary in order to retrieve intel on potential undercover Hydra agents within S.H.I.E.L.D.

You were almost sure this was the reason Bucky’s nightmares had gotten worse. He tensed up every time you or someone else mentioned the mission, or during training, probably dreading the feeling of going back to a place so connected to everything that he wanted to forget. He tried so hard to hide it but for you, it was so easy to sense his anxiety. The way his blue eyes grew distant, drifting to the floor as if trying to escape his own thoughts. Or how his fists clenched, fingers pressing into his palms almost to the point of pain, while he tried to take deep breaths every time Steve went over the mission details with the group.

“Then take the test,” Natasha urged, stepping closer and putting a reassuring hand on yours when she noticed the frightened look on your face. “If you’re pregnant, you need to know before the mission. And you need to tell Barnes. You both need to decide if going on this mission is still an option.”

“But Nat” you began, squeezing her hand, feeling so scared and unprepared for the scenario she just mentioned.  “I- I don’t know if Bucky is in a good headspace for this now. He’s been so off lately. The Hydra stuff has been really getting to him.”

Natasha offered you a comforting smile, her confidence and support unwavering.

“You’ll both be fine. I’m here if you need me. And Steve is, too.” Later that same day, you found yourself in a situation you never imagined you’d be in right now.

Trembling hands, tears streaming down your face, and your heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears. A white and blue pregnancy test sat on the marble counter of your bathroom. You stared at the word that appeared on the small screen.

+ Pregnant

You froze. You looked at yourself in the mirror and blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t. A wave of happiness washed over you. So much happiness. It was unexpected, yes, but you had always told Bucky he would be a wonderful dad. Yet every time you brought up the subject, he’d say he would like to be a father someday, but that it probably wasn’t a good idea. According to him, he could never be a good role model for a child.

Your first thought was running to Nat or Steve. You wanted to tell one of them and hear that everything would be alright, that Bucky would be alright with all of this. But it was already kind of late. They’re probably asleep by now, you thought to yourself. At the same time, you knew the person who really needed to know about this was in the living room, watching a random reality TV show with Sam.

You couldn’t bear to be alone another minute. The anxiety was overwhelming.

You decided to text Bucky and ask him to come to your room. If you went to the living room, there was no way Sam wouldn’t notice something was up, and you didn’t need another situation right now.

“Can you please come to our room, it’s urgent.” You texted and hoped he would check his phone as soon as possible.

Not even five minutes later you heard the door of your room open, followed by anxious footsteps entering the room.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I just got your text.” Bucky asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Hi, love” you said, stepping out of the bathroom and faking a half smile, searching for his hand and guiding him to the bed. You were terrified but at the same time you didn’t wanna scare him. “Come with me, I need to talk to you.”

“What happened?” Bucky questioned, his eyes quickly searching your face for any clues of what might have happened. You could see the worry creeping into his expression.

You sat next to him on the bed and held his hands tightly. The cold touch of his metal hand on yours offered a brief distraction from what you were about to tell him. You took a deep breath, still unsure how to begin. You decided that starting with some context might be easier.

“So, basically, for the past few weeks, I’ve started to feel a little… off. Do you remember the night you woke up because I felt sick in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, I do” Bucky answered calmly, trying to figure out where you were going with this.

“Well, besides that, I’ve been feeling different. My stomach has been constantly upset, my appetite has been strange, I’ve been feeling more tired than usual, and I–”

“(Y/n), are you sick?” Bucky interrupted, already imagining all the worst scenarios in his head.

“Buck, no” you replied quickly, closing your eyes and trying to breathe to calm yourself down. “Listen. As I was saying, I talked about these symptoms with Nat today and she… she asked... if I had already taken a pregnancy test.”

You paused, watching his face closely for a reaction. He seemed to freeze, taking a few seconds to process your words. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – a breath that felt heavy with sadness. It broke your heart.

He opened his eyes again and they were glistening with tears. His eyes looked even more blue than they already were.

For a moment, you considered not saying anything more, but you knew he needed to hear it – all of it.

“So, I… I took a test just now,” you continued, your voice trembling as tears began to run down your face. “And it’s… it’s positive.” You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, struggling to keep your composure.

“I’m sorry” you said crying, heartbroken because this was the reaction you had been dreading. You felt like you had ruined his life.

Now, he was the one silently crying. He still held your hands, his thumb softly tracing circles over your palm, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers.

“Please, say something, Bucky,” you pleaded, the silence only giving your mind space to imagine horrible possibilities.

“No, I’m the one who should be saying sorry, (Y/n),” he finally said, his voice breaking as tears slowly streamed down his face. “This baby deserves someone better. You deserve someone better.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, reaching out to hold his cheek, your heart breaking at the words that he had just spoken. “What do you mean, ‘we deserve someone better’?”

“Yes! Yes, you do!” he exclaimed, his voice rising as he finally let the storm inside him surface. “How is this baby going to grow up knowing all the awful things I’ve done?”

He got up from the bed, putting some distance between the two of you. He was still crying quietly, and it felt like he had been keeping this inside for so long. His body was facing the window. He couldn’t even look at you.

“You didn’t do those things, Buck. The Winter Soldier did,” you spoke clearly, hoping that he would somehow believe it.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I still did it.”

“Of course it matters! You didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, frustrated at how he could still blame himself so much.

“Everyone tells me that, but it doesn’t help, you know?” he replied, turning his body back toward you. His voice was low. “When I lie down to sleep, I keep seeing their faces. I can still hear their cries, begging for help, for mercy.”

“Buck, I—I’m so sorry,” you told him, holding your tears back again. You’d give anything to take his sadness away.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be free from what they did to me,” he stated, his face showing a defeated expression. “I know Ayo got the Hydra programming out of my mind in Wakanda, but still… it’s all here,” he said, pressing his index finger to his temple. “I remember all of them, and I always will.”

You got up and decided to close the distance between you. You raised both of your hands to his cheeks and held his face gently, making him look at you. You needed him to hear every word you were about to say.

“Honey, look at me,” you began, your voice serious but soft. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. And I want you to know I’d do anything – anything – if I could to make this suffering go away. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain and not be able to do anything-”

“No, sweetheart, but you do,” he interrupted you, wiping the tears from your face. “You have no idea how many ways you’ve saved me.”

He closed his eyes and kissed your forehead. Both of you were crying again, and you could feel all his gratitude in that one kiss.

“You save me every day. It would be impossible for me to survive those nightmares if I didn’t have your face to look at every time I wake from one of them.” He gave you a sad smile while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek afterward.

You leaned into his metal hand and kissed his palm. Your eyes were once again glistening with tears.

“Do you see this, James?” you asked, hoping that he would understand what you were trying to show him.

“This is you,” you continued, placing one hand on his heart. “This is Bucky Barnes. The man who has a metal arm and touches me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. The man who makes pancakes for me every morning. The man who’s afraid of punching me too hard in our sparring sessions, even though he knows I’m a kick-ass agent.”

“That you are,” he agreed, both of you crying and laughing at the same time. You quickly wiped his tears away.

“The man who watches trashy reality TV shows with his friend on a Thursday night. This is you. And this is the man who is going to be the father of my child,” you finished, placing his flesh hand on your belly.

He continued to cry. You just prayed that your words would finally make their way into his heart.

“So tell me, how could you say I deserve better? That this baby deserves better?”

He was still looking at his hand on your belly, trying to understand how he could still be worthy of having a family after he had destroyed so many others.

“Look at me, Buck,” you called, guiding his gaze back to you. “You suffered enough. More than enough. You’ve warred with yourself for so long. It’s time that you won.”

He closed his eyes and tried to absorb the words he had just heard. It was so hard for him to accept that he deserved happiness, but he was so grateful that you have never stopped trying.

“You made it. We’re here, and you made it. Now we’ve still got time. We’ve still got all the time in the world for you to finally live. Your life, how you want it,” you continued, kissing the palm of his metal hand again. It was your way of showing him that you loved all of him, even the part that brought him the most pain.

“This baby is so lucky to have you as a dad. And to be honest, this kid is going to brag so much to the other children about how his dad’s got a metal arm.” For the first time, you heard an honest laugh escape from his lips. The sound was wonderful.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but it must have been something really good,” he replied, finally pulling you close and giving you a warm kiss.

“I love you- we love you.”

“I’m so scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… be a role model for someone.” You could see the worry in his eyes. He was genuinely scared.

“Bucky, yes, you do. You just have to be you. I don’t need you to be perfect,  I just need you to be here. Can you do that for us, Sergeant?”

He gave you a warm smile, filled with gratitude and hope - the hope you had just given him. He looked at your lips and kissed you once more, holding your belly delicately.

“Yes, I can, ma’am. Yes, I can.” he agreed easily “but.. speaking of sergeant, now there’s no way you’re going on that mission.”

“Excuse me? I’m still in the first few weeks of this pregnancy. And how about you? This baby will need both parents.”

“Okay okay, so we’ll let Uncle Steve decide who's going and who’s not. Deal?”

“Okay, sir. Deal.”

Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you had a choice You've made it now ~~ Falling Slowly (from the musical Once)

Feedback is always welcome, feel free to comment, like and reblog! Hope you enjoyed 🤍

[strawchocoberry]

‘CAUSE I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. michael kaiser x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. heavily self-insert/mindy lore, kaiser’s birthday present, fluff interlaced with angst, slow, intimate sex at the end 

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. how much he means to you — word count. 2.4k

December 25th. 

And while the rest of the world is exhilarated, celebrating Christmas, for Kaiser today is just another day. Maybe one with more happiness and whatever is supposed to be this so-called ‘Christmas spirit,’ but still it’s just another day. 

You don’t even realise when Kaiser has left your bed. You wake up disoriented and alone in your bed, faint traces of him sleeping next to you lingering in the room. You take a deep breath and steel yourself. 

It was pure coincidence you found out that today is his birthday. Knowing him, he will just want to spend the day with you, give you your Christmas gift and maybe go out for a little stroll. Not even mentioning that today is his birthday, not even a small hint or anything. Even so, you want to make this day a little bit special for him. But you know you have to be careful and subtle about it, otherwise Kaiser might either explode or isolate himself from you. 

The day officially starts when he returns from the private gym of your apartment building. For all his grumbling about being too much of an unnecessary hassle to decorate the apartment, Kaiser has to take a moment to admire how beautiful this morning is, watching you, unaware of his presence, setting up breakfast on the coffee table next to the tree you had decorated together. So many new things you “forced” him to do, things he somehow found enjoyable. But only because he did them with you. 

The day passes by before you realise it. Despite your protests, Kaiser has bought you one gift, insisting that it’s from Santa, though he himself never believed in the guy. He doesn’t want a gift from you, your beautiful smile as he insists on you opening your gift is all he needs. He had wanted to buy you more gifts. In fact, he was planning on making you a tower the size of your Christmas tree made of gifts. But you had insisted on not wanting any gifts, so he searched high and low to find the perfect gift, something small and personal, something you wouldn’t be able to refuse. 

Unwrapping his gift, your eyes widen at the beautiful ring with a sapphire blue gem curved in the shape of a rose. You’re truly left speechless, admiring the craftsmanship of the ring. Kaiser, sitting on the floor next to you, props his elbow on his knee, leaning against his hand, and observes you with a small smile on his lips. That’s exactly how he had imagined your reaction. 

“You always tell me how much you like your reflection in my eyes, so I thought you could look at this ring and maybe think of me when I’m away,” he says simply, though his heart is beating so fast, Kaiser thinks it might burst. He realises he’s feeling anxious. Anxious that you might reject his gift. The thought alone is enough to make him want to kill himself. 

You surprise him before he spirals down in a loop of self-destructive thoughts by softly saying, “It’s perfect, thank you, my love.” He doesn’t have the time to say anything as you press your lips to his in a slow, intimate kiss that clears the fog from his mind. Kaiser lets himself fall under your spell, pulling you closer to him and getting lost in the overwhelming feelings you pour in your kiss. 

Kaiser doesn’t realise when you carefully pull a necklace out of your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, clasping the necklace around his neck. When he pulls back, he looks down, taking in the blue rose pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes shoot up to meet yours and before he opens his mouth, you shut him up with another kiss. 

“You don’t need to force yourself to look happy or grateful right now,” you whisper against his lips when you pull slightly back, your eyes locking with his. “You can throw this pendant away right now if you want. But I thought you deserved a gift too today.” You pause, your eyes searching his, trying to gauge his reaction. But his expression is unreadable, even to you. “I just didn’t want to be the only one receiving a gift today,” you say with a small laugh, hinting how you knew he would definitely get you something. 

Kaiser is silent for a long moment. Usually, the pendant would feel like a noose choking him, but it doesn’t. Because it came from you. And he can tell you put great thought into this gift and you needed even greater courage to give it to him, knowing he would probably reject it. He’s in a loss for words, a foreign feeling blooming deep inside him. He only nods as a sign of acknowledging your words and gift, but neither thanks you nor takes the necklace off. Instead, he leans in for another kiss. 

The rest of the day passes by in a flash. The two of you spend your time together, going on strolls on the park nearby with hot chocolates in hand and later retrieving to your home for more private moments, watching Christmas movies while cuddling in bed together. You haven’t mentioned anything about Kaiser’s birthday yet, not having yet understood how he feels about your earlier gift. 

Kaiser hasn’t even thought of taking the necklace off. Whenever you’re focused on something else, he absent-mindedly touches it. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s definitely strange for him. He hates receiving gifts, hates to be forced to be grateful for things he didn’t ask. But something about the way you presented your gift and how you didn’t expect him to thank you, it struck a chord in him. 

When the movie ends, the sun has already set outside. You carefully untangle yourself from his embrace, muttering to him to stay put. Kaiser quirks an eyebrow as he watches you leave the room, only to return a while later holding a white thick notebook with blue and red roses scattered all over its cover and back in your hands. You get back on the bed and sit next to him, hesitating before giving him the notebook. 

“What’s this?” Kaiser asks curiously. 

Your heart is pounding hard against your chest. “Read it,” you say softly, though your voice wavers just a bit, just enough to betray how nervous you’re feeling. 

Kaiser notices your nervousness, but doesn’t push you to reveal the reason behind it. Instead, he turns his attention to the notebook. Flipping it open on the first page, his eyes instantly widen, reading the date; the date the two of you met. He reads through the first few lines, before turning to look at you with one of his cocky smirks. 

“‘Today, I met the most arrogant bastard on earth,’” he reads what you’ve written. “‘God, I hope I never see him again. He was truly insufferable. Sure, he may be handsome and a star football player, but his personality sucks.’” Kaiser leans closer to your face, his smirk still intact. “So, I’m an insufferable, arrogant, handsome bastard, huh?”

“You are,” you respond, a spark of defiance igniting through your anxiety. “But now I’m better at handling your cocky imperial ass.” 

“Is that so?” he questions. He goes back to reading the entries in the notebook. Not five minutes later, he closes it, frowning as he turns to look at you. “Are you seriously having me read how much you hated me when we first met?” 

You can’t suppress a small laugh. You pull him against you, the back of his head resting against your chest, your fingers threading through his soft hair, as your chin sits gently on top of his head. “Just shut up and continue reading,” you whisper affectionately. 

Kaiser, ever observant, doesn’t miss the slight tension in your body. Instead of addressing that though, he goes back to reading the notebook you gave him. As expected, the first few pages are filled with you complaining about him being a complete dick back when you first met. But slowly, he notices the change in your attitude, in the way you wrote about him, about the two of you. He watches through your words how you slowly fell in love with him, way earlier than you admitted it to him. 

The pages transform in front of him the more he reads. As your relationship progresses, it’s not just your thoughts that fill the blank pages. The handwritten notes he had written for you, bookmarks of flowers from bouquets he had given you, receipts from places you had visited together and other little memoirs all glued to the pages next to small entries about how you felt for each and every one and how even his smallest gestures made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

None of you realise how much time has passed. At the beginning, Kaiser occasionally commented on things you had written, but the more he read, the more he immersed himself in this small world on paper you had created, the more silent he grew. And when he reaches the last entry, the one you wrote at midnight last night, you’re holding back your breath, your hands stopping their soothing motion in his hair. But he’s too lost in the words inked on the white page to notice that or the way you’re biting your lip hard, trying to stifle a sob or how fast your heart is beating against your chest. 

December 25th 

It’s currently midnight and you’re grumbling about how I’m writing something and not paying attention to you. My blue rose emperor is always demanding my attention. I just hope that now, a couple hours later, that you’re reading this notebook you’ve stopped grumbling. 

I know you think nothing of this day, but I wanted to make it a little bit special for you. I love you, Michael. I loved you yesterday. I love you today. And I’ll love you tomorrow too. You’re my greatest gift and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always know that. 

Happy Birthday, Michael ♡ 

Kaiser slowly closes the notebook, leaving it on the nightstand. He doesn’t move away from you, but he remains silent for a long time. You can practically see the gears shifting inside his head as he’s processing everything. 

‘Happy Birthday,’ you wrote. Right, today is Kaiser’s birthday. After all these years, he had completely forgotten about it. He never told you, because it doesn’t matter to him. And yet somehow you found out nonetheless. And you even wanted to give him a gift, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him, knowing he hates surprises and gifts. Your thoughtfulness touches him greatly. 

He slowly turns in your embrace, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his arms around your body tightly. “Michael?” you call out his name softly. But Kaiser doesn’t respond.

And then you feel it; tears soaking your blouse and his body shaking with his sobs. For a fraction of a second you’re stunned, before your arms hold him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back. A tear slips down your cheek and a soft smile curls up your lips. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head, softly murmuring, “I love you, Michael.” 

Kaiser looks up at you, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears. He adjusts his position, leaning closer to you and cupping your cheeks in his large palms, his thumbs caressing your soft skin. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as if afraid to break this vulnerable moment between you. “I could have never asked for a better gift than you.” 

His lips capture yours in a slow kiss, one filled with all the emotions and feelings he cannot convey with words. He’s overwhelming you in a whole different way than he usually does, making you get drunk on him. Kaiser slowly removes both your clothes until your bare bodies dance together in the sheets. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your lips. He kisses you, leaving you confused about his apology, but you realise what he meant when you feel him thrust slowly inside you, a slight discomfort spreading through your body at the lack of foreplay, but you don’t mind. You need to feel him as much as he does. 

Even so, you can’t help but tease, “Impatient bastard.” The smile on your lips betrays how you couldn’t wait either. 

Kaiser smirks, burying his face in the crook of your neck and peppering your neck with kisses and love marks. He doesn’t move, not yet, giving you time to adjust. Though the way your pussy tightens around his cock makes him groan slightly, barely holding himself back. He leans back to look at you, supporting himself on his elbows, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks. 

“But you love me,” Kaiser whispers, a hint of vulnerability in his voice and his eyes. It’s not a statement, rather him trying to convince himself that it’s true. That what you have is as real for you as it is for him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck gently, pulling him closer to you with a rare smile on your lips, one you reserve only for him. “I love you,” you whisper back and seal your words with a kiss, making every lingering doubt in his mind dissipate into nothing. 

You feel Kaiser slowly start thrusting inside you, wanting both of you to feel every second of this moment. Between kisses and moans, he keeps murmuring how much he loves you and how much you mean to him, his love pouring inside you with each deliberate thrust. He’s consuming you, but simultaneously you’re consuming him. 

“I feel like I’m stuck in a loop,” he confesses in a low voice, his words barely reaching your ears. He interlaces your fingers, holding your hand against the mattress, as he makes love to you. 

You’re so full of him, you’re at a loss for words. For a moment, you don’t know what he’s thinking, but as his body moulds against yours, you know there’s no other place you’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.  

“I don’t know what to do,” Kaiser whispers affectionately against your lips. “‘Cause I fell in love with you.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, plagiarise, translate or reuse my work

[rimatsu]

After apologies and accusations and nippy words and even more apologies comes the time for honesty. They talk for so long Tommy’s voice dissolves at the edges, a pharyngeal crackle seeping into his confessions. Candor feels a lot like being cored. He sits on Evan’s couch split in half like a pomegranate, red viscera exposed — peeled open for examination. For six months, he had only offered tiny morsels of himself, weighed bites meant to appease hunger and not satiate, but Evan has grown gluttonous in their time apart. Tommy is made to dig past the last vestiges of self-preservation and unearth everything he’d kept buried, exhuming skeletons and old hurt from the ground.

It's exhausting to the bone.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus," Tommy says once a hush of silence settles over the loft, rubbing the heel of his palm over a brow.

Evan smiles at him, and it's a touch rueful. "That's what happens when you condense half-a-year's worth of talking into 3 hours," he reasons, although not unkindly.

Silence eats away at the oxygen again until Evan reaches for Tommy's hand, thumb pressing into the blue rivers of his veins. Surely he can feel Tommy's pulse go seismic at the touch.

"We don't have to rush into anything," Evan starts, tentative and placating like he's speaking to a sighted animal. "I— I'll try to rein it in, go slow."

Bless his heart, Tommy thinks, because he sounds like he believes it. Evan isn't capable of slow. He can do undefined, he can even do superficial, but he's not wired for measured steps — his long legs are more suited for a gallop than a trot. Tommy knew that much by the second date. The absence of moderation had charmed and scared him in equal measure, drawn to it like moth to a flame until he realized he'd have to carry indelible burn scars like relics to his grave.

Tommy is under no illusion, but he gives a terse nod anyway, and then he watches as Evan’s lips part around an inhalation. It's that bolstering little intake of breath that precedes the big questions — the same one Evan took before inviting him to his sister's wedding, the same one he took before asking Tommy to move in with him.

He stares at Evan’s expanding diaphragm and braces himself for impact.

"But I can't— I can't do aimless either, Tommy," Evan barrels on, and squeezes at his wrist like he's holding Tommy in place so he can't physically recoil from his words. "I need to know we're walking in the same direction." Evan pauses for a heartbeat, and when he speaks again, conviction has steeled the timbre of his voice: "I want serious down the line. I want a life together, a shared home, a ring on my finger. Kids, the whole shebang," he continues, firm, no stammering in sight, like he's daring Tommy to dispute any of it again.

His eyes reflect the light overhead like glistening jewels. Their magnetic pull is as strong as the magnitude of Tommy's fears, powerful enough that he's considering living in communion with worry. Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat and pushes down the instinctive urge to run for the windows like the building is at flashover.

"There's no guarantee we'll make it far," he warns, because it bears repeating.

"No, there isn't," Evan agrees, like uncertainty isn't frightening or paralyzing. He's terrifying. "But if you're not gonna try anyway, if you're not buying what I'm selling, you might as well walk out now and spare us both the trouble."

Coming back is allowing Evan to become somatically essential the way an aortic valve is vital — it's giving him the power to deal a finishing blow with no warranty certificate. Tommy has flown through warzones, has dismantled and mended himself back into new shapes, has let fire lick at him and smoke suffocate him, but knocking on Evan’s door again might be the bravest thing he's ever done.

He takes a fortifying breath of his own and then surrenders to a mathematical probability.

"Yeah, I can do trying," he says, and it's a meagre offering — certainly not the type of reassurance that would reassure him, but it's everything Tommy has to give, amorphous and fragile but no less true.

Evan is more benevolent than him, anyway.

"Okay," he accepts, mercy shining in the blue of his irises. "That's good enough for now."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"I won't let anyone hurt you, you're safe with me" I imagine this as Sebastian saying it to Reader. But the thought of the reader saying it to Sebastian after he wakes from a night terror (in this scenario, they have escaped Urbanshade) is very sweet to me

True to their word, they got you out.

You and Sebastian were finally free from Urbanshade's horrors.

Innovation Inc. managed to extract enough data from all the loose assets you've given to him to formulate an escape plan.

Thank god you have connections to the labs, otherwise you would have been just as doomed as any other EXR-P.

But you were more relieved that Sebastian didn't have to stay trapped in that place anymore. He didn't have to move from place to place and fight to survive constantly.

Even better?

There was actually a way for him to become human again.

Urbanshade deemed him too far gone in his mutation to reverse the countless painful surgical processes they put him through....but they were nothing but liars who didn't see the point of investing in the resources needed.

They could have done it all along.

Innovation, on the other hand, got every bit of data on the experiments that they needed, going right to work on him as soon as you both arrived to the labs.

Obviously, he resisted at first...as all the trauma he experienced from before didn't go away instantly.

He was afraid of another surgery, being touched and injected with foreign substances and restrained. Not to mention the heavily potent anesthesia he needed since he's developed such a strong immunity to it.

But you convinced him that if he hoped to become human--he needed this.

It took a week or two, with him being in and out of the operating room and you trying to pass the time by chatting with your colleagues about exposing Urbanshade's secrets to the world..but eventually they did it.

They gave him legs again. HIs ear fins were now back to being human ears--and anything else that made him look like an anglerfish was removed and replaced with stitched flesh. His third arm was amputated but preserved for future study.

Somehow, they even got his size to shrink. No longer was he a gigantic beast, but instead an actual human-sized person who got to sleep on the bed beside you.

The only things left of his previous self were some of his sharp teeth (which he didn't mind keeping) and his skin still bearing a somewhat light blue tint to it, although it was not as pale.

It was incredible.

He cried the first time he saw himself.

He felt..human, again. And you were happy for him.

Although...

While he was getting better physically, no amount of surgeries would be able to get rid of the emotional pain Urbanshade and the criminal justice system had put him through.

From getting an unjust sentence for something he didn't even do to screaming in horror at his monstrous reflection for the first time...all of those events still like to replay in his mind.

Not to mention he conditioned himself into never letting his guard down for any reason.

He'd wake up if he heard somebody so much as cough in the next room or squeak their shoes a little too loudly.

While the hardest part was over, it was still going to be a long and agonizing recovery process for him.

Tonight, however, Sebastian was sound asleep, whereas you were sitting at the nearby desk, pencil scratching at the notebook in your hand. You were just trying to brainstorm ways to get Painter and Eyefestation out and away from the Blacksite.

Of course those two were nothing short of a nuisance during your many runs to escape with the Crystal...but Sebastian considered them friends, as they were the only ones who could communicate with him and never tried eating him. So you did feel a little bad for leaving them behind.

You were sure Eyefestation was put out of her misery, knowing that she couldn't swim very far up due to the pressure changes in the ocean--plus she wasn't willing to let go of her vendetta against humans.

Innovation could very easily turn her into a normal shark again who could still speak telepathically...but they couldn't cure her hatred.

For all you know, she could want to kill Sebastian now simply because he was (mostly) back to being human.

Painter, on the other hand, could have escaped with you if you had more time. He deserved a better life besides wasting away mining robux and being tethered to the IDS. He always talked about Sebastian's promise to get him out, too, so you wondered if he felt betrayed and lied to...

Until you recently learned that Innovation figured out a way to communicate with him and help throw more dirt on Urbanshade via an encrypted channel. So there was a chance his AI could be transferred over to this facility if his physical body was destroyed.

That gave you hope to see him again.

But until then, they told you to look after Sebastian, and that was fine by you. He was all you cared about right now.

"GAH!"

Snapping your head over, you could see the man jolt upright all of the sudden, eyes wide as he clutched at his chest, breathing hard. You noticed the sweat dampening the front of his shirt, and closed your book. "Seb?"

"Shit. I was...am I...a-am I still...?" He mumbled to himself, bringing a trembling hand to his forehead, before he squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't be there..please, please, please, god.."

To his relief, he felt nothing but the tiny bumps that formed a stitch beneath his black bangs. But even so, his fingers kept grazing over his skin and ears, wanting to be certain those things weren't there anymore.

"It's okay. You're still at Innovation. My buddies got rid of them."

Feeling the mattress dip, Sebastian looked to see you sitting on the bed, too. You looked concerned, but not overly worried--as this has become a rather normal occurrence ever since he finished those rounds of surgeries.

"I know that, but..I've had them for a long time." He lightly scoffed, trying to calm himself down, but you could tell he was still shaking and very overwhelmed by his nightmare, tears stinging his eyes. "I..I-I can't just...forget about it like it never happened, you know. Like those bastards didn't.....gh.."

He got choked up, and you opened your arms to him, waiting to see if he was willing to accept your offer. Being a giant anglerfish, he never wanted anybody to touch him, and you understood perfectly why.

So for him to curl up into your embrace was a bit of a surprise, but you held him closely; not too tightly so he was uncomfortable, of course. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me." You consoled, feeling him rest his head on your shoulder, sniffling quietly.

A few tears dampened your sleeve, but you didn't mind them.

It made you realize that he probably took his humanity for granted--now there was no longer a huge size difference between you two.

Ever since escaping the blacksite, he's become a bit more attached to you, wanting to constantly be near you. Even back then, he's been friendlier to you than most expendables.

He'd never outright say your presence comforts him. But you could tell through the small gestures and "exceptions" he makes for you that you're the only good thing to enter his life at Urbanshade.

"You're okay, Seb. We're both okay now."

"Y-Yeah, I know..I know.." He muttered, slowly trying to wriggle out of the hug, to which you let him go and allowed him to sit up. "Sorry you gotta put up with me being like this. Thought I would've been over it by now.."

Despite his words, he was still physically shaken up, the nightmares not so easily leaving his mind.

"There's no rush to "get over" any of this." You frowned a little, putting your hand on top of his as a comforting gesture. "I sure as hell haven't. Every time I think I can get some sleep, I find myself getting chased by those stupid mutant fish over and over again.."

Sebastian just scoffed. "You think being chased by one is bad? Try becoming one and having to live through-"

But he stopped himself after seeing the look on your face, as well as you removing your hand and getting up. "Sorry. I'll..get you some water-"

"No. Don't leave. Please."

You blinked in surprise as he grabbed at the hem of your shirt with lightning speed, although when he realized you were staring...he quickly let go and coughed awkwardly into his fist.

"I know I'm not the only one who went through some messed up shit. I don't know how you dealt with it."

"What?"

"..dying over and over again. I would've gone fucking insane if I had to live through that."

"Well, I almost did...but it was worth it. Because we're both free now." You offered him a reassuring smile. "And technically Painter, too. We'll have to talk to him sometime."

"Yeah? Think he'd wanna chat with me after I basically lied to him?" He muttered, sounding uncertain. "I promised him that we would get out. And he could paint all the landscapes he wanted to."

"My colleagues are still figuring out how to unhook him from the IDS without further corrupting him, but they're making good progress. He'll be on his own little computer in here in no time."

"That's good. I just hope he can forgive me. I really only asked him to stall.."

"I'm sure he'd understand, Seb." With a sigh, you picked up your book. "He knows we're safe and he's giving Innovation whatever they need. So I wouldn't worry."

Sebastian simply nodded, looking to his hands--specifically to the ring imprint that was still on one of his fingers, frowning a little as he stared at it.

Even though his humanity was restored, he had already been declared dead a long time. Everyone he knew and loved was convinced that he was a guilty man who deserved execution. It didn't matter if they caught the actual criminal or not.

He just couldn't return to normal life after all he's been through. After all he's seen.

No.

But he could start over with you.

It was funny to think that you were once an expendable prisoner he glossed over, assuming you just wanted to buy his wares and march onwards to your next death--to which he'd laugh in your face and show you the document you already had memorized.

Now, you were the only person he could trust. The only person he was willing to be vulnerable around.

Because you helped free him.

You were the reason he was able to become human again.

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 03 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: oral (m! receiving, sloppy, deep-throat, face-fucking), praise kink (lightly), dracryphilia, Choso is rough but still sweet, friends to lovers word count: 3.3K notes: DIRECT CONTINUATION OF 02! I pulled a crazy editing day (and night lol) on this series, so if you read the original part 2 and are now confused reading this one I am so sorry 😭 I will link the post where I explained the rewrite here: 🤡 but I hope everyone enjoys 🫶 tags: @tojicvmslut @vampress7 @venusinx @mochipip @matchafroggies724 @sabo-has-my-heart @serra10 MDNI | 18+

virgin!Choso whose lips parted in awe as he gazed down at you sitting on your knees before him. You had kissed your way down his torso sweetly, pulling up the hem of his t-shirt a little to press your lips against the bottom of his abs. He reveled in the softness of your lips as they explored more of his body, feeling like he was on cloud nine from all of the gentle attention you were giving him.

He watched you settle on the ground between his parted legs as he sat on the couch, the movie the two of you had put on long forgotten. You began to pull his sweatpants down his thighs and he thought for a moment that he shouldn’t feel so comfortable to be so exposed in front of you, to be so vulnerable. Yet, he had no reservations as he felt your delicate hands slowly remove his pants. When you asked him so sweetly if he trusted you, his answer was an obvious yes. He trusted you completely—with his mind, body, and soul—and he was ready to let you do whatever you wanted to him. And he could see the same tender affection he had for you reflected in your own eyes as you watched him, making sure he was comfortable every step of the way.

You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you lowered his pants more, revealing the heavy outline of his erection in his boxers, a dark stain of pre-cum already seeping through the fabric. He watched with curious, lustful eyes as you gingerly reached your hand out to stroke him over the material, feeling the thickness of his cock underneath your palm. He groaned low in his throat, his hips rolling a little as you teased him over his underwear, your hand lightly gripping his length as you gave it gentle strokes.

“Take them off… Please,” Choso begged with a light laugh, to which you returned with your own giggle and a nod. The need you felt for one another at this moment was palpable, yet the playful comfort of your relationship never faded. Choso lifted his hips as you tugged the waistband of his boxers down and they quickly joined his sweatpants around his ankles. His heavy cock sprang free the moment you lifted the material from his body, thick head standing upright against his stomach as it leaked. You blinked a few times as you took in the sight, almost intimidated as you registered how large he was.

virgin!Choso who saw your reaction and felt a moment of doubt, self-conscious fears suddenly racing through his mind. But then you took him so gently into your soft hands and that was enough to make his worries retreat. He let out a light gasp as he felt your hand wrap around his shaft, squeezing him so perfectly that it made his tip dribble even more. You took a moment to familiarize yourself with his cock, gently tracing the veins that ran over it and watching as the fluid started to spill down his pretty head.

His length was impressive, but what you found even more thrilling was how thick and veiny his shaft was. His skin was smooth to the touch underneath the pad of your thumb as you gingerly followed the prominent vein that spanned the underside of him. Immediately, he felt the difference between your hand and his; yours was so much smoother than his rough, calloused palms. Your touch was so delicate, yet so deliberate. Your thumb reached his head and you swiped over his drooling slit, causing his hips to twitch as he sucked in a breath, his keen eyes watching your every movement.

“You’re even bigger than I thought you’d be, Cho... And so pretty,” you giggled sweetly as you wet your lips with your tongue, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in your excitement. He didn’t quite understand why being “big” was a good thing, but he could hear the wonder in your voice and it made his chest swell with pride that you were pleased with him; and that you thought he was pretty.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, watching as your hand intimately explored his body. You smiled up at him, your pretty eyes creasing in the corners the way he loved so much, but they were darker with lust now. You used your palm to gently stroke over his head, spreading his pre-cum over his shaft as you moved your hand back down in a fist. You began to grip his length with a little more pressure, using his fluid to slowly stroke up and down. He moaned your name softly, his abs clenching as you pumped him steadily and his body became increasingly eager for more. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips as you inched your face closer to his throbbing length, holding the base of his shaft tightly in your grasp as you held his gaze.

“Let me make you feel good…” You said in a silken tone, and he watched, unblinking, as your soft lips drew closer to his flushed head.

virgin!Choso who let out a reflexive whimper as you stuck your tongue out to flick the point of your muscle delicately against the underside of his tip—teasing his frenulum. He let out a low moan as you kept teasing him like this, his body trembling lightly against the couch and his lips hanging open as his breathing became heavier. His cock twitched as he felt the wetness of your tongue working against his skin, playfully licking at all of the sensitive spots he didn't even realize he had. His hands shakily found your cheeks, his large palms tenderly cradling your face. You licked over his drooling head—collecting the faintly salted pre-cum that dripped from his slit—and hummed in satisfaction at his clean taste. The spit from your mouth leaked off of your tongue, slipping down his length messily as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You watched as he bit into his lip unconsciously, his eyes staring into yours with an intensity you had only ever seen on his face in battle, concentrating on your every move.

Choso could feel his brain practically melting over how hot the visual of you on your knees for him was. Your perfect, pretty face, your bright eyes, your soft, cherry-colored lips… You were so beautiful and sweet, yet so naughty, as he watched you work your tongue over his aching length—the contradiction making his head feel thick with lust. Seeing your pretty lips so glossy with spit and his pre-cum made his dick feel like it was about to burst at any second. He barely understood this feeling: the desire to want something, someone, so badly that he physically ached. But there you were, on your knees between his legs with your pretty mouth running up and down his cock… And he felt the urge to do things to you that he barely even understood.

He whimpered again and rolled his hips involuntarily as you swirled your tongue around his tip, the sensations driving him insane. He couldn’t help but start whining for you, and you hadn’t even put him properly in your mouth. But the way your warm, wet tongue teased him was enough for him to know that his hand would never come close to the amount of pleasure you could give him.

“Need more, please,” he begged softly, in his deep, gruff voice. His eyes were so dark with lust as he held your gaze, watching as your tongue lolled out to lick up his shaft on either side. He groaned low in his throat, his fingers threading into the hair at the back of your head as his touch grew unconsciously rougher.

“You’re so needy today, Cho,” you teased him with a smile before pressing your lips lightly to his tip. But you were feeling the same urge. You were so turned on from watching and feeling how responsive he was to your touch; you couldn’t help but want to give him more, to be the one to make him feel pleasure he had never experienced before.

virgin!Choso who was about to respond to your teasing when your mouth suddenly wrapped around the head of his cock—and any cohesive thought in his brain was obliterated. Choso let out a husky groan and pushed himself back into the couch cushions as he felt your lips form a tight ring around his tip, gently moving up and down over his ridge. His hips stuttered up as you sucked him and he watched you—utterly entranced—with heavy eyes and flushed cheeks. He could feel your tongue still flicking against his frenulum as you looked up at him with your beautiful mouth stuffed full of his cock; so heavenly, yet so sinful. He felt he could get off from the view alone, his breathing coming out in fast, ragged moans. You let your lips ease slowly down his shaft feeling them stretch around his thickness as you hollowed your cheeks, wanting to make sure it felt good for him.

You pushed your mouth further down his cock—flattening your tongue against the vein on the underside of his length—making his hips buck suddenly, forcing him to the back of your throat. You gagged at the sudden intrusion—your throat constricting around his thick head, squeezing around his dick so perfectly— as spit poured from your lips. Choso whimpered loudly and his hips jerked up once more as his body instinctively chased after the warm wetness of your throat. His trembling hands unconsciously forced your face against his navel, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he pushed deeper into you. Your throat contracted around his swollen tip as you gagged again, starting to feel light-headed from the lack of oxygen. You let out a gargled cry and dug your nails into Choso’s strong thighs; the sharp sting bringing him back down to reality for a moment long enough that he could recover control of his body.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He apologized profusely as his strong hands suddenly relinquished their force on the back of your head, giving you the chance to sit back up. You coughed as your mouth pulled off of his length, spit dribbling down your chin as you struggled to catch your breath. Choso looked down to meet your eyes—glassy with unspilt tears—and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

“I’m so sorry… I-I didn’t mean to–” Choso started nervously, afraid that he had hurt you when he saw your glistening eyes. He felt immense guilt. Here you were, offering so kindly to help him and he had ruined it. You could see the anxiety brewing in his wide, purple eyes, so you shook your head and shushed him gently, rubbing a reassuring palm over his thigh.

“It’s okay, Choso—really… I just... Didn’t expect it was all,” you said with a sweet laugh, still a little breathless but smiling up at him. You took a moment to regain your composure, wiping some of the spit that had leaked down your chin off with your hand. You could see his expression relax a little, but there was still a lingering doubt hiding in the slight furrow of his brows. “You can be rougher, if you want to be… I don’t mind,” you offered gently, your eyes looking coyly up into his.

virgin!Choso who swallowed nervously as he took in your words. His hands were back on your face now, his thumbs rubbing tenderly across your cheekbones.

“But… I don’t want to hurt you…” Choso said softly. Yet, he couldn’t deny the inexplicable lust he had felt for watching you drool over his cock, seeing those unspilt tears make your eyes shine so pretty. You shook your head gently. “You won’t. I’ll stop you if it’s too much,” you promised him assuredly. Choso swallowed nervously again, but consented with a light "O-okay," too captivated by the idea of feeling his dick inside of your warm, tight throat to put up much of a fight. His hands stayed on your cheeks as you started to pump his cock slowly with your fist again, using all of the spit that had dripped from your mouth to easily slide up and down his length. Choso whimpered, his hips already bucking gently up to meet your movements.

“Fuck… It feels so good,” he whimpered and you felt your core clench up at his needy tone. You were already so wet from sucking his cock, hearing him beg and whimper for you was making you feel like you could cum just from watching him. “Mmm, I know it does, Cho… Want to make you feel even better though,” you couldn’t help but moan back to him.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft a few more times, making audible wet sounds from how much spit had leaked out of your mouth when he gagged you. You continued to use your hand on the lower part of his length, stroking him steadily as you brought your lips to wrap around his tip once more. His hands slid back into your hair, gently holding the loose strands of hair from your face. When you felt comfortable, you picked up the pace again, sliding your lips further down Choso’s cock as your hand stroked in rhythm with your mouth. Your lips and hand were wrapped so perfectly around him… So wet, so warm, so tight… Choso’s head was spinning and he could feel his control slipping.

“Feels so good…” He repeated once more in a repressed whine as he attempted—in vain—to restrain the movements of his thrusts. “Wanna give you more, pretty. Can you take more?” He asked you so desperately, his eyes glazed over with lust and his eyebrows furrowed deeply. You could feel his thighs trembling, the little jumps his hips made as he struggled not to fuck your face as aggressively as his cock was telling him to. You hummed around him and removed your hand from his shaft, giving him permission to use your throat.

virgin!Choso who lost any remaining semblance of control after you took your hand off of him. He tried to start slowly, trying to make his hips roll lightly into your face, wanting to be as gentle as he could. But he kept pushing deeper with every thrust, making his tip press against the tight ring of your throat harder each time until he was slipping past it, bullying into it. He moaned heavily as he watched your lips stretch to fit his girth and clusters of tears gathered in your waterline, the sight only making him thrust harder.

Choso’s breathing was coming out fast again as he watched you take more of his length. His moans were breathy and whiny as his dick took over and he fucked himself into your face blatantly. His voice was so husky, but his moans were so soft and desperate and it made your cunt throb with want as he used your throat. He was humping his hips into your face with abandon now, one strong hand gripping into your hair and forcing you down on his cock while the other held onto your shoulder like a lifeline. You focused hard on relaxing your throat as he manually bobbed your head up and down his length, his dick getting squeezed so perfectly every time he felt your throat gag and constrict around him.

“F-fuck… Thank you, Y/N…Thank you…” He whined in his gruff voice, his hips shaking as he forced the warm wetness of your mouth down and up his swollen cock. He watched you drool and gag as he abused your throat, spit dripping from your chin and onto his heavy balls. His dark eyes watched as you struggled for him, for the sake of his pleasure, and he felt that familiar pressure building inside of him. You blinked up at him—vision blurred from tears—watching as his pretty face contorted with passion. The corners of his dark eyebrows were curved upwards and his swollen lips parted as he watched you so pliantly take his thick cock. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Choso moaned out desperately—sounding as if he were near crying—his hips jerking more erratically as he neared his release. His back arched as his body trembled against the cushions, his head thrown back once again as he panted and whimpered. “Gonna cum,” he cried out in the most pathetically erotic voice you had ever heard. “Gonna cum in your pretty mouth…” His hand had made a fist in your hair, holding your head steady now as he let his volatile thrusts push him over the edge.

virgin!Choso who pulled your face flush against his pelvis as his cock twitched and he released his cum deep into your throat with a sob. You watched the breathtaking sight before you through watery eyes; Choso’s body trembling above you, his neck—littered with blooming lovebites—stretched so beautifully as his head tipped against the back of the couch. He panted and whined your name and his hips bucked into your face with every rope of cum that spurted from his pulsing length, forcing you to swallow all of it.

He groaned as his cock finally stopped twitching and as his grip on your hair relaxed, letting your lips release his thick cock with a pop. You pulled back, breathing heavily as drool streamed down your chin, and your eyes were glossed over with tears. A thick strand of spit hung between your lips and Choso’s tip as the two of you struggled to regain your breath. With effort, Choso pulled his head up to look down at you and gave you a dizzy grin, panted laughs escaping from his chest as he reveled in the afterglow of his orgasm. He took in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, and your glassy eyes as you smiled back at him; and he thought you were the most beautiful being he had ever seen.

“How- How was that?” Choso asked breathlessly, his brain still too dazed to form a coherent sentence. You laughed in return, your eyes creasing in the corners and making him chuckle back at his own speechlessness. “You did so good, Choso," you praised him sweetly, wiping the residual drool from your chin and tears from your cheeks. "It was really hot... Watching you let go like that,” you admitted to him a little shyly as you helped pull his boxers back up his thighs, covering his half-hard cock back up (for now).

“How was it for you?” You asked him a little smugly as you smiled up at him, confident you knew his answer. Choso smirked lightly, rolling his eyes, but he still entertained your question.

“Incredible… I... Didn’t know it could feel that good,”  he admitted sincerely, still in disbelief at just how blissful you had made him feel. You smiled at him warmly and laughed as you rose to your feet, feeling more than a little proud of yourself. Choso watched you stand, his eyes gazing at you with adoration and contentment and a lazy grin plastered on his face. He patted his muscular thigh, suddenly feeling emboldened to show you just how grateful he was for you.

“Your turn..."

these just keep getting longer omg 😭 but I am having so much fun making this series more of a slow-burn and I hope you guys are enjoying as well 🫶

[jay-avian]

Hermes x Tiresias (pt. 2)

Part 1 here (I went a bit long with this one, but it needed to feel conclusive)

Hermes swooped down into the dark lands once more. He hummed to himself, breezing past the moans of the souls beneath him. The bright colors he wore made him shine against the the shadows. He flew and looked all around. The prophet, however, could not be found. Hermes stopped for a moment. "Now where could that little recluse be?" Off in the distance, he saw the banks of a small pool of water and a figure sitting there. "Ah, there we go!"

As he got closer, Hermes saw Tiresias kneeling. His staff sat on the ground beside him. Tiresias faced out towards the water as if he was looking at the pool. His hands rested in his lap. Hermes didn't want to go farther at first. It would have been wise to leave the prophet to his sombre reflections. Tiresias always looked so peaceful like this. But Hermes spoke anyways.

"Heyy there, darling!" Hemers exclaimed. He laid on the air on his stomach with his legs up, kicking as he talked. His head rested on his folded hands. "How's it going? Did you miss me? I bet you missed me."

"You've been gone for six months' time," Tiresias said.

"Yeah, well I was busy, you know how humans are," Hermes said, with his hands waving about. "Always running around, all like 'Help us please, Hermes, we need your guidance', and you know I can't say no to people like that."

Tiresias sighed, his shoulders dropping. He tilted his head towards the god. "You don't have to lie to save your hubris. I understand why you were gone. I saw your true self that day."

Hermes scoffed. He thought about how quickly he left. He probably thinks I couldn't care less, that I'm just some pretentious prick. I mean I know I am, but… if that's all he's going to see… He crossed his arms and leaned on the rocks beside him. "And what gave that away, do you think?" Hermes asked.

"Your eyes," said Tiresias, turning to face him. He paused. He found it hard to find his breath. "I looked to the past and saw them."

The god's face dropped. His eyes fell frozen over his friend. "I- I didn't think-"

"You spoke of compassion, of bringing down hope in a place where none seems to grow. And in your hopes, you found a cold requital. Y-" He went to say more, but found his words failing. He looked straight on past Hermes. "You spoke of love… romance everlasting…" Tiresias turned his head down to the pool, gripping his robe. He grimaced though he did not see his reflection. "I hope you will forgive my ignorance, my god," he said softly.

Hermes placed his hand over his mouth. The shadow over the god's eyes had brightened some. Devastated sympathy washed over his face. "Oh," he sighed. He flew in lower and closer. "Oh dear, of course I would forgive you."

He floated down, gently stepping onto the ground, kneeling by Tiresias. There they sat without speaking. All they heard were the low hums of the wind whisking by. There they sat, still as the stones that surrounded them. At times, the god went to console his worshipper. At times, his words found no sound. When he saw how tense the prohpet was, he remembered what other gods had done. Tiresias had faced punishment before. And though he could see the future, there were many paths it could take. Hermes looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together.

"Listen," he said at last, "I may not be the best god, or the most perfect in any light. But I want you to know that I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you. I… I care about you a lot, and I was wrong to hide that from you." As the god spoke, Tiresias loosed his shoulders. Hermes gave a short laugh. "I'm not even sure you like me at all in that regard. But, at least you can know I mean well, and…"

Hermes trailed off, his words falling short. Tiresias let go of his robe and faced the god. He sat silent for a moment.

"What I would give to see your eyes right now," Tiresias said. Hermes looked up with his brow raised. The prophet smiled. "Though I'm sure they're just as beautiful now as they were then."

The god's face grew flushed. But before he could refute the compliment, he watched Tiresias raise his hands towards his hood.

"So at the very least," he said. "I'll show you mine." He let the hood fall from his head. White curls of hair were revealed, bright against the dark that surrounded them. His hands moved to untie the band around his eyes. But instead of letting it fall, he froze.

Hermes tilted his head. "Would you like some help d- Tiresias?"

The prophet said nothing, but gave a slow nod. Hermes reached over and gently held his hands. Tiresias let out a short breath he had been holding. The god guided his hands lower, going slow. As the band fell, they revealed eyes of grey with a thin ring of amber in the center, as sunlight peering over storm clouds. Hermes paused. The shadows over his face fell in full. He stared and sighed in awe.

"Gods, you're gorgeous," he said softly.

Tiresias frowned. "Why must you taunt me like this?"

"I'm not, honest. I do really think you're wonderful and beautiful and…" In a lower whisper, he said, "Gods, I want to kiss you."

"What?" Tiresias took his hands back.

"I'm sorry!" Hermes said, his face flushed. "I didn't mean to startle you like that. I just- I was looking at you and I just kinda said that out loud and I didn't mean to, it just came out and I, well…" He rubbed his hands together with a nervous look. "I won't if you don't want me to and I understand! If you don't want to, I mean. But… may I?"

Tiresias simply stared at first. He sat frozen, hands coiled back. Apprehension filled the air about them. After a moment, Tiresias took a deep breath and let it go just as slow. "…Do as you wish."

"A-are you sure? I don't want you doing this for me. I want to make sure you want this too."

The prophet's hands clutched his robe once more. He looked to the ground. "I do want this."

Hermes sat up, his face raised with delight. He inched closer. Reaching his hand out, he lifted the prophet's face to meet his. Tiresias looked at him with nervousness, yet did not move. Hermes leaned in, closed his eyes, and gently kissed him. In that moment, the prophet saw not time nor space, but felt the world in his heart. In that moment, the god heard not a prayer, but praised the soul before him. And in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the sacred touch upon their lips.

The two parted. They stayed just inches away. Hermes looked down with care at his love. Tiresias sighed, looking up at the god with reverence. He said in a whisper, "I haven't felt such bliss in ages."

Hermes gave a soft smile. "Well then," he said, "would you like some more?"

Tiresias nodded and Hermes graced his lips again. The god raised his hands to hold the prophet's face with gentleness. Tiresias reached out to hold the god in return. There they knelt before each other in this act of worship. By the pool of water in a far off nook in the Underworld, they could be found. And it was there in that dark cave they found hope in each other. They found hope in the world of gods.

@nothing-impt hope you don't mind the tag, finished the one part I reblogged from you

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[lassieposting]

I like to think that once things have settled down post-game, Tav will start addressing Astarion's critically low self-everything issues.

Like, this man's obnoxious, vain exterior is a paper-thin sheet of ice over a bottomless lake of insecurities and negative self-talk, and we see that the whole way through the game. He's been taught to believe that his only value is in his body. He'll bitterly call sex the only thing he's good for. He's shocked if you dump another companion for him, because he sees himself as having nothing to offer but baggage. He knows, in an abstract way, that he's attractive, but he doesn't remember what he looks like.

Perhaps one evening he asks what they see in him, and when they ask what he thinks their answer will be, he's stumped by the question.

And Tav decides it's past time to do something about that, because there is so much about him that is worthy of love.

Consider: Astarion rolling out of bed at like noon, padding naked to the bathroom to wash and style his hair, and catching sight of something tucked into the frame of the mirror. It's a sketch of him, one of Tav's, and beside it, they've scrawled the words you're beautiful. He grins, and traces the charcoal strokes with a fingertip while he brushes his teeth, because that's not a difficult one to believe, and he's touched.

But then he starts finding more little sketches, and more little notes. When he reaches for the book he's been reading, there's one tucked into the page he's dog-eared - a little caricature of himself, curled up in an armchair reading a giant book, captioned you're clever. He snorts a laugh, a little self-deprecating. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's no Gale, and he has brain fog more often than not. But...well, he did graduate law school and pass the bar once upon a time, so technically they're not wrong.

You're brave is resting on his pillow when he comes back from splashing his face in the bathroom one night, still trembling from a nightmare. His eyes well up when he spots it, and when he crawls into open arms and buries his face in Tav's clavicle he mumbles that he doesn't feel very brave at all. That's a hard one to accept, but they will keep telling him.

You care about me... is simply sitting on a dresser one day. Two little drawings with that one; in the first, he's bandaging a cartoonish bump on Tav's head. On the back, though...he recognises that image, Tav tied up and spitting rage at him through the night, lost to their Urges, as he kept watch. In smaller letters, his own words are reflected back at him: ...even when that's an objectively stupid thing to do.

You never gave up is in the medical kit kept under the bed, the one stocked with salves and oils for the bone-deep ache of two hundred years of consistent injuries. Tav will rub his shoulders for him if he asks, he knows that. But, well, two centuries of hiding any sign of weakness makes for a tough habit to break. He touches the reminder gently, as though it's fragile, and after a moment's hesitation, calls them in for help.

And on and on they go, dozens of little notes, a tangible list of things they love about him. Repeated, sometimes, some more than others, as and when he needs to be reminded of them. Often accompanied by little drawings that make him laugh or snort or cry - snapshots at how Tav sees him. His ridiculous bedhead. His unflattering blood-drunk expression, gawking into the middle distance, utterly lost in the sauce. The way his ears will sometimes twitch in his sleep. The Sexy Side-Lean pose he didn't realise he tends to do in doorways. His dramatic readings of appalling erotica.

And gradually, he begins to believe them.

[slut4b1ls]

—UNDER A SPELL

EVA X F!READER

summary: You meet a strange woman on your walk, she invites you over for a tea and things quickly take an unexpected turn..

You were out of the town visiting your aunt, the woman had to go to work early so you decided to explore the area while she was gone. The neighborhood was pretty calm; there was a few neighbors gardening and some children playing outside.

The sudden noise of something falling behind your back interrupted your reflections. You turned around to see a blonde woman whose groceries were laying all around the street. Without hesitation,you rushed to help her with gathering everything from the ground.

"Thank you for helping" the stranger said with a warm smile "I’m Eva. Are you new to the neighborhood? Pretty sure I haven’t seen you around before." As you finished picking up the last of her scattered groceries, you straightened up and met her gaze. “Nice to meet you! I’m just visiting,” you replied.

The woman looked at you, scanning your body. "Oh I see… Well, I have to get going, but maybe you would like to come over for a cup of tea?" She said maintaining eye contact "It’s always nice to meet new people." Without thinking too much, you agreed and the two of you began walking slowly toward Eva’s house.

The way there was pleasant, giving you both time to get to know each other a little bit better. Eva mentioned that she lived in a house with a few other women where they were part of a «self-help group». The idea made you even more interested of Eva’s enigmatic persona. There was something captivating about the way she spoke, something so intimidating about the way she just was..

When you arrived, two women greeted you at the entrance. Following Eva inside, you took a sit at the dining table while she went off to make some tea. As you waited, another woman approached you. Smiling, you answered her questions politely while she settled into the chair next to you. The woman seemed genuinely friendly, explaining that she was a close friend of Eva and lived with her and other girls in the house. Eva returned, carrying two cups of tea. She placed one of them infront of you and took a seat. Finally, after talking for a bit, Eva suggested showing you around the house.

The house looked quite large from the outside and the living room was huge, so you were intrigued to see the rest. Eva led you upstairs, leaving the other woman behind, and began showing you around. She stopped when you got to a certain room, her room. You looked at her confused, smiling she looked down. "This is my room" she said softly "the place where I conduct therapy sessions." You blinked, even more confused now. "You… do therapy?" You asked, your curiosity growing even stronger.

The woman opened the door and conveyed you to come inside. As you entered the room, she quietly closed the door. "Yes I do" she said with a calm voice "Living in a big house with so many women can get… overwhelming. I’m here to «sort everything out» when needed".

“That’s nice,” you said smiling. Her response, however, caught you off guard. "It feels like I’ve known you for a long time" she said, her gaze locking onto yours. "I feel a strong connection between us. Do you feel it too?"

Her words made your heart stop. The way she was looking at you already made your knees weak however the way she formed her sentences was even more intimidating. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Instead, you stood there in silence, the question hanging heavily in the air between you.

"I know you do baby" she answered herself, moving closer to you, slowly reaching her hand forward to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You are so sweet when you get nervous."

Her presence worked on you like nothing else ever have before. Her eyes worked on you like a hypnosis device she was consciously using on you. The only thing you knew for a certain at that moment was that this was not a great idea; Eva was a stranger you had only met that they.

But there was something about the way she had a hold on you, the way she wrapped you around her finger that made you unable to escape her touch. In fact, you craved it even more with every second.

Eva slowly put a hand on your chin gently tilting your head up. "You look so beautiful when you're like this, completely under my spell." Your gaze slowly went down as you started to get even more nervous. It made you crazy at how slowly it all was moving, you knew the game Eva was playing and couldn’t help but just let it out: "Fuck me…"

You saw the way her eyes glowed. "Oh, but I will do more than that, my dear." Eva smirked as these words left her mouth. She started unbuttoning the shirt she had on, exposing her beige lacy bra. "I will make you feel every inch of desire and love that you could ever imagine, pretty girl."

As Eva’s shirt felt to the floor, she began taking of yours and then smoothly unbuttoned your bra leaving your breasts exposed. "You’re perfect, my love" she said as she leaned into your neck "You know… when I first saw you, I knew there was something special about you".

As Eva finished sucking on your neck she turned you around and bent you over the wooden desk in the room. "Just relax and let me take care of you baby…" she said as she grabbed your waist from behind getting you prepared for what was about to happen.

a/n: Finally!!! I wanted to write a fic with Eva for so long now.. Let me know what you think, because I’m not as satisfied with it, but couldn’t wait no more to post it... Anyway, I love you and hoped you enjoyed😴🤎

tags: @hkkuugu @jades-thought-thoughts @certifiedwomenlover @hopingforgoodblogs @canthelpit0 @billiesbabygirll

if you would like to be added to my taglist to be updated when I post a new fic, let me know!!

masterlist.

[aventurineswife]

In Quiet Moments, We Heal

Tags: @xxmagma, Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Comfort, Depressive Episode, Healing, Emotional Support, Quiet Care, Patient Listening, Slow Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of depression and emotional struggles, Themes of isolation and self-reflection, Emotional vulnerability.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that, I hope this could help even for a little bit, remember you're not alone! 💖

It’s a quiet afternoon aboard the Astral Express, and Dan Heng notices the door to your room has remained shut for far too long. While he doesn’t make a habit of intruding on others' space, something about the stillness pulls at him. His instincts, always vigilant, sense that something isn’t quite right.

After a few more moments of hesitation, he knocks softly on the door, his voice low but steady. “Are you alright?”

When no response comes, Dan Heng steps forward, his brow furrowed in concern, though it’s not something easily read on his stoic face. He opens the door gently, careful not to disturb you too abruptly. Seeing you curled up in bed, barely moving, his concern deepens, but he doesn’t press you for answers.

Dan Heng knows that pushing someone when they’re in the midst of a depressive episode rarely helps. Instead, he takes a slow step toward your bed. “I’m here if you need anything,” he says simply, his voice calm and unyielding.

He doesn’t try to fill the silence with empty words. Instead, he stays nearby, quiet and patient. Sometimes, his presence alone is enough to offer some sense of comfort. If you want to talk, he’s there. If you need space, he respects that too, silently standing guard.

It’s not much, but Dan Heng knows the value of silence, of not forcing someone to speak when they’re not ready. When the moment feels right, he’ll speak again, perhaps softly offering a cup of tea or simply asking if there’s anything he can do for you. But for now, he stays, offering his calm presence, a steadying force in the storm.

It’s a quiet day aboard the Astral Express, but there’s an unsettling stillness that has caught Sunday’s attention. As a fellow member of the crew, he’s familiar with the ebb and flow of emotions, and something about the silence surrounding your room strikes him. He can sense the weight you carry, even if he cannot always put it into words.

With a gentle knock at your door, he enters slowly, his wings fluttering faintly as he notices your disheveled state. He doesn’t rush in; his presence is soothing, deliberate, as if he’s offering a space for you to breathe.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sunday says softly, his voice almost lyrical, a faint melancholy in his tone. He doesn’t press for explanations—he knows better. Instead, he offers you a warm smile, one that’s meant to be comforting, though his eyes reveal his own subtle sadness.

He sits down at a distance, ensuring that his presence doesn’t overwhelm you. Sunday doesn’t need to say much. He understands the weight of isolation, the weight of the mind when it turns inward. His golden halo flickers slightly, betraying his own inner turmoil as he watches you, his thoughts wandering between the desire to help and the fear of overstepping.

“If you need someone to listen,” he offers quietly, “I’m here.”

He doesn't demand anything from you—no answers, no promises. His silence is as much a balm as his words. If you speak, he listens. If you don’t, he remains close but not intrusive, giving you space, allowing you to find your way back to stability at your own pace.

The softness in his demeanor is genuine, a blend of concern and understanding. He knows that healing doesn’t happen all at once, and for now, his quiet support is all he can offer.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey!! Can I submit a Fiyero x fem!reader request where reader has a unique/different sense of style than most students at Shiz do and she’s lowkey kinda self-conscious about it since she’s new and has been judged by people before at her previous school. Galinda, noticing this though, thinks it would be a good idea to help her by taking her under her wing and “Galinda-fying” her. Reader tries to take this in stride, but honestly isn’t sure if it’s working😂 that is, until Fiyero notices reader’s struggles and tries to reassure her that she doesn’t need to do all of “that.” Reader is slightly touched by that sentiment, but reveals the real reason why she’s doing all of this in the first place. Cue in soft Fiyero, they share a lovely, sweet moment + Fiyero being his usual charming self at the end🤭😉

cw: insecurity, hurt/comfort

The second you showed up to Shiz, you knew that you were different from the others. Your style was very unique and people didn’t seem to care for that. You could see the way they would look at you when walking to class, the way you’d try to jazz up your uniform to diversify it, making it not look like everyone else’s.

Fiyero liked that about you. He liked how you were yourself and didn’t care what anybody else thought. He was always flirty with you but not in the way he was with everyone else. He genuinely liked you and was starting to wonder when you’d get the hint that he wanted to go out with you.

Glinda also noticed the attraction between the two of you and didn’t know why she felt the need to help you. She could see what was underneath all of your insecurity, how brightly you shined, and she wanted to make it come through. And she could with a little makeover.

To her surprise, it wasn’t hard to get you to show up to her suite. She told you the truth: that she wanted to give you a makeover, and for some reason, you had agreed. Neither of you knew exactly why, but Glinda wasn’t going to question it. She was just going to take what she was given and roll with it.

Okay, maybe you knew why you were doing it. You’d never tell anyone, but you were doing it to catch Fiyero’s attention. You knew it was silly to change your appearance just to catch someone’s attention, but you didn’t know what else to do. He was right there, just out of reach and being yourself clearly wasn’t working.

What you clearly weren’t getting was that you already had him. He had asked you out multiple times and you had just been so oblivious to it, telling him that you had other things to do. Eventually he got the hint and tried his best to move on even though it wasn’t going to be easy.

“You’re here,” Glinda said as she opened the door. Her eyes were wide in shock, but she quickly shook it off, a bright smile on her face as she pulled you into the room with a lot of force.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She gushed. “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Glinda closed the door behind her then made her way over to her vanity where you were sitting. She rested her hands on your shoulders and bent down so that you could also see her in the reflection of her mirror. She smiled at you through it before giving your shoulders a squeeze, standing back up, turning you to face her.

She then pulled something from her bed, opening it to reveal more makeup than you'd ever seen your life. You watched in amazement as dipped a brush into a pretty pink blush before tapping it on your cheeks, nodding to herself once she had put on enough.

She continued to do your makeup as she made conversation with you, genuinely curious about your life before arriving at Shiz. And you told her everything, wondering why you had previously disliked her when she was just trying to be nice to you. Maybe it was because of what you had heard about what had gone on between her and Elphaba.

But she was sweet, and you really didn't care what her motive was for helping you. At least she was helping. And with her help, you were finally going to get Fiyero and the two of you would live happily ever after. Well, you hoped you would.

"What do you think?" She asked as she turned you around to face the mirror. You hardly recognized yourself and you supposed that was the point. The makeup look Glinda had done on you had been nothing like what you had usually done. It was glowy and pink and you didn't want to admit how much you liked it.

"I look-" you cut yourself off, unsure what to say. You moved your head this way and that, captivated by the way the makeup looked on you, wondering if there was a way you could replicate it once you had taken it off for the night.

"Amazing, right?" She asked and you nodded in agreement, deciding that word was good enough to describe what you look like. Afterwards, she gave you some clothes you could borrow and even went as far as accompanying you to class the next day so you'd feel more comfortable about your transformation.

The two of you walked throughout the school arm in arm, your heads held high in your pink and blue uniforms, everyone turning their heads to get a good look at you. Especially Fiyero. Seeing you dressed like that caught him off guard. You were like a clone of Glinda and he didn't like that. He liked you better as yourself and wondered what had inspired you to go through such a transformation.

You were vulnerable and Fiyero thought Glinda had taken advantage of that. She just wanted someone she could use, a minion, and that made him feel sick. He wanted to say something to you but didn't feel like it was his place even though the two of you were friends.

So he watched from afar, distancing himself from you because he was afraid that he would blurt out his real feelings if he got too close. That was the thing about you. You were always able to disarm him, able to make him behave like himself, not the persona he was always putting on for everyone else.

He didn’t like seeing you like that, your personality and mannerisms slowly morphing into Glinda’s right before his eyes and it seemed like no one else cared. Well, that was because no one else loved you the way he did. He loved you. That was quickly becoming more clear as he watched the little things about you that he loved slowly fade away the more time you spent with Glinda.

And the thing was, Glinda was never helping you with malicious intent. She just wanted to help you come out of your shell. She just wanted to help you see your full potential the way she did. And giving you the makeover wasn’t to change you completely, but more just show you that you could be way more that you were. To give you some more confidence than you already had.

You were walking back to your suite after classes and saw Fiyero talking to one of his many friends out of the corner of your eye. You had noticed that he had been distancing himself from you and you wanted to know why, to get to the bottom of it. You wanted to know what you had done.

You marched over to him, anger taking over your features as you did so. Fiyero could see you hurrying towards him and wanted to run away like usual, but you seemed to have intention so he stayed there, ready for whatever punishment you were about to give him since he thought he deserved it.

But you only got a few feet before your ankle twisted, sending you to the floor, your books scattering across it as you did so. Before he could think about what he was doing, Fiyero rushed to you, resting his hand on your back as he looked at you, worry written all over his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded before turning away, wiping away the tears that were trailing down your cheeks.

“I’m fine, Fiyero,” you told him as you quickly got up from the floor, dusting yourself off. You went to reach for your books, but he had already gotten them into a stack, holding them out to you.

“Your knee’s all scratched up,” he told you and you looked down to see that he was right, blood trickling down your leg from the wound.

“Please let me patch you up.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes and Fiyero was quick to scoop you up into his arms before carrying you to his suite.

The two of you were quiet the entire way there, even as he sat you down on his bed. You watched him rifle through his belongings before producing a first aid kit.

You didn’t know why he was helping you when he seemed so upset with you, but you weren’t going to deny it. Anything to be close to him, anything to get him to speak to you again.

You didn’t realize how much you missed him until he was right there within reach. And now you wanted to pull him into your arms and never let him.

He sat on the bed and wordlessly put your leg into his lap, opening up an alcohol wipe and getting rid of all of the blood and anything else that could have gotten into your wound.

“You know, you wouldn’t have fallen if you hadn’t worn those ridiculous shoes,” he grumbled as he put some antibacterial ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid.

This was the first time Fiyero had spoken to you like that so it caught you off guard. Now it all made sense, why he had been distancing himself from you. You wished he had just been honest with you instead of ignoring you.

“If you don’t like the way I look then just say that,” you snapped and he pushed your leg off of his lap. He stood up from the bed stood in front of you, bending down so you could see his face.

“I don’t like the way you look.” His words sounded like poison, stinging you in every way possible. You knew it was true, but hearing the words come from his mouth hurt even worse.

His face then softened as he knelt in front of you, taking your hands. He looked apologetic and he was quick to wipe away the tears that were now streaming down your face.

“I liked you better the way you were. I’m sorry for ignoring you and I’m sorry for being so cruel. I just hated that you felt the need to change yourself.”

“I did it for you,” you told him, looking down at your lap, but he grabbed hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye?

“What?” He genuinely seemed shocked when you thought it was obvious. Maybe your advances hadn’t been as clear as you had originally thought.

“It was for you, Fiyero,” you repeated. “I just wanted you to like me.”

“I do like you, y/n,” he said. “So much. Why do you think I asked you out so many times?”

“You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did. I asked you to get coffee many times and even went as far as inviting you to dinner a couple of times.”

Oh, now you felt stupid. You replayed all of the scenarios in your head and sure enough, you had been reading it all wrong. Fiyero did like you and he liked you a lot.

“I-I didn’t know that. I-I would love to go to dinner with you, Fiyero.”

“It’s a date,” he smiled before pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Make sure to wear that cardigan I like,” he winked, going in for another before helping you to your feet.

The two of you lingered at the door, sharing kiss after kiss until you finally left to go get ready, making sure to wear the cardigan that Fiyero was referring to. The entire time you got ready, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, making a mental note to thank Glinda. She was the whole reason why the two of you had gotten together, after all.