#So I guess it's up to me to organize my time to write this once and for all.
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ohbueckers · 2 days ago
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HEART OF A WOMAN. we ain’t spoke in so long, probably put me in the past. i can still get you wet, and i can still make you laugh.
01, CHAPTER ONE. OLD SPARKS.
ju speaks. who’s catching my word play for this chapter ooouuu.. i’m having so much fun writing them already and yes, maya’s gonna be a problem (i am just so predictable). pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos. kinda content too? idk this fic feeds you all.
present day, may, 2025.
los angeles still doesn’t feel real.
it’s like a whole new game out here, and i’ve been telling myself i can handle it. going first in the draft was wild—i’d dreamt of that moment since i was a kid, but hearing my name called, realizing it was real, felt different. la’s been something else too, this city that’s both too big and somehow feels small once you’re in it. i’ve got an apartment with this insane view too. floor to ceiling windows, sunlight flooding in every morning, palm trees out front like something off a postcard, but it doesn’t quite feel like home yet. i guess i thought maybe it would by now.
the team’s been great, though. down to the vets, the coaching staff, the media team… every single one of them welcomed me like i’ve always belonged here, and that makes things easier. cam threw this party tonight to really celebrate me being here, not just another pr event, but like… i don’t know, like they actually wanted to get to know me better. her backyard’s all polished up. the gates hold up some fairy lights, and the smell of barbecue just tops it all off.
maya’s been around since day one, practically the second i landed here. she’s one of our coordinators—smart, organized, and just enough older than me. stanford grad, of course, which she’s mentioned just enough times that i know she’s proud of it. there’s something good about her. yeah, she’s good. she knows how to handle herself, that’s for sure.
nailea hasn’t been around. i thought i’d see her by now, maybe even catch lurking during one of my practices or just… run into her somewhere. i mean, i’m sure she wouldn’t quit her job because of me. she’s been quiet, out of sight. which is fine. we haven’t really talked since before the draft—if that’s what you’d call it. it’s probably for the best. i don’t think she really wants to talk anyway.
i’m mid-sentence, talking to rae and rickea about their pregame rituals when maya steps up, her manicured hand resting casually on my slouched shoulder like it belongs there. she laughs at something rae says, smiling, and i feel myself ease into the conversation a little more.
rae’s all animated, talking about how she won’t step onto the court without this neon scrunchie she swears by. i’m leaning in to give her grief for it when i catch something in my periphery—someone, actually.
nailea’s here. at my welcome to the league party, maybe just coming by to say she showed up. i’m sure cam would kill her if she didn’t, they got pretty close last year. she looks like she just stepped out of my memories, if you think about that memory everyday.
i suck in, turning in attempt to not make myself seen. then, rae, three jell-o shots deep and definitely feeling it, pats my thigh in excitement and grins wide. “nai! c’mere!” she calls her over, completely missing how i’m trying not to look too invested.
i bite my lip, turning my head back over. i see how she hesitates, and then she looks at me. there’s no emotion, not a single ounce of longing or surprise. she looks at me like i’m nothing. it hurts more than i’d ever admit, but at the same time, i get it. i don’t exactly have the right to expect anything else.
her eyes shift to the others, weighing her options, probably playing out how the entire encounter would go in her head, but rae’s insistence doesn’t really give her much of a choice. she flashes us a grin, though i’m sure it isn’t for me, before she slowly waltzes over.
my eyes follow her like some unconscious habit until she’s almost in reach. as she comes closer, i find myself sizing her up, cataloging the way her hair falls just right, how her shirt hangs off her shoulders. then, out of nowhere, rickea shoves a finger into my ear from my left, and i flinch, turning to see her arched eyebrows silently demanding that i lock in. i don’t question it—i do. a little bit.
“nai handles a good chunk of our pr. she’s doing game day operations this year too,” rae cuts through. she was on some paid internship last year, testing out every role the sparks had to offer to see what she liked. she moved up. got the job.
i don’t know why it stings that she’s doing good without me.
“we know each—“ i begin.
“we went to high school to—“ nai says at the same time as me, and i look at her. rickea is stifling back a laugh beside me, and nai finishes her sentence.
“paige and i went to high school together.” she says, and i stay silent. high school? is that all i am now? a high school buddy?
rae’s grin grows wider, and she’s so excited about it i can barely make out her words. “she’s so great, and basically our backbone now,” she says, nudging nailea’s shoulder. “if it weren’t for her, i’d be late to half my interviews, right?” she laughs, a little too loud.
“guess you owe her then,” i say simply, forcing a grin. nai’s eyes flash to mine, but they’re off me just as quick. i let mine stay, squinting as maya begins to ramble.
“and she makes my job way easier.” maya’s fingers tap against my shoulder, almost like she’s staking a claim. “you ever need someone to keep you in line, paige, she’s your girl,” she adds, smiling at nai, though there’s some unfamiliarity to it. i can tell that they know each other, just not well enough i’m assuming.
nai’s eyes drop to maya’s hand, just a quick glance, but it’s enough to make me hyper-aware of the touch. her gaze returns to my face, a single eyebrow raised in that subtle way that’s more telling than words. like she’s already put it all together, and she doesn’t need to say a thing. instinctively, i shift, shrugging maya’s hand off with a casual roll of my shoulder, trying to mask it as if i’m just adjusting my posture.
nai doesn’t react, but her mouth twitches, a hint of a smirk, there and gone.
she lets out a soft laugh as i lean more against the table now, and i caught the way maya dropped her hand to her side. “i think paige has got it handled.”
i raise an eyebrow, leaning back just a little. “could always use the backup.”
nai’s eyes flash with a quick, knowing glint as she tilts her head, that slight smirk of hers appearing like she’s been waiting for an opening. “backup?” she repeats, nearly cheerful. i hated her tone. “thought you were more into… side options than backups, paige.”
it’s subtle, just low enough that only i catch the full weight of it, but it lands. i let out a low chuckle, stroking my chin and licking my lips. “aight,” i say, swallowing down any reaction, “i set myself up for that.”
maya gives me a sidelong look, sensing the tension but probably not quite getting it. nai laughs softly, a quick, dismissive sound that shouldn’t hit as hard as it does. it’s almost like she’s proud of getting that dig in. i cross my arms over my chest, and for some reason, i can’t contain my own smile.
rickea jumps in then, catching the vibe—or maybe just rescuing me. “anyway!” she says, her voice bright, easing into some story about some mascot switch-up from last year nai had to handle. i nod along, pretending i’m invested, though every part of me is still reeling from nai’s words, her laugh, the way she looked at me like she had me all figured out.
but maybe that’s what she wants me to think.
the backyard’s emptied out now, save for a few stray bottles and a couple of plastic jello cups scattered across the tables. i slide the glass door open and step inside, the house now filled with some low music from a record player. i was planning to find cam, to thank her for throwing this whole thing together. but when i come into the kitchen, it’s nai i see, her sleeves rolled up, forearms wet, scrubbing out a vase under the sink.
she’s focused, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, and i catch myself looking just a second too long before she looks up herself, catching me in the act. she pauses for a moment, her hands stilled under the water before she continues.
“didn’t take you for the clean up crew,” she mumbles, a little low that i almost don’t hear it over the running water.
i shrug, poking my bottom lip out. “figured i owed cam for putting this together,” i say, eyes still fixed on her. “nothin’ like a little gratitude, right?”
she lets out a little scoff, eyes still on the vase, fingers working over the smooth glass, rinsing it under the stream. “cam’s got enough gratitude coming her way,” she murmurs, and i can’t really read the implication. “she doesn’t need more from you.”
the words are light, almost casual, but they land with an edge that sticks. i take a slow step closer, letting the sliding door click shut behind me as i stand by it, almost like i’m stuck.
“well,” i start, beginning to stroll closer with my hands tucked in my pockets, “maybe i’m here because i wanted to check in. see how you’re doing.”
her eyes cut to me briefly, unimpressed. “i’m good, paige,” she says, letting the vase drip dry on a towel, and turning her attention to the next one. “never been better, actually.”
“great,” i say, not breaking eye contact, even as she keeps hers on the dishes, hands slowing just slightly. “then you won’t mind the company.”
she lifts an eyebrow, smirking, and i feel my pulse spike. “company?” she repeats, cocking her head as she pauses, hands resting on the edge of the sink, she says, “i think i’ve had enough of yours for a lifetime.”
i wiggle my eyebrows at her. “aw, don’t be like that, nai.” i can’t help the laugh that slips out, soft and a little cocky. “where’d you pick up all this lil’ attitude at?” i manage to get a little closer with each word until i’m rounding the island. she knows i’m there, close, and trying to ignore it probably.
she sighs, setting the vase down with a clink that sounds just a little too deliberate before picking up the last one. “life has a way of teaching you things. people, too.” she cuts her eyes my way, just barely, still trying to act like i’m not right in her space.
“oh, so now i’m a life lesson?” i murmur, stepping so that i’m almost right beside her, leaning on the counter. “but you’re still here. helpin’ clean up my party.”
she hesitates, and i can see her jaw tense just slightly. “i’m here for cam.”
“cam, huh?” i murmur, my eyes never leaving her. “and what about me?”
she laughs, a little breathless, and it’s the first real sign of her softening. i’ll take whatever i can get. “you’re somethin’ else. you know that?”
of course i know that. she knows i know that, she used to tell me it all the time. she reaches to cut the water off, flipping the vase over on the counter to dry. “good somethin’ or bad somethin’?” i ask, inching just a little closer as i tuck my bottom lip between my teeth.
“depends on the day,” she replies simply, and i can tell she’s trying to occupy herself as she rearranges the glasses.
i smile, facing her as i lean an arm on the counter. “that a challenge?” i lick my lips. “you know i love a good challenge.”
she scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes but staying put nonetheless. “don’t think you’re up for this one, bueckers.”
“oh, i’m up for it,” i counter, following her every move. “in fact, i thrive on it.” i’ve managed to get so close now that i can smell the scent of her shampoo mingling with the faint floral notes of soap. i can’t help but notice the newfound lightness to it too, and i realize she must’ve switched out some old with some new.
“mhm?” she asks, that smirk returning as she finally looks at me. i love when she hums like that, like i’ve got her at loss for words or something. her gaze flicks down to my lips for just a heartbeat, but i catch it.
“yeah,” i whisper, testing the waters. “and i’m pretty good at winning.”
i can see the shift in her expression—the way her breath hitches just a bit. “and what do you think you’re gonna win?” it’s like it took everything in her to say that as she exhales.
i lean back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes fully, but my focus has found her lips again. “you know what i want,” i say, and my voice is almost a whisper. “i think you know exactly what i want.”
there’s a faint smirk on her face as she grips the counter. “no.” she says, seemingly very aware of my intentions as she shakes her head, but doesn’t move an inch.
i let my tongue swarm my mouth hungrily. “just one.” i practically beg.
she leans in, leaving a soft, fast peck on my lips, and i’m afraid it isn’t enough for satisfaction. she’s back staring, and before i get the chance to say anything about it, it’s like she already fought the doubts in her mind as she throws herself into me, lips crashing.
my lips press against hers in that familiar, heady rush that i’d almost convinced myself i’d forgotten. she doesn’t pull away—instead, her hand slips up to my shoulder, the same one maya had her paws on just a couple hours ago, and fuck i can barely bring myself to think about that.
my hand finds her waist, gripping just enough to feel her press against me, her breaths shallow, matching mine. i want to rip her clothes off and take her here, no matter how uncordial that may be, but the universe seems to have other plans.
she tastes like everything i’ve had time to reflect on, every memory i know she tried to bury. i’m rough, hands squeezing her waist so tight like i’m scared she’ll slip away if i let go.
but just as i’m getting lost in her, we’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps. we break apart instantly, spinning toward the door just in time to see cam step in, her eyes widening as she stops short, eyebrows lifting as she takes in the scene.
my tongue darts to the corner of my mouth as i place my hands behind my back awkwardly, as if to keep them from wandering. nai is smoothing out her shirt (the most obvious thing you could do in a situation like this), that guarded look slipping right back into place as she clears her throat.
“paige was just leaving.”
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gamercookies · 2 days ago
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Need help on what..? 
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Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers 
Word Count: 3.1k 
Warnings: “fuckboy”!hyunie, virgin!y/n, a bit of fighting (word/physical), unprotected sex, dirty talk, spanking,fingering, grinding, use of “daddy”.  Note: this is the most I spent writing lol, I will rarely write fanfics it’s been 3 months Might have a few misspellings. But I feel this is the best I’ve made in my opinion :3 Enjoy!! 
Your enemy Hyunjin, whom you heard he’s a fuckboy, have been enemies for as long as you could remember. One day, you decided to swallowed your pride and approached him for help with a homework assignment, What could possibly go wrong if he comes over? 
“H-hey.. Hyunjin?” You say with a shy smile.
“Ugh.. it’s you.. what do you want?!” He says in an irritated tone, but not loud to scare you.
“I was wondering.. if you can help me with a homework assignment. I’m a bit confused on the math, and I assume you must know an idea?” 
Hyunjin scoffs and smirks a bit, “is there a catch? You’re always mad when I tease you and shit, why ask me when you can ask anyone else in this school?” 
“Yeah but most of them don’t even know the basics of it.. but I have to ask you.. since you know it. Ugh.. whatever! but I need help so..please?” 
“Please? …” He stays silent thinking for a moment. “Fine, whatever. Where should we meet up I guess..”
“I was wondering at my place later today, around 6PM?” You ask with a smile. 
"Your place?" Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical about the arrangement. "Why not here or somewhere public? It seems like you're trying to trap me alone with you."
“Am not! I’m literally asking for homework help nothing else!” You say as you push him gently.
He stumbles back a bit, "But fine, whatever. I'll come to your place at 6 PM. Don't think this means I'm being “mr.nice guy” on you just because I’m helping you with the homework." His tone is playful yet assertive, but yet seducing. 
“See you later then bitch.!” He yells from across the hall as he leaves, yet teasing you once more. 
“H-hey! don’t call me that you asshole!” You yell back as you walk to the exit to start heading home. 
….
At home, you arrive getting welcomed by your cat (you own one) and you pet its fur. “Aww you miss me? don’t worry I’m home. I’ll go and grab some food for you to eat.” You go to the kitchen cabinet and grab the cat food. Dumping some onto the cat bowl you slowly start thinking about hyunjin.. You tell yourself, “why am I thinking about that asshole, he’s a pain in the ass at most..?” 
As you put the cat food away, you bend down to give the bowl, and placing it in front of your cat. You then head to your bedroom, all cozy, organized, your laptop well placed. Of course after a long day, and now that your cat is eating, you go take a shower. After 10 minutes later you walk out of the shower the cold breeze hitting your body. As you dry your hair, you head over to your desk, where your diary is and write a short note about today as always. 
“February 17. Today was good, chatting with my friends as always.. But why did I have to ask hyunjin for homework help..”
As you go on writing about your day, you don’t realize you’re talking about Hyunjin’s body features. After 5 minutes you stop and read it once more, “what? Why am I writing about him.. fuck.. god why do I feel like I want him so badly.” 
You get interrupted by the doorbell, you turn next to your diary and see the time. “6:02PM.” Hyunjin is here.. You didn’t even hear or realize the doorbell has been ringing 4 times. You quickly shut the diary running to the door, completely forgetting to hide it. 
“Hey! I’m here, hopefully you ain’t doing makeup for no reason!” He yells as he continuously rings it. 
You open the door, panting a bit from running, forgetting that you invited him for homework help not for another reason. “O-oh sorry I just wrote something real quick and completely forgot the time.” As you scratch the back of the neck nervously a bit. “Will you let me in? Or imma just be outside?”
“R-right sorry.. do you need any snacks or anything?” Hyunjin hears you explain if he’s hungry as he walks in, “No thanks, I didn’t come to kidnap some food, it was just homework help you said.” 
“Yea.. right. Let’s head to my bedroom of course, it’s mainly where I do my homework.” As you close the front door, you led him the way to your bedroom.
“Tsk.. took you long enough to answer I assumed you weren’t home or anything. The fuck you were doing?” He says in an irritating tone, looking at around the room. “Goodness, it's surprisingly clean in here, I thought you never bothered tidying up.” You scoff and roll your eyes a bit, “Are you seriously mad at me for it being tidy?”
"Mad? Please." Hyunjin scoffs dismissively. "Don't flatter yourself, y/n. I couldn't care less how long you take."
He saunters further into the room, glancing around with a critical eye. "Just hurry up and show me this homework already. Let's get this over with so I can leave."
You shift uncomfortably under his intense stare as you pull a chair for him to sit down next to you, “Well this question over here.. can you show me how to answer it step-by-step?” 
As he kept explaining it, you can’t help but secretly stare at him.. these feelings you feel, they aren’t hate, but more of love. But after an hour of homework help, you finish at last. Hyunjin on the other hand leans back and scoffs. 
“An hour on all that? Really? That's all the time you needed for one simple math problem? 
“Sorry it took long..it’s just that-” you say quietly. 
He interrupts you, “Pathetic, I could do it in 5 minutes.” 
“Hey, I said I was sorry!" You snap back defensively with irritation. As y/n stands up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, looking at him directly. "And maybe if you actually explained things properly instead of just showing off, it wouldn't take so long!" 
Hyunjin's expression darkens at your outburst, his jaw clenched tight. For a moment, it seems like he might lunge at you, but then his features relax into a mocking grin.
"Oh, so now you're an expert on teaching methods, huh?" he drawls sarcastically. "Maybe I should start taking notes from Miss 'I-can't-even-do-math-right' over here."
He pushes his chair back and rises to his feet, towering over you. "Shut up, Hyunjin!" You shout, getting angry at his words. 
Hyunjin snorts derisively at your outburst, he suddenly pushes you back giving you no time to react, “H-hey what are you doing?!” You quickly say as you stumble back and your diary in which you forgot to hide it falls from the desk. “Oh, look who's getting feisty. Maybe I should teach you a lesson in manners too, since you seem to have forgotten yours." His hand shoots out, grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. "You think you can just dismiss me after I helped you? Think again, y/n." 
But then, he looks at the diary bending down to pick it up from the floor, with a smirk. “Oh what’s this? Hmm.. Let's see what juicy details you've been hiding in here, shall we?”, as he is flipping through its pages with a smug grin. 
You stand up trying to retrieve the diary back with fear that he will reveal your new desire for him. “H-Hey give that back! It isn’t for you to read! Come on..! It’s my secret!” 
Hyunjin chuckles darkly, holding the diary out of your reach. "Secrets are meant to be shared, aren't they, y/n? And I think I deserve to know what's really going on in that pretty little head of yours." He opens the diary to a random page, raises an eyebrow as he looks over the words, and starts to read out loud from the page. "..'he looks hot, I just wish Hyunjin would touch me...' Oh, how scandalous!"
He chuckles darkly, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Looks like someone has a crush on their bully. How pathetic." 
You blush bright red, looking away in embarrassment "S-Shut up! It's not like that! I-I just wrote some random thoughts, okay?! You're making it sound worse than it is!" As you try to grab the diary back again. Hyunjin easily sidesteps your attempt to grab the diary, holding it high above his head,and laughs mockingly. "Random thoughts? I don't think so, y/n. This sounds suspiciously like a confession to me." He continues reading, his voice dripping with mockery. "'.. I wonder what it would be like if he kissed me...'" Hyunjin pauses, glancing at you with a wicked grin. "Face it, you want me. Admit it, you dirty little thing." As he tosses the diary aside, watching it land on the floor again with a soft thud. 
Your cheeks feel like they're on fire as you attempt to reject those claims, completely embarrassed and vulnerable as Hyunjin mocks your innermost feelings, "I...I may find you attractive sometimes, okay?! But that doesn't mean I like you or anything! You're still a jerk!"
Hyunjin moves in a bit closer, getting into your personal space while grinning at you. "A jerk, huh? At least I’m upfront about how I feel about you, unlike those who hide their feelings in diaries." He gently runs a finger along your warm cheekbone, and even though you're mad, his touch makes you shiver. "You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you want me just as much as I want you, y/n."
You suddenly feel like you’re dripping down there. “Fuck.. I-”
Hyunjin notices the change in you and smirks, his eyes flicking down, "What's wrong, y/n? Getting excited by my touch?" He moves in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, "Or perhaps it's the idea of me kissing you, caressing you, that has you so stirred up."
Your face turns even redder as you try to step back, but your legs feel weak, causing you to stumble backwards onto the bed, sitting down awkwardly. "Oof! .. stop it! Don't say things like that! That’s not what-“ Hyunjin watches you stumble back onto the bed with amusement. He straddles your hips, pinning you beneath him as he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear once more, “Don’t you want those fantasies of yours to come true~” He straddles you a bit, you can feel the bulge in his pants. “N-no.. I- fuck.. Wait, Are you hard?!.. damn it..” You cover your face in embarrassment.
Hyunjin grins wickedly at your reaction, his hardness pressing insistently against you. "Of course I am," he admits, his voice low and husky. "The sight of you, all flustered and blushing, it's incredibly arousing." He begins to grind against you slowly, relishing in your discomfort and arousal. "You can't deny the attraction between us anymore, y/n. We both want each other, whether we admit it or not." 
You moan softly, feeling yourself get wetter as he grinds against you. "Hyunjin, please...stop teasing me..." Your hands move to his waist, gripping tightly as you try to resist the pleasure building inside you. “About earlier.. Maybe I really should teach you a lesson in manners too, maybe a couple of spanks, don’t you think?’”, he repeats the sentence he said before you guys argued. “Wait what?! You wouldn’t dare do that…plus, that’s a childish thing.”
Hyunjin’s hand slides down to grip your thigh possessively, squeezing firmly. "Oh, I would dare, y/n. In fact, I intend to do much more than just spank you."
He leans in closer, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers huskily, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me for more. And trust me, I plan to take my time exploring every inch of your delectable body until you're nothing but a quivering mess beneath me."  “Hyunjin, stop talking like that...it's making me...ahh-" Your protest is cut off as he abruptly slaps your thigh, the sudden impact making you yelp. "Ow! What was that for?!" Hyunjin smirks at your pained expression, clearly amused by your reaction. "That was for your impudent mouth," he explains, his tone stern yet playful. "You shouldn't speak to me with such disrespect, especially when you're the one who's been fantasizing about me."
He flips you over that you’re now your back is facing him, especially your ass, without hesitation he gives another firm slap. "Now, are you going to apologize properly, or do I need to continue teaching you a lesson?"
“Ah~!”You moan, he spanks you the second time. “Fuck!.. fine you got me.. I’m sorry!”, He spanks you again, “ah~! Hyunjin!” which is making you dripping wet, feeling good from it. “Use ‘daddy’ instead of my name. Got it?” He takes off your shirt and then pulls down your pants and underwear, leaving you in just your bra. Hyunjin chuckles darkly at your submission, pleased by the way you're squirming under his touch. "Good girl, From now on, you address me as Daddy when we're alone together like this."
He trails his fingers along your hole, feeling the heat emanating from your core. "Mmm, seems like my little y/n is quite eager for more attention, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a response, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning at the tightness that grips them. "All that spanking got you turned on? Fuck.. wet already, You really are a naughty slut for Daddy's cock, aren't you?"
You moan loudly, bucking your hips against his fingers as he thrusts them in and out of you. "Ah! D-Daddy...fuck...yes...please..." Your words are a jumbled mix of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the sensations coursing through your body. As he curls his fingers inside you, rubbing against that sensitive spot within, your walls clench around him reflexively.
"More...Daddy...I need more..." You whine. His free hand snakes around to palm your breast, tweaking the nipple through the fabric of your bra. "And look how hard these tits get when Daddy plays with you.” Hyunjin then unclasps your bra, letting your breasts hang free. “You love it, don't you? Such a greedy little cunt, begging for more~” Your nipples harden further under his touch, and you arch into him, desperate for more stimulation. "Yes, Daddy...I love it...please...more..." You pant heavily, your hips rocking against his hand as he continues to finger you relentlessly. “Please fuck me.. I- I need your cock in me.. just like my fantasies in my diary..!” You whine again.
“Patience girl.. you don’t wanna upset me and make me not give it to you.. you don’t want that, hmm?” As you turn over and sit up to face him with a pleading look.
“N-no not at all, I’ll be patient daddy! I promise!”
“Hmm.. get on your knees and prove to me that you need this cock in you.” With trembling hands, you quickly comply, dropping to your knees in front of him. Your eyes lock onto his throbbing erection, and you lick your lips in anticipation. "Go ahead, baby," Hyunjin coaxes, stroking himself slowly. "Show Daddy how much you crave his cock."
Emboldened by his encouragement, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his dick, sucking gently. He lets out a low groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your mouth with each pass. "Mmm, that's it...good girl," Hyunjin praises, his hips starting to rock subtly, fucking your mouth. "You're doing so well, I think it's time Daddy gave you what you've been begging for..." 
“Yes please daddy! Rail me!” You say in excitement. 
"Get on the bed and present yourself to me, like the good little slut you are." He says as he walks over to your presented body. “Perfect. Now, hold still while I prepare myself," he instructs, reaching for the lube on the nightstand. “I see you had lube.. interesting..” He gets interrupted by your whine, “Please hurry, I need it inside..! Please!” Hyunjin grabs your hips roughly, positioning himself behind you. He presses the tip of his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts. "Beg for it, slut." he growls, holding back from fully entering you. "Tell me how badly you need Daddy's cock stretching out this tight little cunt."  
You plead desperately, wiggling your hips back against him in an attempt to impale yourself on his length. "I'm all yours, Daddy! Use me however you want!" Satisfied with your submissive display, Hyunjin grips your hips tighter and plunges deep inside you with one swift, powerful thrust. "Ungh, fuck...so tight," he groans, burying himself to the hilt. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with relentless force. The bed creaks beneath you as he fucks you hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping against your hole with each rough stroke. "Take it, you dirty little whore," he snarls, his breath hot against your ear. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be used and filled by Daddy's big cock?" 
"Ahh yes! Oh god, yes! Fill me up, Daddy! Use me!" You scream in ecstasy as he pounds into you mercilessly, your body shaking with each brutal thrust. Your inner walls clench tightly around his thick shaft, milking him greedily. "Harder! Faster! Break me with that huge cock!" Hyunjin's thrusts become even more savage, driven by your shameless begging. "You want it harder? Then take it, you insatiable slut!" He roars, slamming into you harshly. The room fills with the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by your high-pitched moans and his guttural grunts.
Suddenly, he reaches around to pinch and twist your nipples harshly, sending jolts of pain-tinged pleasure through your body. "Cum for me, now!" he commands, his voice a feral growl. "Show Daddy how much you love being fucked raw!" “Hyunie.. cum with me, please! Fuck! fuck..! Im gonna..” With a few more erratic thrusts, he buries himself to the root and explodes, flooding your insides with his hot seed. "Take it all, you filthy cumslut!" he snarls, pumping load after load deep into your spasming hole. 
Hyunjin collapses beside you, both of you panting heavily as you come down from the intense high of your shared climax. He pulls you close, spooning you from behind and nuzzling into your neck, “Wow.. you were amazing...” 
“Yeah.. uhm.. are you a fuckboy? Is this just one time and then that’s it?” He laughs, “Me? A fuckboy? when did you hear that joke!” You look at him confused, “W-What..? You’re not..? Wow, I guess I must’ve not believe everything I hear.” 
He leans to kiss you passionately, making you moan between it, after a moment he lets go panting a bit. “Was it really for homework or for me to use you?” “Well.. both. I don’t mind having you come over and help me~” 
“Oh trust me, I think I’ll come over many times, you’re now my girlfriend, y/n, and you better continue writing those fantasies.” 
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gege-wondering-around · 3 days ago
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The Emissary Deer
summary:
After whatever mess the world ended up in when werewolves became known to the human kind, both species split in civilization and tribes, both keeping the other away. Stiles wanted nothing more than to be in Derek's tribe after he had seen a black wolf in the woods once and he'd be more than capable to enter the alpha's pack by any means necessary, without much regard for what it would mean for his body, what aspects of his life would change because of it and what he would be leaving behind.
But the world was long gone, his heart was set and even more, so was Derek's, who wasn't going to deny either of them of their love.
Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski | Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale | Stiles Stilinski | Minor Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known | Werewolf Courting | Full Shift Werewolves | Blood and Gore | Character Death | not Sterek | Spark Stiles Stilinski | Emissary Stiles Stilinski | Rituals | Dark Nemeton (Teen Wolf) | Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski | Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski | Werewolf Mates | Magical Stiles Stilinski | Protective Derek Hale | Possessive Sex | Rough Sex | Possessive Behavior | Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship | well you'll see | Public Sex | Exhibitionism | Top Derek Hale | Bottom Stiles Stilinski | Lap Sex | Explicit Sexual Content | Body Horror | Wendigo mythology | Graphic Description | Gore | Magical Artifacts | Pack Alpha Derek Hale | Stiles Stilinski Has Powers | Wolf Derek Hale | Safe Sane and Consensual | based on the circumstances |Not Beta Read Language: English Status: Completed Word count: 10K
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
oh oh oh, i should probably go touch some grass after this given it wasnt scheduled anyhow and it just wrote itself to its own accord, but i did enjoyed this so i'll probably write more of this sort of 'genre' in the future, maybe mixed with some more complex (or actually existing from the principle) plots, either way, it was a fun ride and also one that was way out my comfort zone based on what i've written so far, so ig i'll see if y'all like it or not (either way, i really do)
and and and, @jadezdominion here goes another work, i hope to know what you think of it, while i also hope it might be interesting for @dontcallpanic, but still, i guess i'll wait to see what you'll think
anyway, thank you thank you thank you for supporting me along this writing journey and wish you a wonderful reading time!
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ludoka · 10 months ago
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So.... What would happen if SOMEONE decided to rewrite Freaky Fusion but eliminated the fusions, left the plot of the hybrids and the time travel plot?
Long text after the cut:
The fic would begin by introducing the hybrids and the students' reaction to them. Cleo and (I think it was her?) Draculaura would give the same comments as in the movie. But here the hybrids already established in the series would not be ignored. Lagoona would talk about how she herself is a hybrid. What's more, we could even add that she is the fruit of a freshwater Nymph and a sea monster.(I just made this up while writing. I have no idea if it's canon or not but I like it.) Your intervention in the conversation could leave the atmosphere a little tense. Frankie tries to lighten the mood by insisting her friends go to class.
In another part of the school, Deuce and Jackson are in the former's locker talking about the same topic. Or rather, Deuce is nervous and frustrated by how everyone is reacting to the hybrids. While Jackson doesn't care too much. He has already had his conflict with the students regarding what he is. You already know this is temporary until the novelty of the matter cools down. This resolution does not reassure the gorgon at all. In fact, it frustrates him enough to vocalize his concerns. The whole topic was really making him very uncomfortable. On a good day, he's already having trouble coping with the fact that he's a hybrid. This only makes you feel worse. To the point of being terrified that other monsters will know what he really is. Jackson tries to console him but the bell at the beginning of his first class forces them to cut the conversation short.
What they didn't know is that a certain gossiping ghost, who was collecting information for his blog, was listening to them.
The first class is Dead Languages ​​with Professor Rotter. Class is pretty boring today. Which causes some students to become distracted and murmur among themselves. Cleo is one of them and tries to talk to Deuce (who is more in the clouds than on earth)One of the topics he brings up is about hybrids, which he immediately realizes is the wrong topic to talk about. Since she sees how her boyfriend tenses very visibly. Which makes her remember that she's been on thin ice ever since she almost got her boyfriend's best friend killed just because of her pride. Said friends... It is also a hybrid. Cleo is seriously thinking about asking Frankie to sew her mouth shut so she doesn't screw up again. (I'm thinking about placing this after my own version of Ghoul Rules. I feel it is appropriate. It seems like he's been building up these nerves since before this day. It's more ✨ dramatic ✨)
The rest of the class passes without pain or glory. Only at the end does Rotter remind his students that in the last period of school they have to present their family tree work. (because I don't remember how the homework they were given in the movie was written)And he points out that Frankie will be the first to speak.
A stressed Deuce is the first to leave the classroom, closely followed by a worried Cleo. She is a couple of steps behind him. Thinking about how to talk about whatever is bothering the gorgon. Just when you think you've finally found the words, a mass notification from Spectra's blog catches your attention. She is about to ignore it but when she saw how the students began to stare in her direction, she decided to quickly check just in case. The title leaves her baffled. "Deuce Gorgon, the most handsome cool boy in school, is a hybrid?" That was the huge title that headed the blog. Cleo looks up with the mission of searching for answers but notices how terribly pale Deuce is while looking at his cell phone. She catches his attention. He looks at her scared. In fact, Deuce becomes hyper aware of his surroundings. He notices how everyone is looking at him and starting to whisper around him. This sends him into a spiral of panic and he ends up escaping the scene. It ends somewhere in the school, near the indoor pool. That's where Lagoona finds him. Deuce realizes that she is not alone. She is accompanied by Sirena von Boo and Neighthan Rot. When he asks about them, Lagoona tells him that she became friends with Sirena in their previous class. They saw him run out of the hallway and read the blog. Lagoona and Sirena went to look for him, they ran into Neightan and he joined the search. (mainly because Avea and Bonita were still in class)
This is where I cut the explanatory text and give the concise points of this particular plot:
The plot itself has the hybrids talking about feelings and experiences. Trying to help each other in all this sea of ​​rumors and staring. Mainly by comforting Deuce and letting him open up to them.
There would be some scene with Draculaura and Clawd talking about their relationship. The topic of vampire biology would be touched upon a little. How they age and mature slower than other deadly monsters.
I would also have Deuce and Cleo talking about this matter.
Also the reaction of the students, encouraged in a negative way by Toralei, towards Deuce and his "deception".
In general: Lots of feelings, heavy conversations and ✨drama✨
Now you will ask yourself: Where is the time travel plot in all this? Good. Let's go back to the moment of Rotter pointing at Frankie.
After watching the teacher leave the classroom, Frankie lies down on his table and writhes in his misery. Robecca and Ghoulia who were by her side comfort her and ask her what's wrong. She explains that she has nothing useful to expose. His parents avoided the topic of family too much and gave him nothing to work with. So you're probably going to fail the class. Invisibilly appears (because he is another gossiper) and comments that he also goes through the same thing. His father isn't the most talkative when it comes to whatever turned him into a monster. Billy has a suspicion that it was an experiment gone wrong but he has no idea. He believes his father is looking to take the secret to the grave. Here Jackson Jekyll joins the conversation. (because in this school the concept of "private conversation" does not exist) Jackson comments that if there is a family that loves to keep secrets, it is the Jekyll family. It was easier for him to help Heath by putting together the family tree of his elemental family, than it was for Holt to find SOMETHING about his mother's family. They know that their great-grandfather is the one who started the whole Hyde thing but they don't know anything else. Not even what year his grandfather was born or how his great-grandfather Henry Jekyll and his great-grandmother met. It all seems like a big secret that no one should know about.
As he listens to them complain, Robecca has an idea. His father, before he disappeared, was a lover of science in general. He lived many years collecting information, meeting other scientists and doing his own experiments. She suggests they look for something in her father's workshop. Hopefully, they can find something regarding the Stein or Jekyll family. (Robecca apologizes to Billy for not being able to find a solution to his problem but he rejects her. He doesn't care much) Ghoulia was going to say something regarding work but after watching Deuce and Cleo leave the room, she decided that it was easier to help this group with their homework.
This is how Robecca, Frankie, Ghoulia, Billy and Jackson go to the Hexiciah Steam workshop.
While there, they don't find much. At least until Billy stumbles upon plans for a time machine. This draws the attention of the rest. Robecca takes a look at the plans and searches the workshop if there is something similar there. And, indeed, it was a large machine that was in the middle of the room. As they examine the machine, Billy comments that it would be great to test if the thing works and use it to do his homework. That makes them pause and contemplate the idea. The first to be against it is Ghoulia. She doesn't think it's very smart to mess with the timeline just for a school project. Frankie and Jackson support her. But Jackson also comments on how MAYBE if they didn't interact with anyone and were just there to watch, they wouldn't actually be doing anything. It also suggests it could be a good thing for Robecca. After all, it's the most direct way he can find clues to his father's whereabouts. This raises the robot's hopes. Ghoulia is still against it but after seeing her friends' hopeful looks, she decides that MAYBE it's not such a bad idea. As long as the necessary measures are taken. The girls and boys celebrate this beforehand and look for anything about the operation of the machine. They discover that for the machine to work and there to be a way to return, someone needs to be in the current era. Monitoring travelers through bracelets that serve as trackers and controls that allow them to travel by time and place. Ghoulia and Jackson note that there is a very specific way these bracelets work but decide to find out later. Since this was just a round trip to see if the machine worked in the first place. So with everything prepared Robecca, Frankie, Jackson and Billy get ready for the test trip. Ghoulia gives them the go-ahead and turns on the machine. The quartet enters the machine and goes to a year not too distant, just to try it out. More specifically 1950's New Salem.
In fact, the machine works! After watching a bit, the four try to go back to their time to tell the zombie. But can not. No matter how hard they try, the bracelets don't send them back to their time. In reality, it sends them randomly to other places and times. They panic a little (A LOT).
Currently, Ghoulia is worse. The disused machine was broken enough that it had imperfections that none of them noticed. So now the machine was causing fluctuations in time itself. Making time go slower or faster randomly. This is also causing beasts and animals from different places and times to appear today. Not to mention that, for some reason, his friends can't come back. So it's up to Ghoulia Yelps to fix the time machine, prevent the timeline from being destroyed, send the beasts and animals where they belong, and bring his friends back. It's... A pretty normal Monday, if Ghoulia is allowed to comment.
So this subplot has:
Jackson, Robecca, Billy and Frankie traveling through time. Uncovering family secrets and finding clues to the whereabouts of Hexiciah Steam.
To them trying to survive times that they only read about in books, saw in movies or paintings.
And Ghoulia saving the day behind the scenes.
Yes... A standard Monday.
If you made it this far, thanks for reading. I hope you have a happy new year and I wish you the best of luck in meeting your new year goals. 🎆❤️✨🎆
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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago
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Kiss their cheek
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 220-650 for each character
Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law, Kid
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Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?
Notes: I have hit a follower milestone and I am freaking out about it. I don't normally post about the follower count, but this is simply too incredible to not mark the occasion for. To distract myself from the sheer number of you that found my writing good enough to follow, I have a little drabble for you to enjoy for my favorites. To quote the goodest and bestest boy there ever was: “Thank you for loving me.” I love you all too. All 1,200+ of you.
Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, monster trio, supernova trio, crewmate!reader, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, A little OOC while I'm still learning about a couple of the blorbos.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun
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Blackleg Sanji
“Dinner was beautiful as always, Sanji,” you cooed at him, swooping forward and collecting his smooth cheek beneath your lips in a small kiss, “Well done, Chef.” Holding his cheek in contact with your lips for a few moments longer before pulling away with a broad smile. 
“You’re most welcome, love,” he returned your affectionate demonstration, his lips finding your cheek and grazing your flesh with his lips. 
Both of you reacted as if this touch was not uncommon, not something out of the ordinary in the slightest. This was the first time you had given him this small gesture, demonstrating your appreciation for his hard work with something as simple as a small kiss. 
The fact that this kiss was so freely given to him had Sanji’s heart catch in his throat, his pulse rapidly beating and elevating the flow of his adrenaline through his veins. His family of origin comes from a culture that kisses on the cheeks to greet and farewell friends, acquaintances and even enemies. Why did this kiss feel so perfect against his skin? 
He would do anything to feel your lips on him again, often giving you preferential treatment in the hopes your lips would find his skin once more. Should he gather up the courage to turn his head, claiming your lips within his own, would you turn away? He hoped you wouldn’t. 
Roronoa Zoro
His mind could not comprehend the moment that just befell him. 
It was a simple night of comradery and relaxation. The air felt alight with joyful merriment: Brook playing music, Sanji ensuring each of you had an adequate meal. It felt light: nothing plaguing, hunting, seeking, nor fighting. It was simple, and that is what it felt. 
It being a simple and small kiss against his right cheek.
“You are an excellent first-mate, Zoro,” you laughed up at him, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “A noble knight and fearless protector.”
Zoro’s head couldn’t produce a single thought to form a string of a sentence. He had not felt this way, the ignition of a small swell of passion to not involve swordsmanship, ever before. 
In all the realms of intimacy and subtle touches, Zoro was inexperienced in receiving and reciprocating. Zoro was, for lack of a better word, a virgin to such an expression of unbridled affection. 
“Th-Thanks, I guess?” he grunted, his brows arching at you. You giggled, patting him on the shoulder and offering him a warm smile. 
“You’re welcome, soldier,” you cooed up at him before turning on your heel, following the gentle rise in rhythm with your hips, dancing along to Brook’s playing. He followed your movement with a keen eye, more enthusiastic about your gentle sway and soft laughter than he was moments prior. 
Monkey D Luffy
“Oh, Captain!” you smiled at him, hooking your arm over his shoulder and drawing him close to your face, “Your cheeks are so cute. I could just-,” you halted your words, lunging forward and peppering his tanned cheeks with several fluttered kisses, humming throughout each press. 
“Oi, oi, Docinho,” he chuckled, swatting at your hands and writhing within your arms, “Stop that. I am a hardened criminal. I am a captain! You’re not meant to think I’m cute, you’re meant to dote on me and offer me tribute of your loyalty!” You giggled, allowing him to swipe your body away from his. 
His eyes darted away from yours, his lips curved in a soft pout with his brows furrowing in a deep frown. For a moment, you thought you truly offended him by your lips finding his skin. Your eyes widened, your hands shaking defensively to desperately retract your affectionate touch.
“I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to-,” you were silenced by several inexperienced kisses littering your cheeks, nose and forehead. The cheeky chuckle that followed each of the small pecks only prompted your mind to chase your heart with its rapidity. He placed his hands over your shoulders, laughing whole-heartedly at your frazzlement. 
“If this is the way you’re offering me tribute as a wonderful captain,” he hummed thoughtfully, “Perhaps I’m not so bad at the job after all.” 
Trafalgar D Water-Law
“You work too hard,” you sigh against his cheek, pulling away from his cool flesh and raking your eyes over his face, “You deserve to take a break some time.” You watched the small hue of pink rise to dust over his cheeks, his hair at the nape of his neck standing alert and rigid. 
Unsure what exactly prompted you to seek out your captain’s cheek with your lips, you were regretting the small brush of your lips over his smooth skin the instant you drew yourself away. Watching as Law inhaled a deep breath through his nose, he exhaled a lengthy breath through his lips: following the small gesture with a soft hum. 
“Just know that you’re appreciated, Sir,” you reiterated your stance, ensuring you held your eyes against his to reinforce your seriousness, “I-... We appreciate you, Captain. We love you, and want to help you achieve your goals. Just-... Just know that, okay?” 
Yellow eyes followed your exit, watching every step that you took and hearing the hollow floor ricochet the reverberating tap of your boot heel. His haunted gaze held firm to your retreat, silence growing heavy at the closure of his office door. 
He could not stop thinking about the kiss all day. The way your lips felt against his cheek, the way he felt the small elevation of your smile - the way his heart swelled in his chest, and the way his breath caught in his throat. He wanted to know what it meant. He needed to know if you were being friendly and supportive, or if you wanted more. 
Lips over his cheek, the catching over the words “I appreciate you” with your reassurances that he is loved and worthy of devotion, inhibited him from welcoming slumber for several days. In the hopes of providing him encouragement and loyalty to soothe his rapidly sporadic mind, you aided in him in only finding restlessness. 
Growling at his own racing emotions, he hastily drew up the transponder snail and dialed your personal shell. He awaited the annoying hum, the crackle of the receiver halting as you picked up the call. 
“C-Captain?” your groggy voice called over the snail, “Cap, it’s nearly five in the morning. I clocked off the overnight shift and only just got to sleep-.”
“-Do you love me?” he quickly spurted the words before he could stop them. 
Your mind did not have the capacity to mask your words, given your groggy sleep deprivation. Yawning your answer into the transponder, Law’s heart raced at hearing your words.
“Of course I love you. We all love you,” you confirmed, rolling your neck and taking a moment to collect yourself, “You’re my captain. I pledged my allegiance to follow you, sir. What are you calling me at-?”
“-No,” Law’s voice crackled over the receiver, his tone immediately waking you of your prior tired state, “I need to know what it meant. I need to know what it meant. Why did you kiss me?”
“What?” you began, shaking your head and brows beginning to knit in confusion, “I don’t understand what you’re-.”
“-Why would you kiss me knowing your lips would haunt me? Knowing that that kiss you gave would scorch and mark my heart?” his voice rose as his temper boiled over the edge. “You know I closed myself off to this bullshit. You know what giving me a small amount of your affection would do to me. Why would you-?”
“-Because I love you, Law,” you uttered in a low voice. You flung your legs over the bed, feet finding your sleep shoes beneath your mattress. Your confession hung heavy in the air, your heart and mind fully awake and comprehending your every waking minute. Silence was heavy and swollen with tension, your mind racing over all the possible retorts Law could throw at you. 
Dismissal, execution, exile, abandonment: these were the responses you deduced to be the most appropriate response. In its stead, you were greeted with a small huffed chuckle and a low rumbled retort.
“Come to my office,” he hummed into the receiver, “Show me more. I-I-...” the transponder crackled as Law found his words, “...-I need more.”
Eustass Kid
“In some cultures, it’s seen as a sign of respect,” you nodded your head, bowing your down to him, “It’s an extension of submission and admission to serve beneath a mighty ruler. Hands are the most common to touch, but kissing a cheek is the most intimate expression of-.”
“-Fine, you can kiss me,” the gruff rumble of Eustass Kid’s voice dismissively crackled. He rolled his eyes, turning his cheek away from you to hide the bite of his lip to stifle his rising blush. 
Affectionate touches was not something Kid, nor his crew, were very experienced in receiving. When he offered you the chance of joining his crew to achieve his goals, Eustass Kid did not expect you to dote and coddle each of his crewmen into submission beneath your affectionate touches. As the last member of his crew to be a recipient of your gentle touch, he truly did not comprehend why his heart was beating with anxious rapidity. 
“Only if you’re sure-,” you began, halted by a harsh bark from your captain.
“-I said it was fine, didn’t I?” his gruff voice cut through the air. While his head was still turned from you, he stretched out his right hand to await a small touch from your lips. 
But his cheek was right there. You couldn’t help but spring at the opportunity to rise up to Eustass Kid’s seated position on the wooden bench aboard the deck. He was ripe for doting and peppering a flurry of kisses all over his face, but you held yourself back from such an expression of unbridled affection. You opted to start slow.
Gently touching his shoulders, you stooped down and pressed a sweet and intentional kiss atop the apple of his cheek. You felt his breath catch in his throat, an unintentional whimper halting in his nose at the soft expression of your admiration.
As you pulled away from him, your upper left arm was caught by the wide and firm grasp of the captain of the Victoria-Punk. His face was still turned away from you, but the crimson hue of his pale face gave away the elevation of his heartbeat. 
“I’m sorry, Captain. I should’ve just gone for the hand-,” you began, attempting to tug away from his grip and apologize properly to him. 
“C-Can I-...” he grunted out a gruff cough, continuing to hold his face away from yours, “...Can I have another one?”
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satuguro · 2 years ago
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⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION
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lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader
#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.
#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff
#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx
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your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.
you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.
which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).
"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.
"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.
"i gave up."
"you need to study."
"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.
"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.
"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.
"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.
your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."
ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.
"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.
"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"
"just now? instead of studying?"
"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).
"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"
you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.
it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.
you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.
"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.
"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"
chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."
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you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.
you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.
but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.
three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.
"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"
"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"
"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."
you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."
"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."
"i'm not gonna be that drunk."
that was a lie.
to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.
"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.
"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.
"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"
the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"
"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.
"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"
when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.
jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.
chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.
"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.
"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."
"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.
and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.
"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.
"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.
but nothing came out.
“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.
“do i have to?”
“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”
“i don’t want to.”
“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.
“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”
“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”
“are you sure?”
“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”
“maybe.”
“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”
“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.
ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.
“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.
“can i make a joke?”
“of course you can.”
“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”
“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.
ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.
you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.
he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.
"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”
and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.
the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"
"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."
"liar."
"i'm not!"
"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"
ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.
"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."
ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.
"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,” ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.
“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”
confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.
“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”
“ethan—”
“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”
“i love you.”
“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.
“i love you, ethan.”
a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.
“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.
“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”
“do you think i care?”
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5K notes · View notes
fbfh · 1 year ago
Text
makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
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Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
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fatuismooches · 2 years ago
Note
Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.
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Pierro:
About You - His Lover:
“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”
Chat - Walks:
“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”
About Your Patience:
“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”
Something To Share - Meals:
“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”
About You - A Second Home:
“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”
Capitano:
About You - His Lover:
“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.
Chat - Souvenirs:
“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”
A Special Item - The Kamera:
“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”
Something To Share - Smiles:
“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”
About You - Reminiscing:
“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”
“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”
Columbina:
About You - Her Lover:
“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”
Chat - Naps:
“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”
“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”
Secret Hobby - Poems About You:
“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,
Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.
Sweet lips that I want to savor,
Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.
Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”
Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:
“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”
Dottore:
About You - His Lover:
“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”
“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”
“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”
“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”
About You And The Segments:
“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”
“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”
“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”
About You - Whereabouts:
"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."
About You - Health Concerns:
“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”
“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”
“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”
When The Sun Is Out:
“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”
“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”
“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”
“Hey, how rude!!”
Pulcinella:
About You - Relationship:
“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”
Stories To Tell:
“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”
Chat - New Things:
“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”
About You - Baking:
“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”
About You - Family:
“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”
Scaramouche:
About You - His Lover:
“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”
“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”
“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.” 
A Little Secret:
“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”
Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:
“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”
When It Rains:
“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”
About Beelzebul:
“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”
Arlecchino:
About You - Her Lover:
“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”
When It’s Sunny:
“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”
Something To Share - Quietly Loving:
“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”
Chat - Coffee:
“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”
“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”
“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”
“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”
About You - The Orphanage:
“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”
La Signora:
About You - Her Lover:
“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”
When It’s Windy:
“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”
About You - Letters:
“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”
“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”
“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”
“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”
“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”
Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:
“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”
Pantalone:
About You - His Lover:
“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”
Worries - Financial Concerns:
“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”
About You - First Meeting:
“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”
When It’s Cold:
“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”
Sandrone:
About You - Her Lover:
“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”
When It’s Raining:
“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”
“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”
“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”
“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”
Inspiration - New Creations:
“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”
The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:
“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.” 
Childe:
About You - His Lover:
“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”
About You - First Meeting:
“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”
When It Snows:
“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…
About You - Whereabouts:
"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”
About You - Safety:
“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”
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thegreatstoryteller · 4 months ago
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The Great Shift: Turning 30
The Great shift was a huge time in many people’s lives. Especially those with birthdays who fell around the time of the great shift. Some turning 18, others turning 80! But still others had their hearts set on a time in their life that was quite pivotal. However, because of the shift some may have to wait a little longer to reach that milestone, while others have jumped leaps and bounds beyond it!
Harvey Singh (30 years old)
Fuuuck my head… and my clothes apparently. Damn. This is not what I imagined turning 30 would be like! 
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Before the world went insane, I was so close! The damn great shift just had to happen right before my birthday. I was working at this law firm, a pretty shady place at first. Lots of scummy people taking advantage of others, but my boss was trying to turn it around! We kicked out those idiots who were causing trouble, got them arrested! I was gonna get promoted and help lead the charge for helping others… but not anymore.
The great shift landed me inside of Skyler Marlo! 18 year old quarterback for the local university. And right after a big party too. I couldn’t find a stitch of clothes to fit my new larger body. I was really lucky this frat house I woke up in had a towel nearby. But that was just the beginning of my nightmare. 
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You see that smile of distress? Yeah that’s me. Instead of writing briefs and taking on clients in need, I’m here on the football field. Apparently after the upheaval the shift caused people are having trouble verifying identities and gaining access to their property/funds. That’s totally something I could be helping with! Instead I'm stuck back in the life of a teenager again. I wasn't a big fan of 18 last time I was in college.
The only thing that could get me after the shift was taking on this guy’s college scholarship. It gives me a place to stay and access to their college library, but I had to join the college football team. Some organizations like college athletics don’t seem to care who is shifted or not! As long as they got the players they need to draw in a crowd, they seemed perfectly content letting anyone play. Though who can blame them. If they saw me before I doubt they’d want some angry short king running their drills. No… now I’m not the 5’0 Indian guy who got overlooked in school. I look the picture of boy next door prom king that rules the college. 6’2, 195lbs of lean muscle, and size 15 feet. That last one took awhile to get used to! Finding cleats that size was the hardest part of this change. 
So here I am, sweating it out day after day to maintain my scholarship, while I wait for the day I’m recertified with my state’s bar! Once I’m a lawyer again I swear I’ll help out others like me forced to cling on to new lives while the system sorts things out. It sucks having to practice every day and do all these drills and grunt work! The college even has me posing for their promotional material to draw in bigger crowds at the game! Who would want this kind of life?!
Then again… it’s already been a few months… I may as well get used to college life… I was a nerdy brown kid my last run in college, mostly studying and doing what my parents wanted… now at least I can get a look at how the athletes lived… That frat did ask me if I wanted to join… I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun while I wait to get my life back.
After all, I do get pretty excited after an intense practice, and judging by some of the looks from my teammates, I may not be the only one eager to get to know my new body better. 
Phil Inver (30 years old)
People need to learn how to relax. I don’t know what the big deal is. So a bunch of people swapped bodies. What’s there to worry about? See me? I don’t have a care in the world. When I was turning 30 doctors told me I was overweight and at risk of diabetes, my work would always be on me for not applying myself, and my girlfriend said I was always too lazy in our relationship! 
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But my mindset since the shift hasn’t changed! It landed me in this nice smooth and lean body! I’m glad that this guy kept in such good shape. Having actual abs is insane! Same for these toned arms! I’m not sure if he’s the shaving kinda guy or if he’s naturally smooth, but it sure as hell beats taking care of an unruly beard and body hair!
Turns out now that I look like this people are a bit more receptive to my ideals! Doctors say my heart is as healthy as a horse! Says my stress free lifestyle is a large part of that! My work? They now say my chill attitude makes things a lot more zen around the office. Guess they don’t care I don’t get too much done whenever I flash them a smile. And my girlfriend… or my boyfriend as he goes by now, certainly thinks I’m taking an active role in the bedroom. Who knew that my new stud of a boyfriend had a thing for Asian guys!?
So what am I gonna do now? Listen to music, chill as my boyfriend showers, and wait out the day as normal. Sure I’m turning 30, but it’s just another day in paradise for me! Oh what’s that? This body is only 21? Even better! I’ve got plenty of time to relax before I turn 30.
Devon Lin (30 years old)
So I was a bit nervous about turning 30. I feel like I haven’t really done all the things I wanted… and all my friends were joking saying it’s all downhill after that. I wasn’t dealing the best with the stress… Well like it or not the shift had me face that hurdle a few year further than I expected.
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And I gotta say. It’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Sure I’m a bit older, but hell  I look a hell of a lot more manly! Could it be that the shift landed me in a handsome 37 year old with a built body, tan skin,  and perfect beard? Maybe… but hey. Age is just a mindset… but these muscles sure aren’t! Boom!
You like that? So do the guys at the bar! They keep insisting I don’t shave my chest or pit hair too. I think I could pull off that look. That being said, I think anything looks good on a 6’5 stud like me. Tall, dark, and handsome all the way!
Before I would jump around from job to job. Bartender, janitor, waiter, and housekeeper, but lately I’ve found my job as a bouncer at the local bar a lot more rewarding. You’d be surprised how many fights stop once I take my shirt off and start playing pool with the patrons. I’ve won nearly every game of billiards I’ve played! Though I have the sneaking suspicion it may be due to the guys staring more at me than the balls.
Guess that’s one of the benefits to working at a chill gay bar! You know, I was always a bit insecure about my body and experimenting sexually. Being a shorter gay man with a chip on his shoulder would do that to you. Now… well let’s just say now I feel like I’ve got a lot more confidence! I may have missed my 30th birthday, but I think I know how I’m gonna spend my 38th!
Marcus Garcia (30 years old)
They say when you get older you begin to value things differently. Honestly I didn’t know what to expect when I turned 30. Was I supposed to be wiser all of a sudden? Have a plan for things? In truth plenty of people younger than me had their life together compared to me. Partners. Kids. A stable job. A house.
In short. I thought I had more time. But we don’t always get to choose how fast life comes at us. I mean look at me. Didn’t expect the shift to make me 55.
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Losing 25 years of my life was definitely not the easiest. The great shift nearly tears the world apart and I’m running for my life looking like retirement is right around the corner. That first day was definitely a wake up call that I did not have the same stamina that I used to. In that opening week of the shift I was pretty much running on adrenaline and coffee wherever I could get it. I took lots of naps just to stay sane. 
As the days went on and society slowly readjusted to some version of normal, I began to actually have time to look at my body. I mean I was a pretty skinny guy before, my sister would always say I needed to workout more. But I guess all it took was 25 years of my life to finally get in shape. 
Not only that, but I’m admiring the body hair. This guy was a pretty hairy dude. The salt and pepper stubble had guys starting me daddy at the gay bars, while the chest hair was still dark like my eyebrows and made my impressive physique pop. 
My feet were pretty big too. Size 14! Twice as big as my old feet, but just as hard to find shoes my size. 
Needless to say there were highs and lows to my new life. Was I happy that i was 6’6 now? Sure! Loved being tall and nearly bonking my head on doorframes. Was I upset lots of my joints were sore and that I could only take my coffee black to avoid dairy and sugar? No… that sucked. I liked my sweet drinks and I missed not waking up in pain.
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Omar LeRon was a guy that lived along my street. He was a single dad raising his 5 year old, all at the age of 45.
I later learned he had a few wild days in his early 40s that lead to Omar Jr. And now in his mid 20s again he’s glad he could be more present for his son! Even if his son is the same age as him now.
He told me all of this one day when we both left our house for a jog. He found that doing some running in his new body helped him vent some much needed energy from his body, while I needed to do something physical if I was to have any hope of maintaining healthy workout routines for mine! 
Needles to say he offered some words of wisdom growing up and it really helped put some things in perspective. Meanwhile, I gave him some tips about helping his son. Turns out all those years working at my aunt’s day care counted for something, even for post shifted kids!
Our conversations started as friendly advice and then grew into more! Talks became dates. Dates became moving in. Moving in became an engagement! Now a few years after the wedding I guess you truly can call me a daddy now. Jr. sure does. He’s doing great in school and is looking forward to next week when my sister is gonna watch him for the summer.
My husband and I are gonna take our first real vacation since the great shift! We’re looking forward to it! We’ll be celebrating Omar’s 30th birthday in his new body now! He keeps making jokes saying, “Well I’ve done it before. Nothing to it the second time around.” And “Well here I thought your 30th birthday was extreme. I doubt I could top that”
He also never stops teasing me about how he loves being married to an older man and that I’m not as young as I used to be. We know it’s all in good fun. I mean, I can still keep up with him in the bedroom, where it counts… as long as he gives me a few minutes to recover after. Young guys like him are insatiable. I’ll try to power through though. After all, you only turn “30” once.
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u3pxx · 10 months ago
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💛🕊️ Five times Aziraphale gave Crowley a gift plus one time Crowley gave a gift in return.
DID YOU KNOW THAT @contritecactite, once again, wrote a VERY GOOD fic about my bad omens spouses??? and it's so wonderfully GOOD???!?!?!!
anywhooo, a very big special thanks again to elle for writing this! it's been just a real treat talking to them and the klapollomb gomens s2 support group about bad omens 🥺 i'm really, really thankful that y'all decided to indulge me and my freakingg swap au wheezes <33
i'm gonna cut myself off here and ramble more under keep reading :0]
like these drawings? they're prints, here! | like what i do? support me on ko-fi!
seeing this get written was an experience! one of the things keeping me alive during prelim exams LOL if i remember correctly, this kind of started bc i was curious if bomens zira would actually have, i guess, a real demon equivalent the way shax (stork), beelzebub (fly), and furfur (deer) do. so i looked up the words 'crow demon' and whaddya know!
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a crow demon!! and what's that? "cause Love"?
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what a perfect fit for demon!aziraphale! and really, i was only messing around the first time i had the idea of "haha lol wouldn't it be funny if demon aziraphale was a crow", and then bam! all of it started to, surprisingly, fit well together pfttt (special thanks to bepo for being the one to piece it all together wheezes <33) (also, just really thank you all for bouncing ideas with me, it really does make me happy dfgdhjd <3333)
and then elle wrote a little snippet at first (IIRC) and then he just feakign!!!!!!! WOAGH!!!!!!! just, tasty delicious words, a fic that made me kick my feet like i was a schoolgirl while reading the whole thing ASKSKS <333
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i'm really happy with all the spot art i drew for this! wanted it to look very uhhh, i wouldn't say storybook, but watercolor illustrations were definitely a huge inspiration! i wanted them to feel as nice and cozy as YOU would feel while reading elle's fic <3
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i do gotta thank elle again for making these two fem-presenting when they were at the dowlings' bc then i get to draw butch gardener crowley. do you know how much that means to me? do you know do you do y do you know how m how much that how m b butches butches butches .
and a little bonus, one where crowley did not want to pose for the painting PFTT
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i am once again putting the link here if you've scrolled this far down without reading it yet, go! go! go!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!!! <3333
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fallstaticexit · 2 months ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3
Transcript under the cut
Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?
Nancy: I never really liked crowds.
Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.
Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.
Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.
Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.
Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.
Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.
Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!
Nancy: Hello Mother.
Queenie: Nancy.
Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?
Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.
Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.
Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?
Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?
Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.
Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.
Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!
Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.
Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.
Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.
Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.
Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-
Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.
Nancy: Nathan was your student?
Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.
Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.
Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?
Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!
Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?
Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.
Nancy: What about your husband?
Professor Munch: Husband?
Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.
Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?
Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.
Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.
Nancy: [sobs quietly]
Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?
Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?
Nancy: [nods once]
Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.
Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]
Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.
Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.
Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.
Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!
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space-mango-company · 7 months ago
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Stranger | Chapter 5
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism
Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.
Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.
ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.
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You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.
"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."
"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."
You stare at him indifferently.
"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."
You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"
He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."
"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.
"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."
You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.
Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"
You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."
His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.
"What?" you call after him.
"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."
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You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.
You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.
You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.
"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.
"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.
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There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.
"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.
"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"
"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."
"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."
"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.
"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.
"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."
Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."
You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."
You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.
Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.
Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.
Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.
You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.
The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.
Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.
When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.
"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.
You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.
When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.
Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.
A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.
Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"
You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.
"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.
You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.
"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.
"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."
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You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.
After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."
She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.
In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.
He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.
When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?
When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.
You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.
You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron
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378 notes · View notes
feasibilities · 7 months ago
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"Perhaps you should have some, clear your head."
Investigative Reports | Jonathan Crane x Journalist!Reader
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Warnings: Non-Con, Drugging, Kidnapping, Dumbification, Bondage, Corruption, Pet Names, Hallucinations, Cockwarming, etc. Author's Note: I finally got around to writing this! This insane post got a lot of hilarious/supportive reactions, so thank you. I hope it really is The Most Disgraceful Fanfiction Ever Made.
“Would you like to see our treatment facility?” Jonathan inquired, smiling faintly.
“Of course. Where is it located?” You said, looking around curiously. 
“The elevator will take us there.” Jonathan replied, guiding you inside. You wondered why he was so eager to show you this “facility”, but it would be good for your article on Arkham Asylum. You also noticed that his hand lingered on your lower back. You made a mental note of the floor being accessible by key only. The door opened to a poorly lit corridor with double doors at the toward the back. A sinking feeling in crept into your gut but you followed behind him anyway. He opened the doors to an underground sweatshop. You saw the faces of some of the criminals who mysteriously avoided being prosecuted. 
“This is where we make the medicine.” Jonathan said. You quickly realized this was a trap. Why would he be willing to show you this if he would let you leave? A feeling of panic clawed at your internal organs but you stayed perfectly still.
“Perhaps you should have some, clear your head...” He said in a restrained tone, swallowing harshly. His icy disposition transformed into that of a monster. You ran for the elevator and frantically pressed the buttons. The doors never closed. You scurried out and ran down the hallway. You ducked into one of the empty holding cells. You saw a white bed with restraints. You hid in the corner behind it and held your breath. Tears rolled down your face as you blamed yourself for taking on this story. 
“Ready or not, here I come.” A ragged, disorienting voice spoke. Your heart dropped as the voice was a complete contrast from the composed one you heard minutes ago. You covered your mouth to muffle any sobs. You heard his footsteps click down the corridor before they stopped in front of the cell you were in. You crouched to make yourself as small as possible. You saw a figure with a burlap mask over his head. 
“Hmm, I wonder where she could’ve run off to.” Jonathan said sarcastically, knowing exactly where you were. Walking to your hiding spot, he stood over you. 
“There you are, princess.” He cooed. He kneeled down and wiped your tears with his thumb. You cringed at his touch and tried to scoot away. He pulled you back and put a white cloth over your mouth and nose. Your struggling was useless. Blackness crept into your vision as you lost consciousness. 
——
You woke up to an unfamiliar bedroom and a throbbing headache. This room was quite different from the dilapidated cell you fell asleep in. You didn’t recognize the pink silk nightie you had on. You were tucked in perfectly as well. You had little to no memory of the night before. Jonathan came in and shut the door behind him. Checking his watch, he smiled to himself. 
“Just in time.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“What happened? My head is killing me.” You inquired, sitting up slightly. 
“You had a fall and hit your head. I know how to make you feel better.” He said softly, pulling the comforter from your body. His smooth hands ran up your thighs. 
“I-I don’t think this will help.” You hesitated. 
“Of course it will.” Jonathan replied. You pushed his hands away and tried to cover yourself once more. 
“I guess I’ll have to tie you up, darling.” He relented, retrieving rope from the nightstand. He removed your nightie and folded it neatly. He tied you in the Shibari style of the Star Harness with your arms bound. He covered your mouth with duct tape. He pulled you to the edge of the bed and bent you over. You cried desperately in hopes that he would stop. 
“Shh. The more you struggle, the longer it lasts.” He hushed you, kissing the back of your head. He took in the sweet smell of your hair. You felt him slide into you slowly, whimpering at his size. His thrusts were slow but deep to the point of causing pain. Your knees buckled with each thrust. 
“Already falling apart, hmm? Isn’t that sweet...” Jonathan purred, speeding up. You looked back at him with teary eyes. Jonathan kissed you over the duct tape on your mouth. Sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room. You clenched around him frenetically, earning cruel spanks from him. His glacial blue eyes bore into yours. A searing pain managed to reach your cervix as his movements grew careless.  The rope he adorned you in began to scrape painfully against your skin. 
“Want me to stop?” He teased. You nodded frantically. He pulled the tape off your mouth painfully. 
“Please, sir.” You begged innocently, beginning to cry once more. 
“Of course, my love.” He whispered, pulling out. He groaned at the sight of your arousal dripping down your legs. He took out a polaroid camera and snapped some pictures of you from behind. You turned away until he violently flipped you over. He put his middle & index fingers in your mouth. 
“Smile, sweet pea.” He mocked, snapping one final picture. Setting the camera aside, he stared down at you with an esurient gaze. You shifted uncomfortably as you were still tied up. His fingertips grazed the tender burgeon of your nipple. Enjoying the sensation, you pushed your chest up into his hand. You mewled sweetly and batted your eyes. 
“Don’t do that…” Jonathan said, barely holding it together. 
“I can’t help it.” You whined, oblivious to his impending breakdown. He was fuming at the effect you had on him. 
“Right.” Jonathan said, standing up and opening a drawer nearby. He grabbed a burlap mask and held it up for you to see. 
“Remember this, hun?” He inquired, taking off his glasses.
“No, what is it?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows. 
Sliding it over his head, you froze in fear. You realized he was the man of your never-ending nightmares. You suddenly saw hallucinations of maggots and spiders crawling from the eye & mouth holes of his mask. The world around you started to spin nauseatingly. You closed your eyes tightly hoping it would all end quickly.
“I knew you would remember me, angel.” He said, speaking in the same ragged voice. He walked to you and untied the rope around your body. He began spreading your legs once more. You scratched, punched, and bit him to no avail. In actuality, your resistance was much weaker than you thought. The sedative he gave you drained you of any kind of physical strength. 
“Help!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, hoping anyone could hear. Jonathan put a firm hand over your mouth and entered you once more. This time, his pace was sadistic and blistering. The headboard banged against the wall. You felt your bones shake with every motion. You screamed behind his hand until you had no voice to scream with. That familiar band of pleasure in your lower half finally broke. Your body convulsed wildly. He enjoyed seeing you unravel. 
“Almost done, stay still.” He sneered, continuing his assault. Your mind was nearly blank from everything that was happening. Jonathan moved his hand from your mouth to your throat as he was getting close. Your fucked-out expression made his heart flutter. Suddenly, hot spurts of seed shot into you. His groans echoed through the bedroom. You felt some relief that it was over. Instead, he laid next to you and slid back in hastily. He wrapped his arms around you to keep you still. Your shaky hand clawed at them. A doused white cloth smothered you once more as you lost consciousness.
“Sweet dreams.” He whispered, holding you close. 
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silentmoths · 5 months ago
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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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3cremepie3 · 4 months ago
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Airhead pt. 1
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Synopsis - Riddle Rosehearts x fem reader. Y/n is an idiot and needs help with studying from Riddle! She wants to pay back his kindness in the only way she know how.
Warnings - innocent riddle, lose of innocence, graphic mentions of head lol, premarital sex, cursing, spit, roughness, slutty y/n, bimbo y/n
A/n - I was supposed to start this series so long ago but I got caught up in request. I found this so fun to write and I will be continuing it!
“Hey riddle,” you exclaimed. You pulled him in for a big hug he deserved it for being so generous. He was helping you study for free! “There’s no need for that.” His words were harsh but his smile said otherwise. Whatever you let him go and plopped down on his bed.
“Wow, it’s so soft I can lay here forever.” You will not now up at once,” he demanded. “In order to get optimal study results students sit at desks. I have a perfectly organized one here.” You sighed getting up to sit at his desk. The chair was cool against your ass cheeks that hung out your dress.
It was uncomfortable and for some reason forced you to sit up. “Now let us begin I have tea time to attend to and I’ll leave you for independent study time then.” Okay,” you accepted. The session didn’t even start yet and you were bored. "Yawning already? Did you not get a good night's rest?"
"No, I stayed up all night waiting on a flash sale." Well, that was idiotic,' He claimed. "When your dorm has no AC you make do with what you can get, look isn't it cute."
"My god," Riddle gasped. "Isn't that lingerie women wear that for their husbands and as far as I know you aren't married." You erupted into a fit of giggles. God, he was over dramatic! “Riddle you're too innocent for your own good," you laughed. "I'm just wearing it to bed what's the harm in that?"
"You're right." He cleared his throat and stepped away to grab a hefty text book. "Hand me your phone there must be no distractions." You were hesitant but handed it over. Riddle grabbed a chair and scooted over towards you. Your body moved closer to his wanting to marinate in his scent. "Wow, you smell so nice Riddle like roses."
"Well thank you I make sure to use rosemary oil and- what are you doing get back to reading at once!" He pointed to the paragraph your eyes finished scanning. "I already finished," you pouted. "Fine then let's get started on this written response."
"The teacher wants you to write this in a formal format so no personal perspective." He continued to yap on and on about something that you couldn't bother to hear as you were distracted by the flamingos running across the yard. "Get him." You cheered leaning out the window to watch the mayhem between students and flamingos concur.
In an instant, you flashed him the short dress that you wore hiked up your back. “You mustn’t lean over like everything is showing,” Riddle yelled. He covered his eyes wanting to keep your privacy. “Ace he went that way,” you pointed. You felt the air on your ass and quickly realized what Riddle had been yelling about.
“Oops my ass was out,” you giggled. “It’s not funny Y/n!” Come on Riddle you act like you’ve never seen anyone’s panties before.” He stared at you blankly. “Wait you genuinely haven’t?” His face became rosy red at your question. “Well, not in real life of course.”
“Christ how is anyone this pure,” you wondered. “My mother kept me very sheltered from a lot of things.” So you’ve never watched porn?” He held his head low not meeting your bright eyes. “ How is that your first thought no I have not.” We’ll have you ever had a girlfriend or a side hoe or a hookup?”
“No I don’t have time for any of that,” he admitted. “I guess remaining top student comes with its downfalls.” You frowned for Riddle. You couldn’t imagine not getting laid. Just then you thought of something. “Well, Riddle since you gave me your time helping me study I’ll give you mine in bed?” You watched him awaiting his answer. “But mother says only married couples do that.”
You slapped your forehead out of frustration. “Mother means married couples stick it in. No one said we have to do all of that.” I suppose there’s no harm since it’ll be a fair exchange and as long as it’s done before tea time.”
“Yup just the perfect pace,” you gleamed. Now why don’t we get on the bed,” you suggested. “Alright.” Oh wow Riddle I’m surprised you’re agreeing to this.” Well, you only live once they say.” He propped himself up on his elbows wanting to face you.
“This process is for relaxation you can lay fully down.” He laid back sinking into his many pillows. “Good boy now take off your clothes.” You heard his breath hitch at the thought but his hands were eager to make them come undone. He stopped at his underwear, however. “Need help or something.” Your hand graced over his bulge and then to the band of his boxers.
“I think that would be best,” he admitted. You couldn’t help but notice his hands shaking. “Aww Riddle don’t be nervous. You sat up to give him some kisses on his burning torso. “It’s just a little dick-sucking,” you reminded. “I know but I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Well, then I’ll take things slower if you need it.” You began to kiss him softly he was a beginner after all. The first few were awkward teeth colliding but cute as you shared drool. The next ones were better since you took control catching his tongue in yours. You broke apart letting him catch his breath.
His hands tangled themselves in your hair pulling you back in. You balanced yourself on the bed before pulling your hips over his. Now you straddled his lap and could feel his heat against you. Riddle pulled up your dress which caused a gasp to come from your lips.
“Are you eager now?” Yes.” You looked up to see a riddles face flushed in a shade of scarlet. “Fine then I’m gonna go back down here. You crawled back to his legs making sure to land in an arch. Riddle thought he would lose his mind seeing the peak of your ass on full display. You pulled down his boxers to clearly see his mental state.
“Aww look at you dripping,” you coddled. "You can touch it i see you staring." Oh okay," he hesitated. You felt a hand collide with your ass cheek. He rubbed the flesh gently afterwards although it was an apology. You were gonna let out a protest but his focused face was too cute to pass up. You let a glob of spit coat his tip. You scanned his reaction as it slid down to his base.
His breath hitched at the warmness. Soon your mouth would follow the direction of the spit swallowing him down until you gagged. You exited with a pop making his toes curl. "So how's your first time getting head feel?" Good now continue," he demanded. His hand pushed you down onto his waiting dick.
You felt it twitch in your mouth as your tongue followed every curve every vein its entire being. "Oh my god," Riddle huffed. "Your cocks so cute look at it shake for me." You let it rest and spasm on your cheek. Your face had become wet with spit and his pre but you didn't mind. "Taste so good baby," you mumbled. Riddle could only bite his thumb down in response to holding his moans.
Your hand left his thigh to assist you in pumping him. Your grip was strong bringing his balls to tingle. Your lips noticed as you licked against the masses. And it intensified as you juggled them both in your mouth. He looked down on you astonished at your sinful actions.
Your dress was soaked but you were only just getting started. "Change of plans I want you to throat fuck me." Riddle looked at you like a lost puppy. "What does that mean." After quickly giving him a rundown he got into position. "So like this." He asked while pushing himself into your pulsing throat. Your hand linked themselves on his hips bringing him to push himself even deeper.
Riddle let out a grunt at the sensation of you squeezing around him. "Fuck it's like you're sucking me in." You chuckled you'd never think you'd get to hear Riddle RoseHearts curse. His hips buckled back and forth drilling themselves into you. But you still felt as though he was going to be soft on you.
"Riddle here's your chance to ruin me, to take all anger and stress out on me, to manhandle me. You're a man right then prove it to me." You spoke while scattering cock kisses. Riddle scoffed he was tired of everyone second-guessing him because he was small. "While since you give me permission I shall do my best job at it."
His smile twisted into a cruel smirk. You could tell in his head he had felt as though he was back in charge of the monarchy. While really you were still the dominant you just loved getting throat fucked. His hands raced to grab your neck forcing you to collide with the end of his shaft. You felt his hair tickle your nose while you gagged heavenly.
Riddle couldn't get enough of the vibrations against his core and forced you to stay until he watched your eyes roll back. You coughed greatly after being freed but stars were in your excited eyes as the same fate occurred. You watched Riddle lose himself in the contractions of your throat.
He moaned loudly as he pumped you like a fleshlight. They became whimper and he let out mewls that sounded as though he was crying. It was music to your ears especially when his voice that was sure to go raw yelled "Y/n" a dozen times. If he kept this up your throat would organize his shape forever.
And you wouldn't mind as long as you heard his whimper audio. "So good I think I'm gonna." He tried to give you a warning but it was too late. His cum poured down your throat leaving you to swallow the best you could in the short amount of time you had. The excess liquid spilled down your face and his now empty balls. He finally let go of his grip which allowed you to move away from the monster that was his cock.
You had 100% slayed that beast as he softened in front of your eyes. You pulled the bottom of your dress down ignoring the wet patch your essence had left on his bed. "Now we both held our fair end of the exchange." You spoke your voice raspy while removing your dress and stealing one of Riddle's shirts.
"Yes if you ever need help again be sure to let me know," he exclaimed. "Mhmm I'd love to push things even further. What your mother knows doesn't hurt her Riddle. It's not sin if its secret!”
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bumblebearzy · 6 months ago
Text
SuperBat #1: Small Acts
This takes place after Bruce, Diana, and Clark find out each other's identities, and before the Justice League find out each other's.
Clark shows up to Justice League meetings in his supersuit, holding a drink carrier with two coffees; one hot chocolate, and an americano with a shot of vanilla. Bruce looks at him quizzically, but doesn't say anything, even when Clark hands him the coffee with his iconic S symbol emblazoned on the side. Internally, Bruce snickers at the thought of the God-like Kryptonian walking into a café, standing in line, and ordering as if he were any other person.
"Hope I got it right, Bruce. I think this is your order" Clark smiles, speaking quietly. Bruce takes a sip. He sits back ever so slightly, stunned. Clark's smile widens. "Is it right?"
"Did Dick give you my order?"
"No, Steph did." Bruce thinks back to earlier that day, walking past Steph's room and hearing her faint giggle. Ah.
Bruce adjusts his posture back to his normal rigid position. Diana, who always sits across from the duo, grins a cheshire smile. Bruce and Clark don't notice.
Bruce becomes used to Clark bringing coffee to their bi-monthly meetings. In fact, he comes to expect it. After a few months, Hal points out that Superman only brings coffee for Batman.
"Why don't I get one?" Hal teases. Clark blushes a bright pink, his smile falters slightly. Bruce notices, but doesn't think much of it.
"Well, Batman is pretty much nocturnal, right? I kinda assumed he would be tired during these meetings, so I guess I thought he might need a pick-me-up."
Well-reasoned, Bruce thinks. Of course, he isn't tired. He always has someone else, normally Nightwing, cover the night before so he is alert and attentive during these meetings.
A week later, Clark starts noticing encrypted e-mails popping up in his inbox. Its contents are all articles about a company that appears to be a shell organization for a company operating out of Metropolis. He starts writing right away. Two or three days later, his investigation is complete, and his article is written. He suspects once he publishes his findings, a certain crime organization will be taken into custody. Within a few days, Clark's suspicion becomes true.
At the next meeting, as Clark is handing Bruce his coffee, Bruce says "I noticed Ascorp has been taken down. Good work." Clark looks at him, mouth agape.
"You sent the email?" Bruce nods.
"It seemed right up your alley. Plus, I don't have jurisdiction in Metropolis. That's your territory."
Clark smiles at him. He hears a quickening heartbeat, and looks around. Huh. Not to say he hasn't noticed it before, but this time, it seemed... different. More noticeable.
Diana smiles her cheshire grin again. Hal looks over at her, than over to Batman and Superman.
"Oooooooooh" He jokes. Nobody else on the team gets it, except Wonder Woman, who sends a knowing wink over to him.
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