#bless ya for sending this in :*

[virescent-v]

Except Me pt. 2

It's official. It's happening. Everyone remain calm.

But, since it's also kinktober, I was thinking about including specific ideas/prompts/kink suggestions from you guys!

SO! Send them my way!! My goal is to have the fic done....before October ends lmfao.

[hum-suffer]

I SHOULD NOT TALK TO PASANDIDA MARD WHEN PRE OVULATING

[secrettastemakerland]

GINNIFER GOODWIN JUST POSTED ON HER INSTA SHES WORKING ON THE SEQUEL

THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL ZOOTOPIA 2 IS IN THE WORKS BABYYY‼️‼️‼️‼️

GINNIFER GOODWIN MY BELOVED⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ WE ARE SO BACK MY GOODNESS 😭😭😭😭

[saiyanandproud]

Don't mind Ketch just sidling up to Mariko and sliding over a piece of paper to her, a devious grin over his scarlet features. Especially do not mind Isa's glowering look, not at all tinged with jealousy. Plum is wisely staying out of this, eating his breakfast and keeping his head down.

your name: Lord Ketch of the planet Brench

your age: I think 25 by human years? (in Brench years it's 50).

your perfect date: Looking into your eyes on a nice dinner date. I can see my reflection in them. I am handsome.  

make out in private or in public?: There's a roomy supply closet nearby if you're up for it. 

do you like to cuddle?: Maybe after the first date. 

tell me something about you: I know 37 different languages.

why do you want to be my valentine?: This Valentine's day sounds like a fun festivity, I'm sure you want celebrate it with the best looking soldier on the ship. Also, Isa said no.

"I know Lord Cooler is your crush, but he's a real stick-in-the-mud and doesn't appreciate the attention of a pretty girl. You should move on to the next best thing, which is definitely me."

"Oh, please," Isa muttered, rolling her quartz-rose eyes. "Mariko, don't listen to this idiot."

Undeterred by Isa's insults, Ketch's smile only widened as he chuckled. "Now, now, Isa, you missed your chance. No need to be jealous of Mariko here!"

"Ugh, you're incorrigible!" The Arcosian huffed, turning away with her nose in the air. "You're the one whose jealous of Lord Cooler. You're not even half as handsome or clever as he is!"

"We'll let Mariko decide that! What'd you say, Mariko? Would you prefer me or Lord Cooler as your Valentine?"

A Valentine's Application

Mariko read the piece of paper with a curious look. She was just at the third point when her cheeks reddened, whether in embarrassment or amusement she wasn't sure, and her lips curled into a grin. She had to clasp them tight as she kept reading, to stay in character and deliver a proper answer to that bold offer. This guy really was something.

Outright ignoring her comrade's comment on her supposed crush on their leader -- there were too many gossips around already, and she had decided not to feed any -- she leaned against her chair and folded her arms, observing Ketch and Isa bickering with an amused, wide smirk. Next to her, Plum loudly slurped on his drink, doing everything to pretend he wasn't there.

She wasn't an idiot. She knew this was a move to make Isa jealous. The scribbled 'Also, Isa said no' was a clear request for help there. And the improbable yet growing friendship she had with Ketch was enough to make him believe he could trust in her support with that. Mariko didn't know what got them that close and made them read each other so easily. Maybe the fact that both came from prominent families that just couldn't find the will be proud of them.

"I didn't know you knew so many languages, Ketch", she said casually. "Impressive. You got the brains, on top of the looks," she joked, giving him a wink.

It seemed to work. Isa's eyes snapped back at her with a baffled look, confusion clear on her pearly face. Ketch grinned, catching Mariko's drift, and theatrically ran a hand through his hair.

"What can I say. I'm full of surprises," he bragged.

Mariko's smirk grew larger. "Indeed."

Mariko sighed, looking back down at the paper. Her finger tapped on her arm as she put up a pondering pout.

"I mean... I am a bit homesick, so a Valentine's day date would be fun, I suppose. And hey, we do get along," she pointed out with a casual shrug. "Who knows, you might even be my type. I mean, you're good looking, brave, fun... And bold to the point of asking me out," she listed, staring at Ketch while making sure Isa wouldn't miss any of the qualities she was enumerating. "What's not to like? A girl can't help but give a chance to a daring guy like you, am I right?" And with that she looked at Isa, as if asking for her opinion. "I mean, didn't Lord Cooler say he had been fighting bravely on our last mission, or something?"

Isa glanced away while Ketch couldn't keep himself from turning to study her reaction, the largest shit-eating grin on his face. The female Arcosian let out something similar to a hiss.

"Something like that," she muttered sourly.

"He fought half of the soldiers on his own," Plum quietly recalled, implicitly not stating that he took on the other half. Mariko grinned. Clearly, he was on board with the plan, too.

"Exactly." She agreed, then rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh and glanced up at the ceiling. "Plus, all these stupid gossips on my crush on Lord Cooler... I wish there was a way to stop them. So, who knows," she pondered, tapping a gloved finger on her lips. "Maybe going on a date with someone else would work. I think Neiz, Dore and Salza have been starting to place bets on my crush," she frowned. "That would get them to stop, hopefully."

"They have," Ketch confirmed with a nod, as if it was a well-known fact on the spaceship. He leaned over, resting a hand on the back of Mariko's chair, and offered her a dashing smile. "So? What do you say, gorgeous?"

Mariko laughed. Isa, behind Ketch, was fuming.

"Showoff," Mariko grinned, keeping up with the farce as she stared at Ketch with an amused look. "Sure, why not. After all, as you said, a pretty girl like me is wasted on someone who doesn't appreciate her... And while I'm not sure about checking the supplies closet, dinner does sounds nice. We should land on the next planet to get some more fuel in a couple of days, so... Why don't you start checking on nice places to eat, gorgeous?" She suggested, narrowing her eyes at him with a suave smile. "Of course, you're paying."

With that, she took her tray, stretched her legs with a measured slow movement, and stood up with a studied curve to arch her back, which neither Ketch nor Isa missed, the former with a interested look, the latter with an outraged one. Plum let out a patient sigh, as if he could see that coming.

"I'll meet you at the spaceship doors at sunset in two days, Lord Ketch of the planet Brench" Mariko told Ketch with a mellow voice, brushing his shoulder with a light touch of her hand as she left. "And I'll make sure to wear something nicer than this flashy armor, for once," she added with a wink.

Ketch nodded, this time less boldly than before -- in fact, his cheeks seemed redder than usual, while Isa's face was a fluorescent pink, her white lips distorted in a grimace. Mariko smiled and walked away lightly rolling her hips, back towards the counter where Neiz and Dore had been enjoying the whole scene from. She put the empty tray down, gave the two soldiers an annoyed frown, and quickly dissimulated it while walking out of the cafeteria in slow, long steps, arms lightly oscillating at the same rhythm.

"Sounds like you got a date," Isa commented coldly between her teeth.

Ketch, who was still staring at the door Mariko walked out from, nodded faintly.

"Yeah... I mean, yeah," he cleared his throat, shook his head, and flashed Isa a grin. "Aren't you happy for me?"

Isa wheeled her head away with a snort. Her pink eyes fell on Plum, who was still busy finishing his breakfast and praying to be out of there as soon as possible.

But not on her watch.

"Plum," she called peremptory, slamming a hand on the table and making the poor Durian jump on his seat. "Do you have plans for Valentine's day?"

"What?!" Ketch screeched.

"Oh boy," Plum groaned.

[lokilickedme]

ELDER SPEAKING AT FIL’S MEMORIAL SERVICE TODAY:  Bob was a good man, a righteous man who was loved by everyone who knew him -

ME, SITTING IN THE FRONT ROW THREE SEATS DOWN FROM MY MIL AND STARTING TO FEEL THE 10MG OF THC I INGESTED ON MY WAY TO THE SERVICE:  *snort*

.

LADY I DON’T KNOW WHO SHOOK MY HAND SYMPATHETICALLY AFTER AND TRIED TO HUG ME:  I’m so sorry for your terrible loss, Bob was so wonderful, you must miss him terribly

ME, SUCKING ON ANOTHER 10MG AND READY TO POP A THIRD WHILE LITTLE RUNS CIRCLES AROUND ME WHIPPING UP THE HEM OF MY DRESS:  Eh it’s cool, I can send my kids to their grandma’s now.  Thanks tho

.

MAN TALKING TO MIL AS EVERYONE IS LEAVING:  You’ll see him again very soon, you’ll be together in Paradise forever, we have God’s promise of the resurrection

ME, LEANING AGAINST THE BUILDING LIGHTING A BLUNT:  Yeah no

.

[dragonofdojima]

堂島 @falsiliar​ Continued from Here の龍

   Famous last words in cases like this were usually pretty dumb. On one hand, the victim could beg “Wait, stop” as if saying that to someone fully intent on their actions was actually worth a crap. But on the other, for those feeling braver, you could goad the attackers: “Oh yeah? Like you actually have the balls” or “What, you’re really going to throw that at me?”

   Kokichi typically leaned toward the latter. If the stupid street thugs planned on harming him, then he at least wanted to enjoy himself before it happened. Nothing would change their minds. He knew this from experience—well, many experiences. And so, simultaneously with his thoughts weaving through about three different escape routes, he’d managed to utter, “Wow, wasting a perfectly good bottle on me? Pretty weak move, guys.”

   The phrase itself should’ve been all it took to tempt them to action—enough with the pussyfooting, right?—but just as Kokichi was targeting a gap in the group through which he could weasel himself (maybe even between that big lug’s legs...? Eugh, gross, but fine—), he heard a shatter at the same time as a new player entered the field. A much... larger player, and with his back facing Kokichi, it became clear all too quickly whose side he was on.

   A new party member, huh?    Well.

   The action sequence was over in what felt like a blink. This guy was, like... super over-levelled or something; Kokichi still heard the pump of adrenaline in his ears and that never-ending itch to move—to run—buzzing like electricity in his legs even after the thugs were handled. He looked down at their remains (still alive, no worries, but definitely gonna feel this for awhile) in rightly stunned silence in those seconds of calm after the fact.

   But then, so incredibly unperturbed by the danger he was just in, he faced his “hero” with an all-too wide grin and gasp of awe.

   “Woooow! You really showed them, Mister Tough Guy! That bottle didn’t even stand a chance against you.” Delighted energy bounced in his heels, and Kokichi raised his volume to speak over the pained grumbling in the sea of thugs around them. “I’m sure you’re toootally not gonna get in trouble for that or anything! As long as you were protecting the innocent, how could anyone be mad?”

   GUYS LIKE THIS have been around for as long as Kiryu himself could remember (Most definitely longer, even). And while he himself tended to mind his own business for the most part, never would he allow himself to turn a BLIND EYE to a kid in danger. For regardless of what the reason was, it was still PATHETIC of these men to corner him like this. Away from the public eye, with no chance of escape or call for aid.

   And sure, while his line of work (Or at least, just before his expulsion) tended to involve communicating with his own FISTS. Thugs like these thought will always think that INTIMIDATION alone will be enough to get whatever they wanted. And so, what better way to resolve this than to speak their language?

   Kiryu’s already had enough of all this.

   And the fight was over in a moment, as he would smash the remaining thugs down with a swing of a nearby garbage can. Wasting no more time, once it became clear that these guys weren’t leaving. But, just like so many others-- these stubborn idiots would still believe that outnumbering him with weapons in hand would be enough to beat this “old man”.

   With one last glance to the groaning bodies at his feet, the ex-yakuza would return his attention back to the boy. Noticing that he hadn’t taken the chance to run, and instead stood by to watch the entire thing. And before he could ask if he was alright, the boy would suddenly begin to chatter excitedly to his saviour. Those purple eyes actually SPARKLING then, as they peered up at him.

   ... Mister Tough Guy, huh? 

   And he was quick with the nicknames too, wasn’t he? Still, with how lightly he was taking all of this, something told Kiryu then that this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo. Almost appearing as if he was having the TIME OF HIS LIFE, instead of it being on the line. In fact, the SHEER DELIGHT on the other’s face and in his voice would incur the slightest raise of a thick brow... before furthering to a deep furrow of both brows themselves over what was said next.

   ... The boy was probably concerned then that he himself would get in trouble over all of this. Though, it was a little hard to tell. Especially when he was still grinning away like that. And so, offering nothing more than a shake of his head to that statement (No, the cops normally had more important things to focus on than this, actually), Kiryu would then gesture for him to at least follow him back out into the streets, where it would be much safer.

   “Just be careful from now on, alright, kid?” After all, this wasn’t the only group of thugs that was terrorising city, after all. “It’s best you don’t mess around with guys like that.”

[youaremysunshine-court]

White husky shizun cat live action when

[deityofhearts]

JOYOUS AND LOVELY PERSON AWARD! 🌸 Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people you adore! Absolutely no pressure but, It's sweet to know someone thinks you're an absolute delight inside and out ❤️

💖💖💖 thank you anon, you’re also lovely and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

[diejager]

Riding

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his head thrown back in the moment of exquisite pleasure. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re- tight!”

In a daze, he reached for your hips, warm palms clutching your naked flesh as he tried to ground himself, trying to stay coherent in the frenzy of sinful pleasure. You felt whole, squatting over him in the corner of the killer’s shack, skin bare and naked to his hazel eyes and hungry mouth. He watched you roll your hips, grinding yourself against the hardness of his cock, his trimmed hair tickling your nub, sending you both shivering. You from the constant stimulation, and him, from your sudden tightness around him. 

He arched his back, rutting into you, his strong arms moving along his shaft. It was a soft motion of pushing in and pulling out, in and out, again and again, until you were both panting and moaning for more. You met in the middle, your lips dancing across his in a passionate tango of love and obsession. You pushed off the ground, thighs burning at the work of riding him, he helped you move, supporting your weight with his hands and his hips thrusting upwards. 

“God-” he gasped, hissing when you bit his lower lip, pulling it when he tried to pull away. His chest rumbled in a low chuckle, pushing his body flush against yours and grinding into you. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.” 

You let out a cheeky laugh, hands roaming the expanse of his coat, nudging the flap away and running your nails over his tight muscles. You dug your short nails into him, hearing him groan, hips stuttering as you slammed down on his lap. He made the most addicting sounds you’ve ever heard, low and raspy, or deep and teasing. Danny had a way with words, his tongue singing the best songs one could wish to hear when he was moaning and groaning under you.

“I could tell you the same, Ghostie.”

He slurred out a moan at your nickname. He loved it when you called him Ghostie, you fully embraced his darker side, even playing little games with him when he asked. Maybe you were as sick as he was, wanting to give yourself to him, letting him fuck you however he wanted and giving him whatever he wanted. But he was as devoted to you as you were, he’d kneel and beg for you, he’d let you use him as your toy and he’d do anything for you. You were both a blessing and a curse to each other.

You gasped, back arching and eyes rolling. You clawed at his shoulder, drawing lines of beautiful crimson from your love down his chest as you rolled your hips. Danny hissed, driving skyward jerkily, biting back his moan as he came. He filled you in waves of potent cream, the white cum dripping down his balls and his puckered rim when it became too much for your tight snatch. He gave a few more thrusts, riding out your peaks until his cock grew soft and he supported your limp figure, tired and satiated. 

“Love you, doll,” he murmured, his swollen lips finding their rightful place on the crown of your head. 

“Love ya too, Danny.”

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | camprock! au x luke castellan series

when may castellan, the manager of the poisoned mercury, the hottest, new band on the scene, grows tired of the boys' antics, she sends them to camp half-blood to get their heads on straight.

luke castellan, heartthrob and lead singer, begins to see the punishment as a blessing in disguise when girls fawn over him at camp. that is until he met you, a fellow disappointment to her parent, who couldn't care less about him and his fame.

luke is anything but a quitter so he's determined to make you fall for him before he gets back on the road after summer. you're not having it.

or

an au loosely based on disney's camp rock where there are no gods and teenage dirtbag! luke castellan spends his summer falling in love with the girl who loves to argue with him. one-sided enemies to lovers.

meet the band! | silly posts about poisoned mercury au! | poisoned mercury playlists | smau masterlist | find hcs and asks under 'poisoned mercury chats' on my page

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous (introduction)

ii. bad reputation

iii. everybody talks

iv. end up here

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

vi. check yes, juliet

vii. just friends

r u mine? (smut blurb, mdni!)

viii. pink skies

delicate (friend group shenanigans: the boys and clarisse find out about luke and five star!)

ix. now you got me

meddle about (smut blurb, mdni)

x. long way home

post chb

close as strangers

asks

jealous! luke

cleaning luke's wounds

luke gets in trouble for the scratches you left

midnight swim

poisoned mercury plays never have i ever at buzzfeed

may and five star

fans want five star, not luke!

more to come!

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.1k w.count- boothill needs a lil tune up [...y'all should've seen this one comin' honestly]

you're not sure why you bother setting an alarm every time you go to sleep. you don't even know when you'll be sleeping for one; it could be in the afternoon, it could be in the morning, it could be for ten minutes at your workbench, and on the rare occasion, you can even go to bed at night like everyone else. although, that last option when blessed upon you, never lasted the whole night.

as for the original dilemma of alarm clocks? who needs 'em! the critters getting into your shop and wrecking your tools around were a surefire way to get your blood pumping with a wild chase around the shop with a hefty, swinging wrench. kids stopping by to see the newest hunk-of-junk thing you've been tinkering with or maybe even bringing you some toy to fix with whimpering chins are always sure to keep you awake- you couldn't send them away with smashed hopes. perhaps it was a good natured older lady or gentlemen just stretching their legs one fine morning after you had pulled an all nighter, but now you have to entertain their gossip well into the morning past the ass-crack of dawn because you can't be a bad host!

this instance, however, just so happens to be the familiar sound of heavy, metal boots clanking their way through the shop's public entrance. the sound of the stomping reverberates around your small little rest room at the back of your shop through the camera feed you keep running at all hours (mostly for those critters previously mentioned). having just fallen asleep on top of being hyperaware of sounds from the feed, your eyes fly open. with a well-overdramatic, one-person show worthy groan evolved to frustrated yell, you were throwing your shabby blanket off your legs.

"wakey, wakey!" the synthetic voice of an overly familiar man projects into your room.

you stomp across the room in two short strides. slamming your palm down on a button attached to a small table with all sorts of other switches and knobs, the small indicator that audio is feeding from your microphone kicks on as red as your temper.

"the hell do you want?" you growl, voice muffled at the end of your exhausted question by your free hand running down your face. you hear his voice chuckle on the other end. peering through your fingers into the video screen, he had moved to stand away from your shop door. his arms are crossed across his metallic chest, chin tilted up so his one eye can gaze into the camera that follows his movements.

"now, now, sugar," he chuckles, "just open the door, would ya'? i could use some fixin' up." as if trying to coax you into letting him in, he waves one of his arms around by the elbow.

you're not sure if he heard you click your tongue before you lifted your hand off the audio feed button, but he chuckles nonetheless as the soft click of disconnection echoes on his end. he knew you'd come racing to the door... well, at the very least you wouldn't leave him out to dry.

the cowboy dips his chin and chuckles under his breath as the brim of his hat shadows his face. he could hear you stomping your way towards him and just imagining your irritated face with a possibly twitching brow was highly amusing to him.

the door in front of his toes swings open inwards and the rush of air as it did so flutters his long bangs that always covered the right side of his face. his chin rises a fraction, and he was right. your face was assuming.

standing in a wrinkled shirt that you no doubt had been trying to sleep in, arms crossed and a crease so deep in your brows he was tempted to push his thumb between them.

"well," he starts, swaying his hunk of metal bodyweight to one of his equally metal legs, "ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

"what. do you want." you hiss. before he gives you a verbal answer, his arm swings down and swipes something from his pocket before presenting it in front of your face. your eyes nearly go crossed to examine it. then you're looking back up at him, not any more amused than before. "is this supposed to be a bribe?"

the cowboy shrugs playfully, twisting the covered candied sucker between his fingers.

"do ya' want it to be?"

you roll your eyes, bringing your arm up to snatch the small boost of sugar from him. "just get in here, boothill." you sigh, free hand coming to rub your forehead. turning your body to retreat back into your home, the clanking of him following behind echoes at your back.

boothill whistles at the state of the familiar shop he'll find himself in from time to time for quick fix-ups. a workbench loaded with heaps of scrap metal, tools, random bobbles, and screws all littered on top of pages and printed blueprints of projects or repairs. it's even more of a chaotic mess than last time. he sits on the stool he normally snags as his when he's here and, without speaking, you're hooking up a small machine attached to the wall next to the bench and offering him the end of a circular cord.

"need a charge?" you ask with a small lisp from the candy you had already unwrapped and placed in your mouth against your cheek.

"well, why not," he entertains. taking the thick, extendable cord from your hand and plugging it into the port on his lower back.

you flit around a few other places before your snagging a stoll for yourself and placing it in front of his knees. you push some estranged tools around with your forearm and, while moving your sucker from one cheek to the other, you begin to maneuver your hair out of your face.

boothill enjoys watching you in this way. it felt familiar- just seeing someone move around in rather mundane ways. this small sense of domesticity was familiar and comfortable. it calmed him; reminding him of home.

"what's the problem?" you finally ask, looking a tad bit more awake and more or less ready to work on whatever issue he had to present.

his right arm moves to cross his lap and his palm bangs twice on his opposing forearm where his internal revolver barrel is.

"i got myself in quite a fuss with this dang thing. forkin' bullet got jammed in the goose-dud thing and i can't even pop the barrel open to reload it."

you stare at him like he just said the dumbest thing you've ever heard. "you came all the way here. because your arm got jammed by a bullet." the way you spoke sounded exactly how you looked at him.

"this ain't no one-handed fix, sugar." you stay quiet, not willing to admit he had a point. using both hands to not only try and pop open the jam, but also tinker around with what was essentially his whole arm's motion control- that did require a bit more finesse than just slamming his arm on a wall until it gave way... which is precisely what you could imagine him doing.

"fine," you yield. "take off that sorry excuse of a 'jacket' unless you want that sleeve covered in oil."

you twist away from him, half-standing at a strange angle to reach across your workbench for something as the satisfying sound of the bottom of his small zipper unlatches. shrugging it off, he tosses it onto your bench, covering a few loose tools and scribblings of paper.

you fully get out of your stool and trot over to the other side of the shop to roll over a smaller table with a metal tub. you wheel it to his left and, without instruction, boothill lays his arm over it.

as you begin to tinker around with his arm, picks, pliers, oil and all working on trying to dislodge the stray bullet that had caused such an issue, boothill has taken to lounging comfortably as he watches.

his right arm, free of any issues or problem fixing, was propped up on the corner of your workbench at his side with his forearm resting along the edge. his metal fingers had snagged a stray nail from the workspace and had been twirling it absent-mindedly between his knuckles like a bullet.

the only words spoken between you both as you worked was the occasional quick apology if something you did prods against a wire that sent a shock up his arm or made his fingers twitch.

"easy. last thing we need ya' doin' is settin' my gun off, sugar," he had told you. just because his arm machinery wasn't properly loaded- ain't nothing was stopping you from accidentally relodging the bullet and sending it through your wall. the sudden discharge coupled with his exposed wires could easily kick his arm back with enough recoil to knock you clean out with how close you were leaning in to see what you were doing.

"okay..!" you whisper to yourself before the sound of something sliding down in his arm is followed by a sensation; one he was almost familiar with. "give me a wrench. heavy," you instruct. on hand was spread across his forearm just at the start of the revolver barrel, the other outstretched towards your bench. grabbing the nearest one, he slaps it into your palm.

with a two, heavy whacks using your newly acquired wrench, you slam the barrel shut and boothill lets out a small breath.

"now, that feels a heck of a lot better," he chuckles. you reach around his forearm, release the tension latch and the barrel swings out successfully. with your pliers, you easily remove one problematic, greasy bullet. "knew i could count on you to get the job done."

"and thanks to you, my hands are gross," you chide. fingers greased in oil. boothill grabs a rag from your workbench drawer and tosses it over your sullied hands. you start working the cloth between your fingers the moment it hits your skin. "i recommend you stick around and charge up before heading out on whatever you got lined up next."

"shucks, you mean it?" you can't tell if he's genuinely thankful you'd allow him to stay or if he was just being facetious. once your hands were at least dry, you start using it to wipe down his arm next.

"course i do. i'll have to give you a quick check again before you go. i'll mess around and try and make it so it doesn't jam like that again. whatever tech-doc you worked with before really needed to focus on the finer details." boothill wondered if you knew that you had lifted his newly repaired limb and started rotating and twisting it like you were admiring your work. like you were admiring him.

"they don't matter no more," he tells you. "i got ya' now, don't i? who needs some random rear shirt-bag, when i got the best in the forkin' business right here?"

"careful now. flattery will get your everywhere."

"no shirt?"

"watch your mouth," you tease before you stand. "i mean it though. stay put and charge."

"i ain't no stupid electronic," he clicks. his body moves and twists so both of his arms are now leaning on the workbench behind him. both elbows supporting him as his arms dangle off the ledge. "but I hear ya'." his eye shuts under the shadow of his hat.

his eye reopened no sooner than it shut when the shadow caused by the brim of his cowboy hat disappeared and the light of your shop flitered through his eyelids. with a clear, open eye, he lifts his chin to see you standing in front of him.

you had pinched the brim of his hat between your fingers, snatching it off his head and revealing the fullness of his long, dual-colored hair and cross-hair-infused eye. you take his hat and nonchalantly toss it behind his right shoulder to avoid getting any residual oil from his left arm on it.

"take your damn hat off inside my shop will you? you don't need it." you turn away from him as he continues to stare at your back, slack jawed. you mutter something about washing your hands and arms before you disappear behind a doorway and around the corner of the wall. he'd been in the entirety of your shop before, so he knows where you went but all he could think about was you flicking his hat off him.

the cowboy let his head fall backward, the hair on the backside of his skull tangling with screws and pencils as his right hand comes to rest over his face. he can hear the water running in the other room.

"ah, son of a nice lady...!"

boothill has really got to tell you not to mess with his hat.

a/n: one day i'll write a flirty hat rule fic. *sigh* one day.

[callsign-datura]

Hcs or works for a touch-starved reader dating 141+ Alejandro and Konig? She never initiates but the second they cuddle with her or put a hand on her waist she just gets embarrassingly turned on?

Ghost was a little surprised. He could tell that you craved physical intimacy, but you never once initiated it. You always lingered, always leaned, always stood near-- but you never said a thing about what you wanted. He started taking note of it a while into your relationship after he became comfortable with physical intimacy. Each time you cuddled, you were always pressed tight to him; clinging onto him for dear life, it seemed like, as he dragged his calloused hands up and down your back. To him, it was a gentle moment, one where he was quietly demonstrating to you that he loved you. To you? Jesus Christ, you were DROOLING. Your eyes were screwed shut as you shuddered through the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin, a breath leaving your lips as your grip tightened on him almost barely. He took note of this change in behavior almost immediately, and his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you. His left hand slid up your shirt, sending you shuddering once more as he cupped your waist with his right hand. He leaned down and kissed your head, and he felt something in his chest bubble whenever he heard that little whimper that left your lips. "Gonna tell me what y'want, babydoll, or are you gonna suffer in silence?" Price always felt like your behavior was a little odd. He never said anything about it but he noticed it. The way you trembled in his hold as he cuddled you close to his chest, the way you whimpered when he put his face in your neck and the stubble on his chin grazed your soft flesh. The way that you'd shift back against him just a little whenever you were the little spoon, the way your grip on his wrist would tighten when his hand drifted southward; he could tell, and he liked it. Liked hearing those shuddering breaths, liked teasing you about it until you were huffing and puffing about how mean he was. It was one of the nights you were cuddling. You had your back to his chest and he had his chin resting on your shoulder. It was a normal cuddling session, one you always shared before you fell asleep. His touch was getting to you, as it always did. He took notice of it this time and decided to go further with it. His hand drifted underneath the waistband of your pants and panties, and he littered little kisses over your shoulders. He tensed up a moment upon feeling how wet you were, and a strained hum left his lips. "Christ. This turned on from a little cuddling, love? What m' I gonna do with you...?" Soap, bless this boy, he was oblivious for the longest time. Oblivious to the way you squirmed and shuddered and whined in his grip, always equating it to you being you; playful and restless. It took you alluding to it very strongly for it to click in his head. When it finally did, he didn't say anything; just decided to play on it. Spent the day holding your waist, your hips, putting a hand on your back or cupping your face when he got the chance, laughing to himself each time your face flushed and a breath left your lips. He knew he was going to make it up to you. He just wanted to see if your little problem was as bad as it seemed.

You were definitely on edge the entire day, and when you finally got to be alone with him, he was immediately making out with you... intent on making it up to you. "M'sorry, dove, gon' make it up to ya, okay? Jus' bear with me... wanna make you feel good now." Gaz could tell something was up. He knew immediately and immediately had to say something about it. The conversation wasn't... embarrassing, per se, it was just interesting to see his response to how you felt and how his actions affected you. Gaz is always a very physically affectionate person. Holding you, caressing you, kissing you when he can; and to hear that those little things turned you on so goddamn easily? He was thrilled.

He loved being intimate with you. It was an experience he adored; he loved being able to bond with you in that way, loved being able to be so close to you. Knowing that this would just make way for more passionate sex... ...So he started playing on it. Teasing you with this shit-eating grin on his face about the entire thing, running his hands up and down your sides as he kisses your shoulders and his eyes twinkle as he looks at you. "Mm? What's wrong? ...Again?" Konig... He also knows. I mean, you were never necessarily subtle about it. He picked up on it right away and at first decided to give you some grace. Less touches that could set your body alight, more nearness rather than touching. But he found himself missing your body heat, missing the way your flesh felt underneath his hands, missing the way you shuddered and panted just from him holding you. Trying to make a situation less difficult for you quickly ended up starving him of what he needed from you so badly. So he decided to give in to his desires, and yours. It happened one night when you were both lying in bed. Content with being near each other yet craving something more, Konig's head tilted in your direction and those baby blues of his sparkled as he shifted a bit closer to you. Draping an arm over your midsection, he held your belly and kissed your shoulder, trailing them up your neck as he nuzzled his face into you, taking in your scent and feeling the tent in his pants grow more by the second. He grunts quietly. "I can't do it anymore, Schatz. Have to have you..." Alejandro is a very passionate lover. Expect to have sex often. It's not very often your needs go unnoticed, however, as he quickly notices the look on your face when he holds you. His hands on your hips from behind as you make a meal, his face buried into your back as he breathes in your scent and whispers sweet nothings to you, enjoying the closeness. You'd told him about your little habit, so it was always present in the back of his mind how you'd respond to these little displays of affection. Your body tenses, and he feels your muscles flex underneath his grip. His hands travel from your hips to your abdomen, his thumbs rubbing along the flesh and cupping the curve there as he sways you back and forth. He pushes against you from behind teasingly to see how you respond. When you gasp, he feels a sense of pride come over him. "Something you need, cariño? Use your words... I'll be happy to make you feel good if that's what you're craving, mm?"

[eelnoise]

a little rhythm and a wicked feeling (nsfw!)

trafalgar law x fem!reader cw: fingering, slight overstimulation, pussy touching in general, piv sex an: just like w/ the usopp one this is the law one btw. hes a freak i need him wc: 1.1k tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @nina-ya @themushroomofdeath @risenwrites @missmugiwara masterlist | kofi

"Sit still," Law mutters into your shoulder, one hand knuckle-deep in your pussy while the other rustles around on his desk, flipping pages or filing through papers. 

Snug in his lap and locked between his sturdy arms, you try your hardest to keep from wriggling around too much – but with the orgasms he's pulled out of you already, you're almost too sensitive to the touch to avoid twitching with even the slightest of touches.

Law knows your limits, and his fingers slide out of you to touch gently at your pussy for a reprieve. His motions are slow, methodically rubbing and spreading you into a calm push and pull of pleasure and relaxation – he can’t have you totally limp in his arms just yet.

"Hmph," Law grunts, his voice growing a bit hoarse as he rubs at your slit, "Not sure if we have what we need on board," He sighs and reaches over to the multi-page inventory accounts. "Nothing else that's useful for hives, anyway."

"But there are things we can get to help, right?" You quip, forcing stability to your words with varying degrees of success. "Shachi isn't doomed to his fate, surely."

"Not quite, but it's going to take a bit," Law murmurs, his finger slipping back into you with the intention to work you up again, "We'll have to make a stop at a proper apothecary, but I don't think we can get to one for at least few days." Another finger joins the first, stretching you open for his slow, practiced thrusts, "For now, we'll have to manage with what we can get our hands on."

You almost sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and roll your head backward into the crook of his neck. The muffled cry of delirium makes Law smirk to himself, the man fully aware of the affect his work is having on you.

He doesn't need you to talk, of course, but despite everything he's doing, despite everything you're feeling -- Law finds your attempts to chat accordingly with him both humorous and arousing.

"I can count on your perception to assist me next landfall, yes?" Law asks, eager to hear your voice again.

You whimper, nodding with soft grunts and straining breaths; your voice is lost in the symphony of your pleasure. The way his fingers pump in and out of you, spreading you wide, has your hips starting to raise to meet him, riding the lithe digits as they scissor in and out of you.

"Good, good," He approves, pinning your hips down to his lap as his own rise to meet yours, "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Law pulls his fingers from you again, just at the very peak of your impending high. Both of his hand come to your waist as he effortlessly twists you around to face him.

You straddle his thighs, watching as he pulls his cock free from his already loosened pants. He aligns himself with you, the tip of his length teasing up and down your folds before stopping to just barely press himself into you. Unable to resist, you lower yourself onto his him, impaling yourself on him inch by blessed inch. Your body shudders as he fills you up, the tightness of your pussy making Law to groan with satisfaction.

Law leaves you to do the rest as he resumes his work. His arms lock you in at either side, one hand firm on your lower back as you guide yourself down. Your arms snake around his neck and you cradle your head on his shoulder to muffle the sound of your cry when your hips meet fully.

You begin to bounce on his lap, the head of his cock hitting that one spot inside you and making you sob with delight. Law's hand on your lower back slowly drifts up to grip one of your breasts, teasing your nipple between his fingers. The combination of pleasure is enough to send you spiraling into another orgasm, your back arching as you cry out his name, the sensation overwhelming.

Law watches you as you ride him, his eyes hooded with pleasure. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth as he hungrily devours yours.

He grabs at your hips, holding you steady as his thrusts become more insistent, pumping his cock deeper into you. You're a tight, wet heat that envelopes him, burning any sense he has left away and leaving him unable to preoccupy himself any longer with the endless theories of Shachi's disposition.

As you reach the peak of another orgasm, Law can't help but feel the swell within him, the slick heat of your pussy pulsing around his cock. He bites your lower lip, muffling a groan as he thrusts deep, burying himself as far as he can.

"Shit!" He curses, his hips bucking as he fills you with his seed, the warmth spilling within you. His fingers grip your hips, bruisingly tight, as his orgasm rips through him, causing his cock to pulse and twitch inside you, painting the insides of your pussy with his essence.

He continues to pump into you, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. As the last of his release spills into you, he pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest as he lowers his head to bury his face in your hair.

With a soft chuckle, Law twists his chair around to set you down gently, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other at your waist. "You should clean up get some rest," He says, his thumb rubbing apologetic circles into your flesh. "I need you wide alert to keep Shachi from dying, after all." 

"You know, I might just let you die if you don't take a break from your research," You jest, nudging him with a smile that's not without genuine affection. He grins, his hand still rubbing at your hip, "But I suppose I'll settle for sleep and a proper bath."

You lean in to give him a quick but tender kiss before standing up and making your way off his lap. "Get some rest; I'll be in my cabin if you need me."

Law watches you leave, his smile softening as he turns his attention back to his books, his own exhaustion creeping up on him. He'll need to rest as well, but he can't help but feel some relief at the small bit of progress he's made. Your help, your distraction, has done wonders for his spirits, and the lingering scent of you on his fingers only adds to his satisfaction.

[eustasskidagenda]

Okay, this post is not based on a request. I kept thinking about it for hours and finally decided to write it down: how the OP characters would text their s/o. So here are some texting headcanons for some of my favorite characters: Eustass Kid, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Sabo. I'll probably write a part 2 with my other beloved characters: Luffy, Marco, Killer, and Robin. :D

☆Texting HCs for Kid, Law, Sanji, Zoro & Sabo

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, Kid is cursing, fluff, funny, partly nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro 

WC : 2k

Kid

Your name/photo in his contacts: mine. With a photo of your ass, obviously. And when he's mad at you, he renames you mid(ge).

Such a brat.

His wallpaper: a cool photo of his motorbike (I'm sorry but Kid is that kind of man in love with his own bike/car. But it's okay, he's still my favorite.) Or, a pic of your ass.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: your ass, random photos of your face when he’s teasing you, his bike, and some punk stuff (music, makeup, outfit etc.)

His fav emoji : none.

He likes to send really, really shorts messages. Like : 

"Hi" "u know" "i have an idea" "So listen:"

Goddam Kid, just write the WHOLE sentence in one message.

He's sending you random pictures of his torso, just to flex with his big tiddies.

And you have to respond with a heart emoji and praise him each time.

If you want, he's more than willing to send dick pick too. 

Again, you have to praise him. Even if the pictures are absolutely non-aesthetic. He's blessing you with his cock after all. 

"Babe, you don't know how to take beautiful pics of your dick." "WTF SHUT UP???????? It's MY dick???!!! OF COURSE IT'S BEAUTIFUL??!!!" 

Yeah, Kid is clearly using extra punctuation. 

Oh, sure, each morning, you receive a mirror selfie of his outfit of the day. Such a punk fashion icon. "Rate my outfit on a scale of amazing to amazing" 

He doesn't use emojis because they sound too soft and stupid. "em0teS aRe f0r s0fT b0ys Y/N"

If you complain about his messages looking cold, he might use random emotes to annoy you like "UgH iF U wAnt 🦬" (with that stupid dumb sponge bob meme)

Whenever he calls you, it seems like he's yelling through the phone. 

He likes using caps lock like "HEY Y/N, WANNA FUCK TONIGHT??????" 

He's sending you random punk/rock music. And you have to listen and react to every single music, otherwise he's so pissed off. He is sharing his world with you, the less you can do is interact with him. 

He also loves sending some pics of what he's working on, because Kid likes to repare/custom some cars or motorbike. 

And last thing, I like the idea of Kid Pirates being a punk music band, so sure, Kid loves to send you some videos of him playing guitar. "My fingers are skilled in three things : music, crafting and fingering you all the fucking day long"

His phone is so damaged because he throws it every time he gets angry (like every two minutes).

Law

Your name/photo in his contacts: y/n-ya. With a cursed picture of you. Just to tease you with it. 

His wallpaper: nothing, just the random by default home screen. In his view, wallpapers are useless and pointless.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery: random pictures you took of him, emo memes, and boring stuff about medicine or basic hygiene rules for Luffy. And a guide to "how to stop screaming and how to control your anger: a guide for children" for Kid. 

His favorite emoji: 🖕🏻

Whenever you annoy him with a stupid joke or a prank you saw on TikTok, his immediate reaction is to block you. He's so annoyed, please, leave him alone. He is immediately aware that it is a prank. Luffy always does the same to him before you do.

He's never using capital, it's for the emo aesthetic, like 'I hate bread'. Nope. But ✨"i hate bread."✨, yeah, much better

And yes, he uses "." everytime, it's for the dark and tired emo aesthetic. 

He always leaves a group conversation as soon as you include him. Please, he's so pissed off by those kinds of things. 

He's able to leave your message seen for days. Just because he was busy and forgot about what you said. If you need an answer, sure, try to call him. He always keeps his phone in silent mode. 

He likes to send you cool articles that he reads. Especially about medicine, tattoos or nerd stuff like movies, books, games etc.

"wanna go to a date tattoo with me tomorrow?" 

That kind of question is clearly his love language

He enjoys teasing you with random photos of his tattooed fingers or chest. "I bet you miss these fingers." And yeah, he's clearing curling his fingers on the pic like he would do when they are inside you. He's really good at teasing you with photos. 

Kid and Luffy steal his phone whenever he's with them. So be ready to receive a lot of ugly pictures of Law (taken by the chaotic duo), middle fingers from Kid, and blurry meat pictures from Luffy. 

Poor Law deserves a break.

Sanji 

Your name/photos in his contacts : 💗💘🛐Mon Amour (my love)🛐💘💗 With the most beautiful picture of you. 

His wallpaper : a cute couple photo.

What kind of pictures are in his gallery : a lot of cooking videos or photos, you, aesthetic pic of the sky and a private album with some hot nudes that you sent to him.

His favorites emojis : 💘💗💖🛐💍🧎🌺🌸🌹🫦🥰😘🧑🏻‍🍳🍽🍷🥘 (yeah, Sanji LOVES emojis)

He's always texting you back. If he can't reply within a second, he won't open the text. Sanji, leaving his beautiful s/o with that awful "seen"? Never. 

All the mornings "good morning sweetheart 💘" and all the evenings "sleep well sweetheart, dream about me 💖"

He wants to take a cute and aesthetic pic of the both of you all the days. 

He bombards you with pictures of his cooking. It's cute, but also annoying because he can't help but send extra long texts. He describes every single action he did, along with recipes and tips. 

He enjoys seeing your outfit of the day. He can attempt to match his clothes to yours. 

Random "I love you 💖" and "if no one told you you were pretty today : you're the prettiest 🥰" 

He enjoys sending you cooking videos. "We should eat this tonight. What do you think? 🧑🏻‍🍳"

He's pretty good at sexting. He knows how to take aesthetic photo of his hands, back, or mouth. Not just an ugly dick pick (Kid, Zoro, I'm looking at you). And he also likes to leave you some message like.

I would sit you down on this table if you were with me right now. You know, the one in your kitchen where he had dinner with your parents yesterday? I would gently kiss your neck, fondle your chest, and slowly kneel between your legs until you shout my name. You would pull on my hair, begging me to keep going until you cum repeatedly on my face.  👅 "

And if you send him a nude, well, he's going to die from a nosebleed.

Rest in peace, Sanji. 

Zoro

Your name/photos in his contacts : "y/n". You pick a picture for him because Zoro and phones are not compatible.

His wallpaper : a cool katana

What kind of pictures in his gallery : gym selfies, katanas and alcohol (all with ugly quality)

His fav emojis : 👍🏻 and 😴 Like:

"hey Zoro, you're alright" 👍🏻

"Zoro, wanna hang out?" 😴

"Babe, what are you doing?" 😴

"… am i annoying you?" 👍🏻

He can responds to absolutely anything with those two emojis. 

Zero is so oblivious, so let's be honest: he is not good at using phones. Almost every day, he forgets his phone at home. And even if he didn't forget about it, it's probably on silent mode or just off.

He doesn’t know how to use the keyboard, so prepare yourself for coded-message like "o!. @= sp⛑t t🧹day???/!df🆎e !!"He can't even use the excuse "my cat walked on my keyboard", he just sucks with technology.

Your messages are often "seen ✔️" and that's all. Not because he wants to be mean, just... he didn't understand the concept of answering every text. He takes all of your messages as random information. Like "Hey, I'd love to see you tonight!". Well. OK. Message understood. That's all.

The only application he has on his phone is Google Maps. Even with it, he still gets lost. "Turn left." Without a doubt, he turns right. 

Once, he tried to please you with a dick pic. But the photo was just terrible: bad luminosity, an ugly close-up of his cock, blurred as fuck, and you can see the dirty tissue behind him.

He doesn't answer when you call him because he's either asleep or at the gym (or drunk).

Once, he also tried to send you a voice message, but it was just the sound of the wind. He forgot to talk closer to the microphone.

Sabo 

Your name/photos in his contacts : "my revolutionary 🎩💛". With a beautiful pic of your smiling face. 

His wallpaper : a symbol of revolution. 

What kind of pictures in his gallery : petition screenshots, his brothers, you, anti-capitalist memes and a private album with some hot pic of you (naughty Sabo)

His fav emojis : 🔥✨🖕🏻💛✊🏻😡😏😎🤩👉🏻👌🏻🫵🏻

Sabo is... complicate. Sometimes, he doesn't answer for WEEKS. And sometimes he's extra chatty. And when he's chatty well...

Sabo is always spamming you with petition links. "Save the dolphins", "save the monkeys", "fuck capitalism", "for the resignation of *insert random politician name*" 

"Hey sweetheart, manifestation tomorrow. See you there!! 🫵🏻" 

When it's not petitions, it's probably videos or articles. Sabo is a pure revolutionary. Be prepared to receive lengthy texts when he wants to fight for a cause. It's cute, honestly. He's really involved and passionate. 

"You, me, on a trip tomorrow?! 😏"

Sabo has a knack for surprising you with trips, so prepare yourself. This man craves adventure and surprises. He wants you to join his crazy journey. 

Sometimes, he's using proper grammar and punctuation, sometimes he's using a lot of !!!!!!!!??????? And caps lock. Especially when he's furious about something.  He makes a lot of typo errors because he's always in a rush while typing.

Let's fught  *figrt *fijkt *FUCK *LET'S FIGHT (and fuck)

He enjoys taking pictures of you unexpectedly because it makes you seem more natural. 

"So… sweetheart… we have a new roommate" with a cute pic of a dog/frog/duck/snail/whatever. Sabo has a kind heart. If he sees a wounded or abandoned animal, he feels obliged to adopt it.

And regarding spicy texts… 

Sabo is a kinky boy. So sure, he's thirsty when it comes to sexting/nudes. As a revolutionary, he is also very careful. He always asks you first before sending you nude or spicy texts. If you're willing, then prepare yourself.

A bunch of nudes. Since he's good with them, he won't display his dick in a weird and unattractive angle to you. He enjoys showing you his hands when he's wearing his gloves. Or a mirror photo of his back.

"I know you will scratch it when I'll fuck you tonight 😏"

You're not forced to send him nude or spicy texts back. He respects your boundaries without exception. And if you send him a photo anyway, he's also really nice. Always a comment like "your ass is soooooo good with this angle. I can't believe I'm that lucky 🥵" and if he wants to save a photo for his collection, he's always asking if it's okay with you.

"Sweetie, i have a new toy for you… 💛"

We all know what he's talking about. Naughty Sabo.

[dumbification]

my aeon ft. boothill

summary: when he wants to cherish the moment to hold you in his arms.. boothill's devotion and adoration for you is endless, you'll never hear the end of it... (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) !!

cw: boothill x fem!reader, body worship, reader has scars (interpret it any way), you're both touch starved, u just wanna get to the point.. iykwim ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) softcore smut?? or highly suggestive.

“so pretty, baby.” boothill’s voice hummed through your skin, sending shivers down your spine. he went on and suckled at the sensitive skin of your neck—he made sure it would leave marks. he was always an expert at making you squirm, he knew just how to make you long for his touch.

he started to trail kisses down your body, pausing to give your breasts a gentle squeeze. an erotic moan escaped from your lips. he smirked. “the aeons must’ve blessed me, sugar.” he raised his head for a moment to cherish you in all your beauty. “heck. you might as well be an aeon. look at yerself..” 

he laid down to rest on your chest for a while. his mechanical heart’s beating adjusted to yours, syncing in patterns. “boothill..” he knew you longed for something more, but he insisted on relishing in your warmth—at least for now. he enjoyed tracing circles on your abdomen, hearing your breath hitch.

he went back to work and trailed kisses down your lower body, purposely avoiding your intimate area. he stopped at your inner thighs, his face shifting into a frown. “ya got new ones?” his cold thumb gently brushed over your scars—old and new. your eyes averted his in fear of being lectured. 

“ya know i ain’t gonna be mad, darlin’.” he pressed loving kisses against your scars. you felt something pulse and throb. your hunger for him grew. you spread your legs, trying to send him a message. he ignored this, and trailed kisses back up—all the way to your lips.

he looked you up and down, his lips ghosting your own. his hands had a firm grip on your waist, ready to devour you. you made the first move, he soon followed—crashing against your plump, soft lips. you hesitated at first, but introduced your tongue to his. you loved making the first move, whenever you had the chance.

boothill always wanted to enjoy the moment, taking things slow to truly indulge in you. on the other hand, you were quite impatient, you wanted to get to the point. he usually attempted to convince you that the reward would be even greater if you were patient.

his tongue traced over your face, leading to your ear. he left a clean stripe of saliva—it wasn’t hot nor cold. “tell me what ya want, pretty lady.” he was teasing you. a soft moan crept through your mouth when he gently nipped at your ear lobe. his teeth were awfully sharp.

“please..” you were this close to crying. you don’t take teasing lightly, boothill usually gave you what you wanted. he never, ever said no to you. that doesn’t mean he can’t play games another way. “please, what?” a string of curses slowly slipped out of you. his husky voice only turned you on. he could hear you sniffle.

“‘m sorry, baby. no more games.” you heard his pant unbuckle, you audibly sighed. his belt collapsed to the floor as he carelessly tossed it around. you could tell he was hungry for you, too.

“what does my aeon want from her devotee tonight?”

[neuvistar]

❝ MY STAR, MY DAUGHTER. ❞ signed: boothill . wc. 791

— featuring ┊boothill x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊sfw (lil bit of angst if u squint) . major spoilers abt boothill’s story. girldad boothill girldad boothill!!, established relationships (marriage), mentions of pregnancy, just pure fluffiness which hurts my heart | special tags . @rinneverse @mewnbuns

— a/n ┊this is VERRRRYYYY short n somehow took quite a bit bc readers block was eating my ass but i like how this turned out :3 if i see one more tt abt boothill’s silly (not so silly) backstory i will sob uncontrollably :,)

this was a blessing from the aeons themselves.

you were pregnant, with a daughter.. his kid, his flesh and blood. boothill closed his eyes, fingers gently stroking your belly in slow, comforting circles. you could feel his chest heaving softly, his breaths growing deeper and more laboured, signaling his fading consciousness. your husband’s arm loosened, draping over your belly and chest. “.. baby, thank you for this gift. son of a nice lady, yer fudgin’ strong for carryin’ our baby girl inside of ya.”

boothill was beyond excited, your husband couldn’t believe it.. after all these years, he couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude; he was creating a family, a future together with you, a future he could’ve had with his first daughter he had lost and grieved for years. in his eyes, this was his blessing, his second shot at being a father. your heart ached for your husband. you knew about his past and experiences, he told you many times already.. a story you can’t help hold dear to your heart. for boothill, the little baby girl he lost on that fateful day.. was the day he lost everything. the pain of her absence was immense and left a void that no amount of time could heal, sending him in a spiral of grief that engulfed him wholly.

but yet.. when he heard the news of your pregnancy a few months ago, boothill felt that little spark of light erupt once more with pure joy.. the glow he lost many years ago, returned with a new sense of hope, a new sense of hope for the future he’s always wanted. the joy and excitement he felt was a welcome reprieve from the grief that had consumed his soul for so long, overcoming his deepest regrets. he couldn’t wait for this little rascal to grow, experience the beauty of life herself, explore the world around her with curiosity and wonder.. teaching her about all the things he knew. maybe even tell her about the older sister she could’ve had. boothill wanted to see her smile, dress her up in pretty little princess dresses, help her walk her first steps, he wanted to experience and see it all. all he wanted was to see his daughter grow in-front of his eyes, something he had failed to see with his first.

to boothill, his flesh and blood forming inside of you was his second chance at fatherhood. he promised himself he’d pour all his love and energy into raising the baby with you, seeking a renewed sense of purpose and meaning of a father’s love. “i can’t wait for our little girl to grow up, baby.. m’ gonna be the best daddy ever, i’ll tell ya that.”

“you already are, hun. you already are.”

“heh.. rely on me from now on, ‘kay? ‘gonna protect you and her.” your husband leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving to brush his lips against yours, tenderly.. his thumb forming gentle circles on your belly. “always darlin, always.” boothill smiled crookedly, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. the cyborg leaned in, his forehead still touching yours as spoke softly.. his words destined for the bundle of joy growing within you. "little one," boothill whispered, his voice filled with love. " mommy and i have been talking. both so fudgin’ excited to meet ya. princess, we’ve been workin’ hard to make sure that when ya join us, you'll have everythin’ ya need. ‘going to shower you with love ‘n affection.. promise to be there for ya, to teach ya and guide ya. mama and daddy’re a team, ‘n we'll be the best parents we can be, just for you,”

your husband paused for a moment, allowing the love in his words to resonate before continuing. ".. ‘can't wait t’hear your first cry, ‘feel ya in my arms, kiss your forehead. mama and i love ya more than anythin’ else in this world. so.. for now, jus’ keep growin’ healthy and strong, okay?"

boothill reached over, taking your hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. your husband gazed back up at you, offering you a small smile as he spoke to the little girl, puckering his lips to leave a gentle peck to your belly. “heh.. jus’ so ya know, s’ your daddy, babygirl. can’t wait t’squeeze those chubby cheeks, roll you up in a marshmallow usin’ daddy’s good-old red scarf.. i can’t wait t’love ya. love ya as much as the universe. y’know why, darlin’?” he paused, nuzzling his nose against the warmth of your belly, “because you’re my star, sweetie. the star that lit up mommy and daddy’s life,”

“my star, my daughter.”