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#Can like someone tell me their ship name thanks
respectthepetty · 2 days
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Pride Petty Watch (SOTUS) 1/5
The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, which were Love in the Air and The Untamed, and so even though I finished the first, I've stalled on the second, and it's all because of the beast named SOTUS. I watched this show when it aired in 2016, but I don't remember any of it. All I remember is that I'm very mad at it, yet this was the wild card show that was unlocked during the voting, so instead of fearing this show so much that I cannot bring myself to finish The Untamed, I'm going straight to the big boss, and fighting this demon NOW!
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It's me and the gear in a battle until the very end, and even though I cannot remember a single thing about this show, as soon as I pressed play, all the hate in my body rose to the surface, so I already know this is going to be a ~journey~
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First and foremost, I'm going to give this show and Krist a compliment because I HATE Arthit, which is exactly what I should be doing in the first episode. He is 🎶The Worst🎶 and he leans all the way into it. He snarls. He yells. He forces a girl to give him her number through mere power dynamics and sexism, and this isn't just 2024-me thinking this. 2016-me knows that this character is written well because the worst thing Arthit can think of doing to another man is making him say he is gay.
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Then to casually whisper in that man's ear that he could find him a skirt to wear . . .
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Arthit really is the epitome of the homophobe-to-homo character and I can't believe that it worked in 2016 since I feel that was late for a character like this to still be a love interest, yet it's still working so well in 2024 because here I am, pissed, pressed, and ready to fuck him up for being the douchiest bro in this damn cafeteria. It's refreshing how much I'm allowed to hate him.
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Because even the way he screams Kongpob's name with his student ID every fucking two seconds is setting me off.
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And I'm very disappointed in BL Land for only ONE video existing of him screaming Kongpob's name, and it's only the times from the first half of the first episode. Thanks, OP, but we are slacking!
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But, honestly, if I had a boy who looked up at me like this every time I screamed his name, I'd probably be a lot worse than Arthit. You know, instigating fights and hands on me or something like that.
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And now I'm questioning this series because if these two would just choke each other out then kiss, I would be fully for it and enjoying all my snacks along the way. I'd be fine with Kongpob telling the entire room he would make Arthit his bitch, but Kongpob instead says he'll make Arthit his wife, and . . . the vibe is not as kinky as I need it to be to support all that is being thrown at me from these two.
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Which is why I'm heavily shipping Kongpob with M! Kongpob got in trouble for having two books, one which was M's, and had to say he liked men. Now, they are drunk at this table with homophobe Arthit and the hazers are staring them down while Kongpob is just holding M's face.
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But let me actually rewatch this show instead of reflecting on how GMMTV messed this enemies AND lovers premise up twice (looking at you, Dangerous Romance) because right now, this show is trying to make me believe the girls would not wave hello to a babyface Off.
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Once again, back to the actual rewatch, and because I don't remember a thing about this, I don't know if Wad is good or bad, but him busting out this move when Prem told him to apologize was equivalent to an older white Southern Christian woman telling someone to have a blessed day, so I felt that shade through the screen!
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And I'm not victim-blaming, but I do actually think Kongpob and Arthit are trying to push each buttons to see who will break first and fuck (up) the other one because this is not a sane answer to "why did you stay?" when the possibility of the hazers physically harming someone is extremely high.
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I only see my Kongpob and M ship now because when Arthit asked if anyone knew M, Kongpob immediately stood up and knew his entire life story. I have known my best friends for decades, and I still could not recite half of that information. Kongpob, what are the heterosexual reasons for you know any of this information about M?
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JAN!
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Once again, Arthit is 🎶The Fucking Worst🎶 because instead of just taking his L, he made Kongpob say everyone's damn name, then ripped up May's name tag, only to scold Kongpob for giving her his, and now the kids are passing out from his ridiculous physical activities! As a member of a Greek-letter organization who was hazed because that was the culture of the time period, Arthit is being soooooo messy!
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Hear me out - Kongpob and M would be so good together! Arthit is the antagonist. Kongpob is the protagonist who meets a sweet quiet boy on his first day of orientation. He helps the sweet quiet boy come out of his shell and watches over him. He cares for him. THEY FALL IN LOVE!
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But instead I'm getting a love interest who nominated Kongpob because he knows he is cute, yet can't admit it because ~internalized homophobia~ Ryan from The OC would have never treated Seth this way, and they were in the early 2000s. What is your excuse, Arthit?! The show wants me to hate you, and for that, I'm thankful.
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But I could never hate Minnie! Arthit came up quick like he was protecting the boys from Minnie being a predator, but Minnie would NEVER! I could never fear Minnie with the bisexual scarf? And now MDL is telling me the actor has only acted in one other series and that series is Deep Night. Gold star resume, and I truly mean that.
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Look at them. LOOK AT THEM! Tell me they don't look good together. Tell me they wouldn't have wrecked every other ship. This is why I need GMMTV to let these MEN (no longer boys) kiss their homies. Kongpob x M. Singto x New. I ship it.
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*punching walls and ripping doors off hinges* Kongpob gets kicked out the group and the FIRST one to stand up for him is the boy he loves (it's canon to me and IDGAF what the story's gotta say about it). Quiet and sweet M finds his voice just so he can ask to have Kongpob back. THEY ARE IN LOVE!
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Arthit is wildin' out here trying to gaslight Kongpob with this bullshit of "if you keep helping out your friends, then they'll never stand on their own." Sir, you wanna fuck Kongpob so bad, you look stupid.
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AND KONGPOB SAYS IT!
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I cannot stress enough how kinky this is and could have been if 2016 BL Land was allowed to lean into this because Kongpob has already established through his actions that he likes showing up for the punishments, and here he says the quiet part very loudly - Arthit likes punishing him.
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Taking a break from the kink to point out that GMMTV was always going to get My Love Mix-Up because in 2016, May's friend said that "In Japan, if you write down the name of your crush on an eraser and use it, that person will love you"
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Then we have May asking for an eraser and keeping it just so she can write Kongpob's name on it. But who gets upset about it? M! Because he loves Kongpob and I'm not accepting that he likes May just like Atom realized he liked a boy instead of girl eight years later. M loves Kongpob. That is my truth!
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And here comes the kink lite again! Kongpob could leave. He doesn't have to take this verbal abuse from Arthit. He doesn't have to eat that damn spicy ass plate of food. He doesn't have to finish it either because Arthit gets up and leaves, yet HE DOES! Because he likes this treatment. This makes sense if it's sadomasochism, and that will guide me through these next couple of episodes.
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Because the decision to make Arthit the one who likes pink milk is a choice, and now I want an entire TED Talk on how Arthit is probably the most well done homophobic bully with internationalized homophobia falling in love with the boy he is bullying.
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Because, joke's on him, the guy he falls for is into that kind of shit.
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And all of this happens so we can end with Kongpob getting pink milk for himself after he finished an entire spicy meal that he didn't need to since he enjoys being punished should make me so happy, but the show is trying to lighten Arthit's behavior by having him pay for the bill (and get the freshmen food, and having been hazed himself, and blah blah blah) instead of just letting the toxicito be toxic and Kongpob being into it.
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I never thought I'd write this, but I don't want Arthit to be tamed. I want him to be so much worse.
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the--firevenus · 5 months
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Will say my top ship for magister merlin in afk journey is valen, hogan, and mirael, I know the point of this game is not romance and I did not play afk arena to ship anyway, but I'm a shipper at heart and how they set up these three character interaction with merlin?? KILL ME!
Valen strange devotion to protect merlin despite he say so many times "not like you need me anyway" but he still there, yes it's his order but then he doesn't HAVE to go as far as he did, and he also smart enough to know who's merlin really is like. Merlin is not his old friend and as far he knows merlin might as well he a walking myth but then this myth suddenly make himself know by being very fucking dorky and like,,, Oh their potential..
Hogan, oh hogan, I love how soft spoken he talk with merlin, the "my dear old friend...", unlike mirael he didn't mourn or grief as much, he is sad but it's like he already made amends with it,,, and because of that he talk to merlin with this endearment and comforting vibe, of old times, old adventures and shenanigans, and his loyalty.. Ohhhhh the longing
And mirael... GOSH WHAT CAN I SAY??? the "my dearest..." is playing in my head like a broken record player, asking our merlin to a "date", hinting of their past together and SEARCHING FOR THEM FOR 20 YEARS!? gurl got yearning problem!! 😭😭 And I understand! She's by far the most angstiest of the three, the yearning, the grief and the mourning despite merlin is not dead... "I can always recognized you" like fuck I will cry??
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girlyliondragon · 2 years
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I DID NOT JUST SEE LIZBERT X FILBO SHIP SHIT ON AO3.....
I THOUGHT WE STOPPED THESE PEOPLE HOLY SHIT
They made her CHEAT with EGGABELL too?? What the FUCK and why is that here????!
#Bugsnax#ANYWAYS IF YOU SHIP THAT GTFO YOU FREAK#I don't care if people don't like me saying this Lizbert is his SISTER FIGURE and she is JUST HIS FRIEND NOT FWBS#why do people want to ship them so badly??? Lizbert is gay ffs!#AND they make her feel like shit for being with Eggabell as if she even liked Filbo more than platonic?????#Lizbert is not a cheater!! She's not a fucking cheater why would that person do that or write or post something like that???!!!#She would not cheat with Eggabell she loves Eggabell geuinely and Filbo is JUST a brother to her GOD#as if Lizbert and Eggabell weren't together FIRST. Let canon strictly platonic childhood friends stay that way!#Anyways I muted that person thank you AO3 for that function I do not want to see freaks like that in my sight#I don't even know if I should tag this because people have gotten on my ass for ship shit as is#even though we literally got on someone's @ss for doing this before#this one was literally a 2 year ago problem WHY IS IT RETURNING#This fandom really wants Liz to be a scumbag so bad they have to make sh!t up now. There I said it! Cheaters are scumbags. she is not#it would be so great if people can stop being weirdos about LizEgg in general. it's always SPECIFICALLY them too! Never any of the others!#If you want the person's name to mute then feel free to ask (Even if it's on the front fucking page of the tag *RETCHES*)#but if you're just gonna tell me to let people do whatever they want even if it's fucking wrong. Then piss off#I'd LOVE for anyone that genuinely defends that ship to stay away from me. Reminder We've been here before and dealt with it so wtf???
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yazmarina · 20 days
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walk me through it
for the love circuit series
—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.
franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader
warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases
a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa
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Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.
Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.
You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.
This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.
But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.
He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.
"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.
Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"
You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."
"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."
"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.
"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.
You can smell his perfume from where you stand.
"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.
"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."
Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."
"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.
You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.
"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.
The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.
That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.
Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.
So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.
And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.
"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.
"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.
You gulp. Franco smiles.
"Anything is possible this weekend."
-
"You broke the internet last night."
You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.
It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.
Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.
"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."
You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.
But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.
"Hi."
"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.
You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.
"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.
"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.
"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.
"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."
The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.
"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.
"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.
"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.
I will talk to you later.
Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.
-
Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.
P11.
Almost there.
-
"Hi. Come in."
Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.
"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.
Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.
"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.
"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.
Always straight to the point.
Like this morning.
You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.
You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.
Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉
It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.
You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.
Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?
You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.
You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀
It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.
Easy.
"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.
"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.
The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.
You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.
You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.
"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.
Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.
"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.
"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.
You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.
"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.
Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.
"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.
"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.
"Is that your camera?"
You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.
"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.
"Knock yourself out," you say.
Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.
"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.
"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.
You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.
"Just...touch yourself."
You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.
"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."
You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.
The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.
"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.
"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."
Click.
"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"
You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.
"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.
Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.
You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.
Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.
Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.
Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.
It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.
Oh, well.
Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.
Franco. Franco. Franco.
He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.
Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.
"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.
"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.
Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.
He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.
Franco chuckles. "Very."
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ellecdc · 1 month
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I’ve been thinking about a Remus (or ig any ship that includes him?) x metamorphmagus!reader who is always turning into other people in order to mess with people. despite them being very good at acting and visually/audibly indistinguishable from their target, once the moon comes close and his senses are heightened Remus is able to recognize them from scent alone. I also think he’s observant enough that even when his senses are as normal as they can be, he is able to notice little ticks and habits that break through the disguise. I don’t think he would ruin their fun, observing and if he isn’t in pain even helping with their mischief.
It’s just such a cute little concept to me, and I think it could be fun to play with, so I would love to see if you can come up with a little Drabble or something about it! Thank you mother ❤️ I love confident and mischievous readers with quiet but enabling characters
this was a cute concept! thanks for the request! also, I didn't intend for this to be Potter!reader, but with the way the story went it ended up feeling like it had to be potter reader hahaha
Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who is a metamorphmagus [800 words]
CW: fem!reader, 'your mama' insults, talking about students getting it on in a broom closet
“Never thought I’d find myself happier to see this Black than the other one.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he sauntered into the library looking innocent for all intents and purposes - but Remus knew better.
“Sod off, Junior.” Sirius sneered back as he glared at the Slytherin from behind his book. 
“Oh, someone’s getting off, I can assure you.” He jeered; a mischievous sparkle shining in his eye giving Remus not nearly enough time to prepare for the coming theatrics. 
“Oh? Could you hear me and your mum last night?” Sirius replied haughtily, turning a page of his book for show. “I’ll try to make sure we’re quieter next time, but she’s a screamer.” 
Barty simply hummed as he dragged a finger across the back of a chair; expression glowing like he was simply loving this. “Are family members not off limits then, Black? Because if that’s the case, someone really ought to tell Reg and Potter that there's no need to be rutting against each other in the third floor broom closet like a couple of ne’er-do-wells.”
Sirius was standing in record time; his chair grating across the floors before landing with a thunk and his book (prop) laying long forgotten.
“You’re not serious.” Sirius spat menacingly, a true testament to how riled up he got over his brother and best friend (even though the two had been publicly dating for almost two months now) that he didn’t even bother censoring himself against the verb form of his name.
“Deadly.” Barty smirked, and that was all it took for Sirius to go racing off into the castle to cause a bigger scene than either Regulus or James had been prior to the announcement of their secret tryst. 
The library returned to its prior volume as Remus watched 'Barty' simply stare after the last place Sirius could be seen. 
“That’s not nice, dove.” Remus chided gently, though he didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he stared back down at his book.
“Whatever do you mean, Lupin?” You sneered back, but you were wearing a beaming smile that told him clearly you knew the ruse was up. 
“James has been trying very hard to make sure he isn’t throwing his relationship with Regulus in Sirius’ face.” Remus explained tiredly, though it was all for show. 
“And James has been making it very hard for me to not want to stab myself with a quill during quidditch practices.” You pouted as you took the seat across from him.
“All this over quidditch drills?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
You didn’t break his gaze nor the pout of your lips as you added “and he ate the last of my fizzing whizzbees.” 
Remus hummed in understanding. “An egregious crime, certainly.”
“Right? What would you have done if he’d eaten all your chocolate?”
“Nothing short of murder; he’d be out the dormitory window.”
“See, I knew you’d get it.” You replied with a smirk, though your eyes turned soft as you looked him over.
“Be nice to your brother.” He murmured quietly, earning a dramatic groan as you threw your head back in exasperation.
“I don’t have to be nice to him, he’s my brother.” 
“What would your mum say?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair and held his book against his lips to hide the smile on his face.
You groaned again and looked over at him nonplussed. “To be nice to my brother.” You offered back in monotone.
He lowered his book so you could see his beaming smile, causing you to launch forward in an attempt to swipe his book from him only for him to catch your wrist instead.
“How did you even know it was me? I thought I had the impression down pat.” You murmured quietly, face now inches from his.
“You certainly look like Junior.” Remus conceded as he gave you a once over. “But he would have never let that comment about his mum fly.”
You let out a bark of laughter that Remus knew to be only yours. “That’s true, I suppose. I’ll do better next time.”
Remus gave you a shake of his head in faux admonishment as he leaned closer to you. “I’ll always recognise my sweet girl.” He murmured, massaging the inside of your wrist that he was holding captive with his thumb. “I’d recognise you by smell alone.” 
Your gaze turned hungry as your eyes flit down to his lips and then back up again. 
But Remus pulled away before you could connect your lips to his.
“Do not kiss me as Barty Crouch Junior.” He deadpanned, causing you to let out raucous laughter that got you more than a few shush’s from surrounding tables before he watched you melt back into yourself.
Remus loved your mischief, but this was by far his favourite version of you.
826 notes · View notes
gladiatorcunt · 6 months
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summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader
cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe
wc: 1k +
block & move on if uncomfortable !!!
don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work
kinktober masterlist
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You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.
He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.
You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.
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“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.
You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.
Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.
“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.
Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.
You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.
Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.
“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”
“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.
He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”
His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)
He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.
“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.
He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.
You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.
“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”
You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.
He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.
The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.
You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.
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alexa-fika · 9 months
Note
Hear me out
Dragon!Child!reader is just casually flying along the seas visiting many islands and just vibing, Child got no concept of the government at ALL so whenever Reader wants to get some food she always remembers humans uses these gold coins and reader just coughs it out. BASICALLY UH Calm peaceful Dragon child flying and having fun while others are like
'IS THAT A FREAKIN DRAGON-'(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)
(okay I don't know where this is going now ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ)
Wandering Dragon ( Whitebeard pirates x dragon!fem!child!reader x revolutionary army)
A/N: Here we go! I only did two crew’s, more like one and a half because I really wanted to give you guys something. I really love writing these hybrid!reader they are so fun.
Part 2 with The Whitebeard pirates
Dividers by @/saradika
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“Where did she come from?” Dragon asks as he stares at the running child, her tail trailing behind her as she ran
“She flew into the ship a while ago, said she was exploring,” Ivankov answers as he watches the girl jump into Koala’s hands, laughing
“I’ve never seen something like her in all my years!” Koala grins at the child as she curls up on her shoulder
“Nor have I, I don’t ever remember seeing one of her kind in my life,” Sabo speaks up as he leans in closer to get a better look at the girl
She leans back from koala, wiggling out of her grasp and flapping her wings flying in front of Sabo
“Whoa there, aren’t you cute?” Sabo glances at the child with a slight smile on his face, reaching a hand out towards her
She furls up in a ball, beaming at his comment, still keeping herself up in the air, her cheeks tinted pink
“Thank you~.”
“You have scales on your cheeks… are you a dragon girl?” Sabo asks, still reaching his hand out carefully toward her
She unfurls herself, leaning into his touch and allowing him to feel the scales on her cheek
“Im Dragon Hybrid; I guess that makes me a dragon girl,” she says, thinking about it
“A dragon girl… that’s pretty incredible,” Sabo murmurs, smiling softly at the girl as he lightly runs a finger across her cheek
“Are you a Dragon Man? They called you Dragon. Are you a cool dragon? Can you breathe fire? Or are you a water dragon? Does your form like a serpent?” She rambles, flying in front of dragon excitedly
“She’s energetic,” Dragon says before sighing as he watches the child and rubbing his temples as he watches her buzz around
“I think she’s adorable,” Koala gushes with a grin on her face
“No. I am not a dragon; My name is Monkey D. Dragon.”
“Awe, no dragon? Nothing?”
“What do I look like a Dragon to you?” Dragon sighs, rubbing his hand down his face as he stares at her
“Hmmm,” she thinks as he circles him
“Yeah, kinda do.”
“Please tell me how I look like a dragon,” Dragon asks with a scoff in his tone
“You remind me of some of the grumpy dragons; they have that same scowl you have right now.”
“That is quite an interesting way to describe someone,” Dragon replies, shaking his head with a slight grin
“She is an interesting child, that’s for certain” Sabo speaks up, glancing at her curiously while she circles his captain
He grins as he calls her over
“Check this out,” he says, lighting his hand on fire
She awes at the sight
“Are you a dragon?”
“Just an ability granted to me by my devil fruit” He smiles, returning his hand to its original state
“The mera mera fruit! Somehow both me and my brother have it.” ” He continues, excited about demonstrating his abilities
She marbles at his numerous tricks and fire abilities that he keeps showing her
She frowns as nightfall falls; hours had gone quickly as she went from member to member with her usual antics
At one point even giving Ivancov a heart attack as they casually started coughing out golden coins when they had asked her how she bought food for herself.
“Is this not how you guys normally get these shiny things?” She had questioned, much to the shock and horror of some of the crewmates
“Aww, I have to get going now.”
“You’re going?” Koala looks at her disappointedly; she had enjoyed being around the child
“Mmhm, I have to keep going if I want to explore and meet more places and people. Im sure I‘ll see you again 'cause we're both moving around.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing you again then.”
“Goodbye, be careful on your travels, alright?” Sabo says with a soft smile before reaching out to gently ruffle her hair before she takes off
“And don’t get yourself into too much trouble!” Ivankov calls after the girl before turning to the others,
“Well, she was a pleasant surprise” he grins
“I didn’t expect a child to just wander into our ship,” Dragon chuckles while rubbing his head
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Reader had now somehow found themselves aboard the Moby Dick, she was tired from her travels and needed to land, and the ship happened to be the closest.
She sneaked her way to the storage room so she could sleep the night away, and she did until she was interrupted when two of the ship's commanders descended into the storage room in search of more food to restock the kitchen. Ace accidentally knocks into one of the boxes, startling awake the dragon girl; he stares at her for a while as she stares back.
“Thatch, are you thinking what im thinking?”
“Yep, old pops is gonna throw a celebration when he hears we have got ourselves a kid on board.”
She stares at them for a second and smiles
Ace chuckles before leaning down in front of you.
"What's your name, kid?" he says, grinning.
“Im reader!” She replies, her wings flapping gently behind her
"Well, hey there, Reader. I'm Ace. And that's Thatch," he says, gesturing to the man standing next to him.
She grins and waves at them excitedly
Ace laughs and picks her up.
"What are you doing stowing away on our ship, anyway? It's not like you could even fit in these boxes. You know, most stowers usually just do it so that they can rob our ship. But the thing is, I don't see any weapons on you." Thatch comments, observing her
“Im not stowing away! Im exploring!” The pout,
“And I don’t need any weapons! I got these!” She says as she wacks her tail and wings and gently headbutts Ace with her horns
Ace laughs as she headbutts him.
"You're pretty feisty, huh? That's a good trait for a pirate. And you say you're not a stowaway or a robber, but you're definitely a bit of a troublemaker, aren't you?"
“Im not a Pirate either.”
Thatch chuckles, a bit confused.
"You're not a pirate? Well, what are you then? A marine? A merchant? Or even a traveler?" he asks.
“Umm, I ‘m Reader!”
"Well, okay then. And how old are you, Reader?" he asks.
“8!”
Ace laughs, looking at Thatch
"Eight? Now I really want to take her to Pops. Because I can already tell that he's gonna love you, kiddo." He says, glancing back at her
“Popsicle?”
They snicker
"Popsicle? No, no, no, no. Pops. Our captain. Whitebeard? He's probably gonna get a kick out of finding a stowaway as adorable as you." Thatch explains
“Not a stowaway!”
"Okay, okay, okay. Fine, fine. You're not a stowaway. You're just an adorable little kid who decided, at eight years old, to explore on her own. Not to mention, you just decided to explore the ship of the Whitebeard Pirates, of all places.”Ace says, fixing his previous statement for the small girl
She nods, pleased with his description
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Sabo was so wholesome here 🥹, Also reader is a lowkey menace in this one lmao, let me know if I should continue this, add more to the whitebeard crew and/or add different crew’s as well.
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
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writersblockedx · 1 year
Text
Sparks
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Pairing - Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - Jeremiah goes to you for everything, and when you give him a vital piece of love advice, it dawns on him that he is, in fact, in love with you. Warnings - None? Slight mention of underage drinking. Words - 2K
Masterlist
As was common, Jeremiah was at a loss for his several hookups. And, as was even more common, he went to you to debrief and to ask for advice. While he had hookups and situation-ships way more than you did (or anyone in Cousins for that matter), he struggled with how to manage them. At least he did until he started asking you for advice.
He threw himself onto your bed, forcing you to shut the book you had been deep inside. There, staring up at the ceiling, he let out a huff. "What, or should I say who, is it this time?" You raised your brow at him, watching as Jere's wide pupils stared up to the ceiling as if he were replaying some memory over and over.
"Luke." He let the name out in a sigh. "And, And!" He suddenly added as if he had almost forgotten in his daydreaming gaze, "Abi."
He finally sat up, staring at you with them puppy eyes you could never resist. "Two?" You questioned.
"Yes." He said, barely embarrassed by such fact; at this point, it was to be expected. "Reframe from any criticism please."
"I'm not gonna criticise you, Jere." You told him, a sweet smile gracing your lips. "If anything, I don't see what the problem is here."
He took a second before shrugging, "I just- I feel wrong, you know? Guilty." He explained. "Like I'm going behind their backs."
"Okay then, well you either need to tell them both the truth or pick one."
Jeremiah thought about the options for a moment and ran both scenarios through his head until making his decision. "I have to pick one." He said before looking at you, uncertain, "Right?"
"If that's what you want." You comforted him.
At that, he let himself fall once more. This time, right into your lap as he made a dramatic sigh as if this decision was a life-changing one. "What if I don't know what I want?" He questioned, gazing up at you, his sea-blue eyes catching you into his trap.
You let a sniffle of a laugh as you looked down at him, "Oh, trust me Jere, you've no idea what you want. But, that's okay too, sometimes you have to experiment with different people until you know what you want." You went on.
That seemed to spark another question for him, one of which wouldn't leave his head for the next few weeks: "How do I know? Like, how do I know that this is someone who I want a relationship with? A proper relationship, not just a hookup."
For that, you needed to think. As much as you gave Jereimah advice after advice, that was a question he had never asked. "I suppose it has to be someone you feel that spark with. But not just a sexual spark." As you were certain Jere sometimes mistook it for. "A spark that reaches to a deeper, emotional level. Where you feel safe but excited at the same time. A balance, I guess." That was what you assumed anyway. You hadn't had many successful relationships yourself.
But your words had seemed to prompt something for Jere. His eyes washed away, his mind sucking him into his thoughts. Until, after a long moment, he sat back up and with furrowed brows, asked, "How do you know all this? It's not as if you're happily married."
"No need to remind me." You giggled, slapping the side of his forearm.
Of which he chuckled at and defended himself, "I'm serious! You talk all this wise shit and can't even get yourself a date."
You could have scoffed, "I can get myself a date, thank you."
"Really? When was the last time you went on one?"
Then you did scoff, grasping the pillow from behind you and chucking it at Jeremiah's head, only erupting more laughter from the both of you. "You are so rude!"
Only once your mini pillow fight died down and Jeremiah returned home, did that question take over his whole mind. He strolled into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk as he thought over it: how did he know? The only time he felt a spark that wasn't sexual- well, he couldn't quite remember. Everything you had described, the safety but excitement, the emotional connection (and the sexual), well the only person he could ever even suggest he had felt that for was you.
"What's up with you?" His brother's voice broke him from the glare he had been giving the countertop.
His eyes widened, "Huh?"
Conrad and Belly, who had been trailing behind him, both giggled. "You're just a bit...out of it, you know?"
"Thinking."
"That's a first." Conrad laughed.
Jeremiah snapped, "Hey!"
"Go on then," Belly pushed, "What is it you're thinking about?"
The boy sighed, replaying your words once more. "A spark."
"Why's a hookup causing you an existential crisis?" Questioned Conrad, watching his brother in such a focused state that it was becoming a concern.
"It's not a hookup." Jere admitted. "It's Y/n."
Suddenly, that name peaked Belly's interest. She leaned closing, placing her elbows on the kitchen island as she watched the boy carefully, "What about her?" She prompted.
"I went to her for advice, as I always do, and now I can't get it out of my head. She was explaining how for love, you need a spark, an emotional connection, safety..." He stopped there, ever so stunned by his recent realisation.
"And?" Belly pushed on, one brow raised.
Jeremiah sucked in a breath, not making eye contact with either of them as he said, "She basically just described everything I feel for her."
He looked at his brother and his best friend. It was silent. At least for a moment as he took in their unreadable expressions; were they stunned? Embarrassed? Futile? Then, breaking the silence came Conrad's laugh. "You have a crush on Y/n, great." He shook his head. "It took you long enough."
Jere's brows instantly furrowed as he straightened his back, "What? How did you-" He couldn't get his words out.
Conrad looked to Belly, "Come on, back me up. It was obvious."
Jeremiah looked to his friend and Belly could only shrug. "It sort of was." She agreed. "But, now you know, you can ask her out!" Excitement was painted on her words. Belly had been waiting for this for almost longer than yourself.
"I can't do that. She's- She's Y/n. She's my best friend. It'd be weird." The idea was so foreign that it was unbelievable.
"She's your best friend who you're in love with!" Belly argued. "Think about it, please."
With that, she and Conrad left Jeremiah to his thoughts. Once more, you never left his mind. He had been trapped.
For weeks, it was all he could think about. He'd gaze across the other side of the pool at you. Shades covering your eyes as you bathed in the sunlight. There he was daydreaming of everything you would do as a couple. Granted, it was pretty much the same as how things were now, only littered with kisses and hugs and greater smiles than either of you had ever made before.
It came to the point where he was just bursting to tell you. But he waited. He had to wait until the right moment. He couldn't do it by the pool, with Steven and Belly watching. He would wait for the perfect moment. And when the group of you arrived at a local party, he knew maybe tonight would be the night.
A few drinks down, he caught you by yourself. You had wandered to the backyard, sitting on the stairs that led to the porch. He lingered by the patio door, watching you as you sat alone for a moment. Your curious expression was emphasised by the fairy lights which tangled over the wooden fencing, flashing pinks and purples across your cheeks.
You didn't even know Jeremiah was there until he came and sat next to you, your shoulders nudged up against the others. "Enjoying the party?" A smooth smile hung from his lips as he grasped the red solo cup in his hand.
You nodded and glanced over at him, "Yeah, yeah, just needed a break." You excused.
Jere smiled, looking back through the patio doors and the booming party he could still overhear. "That's understandable." He gazed back at you and fell, once more, into your eyes.
"What about you?" You nudged his shoulder playfully. "You're never one to miss a moment from a party. Shouldn't you be looking for Luke? Or, or Abi!" You spat out their names as they flooded back into your memory. You had lost count of all the people Jere had hooked up with.
His smile faulted at the mention of their names, "Erm, no, no. I actually ended things with both of them." He admitted.
"Oh, why?" You raised a brow. "Ended up telling them the truth?"
"No, no." He answered before he looked to the ground, licked his lips and questioned if this was the moment. Something in his mind said fuck it, and he did. "But it was actually because of something you said." Jeremiah couldn't tear his eyes away from you as that curiosity built on your expression once again. "When you were explaining it to me, everything that love made you feel, all the sparks and the connections. That you should feel safe with them but it should be exciting all the same. Well," He took a breath and ran with it. "You're the only person that makes me feel that way."
The air soon became thick with Jeremiah's words as they floated around your mind. This was Jere, your friend, your best friend. The one who had talked non-stop about her and him all while you were nothing but a bystander. Yet, here you were, sitting away from the party the boy was usually the centre of as he professed his love. And you could never deny your feelings in that it wasn't reciprocated.
This time, it was your turn to look to the ground, lick your lips and say: Fuck it. "Jere, I can't deny that you aren't utterly brilliant. I mean, you're incredibly beautiful, and you know it. You're charming and comedic, you bring a room to life. And I love being at your side for all of that, I want to be there in the future too." You took a breath, wondering if your next words were about to ruin that smile that was glued to his lips. "But, it's because I want that, that I want to be your friend. Just your friend." Like that, the smile dissipated. "I can't be some other hookup that you start complaining about because they get too attached, or too clingy. I won't let that be me."
He jumped to take your hands in his. What used to be a simple gesture between the two of you, had suddenly become complicated and you questioned if you should let go. "That's not what you are to me. I would have already tried that on you if that was what I wanted, trust me." He admitted. "This isn't me asking you to kiss me, or to have sex with me or whatever I do nowadays. I'm sat here asking you to be my girlfriend."
The word had been said. It was in the air and it was up to you what you did with it.
And so, you tightened your grip on his fingers and said, "I want you Jere and I trust that you want me to." From there, you leaned in before he could respond, securing a yes with a kiss.
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unforth · 19 days
Text
Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.
In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:
1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.
2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.
3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.
4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)
5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.
6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.
I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.
How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.
1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.
2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs
3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.
4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.
Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.
At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
Text
duties of the local hotel manager lesbian, plus one very desperate snake man
Sir Pentious: "PLEAAASSSSSE!!!"
Vaggie: "Ugh.” (reading clipboard) “Not now."
Sir Pentious: "PLEASSSE HELP ME!"
Vaggie: "I'm busy."
Sir Pentious: "PLEASSSSe? I will do anything! I, ah, I will do ALL the THINGSSS!!"
Vaggie: "I'm not giving you dance lessons! Do you know what my job here is?"
Sir Pentious: "YES! You are the expert in the loving of women!!"
Vaggie: "I'm hotel manager, and it's one woman singular-"
Vaggie: "Hostia! Let go!"
Sir Pentious: (clinging to her ankles) "I AM BEGGING YOU!"
Vaggie: "And what did I just say? No!"
Sir Pentious: "Help me, purple female! You're my only hope!!"
Vaggie: "Stop calling me that." (starts walks)
Sir Pentious: (still clinging) (getting dragging) "Forgive me! I will call you anything you want, anything you desssire!"
Vaggie: (glaring) (dragging him) "How 'bout my name."
Sir Pentious: "Your... name??"
Vaggie: "That thing I have that no one other than Charlie ever bothers to use-"
Vaggie: -just like the fucking hotel doormat."
Vaggie: "Alright WHO TRACKED BLOOD AND GUTS IN HERE AGAIN!?"
Charlie: (distant) "Not it!"
Sir Pentious: "I'm alssso innocssssent!"
Vaggie: (at charlie)"I know it wasn't you, sweetie! You like the brushy sound the mat makes too much NOT to use it." (at pentious) "And no shit it wasn't you, Pentious. You don't have legs."
Sir Pentious: "And I alwaysss wipe my tail!"
Charlie: "Speaking of wiping, can we add some more disinfectant to the shopping list? I think I'm about to use all ours up..."
Vaggie: "Sure thing. Use it up on what though?"
Charlie: "We-lll..."
Angel Dust: "Hey don't look at me like that, Cheery'O! Not my fault ya walked in without knocking first!"
Charlie: "Angel." (deep breath) "The library is a common area..."
Angel Dust: "Any common area can be a CUMming area if ya jerk at it hard enough~"
Charlie: "VAGGIEEEE! Disinfectant?!"
Vaggie: "On it." (scribbling on clipboard) "No problem."
Sir Pentious: "SSORDID SSSALASCIOUSS SPIDER! Sssee? Aren't I a better guessst than he isss? Perhapss dessserving of one, ssssmall favor?? I do not befoul the hotel with my bedroom bodily fluidsss!"
Vaggie: "No, you just keep blowing holes in it."
Angel Dust: "Ohhhh! Blowing!"
Sir Pentious: "Aha! Not thiss week I haven't!!!"
Charlie: "Angel, not that I don't appreciate the help but, could you maybe not lounge right on the shelf I'm trying to look through-?"
Vaggie: "Really? No major property damage in seven whole days?"
Angel Dust: "I'm finding the perfect book for ya, Charlie chip. Here, look!"
Sir Pentious: "Oh ah, welll, there might be a sssmall hole sssomewhere.."
Charlie: "...you know Moby Dick is about a whale, right?"
Vaggie: "I guess it's still improvement."
Angel Dust: "And gaaaaaay shit yeah."
Charlie: "I'm kinda looking for a bedtime story..."
Sir Pentious: "Improvement yes exsssactly! Jussst has my DANSSCING could be improved!"
Angel Dust: "Two dudes share a bed an' everything in this and ya share one with Vaggity Fair. Perfect fit, I tell ya."
Vaggie: (groaning) "Not this again...."
Charlie: "...I guess.. she does like nautical things like ships..."
Charlie: ".. hey why are some pages stuck together OH ANGEL DUST EW!"
Angel Dust: "That's a five star review right there ain't it?"
Charlie: "I mean I GUESS so but UGH!"
Vaggie: "Charlie? Content warning for the book- the whale kills Ahab at the end."
Charlie: "He WHAT!? No!"
(thump)
Charlie: "BUT- but they're FRIENDS! BESTIES!"
Vaggie: "Not when your dad isn't reading the story sweetie, sorry."
Charlie: "Nooooooo...!"
Angel Dust: "Eh, nothin' some porn without plot fic can't fix. You can be the whale mermaid, V Gal can be the broody crazy ship captain, an' by the third paragraph someone's getting harpooned reeeeeal good and deeep-"
Charlie: "Stop helping me, please."
Angel Dust: "Nah. I'm too booored. Ya place is booooring, Charlie chip."
Sir Pentious: "I disssagreee! WHOLEHEARTEDLY!"
Charlie: "Thanks, Pen!"
Sir Pentious: "YOU ARE MOSSST WELCOME!"
Sir Pentious: (stares up at vaggie hopefully) (tail wagging)
Vaggie: "Pentious...." (sigh)
Vaggie: "Look. How the fuck do you even expect me to teach you dancing stuff when all you have is a tail? Do I look like I know how to do tail dances?"
Sir Pentious: "I DO NOT KNOW! I have no expertissssse in dancssssing! That issss why I sssso dessssperately require your help, oh wissssse and fearful hotel manager!!"
Vaggie: "Still not my name."
Sir Pentious: "PLEEEEEEEEESE-"
Vaggie: "Hold that thought. TO THE OTHER NON-CHARLIE IDIOTS LIVING HERE! Why won't you use the fucking doormat? What the fuck kind of first impression are you trying to make the hotel have!?"
Husk: (slumped over bar) "If we were aiming for a fucking honest impression, we'd need more blood and shit in this place."
Niffty: "Ooooh~" (puts two bugs and some ice in cocktail shaker and shakes) "Blooood."
Husk: "Case in fucking point you little creep."
Niffty: (GIGGLES)
Sir Pentious: "I! I think thisss isss a fine and upssstanding essstablissshment!!"
Husk: "Then you're a dumbass."
Sir Pentious: (HISS) "Ssslander! I DO NOT EVEN HAVE AN ASSSS!"
Vaggie: "Ignore him. Go back to sleeping off the hangover, Husk. You're still shit company right now."
Husk: (grumbles) (curls up under wing)
Niffty: (drapes washcloth over him and pulls out needle) "Blooood..?"
Vaggie: "No Niffty, whoever did this should deal with it this time. You go, uhhh- go catch and juice some more cockroaches or something-"
Angel Dust: "DID YA SAY JUICY COCK-"
Vaggie: "ROACHES YOU MORON! Bugs! Small unsexy creepy crawlies! And so help me you'd BETTER be unsexily helping Charlie decontaminate the library or I sWEAR-!"
Vaggie: "Wait I know those stupid dancing shoe tracks- maldita sea-!"
Vaggie: "ALASTOR!"
Alastor: (oozing from shadows) "Yeeees~?"
Vaggie: "These your shoe marks?"
Alastor: "Indeed they are! And I am TOUCHED you know me so well!"
Vaggie: "Wipe your feet next time. Or do I need to grab you by the scruff of your neck and rub your face in the mess you've made?"
Alastor: "Oh that won't be necessary my dear, even if you WERE capable of it!"
Vaggie: "So you know how to use a doormat?"
Alastor: "Of course~ I am QUITE skilled-"
Vaggie: "Great. Then wipe your feet."
Alastor: "..Now?"
Vaggie: "Now."
Alastor: "......"
Sir Pentious: (tugging at his pants leg) "Do asss sssshe ssasys, pleasse! I need her in a good mood!"
Alastor: "Hm..."
Alastor: (steps out of each and onto the mat) (whips shoes)
Alastor: "Satisfied?"
Vaggie: "Getting there. Now clean up your mess before Niffty has to."
Alastor: "Oh I wouldn't want to DEPRIVE her! All that fresh blood and viscera? You know how much she adores-"
Vaggie: "Then she can go out and clean the streets of hell in her free time for all I care but in this hotel she is not gonna waste her time picking up after you just because you can't be bothered to show her, or the HOTEL, a little fucking respect. You clean this up. Got it?"
Alastor: "You know, my dear." (shadows looming) "I'm not entirely certain you yourself 'get' wHo you ArE tALkINg TO....."
Sir Pentious: "AHHH!" (cowers behind vaggie) "SSSAVE ME MOTH WOMAN!"
Vaggie: (at alastor) "Ohh. Terrifying."
Vaggie: (at pentious) "Also not my name."
Vaggie: (at charlie) "Charlie!"
Charlie: (distracted) "Listen to Vaggie, Alastor! She's hotel manager for a reason- Oh EW what oh shit-"
(cRASH)
Vaggie: "Babe?"
Charlie: "I'm okay, I'm fine!!! We didn't need that glass cabinet anyway, not after what Angel Dust did all over it yesterday!"
Angel Dust: "SIX TIMES bab-y!"
Vaggie: "I don't want to know." (points at alastor) "You heard her."
Alastor: "I.. did."
Vaggie: "Then get cleaning."
Alastor: (sweeping bow as shadows start cleaning) "My pleasure my dear! Anything to stave off the inevitable FAILURE of this quaint little venture and so prolong your DAILY SUFFERING~"
Vaggie: (checking clipboard) "Uh-huh whatever."
Vaggie: (heads for door) (stops)
Vaggie: "Pentious. Let. GO."
Sir Pentious: "But-! Danssscing???"
Vaggie: "No."
Sir Pentious: (wailing) "Mercy, spear wielder! Take pity on meeeee!!!!!"
Vaggie: "Spear wielder? Seriously? Are you allergic to my name?"
Sir Pentious: "H-how could anyone be have an adverssse reaction to ssssomething sssso marvelousss ass-"
Vaggie: (crosses arms) "Then say it."
Sir Pentious: "Errr..... it???"
Vaggie: "My name."
Sir Pentious: "Oh! OH YESSS your NAME of coursssse!! Which issss lovely, but ah. Ah- that would be too- it would be too INFORMAL! Yesss! I am not worthy!"
Vaggie: "You don't know what my name is do you."
Sir Pentious: "I DO!!! Obviousssly!!"
Vaggie: "Then say it."
Sir Pentious: "Um..."
Vaggie: "Say my name, one time, and I'll pencil you in later for dancing tips."
Sir Pentious: "......that'ssss very.. generoussss... yesss, thank you...."
Sir Pentious: "...Erm...."
Sir Pentious: "....Miss... Morningsstar'ssss mate?"
Husk: (SNORTS)
Alastor: "Well I DO suppose that one COULD say~"
Vaggie: "I'm leaving." (pries pentious off) "Don't follow me."
Sir Pentious: "AH NO! NO I KNOW IT!!! Your name isss- VAGELISS!"
Vaggie: "Charlie? I'm heading out now, okay babe?"
Sir Pentious: "V- VIGILANTY???"
Charlie: "Okay! Love you, kissing you, missing you already! Be safe!!"
Sir Pentious: "VIRGINA! No ah, no wait-"
Vaggie: (blows kiss in charlie's direction) "Love you too sweetie~"
Sir Pentious: "You are VIRGINITY!!!!"
Husk: "HA."
Angel Dust: "Is she?!"
Charlie: "Noooope!"
Vaggie: "My name's a lot less ironic than that. Life didn't shit on me that hard." (heading out the door)
Sir Pentious: "NooooOOOOO!" (wiggling after her)
Sir Pentious: "Sssweet lesssbian, ssspare me! I would be on my kneesss if I had any! SSCION OF SSSSSAPPHO I IMPORE YOU- APHRODITE HASSS SSSTRIKEN ME WITH LONGING FOR A PYROTECHNIC HAZZZARD!!!!"
Vaggie: (stops)
A bug: (scurries by frantically) (pursued by cackling niffy)
Vaggie: "...you know Sappho's stuff?"
Sir Pentious: "Yesss? Ssshe isss, one of the greatessst loversss of women in hissstory! Asss a fellow lover of women, I admire her greatly!!"
Charlie: "Oh my dad- my dad and mom did to!!! Neat!"
Vaggie: "Hmm. I... guess..."
Sir Pentious: (eyes huge) "You, guesssss..?"
Vaggie: "Fine. I'll trade help with the shopping bags for a couple of dance lessons tonight. Fair?"
Sir Pentious: "Yess? YESSS! Mossst fair!" (claps hands) "MINIONS-!"
Vaggie: "No minions. You want the lessons you carry the bags."
Sir Pentious: "Ma'am!" (salutes) "My noodlessssque armsss are at your sssservissce!"
Vaggie: "I guess they're also gonna be what we mainly focus on in dancing."
Sir Pentious: "Oh- isss the bag carrying, for practicess then??"
Vaggie: (flexing shoulders) (wincing) "Uh, sure."
Sir Pentious: "P-practicesss for dipping my dansssce partner, or for getting dipped???"
Vaggie: "Whatever floats your boat. Ship. Whatever."
Sir Pentious: "Then I sssshall do my besst! Anything for HER!!"
Vaggie: "That's the woman-loving spirit."
Sir Pentious: "Ssssweet victory ssshall be mine at lassst! By the way, what ISSS your name?"
Vaggie: "You were close. It's very gay."
Sir Pentious: "You are miss Very Gay???"
Vaggie: "These days? Yeah. I sure am."
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sant-riley · 2 years
Text
[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]
A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.
The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro
Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)
~
You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.
Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.
Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.
"Thanks Gaz! I love it!
"And not mine?"
"You're on thin ice, old man."
Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.
Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀
Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.
Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀
If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.
"You like me that much Bonnie?"
He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached
Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.
The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.
"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.
Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.
Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.
Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.
Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.
If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.
Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.
Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.
"You're the new kid, get to it then."
"Ghosttttt-"
"Don't Ghost me."
Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.
Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.
Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.
Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.
Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.
Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3
Taglist:
@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess
@stupid-ninja @milkmily
@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii
@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel
@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains
@marsbar127xx @baddump
@xncasi @king-cookiex
@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager
@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom
If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)
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runningfrom2am · 10 months
Text
leveling the playing field XI
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.3k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)
next part
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"You can't call me that here!" You hiss, taking the final steps out into the summer nights breeze.
"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" Coriolanus asks as soon as the door to the back of the building shuts behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet alley behind the Hob.
You groan, dragging your hands over your face. "I had nowhere to go."
"Well, I... what happened?"
"Does it really matter?" You just shake your head looking up at him now, face red with anger. "If we're gonna talk, how about we talk about how you tried to drag me down to hell with you, huh? How about we talk about you showing up after trying to ruin my life and kissing me like I'm some kind of object to you! After all this time! Let's talk about that!"
Coryo takes a sharp breath in, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You're not an object." He says, a hint of disgust in his voice, upset that you would even imply that he felt that way.
"Funnily enough, that is the bottom of my list of concerns right now!" You laugh dryly. "I thought we were friends! I thought you cared! And maybe that was stupid of me but don't come back now saying that you do." Your narrowed eyes are rimmed with tears now, and he can see that you're hurt despite you trying to shield it in anger.
"We are friends, I-"
"No, Coriolanus, we aren't, because friends don't do that!"
"Will you stop fucking interrupting me!" He shouts, making you jump. He's fed up with you always having to have the last word. "For once, just one time, will you let me explain?"
You just stare at him, jaw grit as you look up at him. You've never looked softer, your clothes and your hair are so loose and freeing and unlike you and you've somehow never looked more like yourself.
"I'm sorry. Okay?" He says, taking a hesitant step closer to you.
"Is that all you've got?" You scoff, nodding to yourself and pushing past him to walk back inside.
He can't let you go again, he just can't. He grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
"Y/N, listen, I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it, I shouldn't have pulled you into that but they already knew and I just wanted to be able to help you." Internally you roll your eyes, relaxing your arm so he knows you won't run. You'll hear him out. "All I wanted was for you to come with me, I thought they would ship us off together."
"Me? As a peacekeeper? Un-fucking-likely." You reply bitterly. "Did you think that through for even a second before you decided that I would be better off with you? Or were you just scared of being alone?"
The question makes him pause, which was enough hesitation for you to pull your arm away and start walking off toward the street. "Tigris wanted me to tell you they love you, by the way!" You call back over your shoulder, turning the corner and disappearing out of his view.
You walk around the building and back to the front entrance, hoping you could lose him in the crowd if he decides to follow you. You were no longer in any mood to dance, that's for sure, so you would just wait for the show to end in the back where you first talked to Lucy Gray again. You push through the abundance of people dancing, the music blaring in your ears. You make it to the desolate hallway, attempting to gather yourself before you really start to cry.
"Y/N?" You hear someone call from behind you, and you turn at the use of your real name. It didn't sound like Coryo, or any of the Covey band.
"Sejanus!" You squeal, running back toward him and tackling him in a hug. "God, I have never been happier to see your face in my life." You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"Likewise." He chuckles, rubbing your back. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm great." You grin, taking a step back to talk to him face-to-face instead.
"We have to find Coriolanus, he'll be thrilled to see you." He says, looking over his shoulder to see if he could spot the blonde anywhere in the crowd.
"Ugh." You groan, rolling your eyes. "No, I saw him."
He snaps his head back, looking at you confused. "You don't seem happy." He observes, stating the obvious.
"Tell me, Sejanus," You muse, resting a hand on your hip as you shift your weight. "If you had someone you perceived as more than a friend take the liberty of framing you for something that could cost you your whole life when they knew you were innocent, would you forgive them if their only apology was a kiss?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew you were stretching the truth, but Coriolanus had done the same thing, clearly, so what was the harm in wanting Sejanus on your side?
"I... what? No, he didn't- he didn't tell me that." He looks shocked, looking back again to see if he could see him.
"Well. That's what just happened, weirdly enough." You laugh, shrugging to try and portray that you don't really care much more than that.
"I- um... We were told you were sick." He changes the subject now, something you're happy about because one more thought about Coryo and you might be in tears; or you might start throwing things.
"Sick? No." You shake your head. "I ran because if I hadn't, I'd be six feet under in the Capitol cemetery by now, no doubt. That or I'd be lacking a tongue."
"Oh, wow." He doesn't know what to say, so you just hum in agreement. "Coriolanus almost convinced me you were dead, but I knew better. They couldn't kill you if they tried, I don't think."
You chuckle, shrugging slightly. "Well, yeah. So that's been my life recently. Now I'm staying with Lucy Gray." You explain. "But what about you? You follow out here Coryo too?"
"More or less." He nods, a slight smile on his face. "Hey, uh, I've got to go, got some business to take care of but we'll get together again soon, okay? I'm really glad you're alive."
You nod, hugging him again. "Yeah, of course. I'm staying at this ugly, old grey house at the edge of the seam, past the end of the road. There's goats out back, you can't miss it. You'd think there's nothing out there, but trust me, we'll be there. Come by sometime when you're free, okay?"
"Will do." He agrees, hugging you back for just a moment. "I'll see you soon, Miss Sage." He teases, giving you a polite bow before turning to return to the party. You furrow your brow a bit as he almost directly approaches Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's ex alongside one of his scummy friends, but you decide to mind your business. Sejanus was always too nice to everyone for his own good, anyway.
"Y/N's here." Coriolanus states, both him and Sejanus helping to carry their intoxicated bunkmates back to the barracks. "You see her?"
"I did, yeah, I talked to her." He nods, eyes straight ahead as their shoes crunch over the gravel.
"You talked to her? When?"
"A little after her performance, she was heading to this back room. Seemed awfully upset."
Coryo sighs. "What did she tell you?"
"That you betrayed her." Sejanus answers simply, adjusting his friend's arm over his shoulder. "That she was going to be killed or worse if she stayed."
"That's not-" Coryo thinks it over. "I didn't betray her, Sejanus. We know one baseline thing about Y/N Y/L/N and it's that she is, if nothing else, dramatic."
"Really? I wouldn't describe her that way." Sejanus argues subtly. "She's outspoken, maybe slightly obnoxious at times, but I feel like I am too. The one thing I know for sure about her is that she's not a liar, Coriolanus."
Coryo doesn't know if he's more angry about Sejanus calling you 'obnoxious' or framing it so nicely that you don't keep your mouth shut when you probably should. You were his girl, his. No one should talk about you like that but him- praise you or critique you all the same. You didn't know it yet, necessarily, but you were his to protect and to fix, if need be. You were rough around the edges, that's for certain, but you would mellow out eventually if you ever forgave him. "She wouldn't let me explain."
"Oh, was this before or after you kissed her as an apology?" Sejanus matches the heavy statement with a laugh and Coryo rolls his eyes at his response.
"I just, I needed her to know I did it because I care. I thought she was dead."
"Okay, well, she told me where she's staying. Told me to stop by on a day off." Sejanus admits. "Maybe you should come with me."
"Maybe." He agrees.
It was another week of torturous loneliness before Coriolanus was graced with a day off, and not even so much graced as he had to trade with one of his bunkmates to have the same day off as Sejanus. As soon as they ate they grabbed a couple bags of ice to bring with them to help you and your new friends beat the heat- a peace offering, of sorts.
The early August sun beat down on their backs as they walked through the Seam, a decrepit and rundown residential area that Coryo had no doubt had never seen a single air conditioner in all its days. There's no way you were happy here. Even with the lightness of his t-shirt and the early hour, he still had to fight the urge to remove it and instead drape it over his head to shade his skin from the sun.
"There's nothing down here. She lied to you." Coryo mutters as the already crumbled road falls into nothing more than a trail.
"Y/N said we had to keep going past the road." Sejanus says, looking back at him over his shoulder. "You want to hate her so bad, but you can't."
"I certainly can." Coryo grumbles in denial. "She's giving me the runaround. Obviously, she gave you fake directions-"
"Are you sure about that?" His friend replies smugly, looking through the overgrown trees ahead at a small grey house circled in by a white fence that hadn't seen a wash in years.
Coriolanus doesn't say anything, mentally rolling his eyes at being proven wrong. "Alright, go knock, then." He gestures for his friend to go ahead.
"This is your big plan to win her over? Hide in the bushes while I go in?"
"No. I'm just sure she lied and a local drunk is about to open the door with a gun pointed at your head."
"Suit yourself." Sejanus replies lightheartedly, practically skipping up to the door and giving it a few gentle knocks before taking a step back.
It's only a few moments and lots of chatter from inside before the door is swung open. "Hello there, what can we do ya' for?" Lucy Gray grins, and Sejanus looks pointedly over his shoulder at Coryo.
"Hi, I'm Sejanus, I'm a friend of Y/N's from back home." He explains and she smiles.
"Of course! I thought I recognized you, come on in, she's out in the back but you can just pass right through." She lets him in, looking at Coryo standing just outside of the fence line.
"You coming, Coriolanus?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as she holds the door, leaning against the frame.
He plasters on a smile, nodding and walking up to her on the porch that he's shocked doesn't collapse under his feet. "How are you?" She grins at him. "It's good to see you."
"You too." He nods. "I'm glad to see you made it home safe."
"Hey, well, welcome to the club." She chuckles, closing the door behind him. "Y/N's just out back." She points toward the back door. "But she's not too keen about seeing you, you know."
"So I've heard." Coryo sighs. "The feeling is mutual."
"Then why are you here?" She asks her previous mentor calmly. He's stumped by this, unsure how to respond. "Well, if it helps, I'm real glad you're here. I missed you." Lucy Gray promises, leading him to the back door and swinging it open.
Your head turns at the appearance of Coryo's silhouette on the back stairs. You internally groan, of course Sejanus would bring him. "And you brought Coriolanus." You smile bitterly at your friend, sliding an ice cube from the bag across your bare collarbones over the shirt you had now cut the sleeves off completely to turn into a tube top.
"Yeah, well, I figured you might want to actually talk." Sejanus offers, raising an eyebrow at you.
"We wanted to make sure you were doing okay here. Living up to your high standards." Coryo replies for you.
"Do I look uncomfortable to you?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip. "Well, now you've seen it all. Thanks for coming, Coriolanus, but I'm clearly happy here, so you can be on your way. Don't you have a rebel to shoot at?"
"Hey, woah-" Sejanus chuckles, holding his hands out to you in mock surrender. "Y/N, we just wanted to visit. I know I speak for both of us when I say that we've missed you."
You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. You were nothing if not polite, raised to be a flawless hostess in your own home. "Alright. Sit." You gesture to the patch of grass next to you, by the little garden you're digging into to start some fall flowers. You've always wanted to try a garden, but your family paid people to do that and you didn't have the time, so why would you?
Lucy Gray and Sejanus do most of the talking, and you try to avoid looking up much from the dirt you're digging up and the small seeds you're planting. Coriolanus is sitting too close to Lucy Gray for your comfort, but you've been working on your temper, and until he showed back up it was going really well.
"Lucy Gray!" Billy Taupe calls from the front of the house, drawing all of your attention. You'd seen more of him than you have cared to since you've been here, he just won't leave her alone.
"Oh lord, here we go." She huffs, standing up and brushing off her skirt.
"I'll come with you." Sejanus offers quickly, standing as well. You're reminded of how, apparently, he and Billy Taupe know each other but you still can't understand why. The two of them disappear around the side of the house, and you're left alone with Coriolanus.
You keep a straight face, continuing with your cycle. Dig a hole, move the dirt, bury the seed, water it, repeat.
"What are you planting?" He decides to break the silence, moving a little closer to you and leaning back on his palms.
"Flowers, some fruit." You mumble back, keeping your focus on your hands.
"Isn't it a bit late in the season?" He asks, head tilted as he watches you.
"Raspberries are perennials." You reply plainly. "And roses bloom until late fall, do they not?"
"They do." He nods in confirmation, smiling a little to himself. Raspberries and roses together. He wonders if you even know what you're doing, or if this was a subconscious yearning you didn't know you had; to be with him in every form.
"Then there's no harm in planting them now." You say, stopping to take a quick break. You lean back on your calves where you were kneeling, grabbing the ice bag that is now mostly melted to drink out of. You hold it out to Coryo when you're done, shaking it when he hesitates to take it from your hand. "Drink. It's hot, you'll get dehydrated quickly even just sitting out here."
Coryo takes it at that, looking away quickly when he catches that glimpse of pity in your eyes, the same look that plagued him in the weeks leading up the the games and after he thought you died. He hated it until then, but now, maybe it wasn't so bad. At least you were looking at him, and it seemed like it was some kind of inherent need you had to take care of him. The thought of that made his stomach flip.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you." You say suddenly, catching him so off guard he almost spits out his water. District life really must have been changing you, and it was worse than he imagined. It wasn't just the loose-fitting clothes that were one stitch away from falling off of your frame, however breathtaking they may somehow look. Now, Y/N Y/L/N was in the business of issuing apologies? Someone call a doctor. "I shouldn't have said... that. It was cruel."
Coryo nods slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I figured you didn't mean it."
"You were lucky they had already decided my guilt. I would have torn your head off by now, otherwise." That's the Y/N I know.
"Sejanus told me they were going to execute you."
"Well, not necessarily." You sigh, pulling your skirt back out of the way before digging your hands back into the dirt. "It wasn't stated, but it was service that was suggested. Possibly nursing, probably under my father back home. When I climbed out my window, they were discussing the possibility of having me turned into an Avox. Highbottom said I knew too much, but I know my father would rather shamelessly bury me than have his oldest turned into a symbol of rebellion." You explain, now seeing no harm in telling him the full story.
"What do you know, anyway?" Coriolanus asks. It had been bothering him for a long time, and up until a week ago, he thought you took those secrets to the grave.
"That he and my father are proprietors of the largest drug ring Panem has ever seen." You answer simply, a smug smile taking over your features as you press some dirt carefully over a planted seed. "The main storage is in a secret room in our wine cellar, an old bunker from the war. I stumbled into it when I was thirteen-ish. I mean, you wouldn't believe everything they had down there. I haven't seen anything like it. Actual gallons upon gallons of morphling, other addictive crap that'll ruin your life, even weed." You giggle, sitting back again to gesture with your hand how big everything is.
Coriolanus can feel his eyes going wide at your confession, and he stammers. "I- wow, uh..."
"Come on," You chuckle, tilting your head at him like it was obvious. "Doctors don't have that much power unless they're a game maker Like Gaul, or have that money to start. They make money, sure, but not like that."
"Well," He swallows, nodding slightly at the intake of information. "That explains you being able to walk all over Highbottom for so long." He chuckles. It all makes so much sense now, how both you and Highbottom have a seemingly endless supply of morphling on you, and your father had a decently sized sought-after medical practice, but nothing that could add up to the amount of power and influence he possessed back home. "And the weed you brought to Livia's seventeenth birthday party."
You laugh. "No one even knew what to do with it- we were all so damn sheltered." You hum, matching his smile. "Still, don't tell anyone, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head.
"You sure? Because last I recall, you did snitch on me, Snow. And frame me, if I’m remembering correctly…"
Coryo sighs. "I know, I know... But I did mean what I said. I just- it was stupid, but I thought I could protect you. Genuinely."
You don't seem mad anymore, just smiling at him. "I know." You say, voice so sickly sweet and soft in a way he had only ever heard from you once before; when he was on the verge of a panic attack in the arena. You had told him that soon it would all be over, simultaneously you were right but you also couldn't have been more wrong.
You needed him to believe all was forgiven, and the small look of satisfaction on his face proves to you that it has worked. From here, the games were back on.
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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!
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WIBTA if i wrote a psa about people who broke my tos
✏️⚖️ (< for identification)
i make character adopts on toyhou.se and deviantart. i like designing characters but i rarely ever use them so i put them up for adoption so they can go to good homes. i have a tos for adopting my characters, which everyone is required to read before i go through with the adopt. the tos has rules about giving the character to someone else, which is that the current owner of the oc has to ask me first. there s a few reasons for this:
1 i dont want anyone reselling my character for more money than they bought them for unless they add value to the character by commissioning art or writing because its unfair to me who created the character if someone upsells them without adding value. having people ask first let's me make sure theyre not upcharging my work unfairly
2 i dont want certain people owning my characters. i have trauma surrounding certain people adopting my characters and using them problematically. for example someone ill call A once made my black characters skin lighter even though my tos says you cant change my characters race or body types. someone else, B, put my character into a proship relationship which is TOTALLY BANNED in my tos. i have a public list of people who are NOT allowed to own my characters and the idea of them owning them makes me super uncomfortable because i know theyll use my characters for bad things
3 it lets me make sure that the new owner has read my tos
a couple months ago someone (ill call them C) adopted a character of mine named lupin. a couple of days ago i was looking at my designs and i saw that lupin was now owned by D. i checked the ownership log which said that C traded lupin with D but i dont know what character C got in return. i sent C a message asking why they traded lupin without my permission and they said they didnt think they had to because it was a trade and not a sale. i told them that i have trauma around people giving my characters to others without permission and C said that i should talk to D instead because they (C) no longer owned the character.
i went to Ds profile and on their user page i saw a blocked comment so i unhid the comment and saw that it was B thanking D for following B. this set off alarm bells because i know that B is proship which is why i blocked them in the first place! so i decide to look into D, i find their tumblr and i find out that theyre also proship, they ship incest and they reblog irredeemable media like the coffin of andy and leyley
D wasnt on my blacklist specifically but its against my tos for proshippers to own my characters under any circumstances and its grounds for revocation. i message D to tell them that im revoking the character because theyre breaking my tos but D refused to transfer lupin back to me and blocked me.
i reuploaded lupins profile to my account and reported the original profile to th for being a violation of my tos, and i added C and D to my blacklist.
WIBTA if i wrote a psa about C and D to warn other people about them? i just dont want anyone else to go through this
What are these acronyms?
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silentmoths · 4 months
Text
A lick and a promise
Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.
god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES
Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.
Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)
NSFW
Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)
7k words, NOT PROOFREAD
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The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.
You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.
If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.
A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.
Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you. 
“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.
“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.” 
“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.
“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.
And yet he doesn’t kill you. 
He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.
“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”
“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.
“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead. 
After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.
-
The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.
After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.
If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.
’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’ 
But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.
There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb. 
Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived. 
As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.
Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on. 
Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.
It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up. 
As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.
A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.
No fucking way.
Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”
“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”
“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?” 
“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear. 
This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)
Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.
This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him. 
Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-
Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.
You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny. 
“Y’alright down there?” He asks.
“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”
Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array. 
“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.” 
Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing? 
Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore. 
“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”
You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.
“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!” 
You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life. 
“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”
Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.
“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.” 
You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.
“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.” 
Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?
He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack. 
It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.
“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”
“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”
“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…
“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”
Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”
Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him. 
He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -
It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.
In a tiny two person at most ship.
You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.
After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.
“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.
It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.
You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.
He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.
Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it. 
And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.
“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.
For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.
-
He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.
Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day. 
He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.
“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips. 
There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage. 
“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.
“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”
This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.
You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive? 
But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.
Something about it made you want to try.
-
It’s five years until you see Boothill again.
Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy. 
Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.
Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you. 
It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired. 
You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.
“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.” 
The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.
“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.
Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”
The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”
“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.
“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.
“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”
“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.
The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated. 
More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.
“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles. 
Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…
Warm.
“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so. 
Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.
“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”
His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.
“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”
A realisation settles across your mind.
“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?” 
He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.
“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”
“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.
“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”
“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.
“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”
You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.
“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing. 
“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.
“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”
A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.
You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly. 
Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.
His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.
“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”
“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”
“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.
“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles. 
You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.
“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”
“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”
His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.” 
Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.
“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him. 
You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch. 
“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens. 
If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.
He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…
His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him. 
His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it. 
(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.) 
You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.
Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play. 
Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots. 
Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now. 
A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you. 
“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…” 
“Tease.” you huff.
“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.
You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear. 
He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.
Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand. 
“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”
“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.
“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.” 
His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.
But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter. 
“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.
Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..
“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.
After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.
Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.
(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates) 
As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.
But you weren’t.
“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.
“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.
“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass. 
“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.
You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.
At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.
The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.
You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.
A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.
“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”
You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard. 
In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you. 
When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you. 
You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.
“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.
He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful. 
But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.
“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.
“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.
“Will you…at least come and visit me?” 
Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”
“How often?”
“S’often as I forkin can.” 
You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.
“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”
“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”
You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.
Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.
“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.
“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder. 
“Thank you.”
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sooniebby · 1 year
Note
Hello, I am actually not sure if requests are open or not but feel free to ignore me if they aren’t! Would you be comfortable writing nsfw, pirate Bakugou x merman reader? Maybe Bakugou found him and decided to examine, and found a “hole” on m/n’s backside.. y’know? :D Thanks love, your writing is great!!
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ఌ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
꧁ 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Word count › 2.2k
Rating › NSFW
Warnings › reader has a vagina. Use of pussy/cunt. Weird mermaid butthole
Kinks › breeding/creampie, dub con
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
Katsuki wasn’t scared of anything. Any sea creature was swiftly killed by himself before they could even get a chance at him. He was the leader of his ship for a reason. But the sea was unpredictable.
He had knew that.
His ship, and his crew, were almost killed by a sudden tsunami passing through. Their boat was set off course and they wound up on some island. It was deserted so he sent his crew to find someone to repair the boat.
His crew was pretty small. Just Izuku, Tenya, Eijiro, Mina, and some random ass man named Aizawa. He wasn’t even sure were Aizawa came from. But it was nice to have a much older pirate to give him some tips whenever he was having trouble.
He would never tell him that. That’s for him and his brain to now.
But being captain, he decided to stay back with Tenya to watch the ship. Tenya was doing the best he could to fix the ship but he certainly needed help and new material. It was a miracle the ship hadn’t sank.
Katsuki was giving Tenya his space to work properly when he spotted a body on shore. He ignored them the first hour, believing they were just sunbathing.
But the body didn’t move.
It didn’t move for two hours.
He decided to just check. Just to make sure he hadn’t been staring at a dead body for so long.
“I’ll be right back,” he grunted before jumping off the ship. He didn’t even wait for Tenya to answer.
Not like he could stop him. He was captain after all.
Once he reached close to the body, he froze.
A mermaid!
He had thought Aizawa was crazy when he told about it before. But no, a mermaid was on the ground. Dead..?
Katsuki leaned down and pressed his ear on the mermaid’s chest, waiting for a heartbeat. Maybe it shouldn’t be in the sun. He reached down to grab the mermaid’s tail(?) and tried to pick it up.
That didn’t work. It would’ve even budge. He grunted and decided to just drag it to the ocean. Grasping the end of the tail, he began to drag it.
The thing didn’t even budge. Could it really be dead?
The first touch of water on his feet and the tail sent the mermaid awake wihh the a jolt. It screamed in shock, mainly fear, and began to try and pull away from Katsuki.
“Hey! Calm down!” He yelled, letting go of the tail as it began to violently slash water in his face. Wiping away the water, he glanced down at the mermaid who had stopped moving.
It looked at him in fear before looking around the area.
“Where…?” It said but soon stopped.
“You okay?” Katsuki asked.
Katsuki wasn’t even sure if this mermaid had a gender. It looked male based on its flat chest and boyish features. But was that a male to other mermaids?
“The water..” the mermaid replied. He(?) looked at Katsuki before glancing over at their wrecked ship. A frown appeared on his lip. Was he connecting the dots..?
“The water pushed me away. I don’t know…” he looked panicked, tears streaming down his face. “Oh no…”
Katsuki didn’t know what to say. What could he say to someone, a creature he thought was fake, on basically being washed away from his family? How far did it take him?
“I can… I can help you find your family.” Katsuki said. He wanted to punch himself in the face. How the fuck were they supposed to find them?
A smile appeared on the mermaid lips. “Really?! You’re so nice!”
“Yeah…”
“Meet me back here tonight, yes?” The mermaid asked.
“Sure.” Katsuki said. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t sure he could actually do that.
“Call me… oh. (Name)!” (Name) said. “What’s your name?”
“Katsuki. Bakugo Katsuki.”
“Suki!” (Name) giggled.
“No—”
“I’ll see you later, Suki!” With that, (Name) went back into the ocean. Katsuki watched with a heavy feeling on his heart. He didn’t know what to do. For the first time in awhile.
He’d have to ask Aizawa.
“Hey! Those mermaids you were yapping about! I got a few questions.” Katsuki said when everyone else was sleeping in their quarters. Aizawa looked at him with a raised brow but nodded for him to continue.
“What if… what if they were real?”
“They are.”
“Tch! You know what I mean. What if you meet one?”
“Mermaids don’t like talking to humans. Only if they need something.”
“…what if you promise something one of them?” Katsuki asked, glancing at the sunset. It was almost time for him to meet (Name).
Aizawa finally turned to face him. “What have you done?”
“The fuck? Why’re you so scared?”
“Katsuki, what did the mermaid want?”
“To find his home. He got washed up by the tsunami.”
“Okay.. okay. What was the promise?”
“Well, to meet him tonight. The family was something I said.”
Aizawa seemed to calm down a bit. “Alright. Go tonight but tell him you can’t help him. You have a ship and crew to worry about. Mermaids aren’t as innocent as they seem.”
Katsuki hummed. “Alright. I’ll tell you how it goes.” He didn’t know why he felt sad. It felt so cruel to get the mermaid’s hopes up only to tell him no right after. But if Aizawa was fearful of the mermaid, he’d do what he said.
At the spot he had last seen (Name), it was about a twenty minute walk from the ship. It was a bit hard to see anyone from where his ship was, especially in the dark. Katsuki waited a bit until he saw (Name) swim up.
“Suki!”
“Hey, I’m sorry but i can’t help you.”
(Name) frowned.
“I have my ship and crew mates to worry about. We also got displaced by this tsunami too. I’m sorry for getting your hopes up.” Katsuki hoped that would suffice.
(Name) stared at him. He just stared. His mouth opened and suddenly Katsuki found himself in a cave. Katsuki looked around in shock, wondering just what the hell happened.
The cave was illuminated with blue crystals. It looked like the cave they had saw when steering themselves to this land. But how did he get here?
He looked around and saw (Name) beside him, on his front. His backside was out and free, showing off a hole in his tail. If (Name) had been human, Katsuki was sure it would’ve been where his ass is.
Was that a butthole?
Something was certainly wrong with Katsuki because never in his life would he willingly touch someone’s asshole. Especially a sea creature. But he slowly reached over and pressed both hands on either side of the hole and pulled it apart.
It certainly mimicked an asshole. But it was blue, like (Name)’s tail. Katsuki couldn’t help himself. It was as if his body moved on auto pilot as he slipped in two fingers with ease.
The feeling was unreal. He wasn’t sure what it felt like but he didn’t really have anything to compare it to. It clenched tightly around his fingers whenever he pulled them out too far.
“Suki…”
Huh? Was (Name) awake?
“Suki, you big pervert!”
The sound of skin slapping together caught Katsuki’s attention. Whatever or wherever he was, he was back on the beach. The sand on his back and the moon shining down on him.
Did he take any fucking drugs during dinner? What the hell was going on?
“Suki! What were you dreaming about?”
Katsuki grunted as he looked at the heavy body on top of him. It was (Name). But with a human lower half. (Name) had a pussy. But still had a male upper half. It was strange but Katsuki couldn’t ignore the pleasure he got from (Name)’s pussy(?) around his cock.
Was he going crazy?!
“You’re so big, Suki. I’m glad the moon chose you,” (Name) moaned, picking up the pace as he slammed down on the cock beneath him. His moaning tied with the slapping of skin was so foreign to Katsuki.
He had become a pirate since he was fourteen. He never had the time for dating. His crew and ship mattered too much to worry about dating. Sure he masturbated but he never felt tight heat of a pussy or ass.
And god was he angry he waited until he was twenty-five for it. What a boring life to live.
(Name) was a moaning mess, his pussy clenching down on Katsuki’s cock whenever he almost slipped out. He was too focused on his own pleasure at this point.
Katsuki grunted as he gripped (Name)’s waist. He wasn’t sure if he should push him off or pull him closer. Something about the moon above him was making him feel hazy. He couldn’t think straight.
All he could think about was breeding.
But he was never into having children. Was it because of (Name)? He wasn’t sure but he knew that future Katsuki could worry about that. Katsuki right now would enjoy the pleasure he’s been missing.
“Suki… Suki, please give me babies,” (Name) babbled, his bouncing beginning to be inconsistent. He was getting tired. If (Name) was a mermaid all this time, using legs would be so tiring.
Katsuki smirked to himself. He might as well help the poor guy out.
With ease, he switched their positions. (Name) squeaked as his back touched the cold sand and Katsuki towered over him. He blushed at the sight of him covering his body.
“You want a baby so bad? I’ll have to breed this cunt, then.”
Katsuki slammed his cock back inside (Name)’s awaiting cunt, enjoying the squeals he got from him. He reached one hand down and rubbed at the large nub sticking out of (Name)’s pussy. It resembled a little cocklit, if he had to be honest.
The attention towards it gained screams from (Name). His hands clawed at Katsuki’s back as he wrapped his legs around his waist, effectively making him trapped inside of his wet cunt.
Whatever the moon was doing to his libido, Katsuki felt close already. His thrusting began to speed up, wanting to dump his load inside of (Name).
“Suki! Inside, please~!”
Katsuki simply grunted as he captured (Name)’s lips into a kiss. (Name) easily returned it, his moans being muffled by it. It took only two more thrusts before Katsuki’s was emptying himself inside of (Name), pulling away from the kiss for a breather.
“Suki, you helped me fulfill the moon’s promise.” (Name) said, grasping at Katsuki’s face as he smiled up at him. Katsuki hummed in confusion. He honestly just wanted to sleep.
“Mermaids are born female and male… but a curse makes males unable to have a cock. We have to get pregnant by human males. It’s why I have a vagina.”
“I’m so confused..” Katsuki yawned. “It doesn’t explain that weird dream..”
“Thats what I have in my true form. The moon gives us human body parts for the breeding. Thank you, Suki. I’ll be able to have babies.”
Katsuki simply hummed and collapsed on top of (Name). (Name) blinked as he heard the pirate fall asleep. In the moon, mermaids got their human body and much more hornier for breeding. It did enhance the human males’ libido as well but it always gave the after effect of falling asleep right after.
“But I’m still horny…” (Name) whined.
Katsuki woke up with a jolt. The sun was beginning to rise. He groaned in pain as he felt something clench around his cock. It felt similar to the weird hole in his dream.
He glanced to his side and saw (Name)’s back towards him. Katsuki’s own arms was wrapped around his waist as his cock was buried deep inside the asshole. (Name) had his tail back.
“Are you finished…?” (Name) whimpered, his breathing shallow. He sounded tired. Just how long did they go for?
“What the..?”
“You started to fuck me so suddenly. I think the moon was still affecting you to breed. But I’m back in my mermaid form, it won’t take.” (Name) sounded disappointed.
Katsuki glanced down to see the hole was drenched with cum inside. A few drops dripped out onto the sound. He kinda wished he was awake during that. How did a mermaid asshole feel to fuck?
Well, it’s not like he’d have anything to compare it to.
Katsuki pulled out, watching the sudden glob of cum that rushed out of (Name)’s hole. (Name) whimpered at the feeling.
“Sorry… but do you mind pushing me back to the ocean…?”
“Oh, sure.”
Once (Name) was in the water. He looked back at Katsuki with a grin.
“Can you come back here in six months? The babies would be born by then!”
Katsuki felt faint. First time he ever had sex was with a mermaid and he was already a father.
“Yeah.. yeah I’ll come back.”
With that, (Name) was gone with a flourish. Katsuki pulled up his pants as he tried not to think hard about how he was going to be a father to mermaids. How much would (Name) give birth to?
“I’m shocked you lived.”
Katsuki looked over to see a tired Aizawa.
“The hell? What do you mean?”
“Usually the mermaid kills the father. He probably likes you.” Aizawa muttered, turning to go back to the ship. “Oh, congrats on the kids.”
Katsuki wanted to fucking kill him.
But he wasn’t wrong. He was now a father.
But he did wonder, was (Name) really washed up by the tsunami?
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ END
Added a few things 🤭 little special something
Thanks for the request!
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feliciasharpclaws · 3 months
Text
✯ 𝑺𝑶𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑳 𝑴𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑨
we met because you didn't understand the language | m. verstappen
max verstappen x fem! ex kpop idol! reader
faceclaim: seo soojin*
summary: max moves out of monaco after breaking up with kelly and goes to a new destination where he would meet an ex (not so ex anymore) idol that would changed his life.
a/n: hi. my first language is spanish, not english, so there are most likely spelling errors. if you like it, please tell me so i can keep writing things like this. also this probably will have several parts idk.
warnings: use of the translator for the korean, mention of j*s verstappen (cause that man needs a warning himself).
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, charlesleclerc and 935,184 others
maxverstappen1: goodbye monaco you have such nice moments on my mind. i'll see you again at the monaco grand prix.
view all 638,108 comments
charlesleclerc: bon voyage mate! 👋
↳ maxverstappen1: thanks charles
↳ username: LESTAPPEN!!
↳ charlesleclerc: no.
↳ maxverstappen1: no.
username: 'goodbye monaco' he's leaving?
↳ username: seems like it
↳ username: i would leave too if i had too much memories with my ex girlfriend there
danielricciardo: i can't believe I had to found out this way man 😑
↳ danielricciardo: just wherever you're going don't die there
↳ christianhorner: be safe, you still have a contract till 2028, max
username1: @/christianhorner you should not remind your son he still has a contract. 🤷
↳ username: max is not horner's son
↳ username: i know but horner seems more like a dad to max that j*s
landonorris: see you soon mate 🙂
maxverstappen1 liked this comment
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yourusername
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liked by yourfriend and 189,385 others
yourusername: 또 만나 네요 :) we meet again :)
view all 463,167 comments
username: y/n!!!!
yourfriend: 괜찮아서 다행이야 glad to see you're okay
username: MOTHER IS BACK!!!
username: we missed youu 😭😭
username: she looks beautiful
username: does this mean she will debut again?
↳ username: i hope so
↳ username: i don't think so
↳ username: yeah i think that in korea her scandal still is something bad
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, christianhorner, charlesleclerc and 653,167 others
maxverstappen1: hello japan, i hope you have good intentions with me.
view all 367,482 comments
username: JAPAN⁉️
username: does he even know japanese?? 🤔
danielricciardo: amazing pic man!
↳ maxverstappen1: i'll thank the photographer
↳ username: EXCUSE ME??
↳ username: HE'S NOT ALONE??
↳ username: perhaps he met someone fron there
username: that looks like the chill part of tokyo
↳ username: nah it looks more like nagoya
↳ username: hold on where's nagoya??
↳ username: it's like hour and a half away from the suzuka circuit
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yourusername
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liked by yourfriend, em1lian and 983,027 others
yourusername: new city, new me
view all 102,152 comments
username: am i crazy or is the 3rd pic the same one max verstappen recently posted???
↳ username: who?
↳ username: a formula one redbull driver
username: mother and that vroom vroom guy 🤔
↳ username: NO.
↳ username: am i the only who kinda ships them? 🤨🤭
↳ username: probably yes
username: em1lian like max emilian verstappen??
↳ username: you right now:
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a/n 1: I FINALLY GOT TO POST THIS! (honestly i forgot it was on my drafts). I used the woman who pulled me into kpop CAUSE SHE'S ICONIC AND SOOO MOTHER!! Her name is SEO SOOJIN, right now she's a soloist (she used to be on a girl group), she has a beautiful voice and she's an amazing dancer. If you like go check her out on Spotify or wherever you want.
a/n 2: is most likely that there's gonna be a second part, i don't now when am i gonna post it *cough start writing it cough* but i'll try.
That's all thanks for reading :) likes, reblogs and comments are always apreciated <3
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