#SOMEONES GETTIN FIRED

[adorablest-mutt]

percy jackson is great vause im a craps dealer so this whole episode im just sitting like "propane tanks? Wow i *fill* these for a *living*" so loudly several of my friends had to turn me down

[definitelyjunehomestuck]

i don't get how someone coulda missed that shot

[todayisafridaynight]

everyone's hopping off the corny train but NOT ME because I wasn't corny enough in my last ask smh

Cuz like I'm gonna be so 100% I always worry that I'm being super annoying by sending you so many asks abt literally fuck all GFHDGFD but I do genuinely like chatting and sharing thoughts w/ you + stream squad its honestly the most welcomed I've felt in a fandom in a LONG time and i'll always be grateful for that <3 Like when I first started posting rgg content (after being pretty much dedicated to an entirely different niche for like years beforehand hgfdgfh) I was worried that it'd just flop and I wouldnt have anyone to talk to (I mean besides eso but WHATEVER) so it's really nice having you + co to share brainrot with c: Also know that you are a blast to watch on stream fr like if you were annoying WHY WOULD I BE ATTENDING EACH AND EVERY ONE EVEN AMIDST MY FUCKED SCHEDULE?? dummy 🙄

Also also even if I don't mention it often enough do bare in mind that all your art is hella inspiring to me both drawn and written like your fics are so yummy my guy they have their own little corner in my brain anyways CORNINESS over (for now at least...)

CORNBALL PART TWO 🗣🗣🗣🗣

YOU WERE PLENTY CORNY IN YOUR FIRST ASK DOOFUS WHAT DO YOU MEAAAAAN ill still be happy to read a second round :]]] LIKE YAY im glad i was able to introduce a fun community to you to bond with <3 even if it was 100% by accident and im still surprised i do have a bundle of people regularly stopping by streams And The Ask Box By Now OOP

SPEAKIN A THE ASK BOX THO I LOVE GETTIN ASKS FROM YOU BRO i love talkin bot fuck all.... its like my specialty what... love logging onto a website where i get to do that for free everyday and talk to cool chums in the process....

should still be illegal to say my works are inspirin das fucked up....... ESPECIALLY MY FICS NOOO DONT LOOK AT THOSE

[punkcherries]

watched elemental . pixar treads water ‼

[imagine-you]

won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]

Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.

closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read on AO3

Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.

You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.

Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.

"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.

You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.

"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"

You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.

You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."

"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."

"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.

"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."

Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”

"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.

"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.

Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"

"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.

You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.

"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"

You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.

"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.

No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.

You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.

It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.

If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.

"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.

You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.

Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.

You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.

"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."

You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."

"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."

You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.

"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.

You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.

"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.

"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."

You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.

"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.

"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.

"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.

Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.

You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.

You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.

"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.

"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"

"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."

"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.

"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.

You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.

"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.

"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."

You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.

Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.

Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.

He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.

"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.

"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.

Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.

Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.

Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.

"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.

Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.

"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.

"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.

"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.

"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."

"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.

When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.

Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.

Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.

You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.

You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.

Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.

You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.

"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.

"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.

"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"

You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.

"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.

It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.

"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.

"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.

"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.

"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.

You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.

"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.

You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.

Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.

"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.

Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.

Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.

Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."

"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.

Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.

"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.

"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"

"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.

Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.

You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.

"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.

"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.

"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.

"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.

"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"

"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.

"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"

"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."

"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."

"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.

You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.

When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.

The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.

"I'm in," you found yourself saying.

"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"

"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."

“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”

"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.

"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.

You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.

Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.

He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.

You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.

"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."

You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."

Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.

"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."

"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.

"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."

"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."

You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.

His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."

Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.

You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.

You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.

"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.

You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.

It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.

You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.

"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.

The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.

You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.

Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.

By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.

You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.

"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.

"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.

"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."

Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.

You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."

"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.

This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.

You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.

The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.

You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.

You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.

He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.

You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.

“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.

“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.

The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.

You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.

“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.

Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.

"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.

"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.

"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.

"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."

He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.

But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.

"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.

"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.

You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.

"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.

"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”

"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.

A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.

"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."

“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”

“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”

It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.

You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.

You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.

Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.

Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.

You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.

You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.

You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.

From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.

"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.

You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.

Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!

This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.

[writersdrug]

Mentions of being trapped in burning building

I want to do something with Firefighter!Soap and Librarian!Reader, like you were trapped in the library when it went up in flames, too worried about making sure everyone got to the exit and now you're stuck among the fire, shelves of burning books making you collapse to the ground, but also making your stomach sink from all the lost books...

You pass out from smoke inhalation not long after that, but you come to a short while later, staring at the rubble on the ground as someone carries you from the building, a wide, gloved hand holding you over their shoulder by the small of your back. You hear yelling, and soon you can tell that you've been dragged outside, although your consciousness is teetering on the edge of passing out again.

"Tha's the last one, Cap!" A Scottish accent cries out - you feel yourself being lowered to the ground, soft grass underneath you feeling like a cool cloud compared to the harsh, hot air in the burning library.

"Ye breathin', lass?"

You blink blearily at him, nodding your head. You're coughing your lungs out, but you're breathing.

"Gettin' some oxygen for ye now, princess, jus' take it easy." He rasps - he takes his oxygen mask off and carefully places it over your face. The air flows in, cool and crisp, and your lungs tingle from the pure air.

You look up at him - your vision is blurry without your glasses, but you're able to make out some of his features. Overgrown mohawk, bright, dazzling smile... a bit of a shadow over his chin... he's got the shoulders of a Greek, chiseled masterpiece - broad and firm. You're staring at an angel, the one who pulled you from your death.

"Not leavin' ye, Bonnie." He says, cupping the side of your face. "Not 'til the paramedics get ye. Jus' stay awake for me, aye?"

You're not sure if it's because of the smoke, or because he's knocked you off of your feet, but you promptly pass out on the grass.

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes (non con touching, spanking) / masterlist

The ice cream placates you... for a few minutes.

By the end of the bowl, your skin begins to crawl.

Weak.

They watch you in the lowlight of the kitchen, eyes unwavering, Simon's focused like a laser, Johnny's lazy like the sunset.

Still, each stay steady. Constant.

"The staring is getting old." You mutter in the bowl, spoon clinking against ceramic.

"Jus' making sure ye get enough to eat." Johnny's smile touches his eyes, but your stomach thrashes, unsettled, unnerved.

They kidnapped you, and now they're trying to sweeten you up with ice cream. Like you're a child with a new toy to thwart a tantrum.

There's a single bite left, half melted in the bottom.

"Feel better now?" Simon smirks, and fire sparks to life. Anger, rage boils. Feel better? Do you feel better? Do you feel better, after what they did?

They did this. They did this... to you.

"Fuck you." It's a whisper with your head down, but loud enough to trigger a chair scrape. The sound of someone standing.

"Doe, c'mon now, we only want to protect ye-"

"Johnny." Simon cuts him off, and you glance between both of them. Johnny almost looks sad, mourning in the pools of his eyes, and for a second, you feel bad.

Only for a second.

"Ye dinnae know it now, but we're helping ye. Ye'll see." It's so condescending, and you sneer, eyes narrowed to slits. He doesn't caution himself at the change in your demeanor, the rampant discomfort filling the room, and just when you think he's done talking-

he steps in it. "When ye're done bein' a brat, we'll talk about-"

The ice cream bowl is out of your hand and sailing across the room before your brain even connects what happens. It misses, but the melted strawberry and vanilla splatters across Johnny's face, bowl smashing to pieces on impact as it makes contact with the floor.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Johnny' stares at you, shocked, and then-

Simon is on you. His eyes are murderous and the fear is back, your heart racing, pulse pounding under your chin. His big body corrals you before you even get a chance to get off the stool, and he yanks your wrists forward, heaving you up over his shoulder in one fell swoop.

"No! Get off me! Put me down, put me- let me go!" You scream, twisting and turning, trying to free yourself, only for him to clamp down more, Johnny on his heels.

You've broken down in tears as soon as you get to bedroom, and he throws you on the bed.

He stands at the edge, still as stone. There's no warmth in his expression, no life in his eyes, and you scramble away on your back, knees tucked to your chest.

He grabs your ankle. "Hand or belt." Johnny's lips thin. Your stomach roils.

"W-what?"

"Hand, or belt." You shake your head. "No? Alright." His smile is feral, wild and dark as his belt buckle clangs open.

"No! No, no please." You're shaking. Terrified.

"You're not gettin' out of this. One last chance to make a choice." Oh god. Oh my god.

"Hand... hand." He drags you to the edge of the bed, tugging you across his knees roughly.

"Johnny." He instructs over your head, your eyes blurry with tears, widening when you feel your pants and underwear being pulled down, your ass upturned in cool air.

"No!" you shriek. "No! No, please. I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry." You rock back and forth, desperate, trying to kick, trying to get away.

"'s too late, little doe." Johnny sounds sympathetic, but then his fingers dig into the backs of thighs so hard they hurt. You wail.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You want to be a brat so badly, you can be one. But your behavior will always come with consequences." Simon murmurs, palm rubbing over the swell of your ass. He swats at the fat of your cheeks, and you flinch.

"Please." Your final plea is meek and breathless. It falls on deaf ears.

He doesn't give you warning. The air, shifts, and his hand cuts through it, raining down onto your skin with a violent, open palm slap. You shriek.

"If you count, we'll go to ten. If I count, we'll go to twenty." Your lungs are wet with tears.

"O-one, please, I'm sorry." You try to wriggle again, but Johnny's vice grip stills you. The next spank is just as hard as the first, and you moan. It fucking hurts. "Two." He alternates until he gets to seven, and then the pain starts to turn, changing to a burn, a prickled sensation that floods your blood.

"Almost there." Simon tells you, and you sniffle miserably, tears still streaming down your face.

The eighth is the hardest one yet, and it drags a scream from your throat. Your skin is raw. "Eight."

Nine is even harder. Your muscles hurt from holding yourself so tense, and you hiccup. "Nine."

"Last one. Take a deep breath." You can't. You're frozen, and Simon's fingers stroke the back of your neck. "Take a deep breath, doe." You make an effort, and as soon as your chest expands, the final spank rains down on you, harder than them all, harder enough it steals your breath. "Good job, you're done. No more." He soothes, stroking down your back before squeezing one of your cheeks, the bloom of bruised agony jolting you to your side. Johnny whistles.

"Ye made a mess, little doe. Pain make ye wet, sweet thing?" What? At first, you think he's talking about the giant tear stain on the sheets, and then embarrassment takes over when you think you might have peed yourself-

but when a finger strokes down your folds, you gasp.

You're wet.

You struggle to get away, only resulting in rolling enough that Simon is able to flip you to your back, one hand holding your knee to his chest, the other behind your shoulders, holding you still. It's too rough on your skin, and you shriek, voice cutting out as you feel something damp. There's a wet spot beneath you, and the horrified realization sinks in that you did that, that you're so wet you soaked Simon's pants.

"Don't." You hiss, trying to close your legs, but Johnny forces them wide. "Don't touch me!" He chuckles, knuckle running down your seam.

"I dinnae, ye look like ye need to be touched." You try to shove him away, but Simon bands your arms down against your stomach, his elbow now holding you open. "Was goin' wait for this part, but might as well since ye're ready. Let's take a look at ye." What? The blood drains from your face.

"Tests came back clear." Simon tells him, speaking over you like you're not even there. Johnny nods. What tests? His head cocks. "She'll need a shave." You try to force you legs closed again, struggling, and Johnny's free hand swings-

He slaps your pussy. Your eyes widen in shock.

Your traitorous cunt throbs.

"Be a good girl." He admonishes. "Think we can get the doctor here in the next few days?" You whimper.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Simon's thumb is rubbing circles in your shoulder, like he's trying to comfort you. The fight is draining from your body by the second, replaced by an insatiable hunger for something else. A desire to come.

Johnny presses on your clit, and your hips jerk. He laughs. "There she is, hidin' just under the hood. Sensitive little thing." A finger gently pushes inside you, just a fingertip, and you tremble. "Tight too."

"S-stop."

"No." His grin is wolfish, and he slides farther, deeper, making you gasp. "I think ye want to come, doe." He works a circle around your clit, and you buck involuntarily, legs shaking. Your bladder is full, adding to the pressure, and all of it is unbearable. "C'mon then, let's see this little pussy come. Ye can do it." He coos, not even looking at your face, head down and focused where he's stroking inside you and rubbing your clit.

"I don't I- I hate you, let me g-go." You're panting now, trying to ward off your orgasm, desperate to give into their satisfaction. "Nnngh." You moan, sensibility disappearing by the second. Simon's rock hard underneath you, and he grinds against your ass, the scraping and burning only fueling your climb to the peak. You clench your eyes shut as a hand smoothes over your lower belly, and then pushes.

"Stop!" you shriek. "I have to pee- n-no, stop." Johnny's eyes turn mad, and Simon laughs.

"Dinnae let go, doe. Or ye'll be punished again. Hold it in." You sputter and choke on a groan as Johnny flicks your clit and then strokes it harder, fucking you with his finger just as fast, shoving you into an orgasm that has you screaming, blinding white light behind your eyes.

"Good girl!" Simon praises like you've just scored a goal or gotten an A on a paper, his lips pressing to your forehead. "Just like that, little doe." You ride Johnny's hand, pathetic mewls and moans filling the room until there's nothing left, and you collapse, limp between them.

Everything goes dark.

The world feels fuzzy. Everything feels strange, like you're floating, untethered, gone from this world. The sting of your skin, the burn of the pain takes you somewhere else, and you hardly register being moved to the bed, cool cream being massaged into your skin. They're speaking, but you don't know what's being said, and you can't hold onto consciousness long enough to stay awake. Cool water tips down your throat, and then you slip away, back to the darkness, sleep settling in your bones.

[cryptidofthekeys]

cant wait til i reblog one of those character bingo memes and one day

someone puts a character in my askbox that i am fucking insane and completely unhinged about fhjkdjfhdksl i mean i love the calmness and randomness tbh,, seein characters i didnt think i’d see but im playin with fire here i just know it

jdklsjdfksl and one day y’all are going to have to see a full on atrocity

[darylssunshine]

I need ya.

Summary: Daryl helps you fall asleep after trying to fight it.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 0.7k

Era: Alexandria

A/N: I just really want Daryl cuddles and to fall asleep with him. This is purely self-indulgent.

~~~~~

It was a rare moment of peace in Alexandria. All of the residents were either safe in their houses or fast asleep in their warm beds, a luxury in a world like this. No walkers were breaking through their fortified walls, no enemies were hot on their trail and waiting to strike until morning, nothing coming through the gates to disrupt the silence. The people of Alexandria made themselves known to Rick’s group in a moment of weakness. They accepted them and let them adapt to their way of living, and Rick and the rest of the group would be forever grateful for that, no matter how long it took for them to trust the other group. These four walls separating them from the cruel outside world and provided them with a sense of safety, and Alexandria’s inhabitants had to bask in that whenever they had the chance. 

That’s what was happening now, in the house that held you and Daryl. While the autumn winds pressed on, you two were shielded and warm. A crackling fire lit up the living room while Daryl sat in the corner of the slightly tattered couch, you on his lap. His arm was resting on the subsequent arm of the couch while the other hand was playing with your hair, twirling the strands in his fingertips and occasionally scratching your scalp. Each time he did, it earned a small sigh from you nuzzled against his chest, and then earning a small chuckle from Daryl.

Today had been one of those days where Daryl got more sleep than you did. You had work that had to be done with stocking the food on account of falling behind the day before, and you were beat. The warmth of the fire combined with the warmth radiating from Daryl’s torso was slowly lulling you into a tired state, but Daryl didn’t need to know that. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

“Ya gettin’ tired, sweetheart?”

Shit.

Immediately after those words registered in your sleep-addled brain, you sat up and looked Daryl in the eyes, your own being forcefully widened so he believed your ruse. “Nope. Nope. Not one bit.”

Daryl removed the hand that was previously on your hair and moved it behind his head, slightly looking down on you. He chuckled again. “Ya sure?”

Your mouth quirked up in a smile. “Yep. Wide awake.”

“Mhm. Sure ya are.”

He placed his hand back on your scalp and started massaging it at a slow but consistent pace, his soft, blue eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes on the other hand started to get very heavy, like someone was physically pulling them down, something you couldn’t control. Daryl let out a deep chuckle. “What was tha’ about not bein’ tired?

“Shut up.” You said in a breathy manner, stubbornly still trying to look him in the eyes.

His large hand guided you to his chest again. “Get some sleep, sunshine. I’ll be here when ya wake up. Promise.” His voice was soft, but sincere. You’d believe anything he said in this state.

You nuzzled back into his chest, his words making you smile. “Your chest vibrates when you talk. It’s like a cat purring.” You rambled, your voice coated with tiredness. You said it unconsciously, your filter being almost nonexistent with you being on the verge of sleep. 

He smirked. “Oh yeah? You like it?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to keep talkin’?”

“Mhm.”

He sighed before he continued. “Back before we found ya, I was nothin’. I was tryin’ to deal with all the shit that went down, but I didn’t handle it well. I was a mess, killin’ myself in the process. But you helped me deal with all that. You got me to open up to ya. Every time I see ya, I get like, this feelin’ in my stomach. I know, romance movie bullshit. It’s been happenin’ since the day we found ya in that cabin. And now, I feel like I can’t live without ya. I feel like I’m empty without you, fightin’ by my side. And I’m scared ‘cause that’s never happened before, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I need ya- I- I love ya, (Y/N.)” 

Daryl then heard a soft snore come from below his head. 

He blew some air through his nose in an amused manner and kissed you on the top of the head. “I'll always be there for ya, sunshine.”

[rebelliousstories]

Desperate Times and Desperate Measures

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by @infinityfandoms

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Fighting

Word Count: 1,505

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: She always said she would be about as useful as a wet paper bag in a fight. Good thing she never skips leg day.

Consider Donating: Here

“And who is this? I don’t think audiences have had the pleasure of meeting you yet.” The man in the red mask asked, looking at the woman behind Gambit. She looked up, startled at the sudden attention being brought to her.

“Um, hi.” She offered her name, but was still confused as to what was going on with these new people.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re ‘The Druid’ aren’t you,” Deadpool gasped, “sparkle hands.”

“Sure, I guess if that’s how you want to know me. Haven’t heard anyone call me that in years.” She turned back to her bandages that she was wrapping back up. There were footsteps coming closer to her, but someone stopped them.

“Until I know whatcha gonna be doin’, ya ain’t gettin’ no closer.” Gambit snaps, charging a card near the red masked man.

“Oh, I’m not going to do anything to her. I’m a fan really. From one person with a regenerative healing factor to another, I applaud you, my dear.” Wade clapped his hands together and bowed dramatically. She giggled and set down the bandages, before walking over to Gambit.

“We’re alright, hun. He’s just being friendly.” With a hand on his chest, the man turned and caught her eyes. Letting the energy fizzle out and back into his body, Gambit wrapped an arm around her waist to tug her close.

Later that evening, as they prepared to go to bed in preparation of the big battle the next day, she was checking and double checking her stash. Different salves, elixirs, and dressings were being packed away in her satchel to take with her. As she was placing the last bottles and jars in, hands creeped across her waist and pulled her back into a firm chest.

“Neva’ gonna get tired of seein’ you work like dis, chere. Amazes me each and every time.” Remy drawled, pressing kisses to her neck while she leaned back.

“All to make you guys better, hun.” She replied, loving the feeling of his affections.

“Listen, when we in da lair tomorrow,” he began, “you gonna stay back righ’? Stay in da car?”

“Of course, I am. You know I can’t fight.” Her snort made the man smile as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“Good. Don’t want you gettin’ mixed up in all dat.”

Her hands came in front of them, and both of their attentions were on it. In a matter of a few seconds, a magnolia blossom was blooming from her palm. Taking it from one hand to the next, she passed it back to her lover. He held it to his nose, and breathed in deeply. The sweetest scent flooded his senses. Gambit tucked the flower into the top of his chest plate, right near his heart.

“Everything is gonna be alright, Remy. We’ll be fine.”

Those seem like famous last words now.

She was staying in the background. Behind the car because she was just not going to stay in an on fire car for anything. So far, no one had noticed her and that was just how she liked it. Keeping an eye on her boyfriend and friends, the chaos around them almost made her lose the line of sight.

An explosion next to her gained her attention, and made her squeak in surprise. Thankfully, she was still virtually hidden from the rest of the fighting going on. Locking eyes on Gambit’s coat once more, she was shocked to see someone sneaking up on his. Of course, all the fighting and shouting made the odds more optimal, but it was still an incredible task to do that to him. When he did not seem to be turning and looking at the attacker behind him anytime soon, she knew she had to do something. Looking around her, she tried to find something that would draw both Gambit’s attention to the attacker, and the attacker’s attention away from Gambit.

So she threw a shoe. Some random shoe that had gotten blown off of someone was what she picked up to throw. And somehow, it worked.

“Uh oh. We done messed up now.” She muttered, seeing the new set of eyes on hers. Taking off, she began weaving through the structure. But that man was close behind.

Gambit only noticed when he heard the sound of footsteps running behind him. A card blew up the spot that those feet had stood in the second prior. Taking a look around, he noticed that there was someone now chasing his girl all through the maze of bars that was Cassandra’s lair. Remy took off after the person, while trying to look ahead to see where she was going. Somehow, he remained just out of range for his cards to reach.

Ducking into a corner, she breathed heavily as she tried to catch her breath. A stitch was deep in her side, and her claves were beginning to cramp, but she couldn’t not stop now. Her life, Remy’s life, depended on it. All the noise around them meant that she would not be able to focus on the bad guy’s movements even if she wanted to. Poking her head out of her hole, she breathed a sigh of relief as she did not see him immediately. But that changed when, from the other end of the apparent hallway, he dropped down. She was trapped.

There was nothing that she could use as a weapon nearby, and her powers were defensive; not offensive. Breathing hard, she tried to steel herself against the awful smile that the man was now sporting. A cool metal bar was digging into her back. Her heart was speeding up. If she fell from this height, she would survive, but her bag would not and that was a greater travesty in her opinion. However, she did not have these thoughts long as a flash of magenta flew in front of her and sparked in front of the man.

“Ain’t ya momma eva’ teach ya how t’ treat a lady?” Remy was here. He shot a wink over his shoulder to her, before going after the man. His bo staff was out and charged, but for some reason it did not seem to be slowing this man down. Finally, he got close enough to stick a card to him, that promptly exploded. But as he walked away, this man just got back up and began to heal again.

Gambit groaned, and struck three cards to the ground, before running and grabbing his girlfriend from the railing. As they fell, an aftershock of the explosion knocked them in the air. He tucked her head into his chest, and cushioned their way down. Landing on the hard ground, both of them groaned as pain shot through their bodies.

“You good, chere?” Remy asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was inspecting her face as his hands ran over the rest of her body.

“Yeah. You?” She replied, doing the exact same thing to him.

“Don’ worry about ol’ Gambit now. Gambit’s fine. I want you to go dat little hole in the side over der and stay der till I come get you.” The man pressed a kiss to her head, a brief one to her lips before rolling them over so he was on top. Slipping a card out from his pocket, he flicked it towards someone coming near, before getting up and joining the fray once more.

Once she had caught her breath, she did exactly what Remy had instructed of her. The little cave that she had found herself in allowed her to keep an eye on everybody, but stayed out of the fighting. She knew where her strengths lie, and she was definitely going to be most useful after the fight. As she watched, her mind kept forming different recipes and mixtures that she could use to help.

The fighting slowed until there was just a few people left. As the group finished them off, she stepped out briefly to watch their two friends jump into the glowing circle and away from the Void. As they disappeared, she ran over to her boyfriend and their friends. He welcomed her with open arms, and breathed a sigh of relief as they stood there.

Taking an assessment on her friends, she immediately set to work dressing some of the injuries that they had but could not heal properly. She felt Remy pat her shoulder lovingly as she was wrapping a spot on Elektra’s back. Turning to him, he just drew her in closer before allowing her to tend to wounds he may have gotten. This was a well oiled machine that had been established over the years.

As they piled into the Honda Odyssey after, their journey home was quiet. They did not know if they were going to be able to go home, or if they were stuck there forever. But one thing was for certain; that shoe was going to live in her head for a while.

[grimesgirll]

“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”

your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.

“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.

you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.

“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”

“makes two of us.”

something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”

you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.

playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.

“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”

you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”

your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”

you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.

but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?

and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.

that isn’t everything though.

he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”

“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”

he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”

“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”

“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”

“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.

“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”

“fucker.”

“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.

“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.

the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.

“what’s going on?”

“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.

rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”

“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”

rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”

“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”

you owe the man your life a million times over.

rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.

the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.

the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.

fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.

“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”

“shane.” the man above you warns.

“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”

a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.

“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”

shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”

your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.

rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.

“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.

beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.

“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”

“really?”

you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”

shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.

“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”

you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.

rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.

it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.

you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.

a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.

thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.

“down and up. you know how to do it.”

shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.

“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.

“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.

ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.

the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.

eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.

shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”

you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.

“needy slut,” shane comments.

you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.

rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.

a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.

rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.

“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.

“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.

“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”

shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.

your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.

rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.

“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”

his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.

shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.

“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.

whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;

“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”

[todayisafridaynight]

Snap, ur basically a microceleberty on a tumblr blog. I would be surprised if your inbox WASN'T utter chaos with the amount of fandoms you're in.

dont call me a microcelebrity it's going to do irreparable damage to my ego and im going to become even more insufferable

[silentmoths]

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

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.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[fredwkong]

Hi, I was wondering if i could contact the Himbo Maker by any chance... I'm 28 and I have a pretty demanding job, managing projects and people and I seem not to get any pause, I don't eeven have time or energy to party or go to the gym. I would just like to not have to care about things, i would love for once having someone else think for me and care for me while I just relax and to obey him... oh sorry, i don't know where the word obey came from...

You’ve finally gotten a moment of peace. There are no fires to put out and everyone knows how to do the job they’re supposed to do. Which is why you feel ready to cry when you hear a notification from Slack. But it’s no one that you expect. In fact, you’ve never seen this user before.

Himbo_mkr: Bruh, your lunch is in your locker for after your workout.

You’re only confused for an instant before you remember that it’s time to clock out for lunch. You shut down all your devices and turn off all notifications except from this guy. Your gym time is sacred. Even though the gym around the corner seems unfamiliar at first, you find yourself easily going through a punishing arm day until you receive another notification.

Himbo_mkr: Bruh, I know it’s hard for you to focus, but you can’t be gettin’ horned up at the public gym!

You kinda space out halfway through reading the sentence, distracted by the hardening cock in your loose gym shorts. You close your boring messaging app and start scrolling your twitter feed, full of boys, muscles, and sex. Before long, you’re feeling up your sensitive nipples through your mesh tank top between sets, and you barely notice the next notification.

Himbo_mkr: Bruh, Big Bruh’s waiting in the sauna. Better go give him whatever he wants with those sexy DSLs of yours!

Instantly, you drop your weights and strut toward the sauna, enjoying the feeling of your shorts stretching around your thick ass and fat bulge. Your sexy body was basically designed by your smart Big Bruh. He wants a nice, muscular, stupid Lil Bruh to take care of, and you’re more than happy to follow his instructions! You can't wait to get his load down your throat and be his perfect obedient Bruh.

Want to chat with the Himbo Maker? He loves to twist your words, so be careful what you're asking for.

[moonpascal]

Not Again

summary: spiderman ends up on your fire escape…again

warnings: mentions of blood, 18+ reader and peter parker, language, possibly ooc, lots of dialogue, idk what else

any peter parker x f!reader l wc: 780 (thought it was longer)

a/n: rewrote this at least 20 times and this version i’m at least ok with more than the others. considering it’s been in my drafts forever. still new at writing and suck ass at being descriptive as i want to be. hopefully it’s enjoyable, if so leave a like, comment or reblog <3

“I really am sorry for showing up two nights in a row” Spiderman sighed.  

“Ya sure I bet you are, especially after I told you I don’t have a first aid kit or know jack shit about what I'm doing,” you grumbled. It was too late or too early—who the hell knows. All you knew was that you had work in the morning, and poorly assessing the Spiderman was not on your to-do list. 

Lightly dabbing the washcloth against the exposed areas of the suit, careful not to apply too much pressure, but no matter how delicate you were it didn't take the pain away. 

How he managed to land on your fire escape yesterday and to purposely come again tonight was beyond you. Why couldn’t he land somewhere who was a nurse or owned a damn first aid kit! Even though tonight’s assets are not as roughed up as yesterdays. From what you could see, it seems like he healed a bit.

“Just a tip, but you should learn to dodge when someone is coming at you,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. Being up this early made you delirious when it’s this late at night; anything and everything is funny when it’s two in the morning. He must think you’re pretty funny when he huffs and his shoulders shake a bit before groaning at the movement.

“I got a tip for you and it’s pink.” Heat instantly rushes to your face, the shock evident when you pause. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “That mask confidence really gettin to you, or did you get hit in the head too many times today?”

“Bit of both, I watched this streamer guy and he said it. I’ve been itching to say it.” If he had the mask off you might think he’s smirking at you. But all you get to see is the white lens’s from the suit adjusting looking at you. 

“I’m not surprised, you seem like someone who watches streamers.” He scoffs as you start wringing out the last of the blood from what was a white cloth. There's no point in keeping it now. Sliding out of the dining chair, grabbing the bowl and littered trash accumulated around you guys.

“I do appreciate your help and that I landed on your fire escape.” 

“My sleep says otherwise. How did you end up on mine of all places in the first place?” It’s been running marathons in your head since yesterday's incident. The apartment balcony looked like everyone else’s -plain- and in between levels, not even the top floor. 

“Web snapped, ran out of web fluid last minute,” he shrugged, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Web fluid? Like it comes out of him- eww gross—not even gonna think about it. 

Glancing at the stove, the green glow of the clock saying it was indeed time to go back to bed. Having to be up in a few hours for a stupid meeting, that you didn’t have to be there for only to be the office bitch- which isn’t even your job- but it paid wellish. At least enough to afford this place.  

“I’m glad I could be of assistance spidey, you're welcome to my couch, but I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

He shifts in the chair before slowly standing up gripping his side. He starts limping towards the window, and groans as he opens the stubborn thing. “See you tomorrow night, my guardian angel.”

“No sir, I won’t be here tomorrow night,”you laughed. Turning all the lights off till you got close to him. You could feel his shock just staring at you even if the mask hid his expression. It’s almost too easy to read him like this. 

“And why not?” He questioned with a hint of too much sass. Popping his hip out and placing his hand there. 

“I’m started to suspect you’re getting hurt on purpose to see me,” you copy his pose with just enough dramatics. “Anyways I have a date,” you shrugged. First one in a while at that and a girl has needs that’ll hopefully be fulfilled, but it’s best not to get your hopes up too high. 

“A date? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Yeah if it ends well,” you smirk. He drops his pose before not so gracefully trying to get out the window. 

“Oh yeah makes sense, right well enjoy your date,” he stutters before slamming the window shut, enough to shake the pictures you have hanging on the wall. 

You sigh, latching the lock and trudging back to the comfort of your bed. 

[mykneeshurt]

Interrogation - Keegan P Russ x F!reader x Ghost

As per usual, minimal plot, all porn. Not written well just pure horny thoughts. Thank you once again to @sashadiurnal who helped me with the plot, that I butchered as I’m unable to keep on the straight and narrow. Tee hee

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, praise kink, degradation, p in v, p in a, DP, f oral receiving, m oral receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, breath play (goes without saying this is fiction, in real life we wrap willies, love consent, love safe words and aftercare!)

‘Get your fuckin hands off me!’ You spat as you were thrown down into a chair. Your vision was obscured by a foul smelling bag, no doubt used on countless others. Your hands were cuffed in front you, the cold sting of the metal bit into your wrists.

The bag was ripped from your head as a blinding light filled your field of vision. Hissing you held your hands to your eyes, trying to ease yourself into the white light of the room. Lowering your hands two figures slowly came into focus. Once you recognised them a fire was set alight in your core. Sergeant Keegan P Russ and the Lieutenant known only as Ghost.

‘Long time no see boys. It’s a pleasure as always’ you sneered. You were sat on a metal chair in what looked like a small office. You didn’t know every nook and cranny of your base, so assumed it was in one of the wings you didn’t normally frequent.

They stood in front of you, Keegan with his hands on his hips, dressed head to toe in white camouflage. Ghost dressed in the same but with a black balaclava where a white skull adorned the front. He had his arms crossed, biceps bulging as he took in your form. You’d managed to avoid them for a decent amount of time, but looks like your time had finally run out.

‘Where’s the launch codes for the missiles’ Keegan asked, his hands tensed over his hips. ‘What launch codes?’ You smirked, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Don’t fuck about. That launch codes. Where are they?’ Ghost asked, his voice filled with frustration. ‘Aww big bad Ghosts couldn’t get through my security system?’ You pouted, trying to give your best doe eyed glare. ‘Ask me nicely, maybe I’ll give em to you.’

Keegan walked around the table, menacingly. Hands still firmly resting on his hips, they swayed as he made his way over to you. ‘No, you’ll give them to us, we can be very persuasive.’ You raised an eyebrow, biting your lip, ‘you know it’s not torture if I like it Russ.’ His eyes narrowed at your remark as he lowered his face dangerously close to yours, ‘give us the fuckin codes Vesper.’

‘Make me Russ’ you whispered, a smirk tugging on the corner of your lips.

Grabbing your shoulders he lifted your body and threw you into the wall in one swift motion. Your body hit the wall with a thud, a low moan escaped your chest. Keegan stood you up and pressed his forearm onto your throat. His azure eyes cut into you as you bit your cheek. He pressed harder into your throat. ‘Fuck, don’t tempt me with a good time Russ’ you managed to choke out.

‘Tryin my patience’ Ghost barked from the background. Pulling your eyes from Keegans you locked onto Ghost, clenching your thighs together at the pool of arousal that gathered in your panties. Ghost dropped his eyes, noticing the minuscule movement. His eyes widened in realisation ‘shes fucking gettin off of this.’ Smiling at his revelation you once again met Keegans stare. ‘I think someone’s feeling left out Russ. You might need to share.’

Pulling you taught against his body he moved you over to the table, slamming your torso down onto the cold surface. Your cuffed hands barely broke your fall. Keegan laced his fingers through your hair pulling your neck until you rest against him. ‘Wanna play that game? Fine. Guess I’ll fuck it out of you instead’ he growled into your ear. A devilish giggle dripped from your lips as you pushed your ass into him.

Keegan motioned to Ghost to come over, the 6’4 Adonis stalked his way over to the table. Keegan lifted you by the collar of your shirt and pushed you into Ghost. Pulling your cuffs he placed your arms over his neck, forcing you onto your toes. Ghosts heavy, dead eyes bore into yours as your breathing picked up a notch.

Keegan wrapped his hands around your waist and found your belt, pulling it out of the belt loops with a ‘thwack.’ Undoing your button he slowly worked your trousers down, resting just beneath the crease of your ass. Keegan lowered his mouth to your ear, nipping it slightly ‘eyes on Ghost, don’t look away.’ Your thighs clenched again.

Keegan caressed the supple skin underneath your panties, considering how much he hated you, it was a tender touch. The slap of leather on leather filled the room, excitement shone in your eyes. Ghost pulled you closer to him and held your hips, arching your back.

A heavy slap rang out in the small office, as Keegan swatted your ass cheeks with your belt. A breathy moan fell from your mouth as you fought to keep your eyes on Ghost. Three more slaps to your ass made you dance the dangerously thin line between pain and pleasure. A crimson line decorated your cheeks, Keegan massaged it softly ‘that’s it, fuckin take it.’

Your eyebrows furrowed together, your pussy now weeping with arousal. ‘Not gonna kiss me?’ You whispered to Ghost, ‘not very hospitable of you.’ Ghost trailed his hand up your back, as Keegan pulled your panties down. Gripping your hair Ghost pulled your head, allowing him access to your neck. He planted masked kisses along your skin, and onto your jaw.

You flinched at the sudden intrusion of Keegans fingers along your slit. He gathered your juices on his fingers before placing them in your mouth. You twirled your tongue around his fingers moaning at the taste of yourself. ‘Fuckin hell’ Ghost whispered into your neck. Keegan returned to his position behind you, this time inserting his middle and ring finger into your cunt. Pumping it slowly, before building a punishing pace. The wet sound of your pussy made their cocks stiffen.

Ghost pulled his mark up slightly finally giving in and kissing you. He tasted yourself on your lips, he groaned at the taste. Nipping your lip he pulled back, ‘she tastes so fuckin good’ he drawled. Keegan grunted in acknowledgement, too busy listening to the sound of your cunt around his fingers. You flopped your head into Ghosts chest, lost in the maze of pleasure, you moaned and writhed from the sensations.

Keegan readjusted his fingers, using his index and middle finger in your pussy. This time easing his ring finger into your tight ass hole. A slurred moan erupted from the pit of your chest. You rolled your hips back into his fingers, pleading for more. ‘Such a filthy little bitch’ Keegan scolded ‘so needy for our cocks aren’t you.’

‘Yes … fuck, yes’ you whimpered.

Removing his fingers he then lifted your aching arms from around Ghosts neck. He moved you back to the table lying you on your back. Ghost stood by your head, which was conveniently level with his throbbing cock. Keegan buried his face in your cunt, savouring your taste agains his tongue. Your eyes rolled the back of your head as Ghost tapped his cock on your lips. He was thick, your eyes momentarily widening at the girth. A dark chuckle exuded from him, he leant down and whispered against your lips ‘you’re gonna take my cock and you’re gonna fuckin choke on it.’

Opening your mouth he thrust his cock in your mouth, his girth filling you entirely. He was unforgiving. Relentless. He watched as your throat stretched for him, eyes watering and gagging around him. Pulling out he slapped your cheek, ‘that’s it, good girl, such a good little slut.’ You bucked your hips at his words, causing Keegan to release a guttural moan into your pussy.

Not being able to take anymore Keegan stood and pulled down his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock. He pumped himself as he watched Ghost abuse your throat, your body writhing, desperate for Keegan to fill you. He lined himself up before pushing his cock in, inch by inch. You moaned around Ghosts cock as Keegan filled your creamy cunt. Keegan struck your clit with the tips of his fingers, as he did Ghost pulled out allowing you to finally breath.

A borderline pornographic moan filled the room, your back arched off the table as you squeezed your eyes shut. Ghost slapped your face again, before ramming his cock once more into your tiny throat. He watched as his cock bulged in your throat, trying to accommodate his girth.

Keegans pace was brutal, he hitched your thighs around his slutty little waist as he thrust into you. ‘Feels so fuckin good, so fuckin good’ he was breathless ‘such a whore, taking this cock so well.’ The mixture of praise and degradation kept your head spinning. His fingertips assaulted your hips, surely causing bruises. The thought of him marking you only made you more wet. Keegan threw his head back, eyes rolling as your cunt clenched around him. ‘She’s so tight’ he whimpered.

Ghost pulled out, pushing you back to a standing position, this time hooking your arms over Keegans neck. Keegan lifted you from the table, your legs still wrapped around his waist. This time keegan leant into your lips, kissing you, chasing your tongue with his. Ghost came behind you, pressing body against yours, sandwiching you between them.

Keegan still thrusted into your abused cunt as Ghost lined himself up to take your ass. He leant down placing a kiss on your cheek before spitting onto your tight hole. He pushed in slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Keegan inhaled your moan as Ghost stretched out your ass, the two of them began moving in tandem.

You dropped your head back onto Ghosts shoulder, completely blissed out at your holes being stretched, abused, assaulted. ‘Look at her’ Ghost marvelled, ‘taking two cocks at once, fucking whore.’

‘Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop, please’ you begged. Ghost snakes a hand around your neck, squeezing it until your face went red.

You felt the pressure building, rapidly. ‘Make me cum, please, fuck I wanna cum’ you sobbed, your body was overstimulated but begging for release. Keegan pulled you back to his lips, nipping your them as he kissed you. ‘Gonna cum in this tight ass of yours’ Ghost grunted from behind you.

‘Please, please, please’ you babbled into Keegans neck.

Ghost gripped your hips like a vice as he came, a deep breathless moan danced over your shoulder. He pulled out leaving you feeling suddenly very empty. Keegan placed you back on the table, picking up his pace, slapping your clit once more. ‘Take it Keegan, please’ you whimpered, bucking your hips and arching your back. He leant forward placing his forearms either side of your head. He stared into your eyes as he came moments later, his cock shooting hot ribbons of cum into your cunt.

You came not long after, the coil finally snapping. Beads of sweat coated your forehead and you tried to catch your breath. You could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, part of you wanted him to fuck it back in. Keegan placed a kiss to your cheek, ‘codes.’