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fanaticsnail · 2 days

Note

Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma.

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others.

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.”

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness.

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?”

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you.

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace.

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.”

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.”

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again.

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours.

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips.

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?”

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud.

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you.

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty.

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture.

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward.

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone.

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh.

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

#one piece #x reader #roronoa zoro #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #one piece drabbles #gn!reader #kid x reader #zoro x reader #killer x reader #op drabbles #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece x you #one piece fluff #ask snail #snail answers

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wondernus · 2 days

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— WHY HIM?

SYNOPSIS: armed and ready at 4am, you approach your locked front door to confront the group of loud strangers trying to break into your apartment

PAIRING: fiancé!lsm x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor

TAGS: food mention, inebriated characters, post-bachelor party, brother!hvc

WC: 1.75k

MESSAGE FROM NU: hii long time no see :3 posting a dk oneshot to let you know i'm procrastinating on my final paper draft by drafting a hefty dk soulmate au i've been thinking about writing for a while. also dedicating this fic to @wongyuseokie the la to my ma

A perfectly peaceful Friday night goes to waste when you shoot up from your bed in a panicked state. It’s not the usual cat wanting to leave your room at five in the morning kind of scratching sound that lures you to open your bedroom door in a half-awake state. Instead, shuffling sounds out front and an insistent metal-to-metal sound, which you can only infer as someone trying to break into your apartment, cause you to become extremely vigilant.

Seokmin isn’t picking up his phone, but you keep his line ringing just in case he does. Doubtful that a pair of scissors can do as much damage to the head as a giant wok can, you head into the kitchen to pick up that giant carbon steel wok that you can never seem to fit into any of your kitchen drawers as a form of physical backup before you quietly approach your front door.

However, the fear that once overwhelms your body soon turns into a sigh of exasperation before you can even position yourself to look through the tiny peephole. You can clearly hear the familiar voices on the other side of the door and match each voice to its respective owner. Feeling relieved, you drop the wok on the cubby by the door and hang up the phone.

“Look, I opened it,” the man who was trying to open your door slurs with a dopey smile on his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s talking to anybody in particular. “I’m a fucking genius.”

Almost immediately after that statement, he falls forward and faceplants a couple centimeters away from your indoor slippers. Slumped to the side of his face is his hand that holds a small metal keychain between the thumb and index fingers. It’s a souvenir nameplate keychain from a family trip to another country a few years back whose design reads “Vernon” in all caps. You realize that the man near your feet didn’t even try opening the door with the key.

The actual owner of the set of keys lies on his left side while his entire body is propped against the bushes in front of your place. His legs are still surprisingly in a crisscross position, but you think it’s because his jeans restrict him from being able to unravel from the position. And when you see earbuds plugged up your brother’s nose while his mouth acts as some sort of impromptu speaker for whatever song he has playing through his earbuds, you consider the option of leaving him outside for the rest of the night. What’s even worse is that Joshua, although a little out of it, sits next to his younger friend and bobs his head to the music while lethargically reaching into his brown paper bag on his lap to grab some greasy fries. You think your brother is asleep, but you don’t know if him becoming a speaker happened pre-knocking out or post-knocking out.

“Do I want to ask why you guys are trying to break into my place at 4 a.m. in the morning or should I be concerned that only half of you guys are here?”

“Actually.” the man underneath you groans while he slowly gathers enough strength to sit upright. There is a nasty red mark on the side of his face that he doesn’t seem to know of and mind. “Saying ‘4 a.m. in the morning’ is redundant.” He points at nobody in particular with the same hand holding your brother’s set of keys and stares past your calves. “Since you’re sober enough to be smart with me, I need your help dragging Vern and Shua into my place before the neighbors wake up and call neighborhood watch,” you gruff before stepping out of your house slippers into the sandals you keep near the door.

It turns out that there are more people scattered about the front of your place.

There is a car parallel parked against the sidewalk with what looks like two people in the car. Someone picks themself off the small grassy lawn on the other side of the bushes and trudges towards the car while pinching their temple.

Wonwoo nods at you when he passes by looking completely sober. Yet, for somebody who usually looks well-put-together, his hair is a mess while the top few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned…no, missing. What remains are the threads that once attached the buttons to the dress shirt. You notice that he grips three different neckties in his hand but still his loose around his neck. Nevertheless, Wonwoo kicks off his dress shoes, steps over Jeonghan, enters your front door without saying a word, and knocks out on your sofa before his legs can make it onto the cushions.

You turn back to your brother. Joshua wipes his fingers on his pants before he squats on the other side of Vernon to help him up.

“Up,” you tell the both of them.

“I can’t breathe,” Vernon whines while allowing the both of you to help him stand. “My nose isn’t working.”

You sigh and yank the wired earbuds by their cords and out of his nostrils and let them drop before the older man helps his friend into your place. Bending down to grab the bag of fries that Joshua forgot, you see a disturbing amount of hair poking through the crevices of the leafy bush. Someone was dumb enough to black out in the bushes and you can’t tell who it is even after peering over the bush to look at the other half of the body.

“Jeonghan,” you hiss at the man who is trying to discreetly walk back to the car.

He looks back at you and mouths “what” while shrugging his shoulders.

You point at the head in the bush.

“It's Jihoon,” he snorts. He takes the paper bag from your hand and walks back to drop it in the wok that you put to the side before walking back to you. “I think he was supposed to give Vernon his keys but tripped and never got back up. Come to the car with me.”

“Why are you guys here?” you whispered. “I thought that you guys had the entire night planned out.”

“We had the entire night planned out. But then DK started crying and we had to end it early because he wouldn’t stop crying. And then all of us sobered up to try to help him but then it just worsened, so we drove here to get you to get him to stop crying. Some of us couldn’t deal with not being able to solve his problem and just started drinking again.”

“Is that why Jihoon is in the bushes?”

“Well, he never was the patient type,” he hums.

A quick look into the car immediately gets you to understand why someone like Jihoon would end up so drunk that he would dive headfirst into some bushes.

There are dozens of used tissues balled up and overflowing in the tiny hanging trashcan attached to the back of the passenger seat in Wonwoo’s car. There are a few in the laps of the two men sobbing next to each other in the backseats, and you make a mental note to help Wonwoo sanitize the inside of his car before he drives away in the afternoon. Seungcheol releases Seokmin’s seatbelt and looks at you with an apologetic smile on his face.

In all of the years you’ve come to know Seokmin, you have never seen his eyes this puffy.

“Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced. That must have scared you. There was a lot going on,” Seungcheol murmurs to you while giving you a quick hug. “We were making toasts to his future during the party until Vernon made a comment.”

“What did he say?” you asked him, shocked that your brother could even make a comment that would bring your fiancé to such a state.

“It wasn’t bad.” Seungcheol stepped aside from the open car door to let you squat next to your lover. “He just congratulated you on getting married but this dumbass took it the wrong way because he didn't mention Donkey Kong over here in the sentence and thinks you’re getting married to someone else.”

“Someone else!” Seokmin chokes out in a sob while slumped over on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why him? Why not me?”

You grab a tissue from the tissue box on the center console and dab at your future husband’s face. The traces of his tears wet the thin paper, and you can feel the heat of his skin through the tissue. With the same hand, you push the bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyelids to the side. You don’t mind that he doesn’t seem to know that you’re there taking care of him.

“Aww baby,” you coo. “I’ll get married to you, don’t worry.”

The familiarity of your comfort seems to lure your fiancé to sleep. A little further from you, Soonyoung continues to sniffle while his eyes are closed. You turn to Seungcheol and Jeonghan with your mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together.

“He’s a drunk crier…” Jeonghan’s words doesn’t leave you guessing anything. “And also Minghao opened his mouth during the bachelor party.” He scratches the back of his head as a sign of stress and embarrassment before looking at Seungcheol and cocking his head at the two knocked out in the car.

Jeonghan has the easier job of coaxing Soonyoung awake to walk him into your place. Seungcheol, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to swing the entire weight of your limp boyfriend like a large sack of rice over his shoulder.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” you ask him.

You don’t know what time it is anymore. The sky is getting brighter, and the temperature is warming up. Your partner looks finally peaceful in his sleep.

“Nah.” Seungcheol softly brushes your request aside. “We’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”

“I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” you joke while trailing behind Seungcheol just in case he needed any help readjusting the body.

“You don’t have to apologize for him.” His words are sincere. “He loves you, you know. He cried his heart out just because he loves you. There’s nothing to apologize for. To be loved is to be cared for. Go back to bed, we’ll probably wake up around dinner time.”

“Do you think anybody grabbed Jihoon?”

#seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seokmin imagines #seokmin fluff #svthub #seokmin x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #dk imagines #dk fluff #dk x reader #wondernus imagines

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teojira · 3 days

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I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

#can you tell im up his ass #Optimus is one of my top 5 characters ever i am married to him actually #transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #gender neutral reader #teddy loves bots ☆#optimus prime #transformers knightverse #tf knightverse #Optimus x reader

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thatdeadaquarius · 2 days

Text

Soon.

☆

With a puzzled squint, you could see the adeptus was running over what you said in his mind, trying to parse out the meaning. Xiao then threw his head up out of his slight bow, almost glaring at you, “There is no task nor person more important than guarding you, my Lord. I will stand guard, worry not about my state.”

Nodding to you, he abruptly turned on his heel to shift to the side of the entrance to the mansion, his spear tall and ready. You’d have twitched a smile at him if you could, as you're sure he’s gotten a little more comfortable with you than when you first officially met. You’re also sure from meeting Zhongli just once in person that he’d have a small heart attack if he saw some of Xiao’s informal behavior.

But you’re glad he hasn’t, the more relaxed they are, especially considering your form, the better.

You duck inside, though the ceilings are so raised that you don’t have to go that low surprisingly. Huh, it was nice to be anticipated in a building usually sized for human heights. Wow. You’ve really reached the point of casually calling yourself inhuman.

…well, to be real with yourself right now, it might actually help to get more accustomed to that in case you’re never human again.

You also put that possibility back into the vault at the back of your mind.

☆

HEY I live, again,

I had a big life update what with my sib graduating grad school (getting their masters degree) at the same time we both moved like 2 states over from our home state 😅

and unfortunately, i wasnt able to get my monster of a sequel out in time to post it remotely to get it out to you guys while i was afk

(as i havent had wifi/free time consistently in like 2-3 weeks)

which, phew, im finally able to be settled in one place enough to write again, and have enough time in the day to not be dealing wiht my apartment to write ToT

i hope you guys arent too mad at me! (or have forgotten me?? sobs)

also.

i hear Natlan's coming out. 👀

I don't think it'll be out before i post the full (3 chapters total planned) sequel, but just in case, disclaimer-

🪄I am not to be held liable for not writing about Natlan bc it wasnt out yet woooo🪄

anyway, yeah its also taking a bit bc i wanna post the completed thing all in one go, over the course of like 3 days or so, that way u guys can actually look forward to the next little chapter in a reasonable amount of time lmao

well yknow, if anyones still reading this or my blog lol

happy summer you guys! I hope u all are having a good one so far, esp those of you in school, heart going out to yall fr <33

Catch you on the flip side (ao3 side?)✌️

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@karmascreeches / @yomilyy / @0rah-s / @idontknowwhatimdoingbutweball / @blackstar-gazer / @voidsgarden / @a-gay-piece-of-paper / @oxyotl / @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback / @kurayamioterasu / @randompersoninyourworld / @byakuren100 / @lemonade7255

#genshin sagau #genshin isekai #sagau #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #aqua rambles #aqua crumbs #tis the official tag now for little snippets of writings of wips #god whenever i write eldritch au it always turns out like 2x the word count sorry guys /gen #:')#otherwise this would be out by now ffs #sagau eldritch au #sagau eldritch god reader

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mysticstarlightduck · 3 days

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Late Writeblr Intro!

Hello, friends!

I figured it was about time I made an actual blog intro of my own since I forgot to make one when I started this blog last year. Better late than never, lmao!

Pls, reblog, like, and/or reply to help boost the blog! 💕

Let's get started:

Personal Stuff! 💜🩶🖤

My name is Anna/Anya but you can call me Mystic, Ducky, or just Anya on this blog! My personal nickname is Ani and I adore it (:

I am an Asexual woman (my pronouns are she/her!) and I'm also personally an atheist who puts my faith in the spirits of Mother Nature, though I respect all other religions equally!

I'm Gen Z and Latina (Brazilian). I was raised bilingual (Brazilian Portuguese + English) and I love learning languages - currently, I'm working on learning French and Spanish! Career-wise I am studying in college to become a character designer and hopefully animator, as I want to pursue a career as an artist and writer! I also wish to have my WIPs published in the near future (:

Some fun facts about me!

My favorite shows are Critical Role, Game of Thrones, Castlevania, The Legend of Vox Machina (animated series), Star Wars, Voltron, The Dragon Prince, Avatar the Last Airbender, Legend of Korra, and DC Comics content, as well as many more lmao. I love watching movies and series!

My favorite Vox Machina characters are Vax'ildan and Percy (:

I am a younger sister 💖

My hair is short and curly (pixie style, similar to the haircut Rapunzel has at the end of the Tangled movie!)

I adore listening to music, especially songs that can inspire me to write my WIPs! Playlists are a huge part of my writing process and something I really enjoy making.

I'm currently rereading Shadow and Bone (+ Six of Crows) and I am always looking for more good dark fantasy/historical fantasy books to read so book recs are always welcome! I also am a huge fan of the Percy Jackson series and Trials of Apollo (by Rick Riordan), though I'm usually more of a gritty/dark fantasy fan (like Game of Thrones)!

I have three dogs and two cats!😺🐶

I know how to play the piano, though I haven't done that in a while because things have been chaotic for me, but I'd like to start playing regularly again in my winter vacation.

I have worn glasses since I was 5 years old and have terrible eyesight without them (and some days with them, lol, so bear with me).

My friends and I are doing a DnD campaign every Sunday, where I play as a half-elf rogue named Aeryn (he/him). I'm adoring this adventure so far, it's so fun!!!

I love to bake and am rather good at it, but am a painfully average cook lmao (some specific recipes I make are actually rlly good, but it depends a lot on my mood and the 'alignment of the stars' lol)

I want to learn how to knit/crochet! 🧶

I'm a theater nerd and love musicals (:

About my Writing!🏹⌛

I write fictional works mostly in the genre of fantasy (high fantasy/epic fantasy/dark fantasy/historical fantasy/urban fantasy, etc. You name it!) and science fiction (space opera/cyberpunk/superhero, etc).

My works usually revolve around themes such as epic quests, secrets, adventure, rebels fighting an oppressive system, sibling bonds, acceptance/respect, outcasts, and much, much more! I love fluff and whump equally, and though my stories tend to focus on serious topics (or at least darker/heavier themes) within a fantasy/sci-fi setting, I like to have a good bit of humor, lighthearted fun, and comedy to my stories to lighten up the mood!

My main WIPs:

Song of Thorns

🌹WIP Intro: (here)🌹

Genre: dark fantasy, medieval fantasy, adventure/mystery, dark fairytale, eldritch horror (mild)

Style: Standalone (possible Trilogy)

Tags: #wip song of thorns #song of thorns

Short Summary/About: "A peasant girl moves with her siblings from her struggling seaside village to the kingdom's glittering floating capital, but after her older brother is kidnapped, she ends up discovering the dark, bloody secrets hiding behind the long-lasting royal family of the town and must team up with a young dhampir thief, the exiled prince, and a lonely druid girl to save the dying kingdom from this web of lies".

Supernova Initiative

🎇WIP Intro: to be made... 🎇

Genre: space opera, adventure, exploration, laboratory whump, heist, thriller/mystery

Style: Episodic book series with an overarching plot (each chapter/group of chapters equivalent to an episode in a TV series)

Tags: #wip supernova initiative #supernova initiative

Short Summary/About: "A young intergalactic thief and his crew are captured after a heist gone wrong and forced to accept a strange deal - complete a mission for the Junction, retrieve important missing files, and get their freedom back. All the while that is happening, Jack Tithus, the protagonist, finds himself trapped as a test subject to an immoral, and elusive, man known as the Director."

Enchanted Illusions

💀 WIP Intro: (here)💀

Genre: Victorian fantasy, adventure, mystery, gothic fantasy, dark fantasy, crime-solving

Style: Possibly a trilogy

Tags: #wip enchanted illusions, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "On a magical setting inspired by Victorian times, a group of strangers and outcasts must work together to thwart a powerful secret organization and stop a murder spree that could lead to another civil war between myths and humans."

Of Starlight and Beasts

✨⚔️WIP Intro: (here)⚔️✨

Genre: medieval fantasy, epic fantasy, adventure/quest, dark fairytale, sword and sorcery, prophecies

Style: Book Series

Tags: #wip of starlight and beasts, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "A young knight in training and an amnesiac star mage embark on a quest to prevent an ancient prophecy from coming to fruition as a vengeful sorceress queen's army marches relentlessly onto their land with the intent to destroy all their kingdom has built."

The Last Wrath

🔥⚔️WIP Intro: to be made...⚔️🔥

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, political intrigue, espionage, adventure/quest, medieval fantasy, whump

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip the last wrath, #the last wrath

Short Summary/About: "In a land torn by an ancient war between two sides of a continent, a mageborn girl finds herself trapped amid the bloodshed after her past comes back to haunt her and her family. Now, stopping the war may be the only chance she still has to survive."

Tales of Wilted Flowers

🥀WIP Intro: to be made...🪻

Genre: RPG-inspired fantasy, high fantasy, adventure, fairytale, epic quest, heist story, whump, light fantasy

Style: Trilogy (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip tales of wilted flowers #tales of wilted flowers

Short Summary/About - "A group of youths rejected and betrayed by society in many different ways come together due to unexpected circumstances and must rely on each other to prevent the kingdom's corrupt Head Sorcerer and the King from reviving an ancient evil."

Realms of Loss

🍂WIP Intro: (here)🍂

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, medieval fantasy, high fantasy, ancient times fantasy, Viking-inspired, prophecies & curses

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip realms of loss #realms of loss

Short Summary/About - "In a continent destroyed by the fall of the Old Gods, and trapped in an endless toil for survival, a cocky young prince discovers his role in an ancient prophecy after his brother, the King, is murdered and assassins come for him too. Running away into the forsaken land beyond the walls of his kingdom, he'll have to learn to be a leader and save his people as a dead, murderous God awakens."

Mutant Inquiries/Open Secret Files

🤖 WIP Intro: to be made..🤖

Genre: superhero, cyberpunk, futuristic, dystopian, science fiction, urban fantasy

Style: Episodic Series, still in development

Tags: #wip mutant inquiries #wip open secret files #mutant inquiries #open secret files

Short Summary/About: "In a dystopian, high-tech future, a group of mutant teenagers become vigilantes and crime fighters to rebel against the oppressive government regime and survive their crime-ridden city."

I have a few other smaller-scale WIPs I occasionally, less frequently work on, such as Lies Untold and Jade Ruins, but those up above are the main ones that I wish to publish. I've also got a big, secret extra WIP I'm working on for fun and will share it with you guys soon!

#writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr intro #blog intro #wip intro #writeblr #writing #writerblr #my wips #character writing #writing community #writers of tumblr

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talialovesmiw · 3 days

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You make everything better. (Ricky “Horror” Olson x Reader)

A/N: Felt like writing some fluff for Ricky today. Enjoy <3

Warnings: Language, light angst and fluff

Taglist: Tag List: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86 @tearfallpixie @vinyardmauro @thatchickwiththecamera @bloody-delusion-expert @th0ughts-pr4yers @zuberweirrd @bxrnthyfears @yournecessaryevil @arkiliastuff @abiomens

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was another long day at work. Customers were jerks and I didn’t even get to go on my lunch break today. I was exhausted and hungry.

I trudge my way out of the mall and into the parking lot. I find my car and get in. I let my head rest on the steering wheel as I let out a groan mixed with frustration and exhaustion. I run a hand through my hair with a sigh and start the car.

The drive home wasn’t easy. People drove like morons and some idiot almost side swiped me. It seemed my bad day was only getting worse.

Finally, I arrive home and pull into the driveway. Ricky was still at the studio with the guys and wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours. I turn off the car and grab my purse and get out of my car. I walk up to the door and dig in my purse for my keys.

“Damn it, where are they?” I grumble, getting more annoyed as I can’t find my keys. “Fuck, come on!”

Eventually after some digging, I find my keys and unlock the door. I get in and throw my bag to the side. I go to the couch and sit, soon to slump against it.

I was tired.

Mentally, and physically tired.

I could feel tears prick my eyes as I hugged one of the pillows. Today was a rough day, and all I wanted to do was cry.

So, that’s what I did. I let the tears run down my face as I hugged the pillow closer, shoving my face into it. I wished it was Ricky. Ricky always made everything better.

But he wasn’t here. He was working. All I wanted was for him to comfort me, and I couldn’t have that. Not for a couple of hours. Now I was sobbing.

I don’t know how long I was crying, but I heard the front door open. I didn’t bother to acknowledge whoever it was, I really didn’t give a damn. I just hug the pillow and keep my head down as I hear the sound of footsteps. I had cried so much that my voice was tired.

“Sweetheart? You home?” Ricky’s voice calls as he gets closer. I don’t answer.

Ricky finally approaches me, and frowns when he finds me like this. He crouches down to my level and gently takes my face.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asks softly, his voice filled with worry.

“Bad day…really bad day..” I mutter, my voice on the verge of cracking.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head in response. Ricky nods. “That’s perfectly okay. Have you eaten yet?”

Shit. Ricky hated whenever I didn’t get the chance to eat. I gulp and look away. Ricky frowns again.

“I’m going to take that as a no.” He says with a sigh, then places his hand on my leg. “You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“Not hungry..” I mumble. That was a lie. I was starving, but I didn’t want to get up and eat.

“Uh uh. We’re not doing that. You need to eat.” Ricky stands. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna go take a nice shower while I make food, change into comfy clothes and then we’re gonna have a movie marathon on the couch. I’m not letting you be sad.”

That actually sounded pretty nice. I nod and sit up, rubbing my eyes. Ricky extends his hand and I take it as he helps me up. He walks with me to the bathroom and places his hands on my shoulders.

“Just relax, okay? Take your time while I cook pasta. I know it’s your favorite.”

My eyes light up a little. “Thanks Rick..”

Ricky smiles and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Of course baby, you deserve the best. Now go shower, okay?”

“Mhm..”

Ricky pulls away and leaves the bathroom so I can shower. I undress and turn on the shower. I end up taking a nice, long everything shower using all of my favorite smelling products. It made me feel a bit better.

I step out of the shower in my towel and walk into the bedroom. I put on my favorite body lotion and put my hair in a jaw clip. I change into comfy clothes and leave the bedroom.

When I walk into the kitchen, the smell of cooked pasta greets me. Ricky was almost done. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his torso, nuzzling my face into his back. Ricky turns his head and looks down at me with a smile.

“Hey beautiful. Have a nice shower?”

“Mhm…”

“Good. Dinner’s ready, go sit.”

I nod and let go of Ricky, a little sad to let go due to him being so warm, and smelling good too. I go to sit at the table.

Ricky plates the pasta and walks over, setting a plate down in front of me. I pick up my fork and waste no time devouring my pasta.

Ricky smiles as he watches me eat. “So much for not being hungry, huh?” I hum in response as I finish my first plate. I happily get up to grab another.

“You always make it just the way I like it, thank you.” I say as I sit back down, picking my fork up again and eating.

“It’s no trouble, really. I knew it would make you happy. It’s easy to make as well.”

We finish eating and Ricky sets the dishes aside in the sink, saving them for later. He grabs my hand and leads me over to the couch. He pulls me with him to cuddle. He sits me in his lap and wraps his arms around me. I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, Rick..” I say softly as he turns on the tv.

“I wanted to, baby. I never want to see you sad.” Ricky says as he settles on a movie, sets the remote down, and pets my hair. “It makes me sad seeing you upset.”

I nestle into him, nuzzling my face into his tattooed neck. “You always know what to say, and how to make me feel better. I love you..”

Ricky presses a kiss into my hair and pulls me closer. “I love you too, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.”

“You’re the best.”

We spend the rest of the night cuddling on the couch and watching movies until I end up falling asleep. Ricky carries me into our shared bedroom and lays me down on the bed. He pulls the covers over me and kisses my forehead. He lays on his side and wraps an arm over me. It isn’t long until he’s asleep as well.

He always made everything better.

#miw band #motionless in white #miw #ricky horror x reader #ricky olson x reader #rickyolson #rickyhorror #Ricky Olson #Ricky horror #Ricky Olson fluff #Ricky horror fluff #MIW x reader #ricky miw #x reader #fluff #light angst

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orion-tyche · 2 days

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The Harbinger

Summary: Ventress’ return to the screen was iconic, but what if it didn’t happen? What if…someone else came to tell the Batch about Midichlorians? And that someone just happens to be Darth Maul? A different story begins to play out, as this time our visitor has dangerous ulterior motives.

Word count: 1706

Notes: Based on this post by @third-generation-female-warrior ! This may be one of my favorite ideas ever and it was so fun to write! Hope you enjoy.

Tag list: @traveller-of-word-and-screen

Omega walked along the Pabu beach, Batcher right next to her. It had been a very peaceful day so far. It was good to be back on Pabu, to be back home. Omega and Batcher walked in the sand, the cool morning air of the sea breezing by them. The skies were becoming grayer day by day. Omega hoped that didn’t mean another sea surge, or anything bad for that matter.

Omega was near a rocky part of the beach when Batcher began barking. The lurca hound then ran off towards the cavern up ahead.

“Batcher, wait!” Omega called after the blue hound. She quickly ran after her. She came to the cavern and saw Batcher standing just outside of it, barking at whatever was inside.

“Batcher relax,” Omega said, patting the hound’s head. “It’s just the cavern. We’ve been in there plenty of times before.” Batcher whined and ran around Omega, clearly nervous. Omega sighed and turned on her flashlight.

“Okay, okay. I’ll check it out.” She grumbled. She loved the hound, but sometimes she really got on her nerves. She walked inside and immediately noticed something new. Something strange. A large ship had landed inside the cavern, and it just barely fit inside. Omega hadn’t seen this kind of ship before. It had a round body, and large wings that looked like they could spin while flying. Omega’s flashlight illuminated the black and red colors of the ship. She reached up and touched one of the ship’s large wings.

“Where did that come from?” Omega wondered aloud. She heard Batcher barking again and turned around. Batcher was still at the entrance to the cave. Suddenly, the hound backed up and ran away from the cavern.

“Batcher! Where are you going?” Omega called. Omega suddenly felt a presence behind her. And it was not a good one. She turned around and saw a man in black robes, with a red and black face with all kinds of markings. He had horns on his head that formed a sort of crown.

“Ah, hello.” He said. His voice was eerie. Omega didn’t like this. She began backing away from him, trying to get out of the situation. She hoped Batcher ran off to get her brothers.

“…who are you?” Omega asked, still trying to back away. The man swiftly walked around her, forcing her path to now go back towards the ship, away from the cavern’s entrance.

“Well, Fennec sent me. She said you needed…help. Something about Midichlorians?” He said. Omega was still very wary of him. “Come along, there is no need to be so anxious.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Would you like my help, or not?” Omega stopped backing up. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, like she’d seen Gungi do in meditation. She faced the man once again, feeling a little less nervous but still on guard.

“First, tell me who you are. And how you got here.” She said, folding her arms. The man smirked and nodded.

“Yes, yes, of course. One cannot skip the pleasantries. You may call me Darth Maul. As for your location, you needn’t be worried that Fennec ratted you out. I found you myself. Now, why do you want to know about Midichlorians? It’s quite reckless to inquire about such things.” He said, clasping his hands behind his back. Omega paused for a moment, then answered as best she could. She couldn’t tell him the truth, she didn’t trust him just yet.

“It’s…for a friend. The Empire’s after her, and…she’s worried it’s because of the M-count thing.” She said. Maul looked unimpressed by her lie, but played along anyways.

“I see. Well, Midichlorians are something in the blood. Everyone has them, but…at varying levels. It is believed that the more you have, the more able you are to wield the force. Jedi…and Sith were known for having higher counts.”

“You’re saying I’m a Jedi?! I mean..” Omega blurted out. She did not mean to say that out loud. Now he knew for sure she’d been lying before. Omega watched him nervously as he laughed softly and smirked.

“Well, not quite. You would need…training to be a Jedi. However, that can be easily arranged. So, child, are you sure that you have a…high Midichlorian count?” Maul asked softly. Omega could tell he was trying to gain her trust by being less intimidating. She decided this was the only lead she had, and curiosity got the better of her.

“I’m not sure. Like I said…the Empire’s after me. I think it’s because of M-count. I can’t be sure though.” Omega said. Maul placed a hand on her shoulder, and Omega got a very uneasy feeling.

“Well, then you have come to the right person. I…can test you for any signs of a high M-count. It shouldn’t take long. I know a planet where we can go that has the necessary equipment. A ruined place, but plenty of old Jedi equipment was left there. I know their ways, and I am sure that—“ Maul was cut off by the sound of blasters clicking. Omega looked past him to see Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair with their blasters up and pointed at Maul. Batcher was beside them, growling.

“Step away from her.” Hunter said firmly. Mail took his hand off Omega’s shoulder and turned around to face them, hands behind his back once again. He took a step away from her. Omega warily moved away from him and over to her brothers.

“Who’re you?” Wrecker asked. Maul stepped out of the shadows of the cavern, fully illuminated by the midday light peeking through the clouds.

“I am Darth Maul, as the child already knows. Fennec sent me to help with your…questions.” He said, examining the group with care. “The child has explained. I can help, but I will need to take the child off world to test her—“

“Not happening.” Hunter said, tightening his grip on the blaster. Maul grumbled and took a step closer to the group.

“Listen carefully. That child is in danger. The Empire is hunting you because of a high Midichlorian count. I can…protect the child. I have been looking for a new apprentice for a very long time, and I—“

“I’m not going with you.” Omega spoke up. Crosshair handed her the electric crossbow from behind his back. Omega knew what this was coming to.

“That…that is unfortunate,” Maul spoke softly, then reached for something at his side. “For you.” He drew what looked like the hilt of something and it ignited into a red blade. Hunter and Wrecker immediately began shooting at Maul as he rushed towards the group. Crosshair pulled Omega out of the way and began trying to get a good shot at Maul. Omega readied the crossbow and began shooting at him as well. Maul was fast, clearly experienced. He used his saber to masterfully deflect each blast away, and then he made his offense. He went for Hunter first, dashing towards him and kicking him square in the chest. Hunter was knocked back a decent amount, and then Omega noticed something strange about Maul’s legs. They looked like Echo’s. Tech had explained what happened to Echo (with Hunter filtering some of it), that his legs were cybernetic. Droid parts. And Maul’s looked the same. His legs were artificial too, meaning that any kick he gave would be incredibly powerful. Just like getting hit with a giant block of metal, since that’s what was essentially happening.

But Wrecker hadn’t noticed this. And when Maul went to use the same move on him, he tried to deflect it. He ended up getting thrown off to the side, and hitting his head on a nearby rock. Maul turned to Omega and Crosshair next. Wrecker was near the water, out cold. Hunter was several feet away, struggling to regain his breath. Maul took a step towards Omega and Crosshair, who’d lowered their weapons and stopped firing for the time being. He held his lightsaber to the side and outstretched his free hand.

“Child. I am giving you one last chance. Come with me, or die with these fools.” Omega looked at Maul’s hand, then back up at him.

“I won’t be dying with fools,” Omega said, confident. Maul had a pleased look on his face. Just as he went to say something, Omega brought her crossbow back up and shot Maul’s shoulder. “I’ll be dying with my brothers.”

Crosshair took his chance while Maul was stunned. He shot Maul in the rib as he stumbled back towards his ship. Maul grumbled angrily, but recognized the situation he was in. This wasn’t worth it. He didn’t even have confirmation the child *was* force-sensitive. He limped back to his ship and stood on the ramp, looking back at the clones.

“…you are lucky I have…other options.” Maul then entered his ship, and a few moments later the red and black ship flew off. Omega immediately ran over to check on Wrecker and Hunter.

“Wrecker?” Omega called for her unconscious brother, trying to shake him awake. Wrecker stirred and slowly got up, rubbing his head.

“Ugh…that guy was no joke.” He said, sitting up. Hunter had gotten up too, and he was walking over to Omega. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you alright, Omega?”

“I’m alright.” Omega said, smiling. She stood back up from Wrecker’s side. Crosshair stepped forward, placing a toothpick between his teeth.

“So. You told him?”

“…yeah,” Omega said, now feeling a little guilty. “I thought he was going to help. But…it’s clear he wasn’t going to.” Omega looked back to where the ship had been moments ago. “I guess we’re no better off now than we were before.”

“No. He knew how to find us..did he say how? We never told Fennec our location.” Hunter asked, still looking concerned.

“He didn’t. I didn’t know you hadn’t given her our coordinates, so I didn’t ask,” Omega said. “But he did tell me what Midichlorians are. So…it’s a start.” At this, Hunter smiled softly. She always tried to make light of the situation.

“It is. It certainly is.”

#the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #the bad batch season 3 #star wars tbb #sw the bad batch #omega tbb #darth maul #maul opress #tbb omega #crosshair tbb #hunter tbb #wrecker tbb #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #tbb fanfiction

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annwrites · 2 days

Text

you should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: billy gets a flat & while waiting for a tire, you're stuck in oklahoma for a couple more days.

— tags: billy opening up a little. billy working on a car. going to an arcade. going night-swimming.

— tw: there is a homophobic slur in this one.

— word count: 6.8k

— a/n: i hope this entry sounds halfway decent. i wrote the grand majority of it surrounded by other people/noise/music, instead of at my work desk, listening to music that helps me write.

find my other posts concerning billy here

After considerable effort on Billy’s part, he’d eventually coaxed you back into his car and driven the both of you back to the motel. You’d cried the entire way there, and he felt like a piece of shit for it.

Once inside, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor.

“I’m going to shower again real quick—sweated through my fucking clothes from nerves.”

“Okay.”

He sighs. “I need to worry about you running off again while I’m in there?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “No. I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

He nods and watches as you get ready to lay down on the left side, which is nearest the door.

“Other side,” he says.

You look at him. “Why?”

He crosses his arms. “Please just do what I’ve asked. I don’t feel like fighting anymore tonight.”

You roll your eyes, lying down on the right side, cocooning yourself in blankets.

He goes to wash up quickly then.

When Billy comes back into the bedroom, you’re already fast-asleep. He feels relief that you’d stayed. He’d rushed so much in the shower that he’d gotten shampoo in his eyes. He was surprised the sound of him cursing hadn’t woken you.

He lies down in only his briefs—hating the feeling of clothing on him in bed, but chooses to suck it up for tonight—and he lays on his side, looking at you. Your bruises were still, obviously, quite prominent, but a few were beginning to turn more green instead of their previous dark-blue shade.

He briefly wonders how the fuck your dad could’ve ever put his hands on you, then thinks on how he nearly did just the same less than two hours ago. He tells himself he wouldn’t have done it—but the thought had crossed his mind. He’d wanted to see you afraid in that moment. And then, once he had, immediately regretted it. Deeply.

A muscle in his jaw feathers when he thinks of how you’d asked him to please not hurt you. How he’d come out of the bathroom to find you curled into a ball on the floor, a nervous wreck.

He did that to you.

You’d come with him to get away from your abuser, only to find another one along the way. What the fuck was wrong with him? Picking on you and getting under that pretty skin was one thing—he honestly fucking loved pissing you off and making you flustered. Plus, it turned him on unlike anything else. But scaring you? It just made him hate himself even more than he already does.

He slowly reaches up and gently runs his fingertips along your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

You stir in your sleep, scooting a bit closer to him. He then tries something that, if you wake up, he’s sure he’ll get his ass chewed out for. He wraps his right arm around you, bringing you in closer to him, until you’re against his chest. Thankfully, you remain asleep. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

He then realizes this is the only time he can really talk to you—if he so chooses. He knows if he tried while you’re awake that you’d listen. But what if you later used it against him? Or thought him weak? Or some faggot for ‘sharing his feelings’? No. He had to be strong—tough. That was what constituted being a real man.

He tucks your head under his chin. “I won’t ever scare you like that again. I’d never raise a hand to you.” He lays his cheek against the crown of your head of soft hair. “I don’t know why the fuck I act the way I do. I just don’t know how to stop it. Maybe I can’t.”

He sighs. He was tired—bone-tired after the adrenaline that had rushed through him as he drove down street after street looking for you, mind racing with horrible thoughts. Thoughts like: if someone did kidnap and kill you…the last thing you would remember would be that everyone you’ve ever trusted has either hurt or abandoned you—including him—that no one was coming.

He pulls you impossibly closer then. “Still not going to stop getting on your nerves, though,” he says with a small smile.

You’re awake. Have been the entire time, but choose not to react—to say anything. You want him to continue talking—letting it—anything—out. This is the him you like. Someone who’s capable of opening up and being the least bit vulnerable. Not the monster you’d bore witness to earlier in the evening. As you looked at the hatred in his eyes then, you felt like you were looking at a stranger.

Then again, you feel that way when he’s nice, too. Maybe he has multiple personalities. You smirk at the stupid idea, for whatever reason, then snuggle closer to his chest, enjoying the warmth, his broad back blocking the AC from blowing on you.

The two of you fall asleep like that—twined around one another.

When you wake the next morning, Billy’s heavy form is lying half on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, one of his legs positioned between both of yours. He snores lightly into your ear. And then you notice you’re now drenched in sweat from his body heat.

God, he’s like a human furnace. How the hell does he wear that leather jacket all the time?

You try to wiggle away from him and his snoring pauses for a moment, then continues as you lie still momentarily. You then move further toward the edge of the bed, and once you’ve slid out and onto the floor, you stand, looking down at him, seeing he’s now practically star-fished all across the mattress.

You walk over to your bag, now needing to shower again yourself to wash the sweat off, and grab a few items of clothing, silently padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

When you emerge half-an-hour later—half that time spent blow-drying your head of long hair, and pulling it into a ponytail—something you’d not done in the last couple of days—instead opting for leaving it down—you find Billy already awake, leaned back against the headboard, one arm behind his head, the other holding the TV remote in his lap.

He glances up to you, appreciating the view of you in a crop-top and jean shorts. He wolf-whistles and you don’t even give him a reaction as you place your things back in your bag.

You then turn around and he winks at you.

You don’t want to admit it, but him acting cocky and full of himself again actually comforts you. This him you can tolerate, if not begrudgingly.

“We have to be checked out in a little over an hour.”

He nods, continuing to look you over. “Why don’t you ever tease your hair?”

You shrug, even if you’re taken a little aback by the question. “I used to.”

“When?”

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall, smirking. “Before you came to Hawkins.”

He frowns. “Why stop?”

“Why do you care what my hair looks like?”

“Just think you’d look hot with it done up is all.”

You walk over, throwing the curtains open and he squints, wincing against the bright light now streaming in. “I don’t have anyone in particular that I’m trying to impress.”

He rolls his eyes at the cheap shot.

You seat yourself on the foot of the bed, facing him.

He raises a brow. “Somethin’ on your mind, doll?”

You grow serious then. After last night, you weren’t sure you could go back to this charade. Not after seeing such a different side of him on the interstate. “Do…do you want to talk about last night?”

He almost replies immediately with 'not really', but refrains. “What about it?”

You look down to your hands in your lap. “They’re not going to be happy, seeing as you put a hole in their wall.”

His jaw flexes. “They can hang a painting up then. Or plaster over it. Like I care.”

You look up to him. “So we’re going back to this, then? You acting like nothing matters to you? And me pretending to believe it?”

He leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “What is it with chicks, man? Always wanting to talk about your damn feelings all the time.” He looks at you. “I got pissed, I did something stupid, and then you did too. What, you want to kiss and make up?”

He cocks his head to the side.

You understand the walls he has built around himself. You’re two sides of the same coin that way. It’s why you didn’t put much effort into making friends at school. You knew what happened when you opened up to people.

They often disappointed.

You scoot closer to him and he shifts uncomfortably, knowing what you’re doing—trying to get closer literally, so as to get closer to him figuratively. He knows this is you trying to connect—form some deeper type of relationship with him, and he should want that, but he simply can’t.

He stands then, walking over to his duffel bag to start getting dressed.

“Billy-”

He keeps his back turned to you. “Just don’t, alright? I’m not the sappy, chick-flick type. We had a fight, we both got upset, it’s over. Just drop it.”

You deflate. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from his bag.

The two of you get breakfast at the motel—cheap waffles and fruit, but it’s something, and free at that, so you fill yourselves before getting back on the road.

And nearly three hours later finds you on the side of the interstate with a flat tire.

You’d both felt something wrong with the front driver’s side and you’d looked at him, while he groaned, slamming his hand against the wheel. “Fuck, what now?”

He’d pulled onto the shoulder, kneeling down and looking it over. You stood nearby, staying silent as he let out a string of curse words.

He then stood, walking around to the back and popping the truck. You stood idly by, watching as he tossed your bags and his onto the ground, removing the spare tire from the trunk, then the jack and lug-wrench. He tosses the tire down near the flat, then angrily pulls his jacket off, tossing it at you.

You catch it before it can smack you in the face and gently drop it in the back seat.

You watch as he gets to work loosening the bolts on the tire and you feel yourself flush. Watching him work on a car…you hadn’t expect this reaction.

You then wonder if he’s ever done any other work on it before. By the callouses on his hands, especially at eighteen, you imagine so.

When he begins to jack it up, you bite back a nervous smile, feeling something pool between your thighs. Oh, not good. Not here.

You turn away for a moment and he glances up to you. “What, can’t take watching a man get his hands dirty? Sorry your pretty-boy Harrington isn’t here and fuckin’ clueless, I’m sure.”

You turn back around and he notices your flushed cheeks, and you refusing to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then it dawns on him. You like this. A toothy grin forms on his face. “You should see me under the hood of this thing, sweetheart. I’d really have you sweating then.”

He turns back to the tire, loosening the bolts the rest of the way, pulling it off, and looking it over. Then he explodes, causing you to take a step back. “Motherfucker! Are you fucking kidding me? Goddamn piece of fucking shit! Fuck this, I knew I should’ve bought a Goodyear!”

He stands, hands on his hips, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he stares down at the ruined tire, nostrils flared.

“W-what’s wrong? Can you not patch it somehow, maybe?”

He stays silent for a moment, refusing to take this out on you. “No,” he says, brow twitching in irritation. “I would’ve, had the puncture not been in the goddamn sidewall.”

“That’s bad?”

He looks at you, replying sarcastically. “Yeah, honey, that's bad. Means the thing is fuckin’ junk now.”

He kicks it. Then he sighs, bending back down to put the spare on.

“Well, you can just drive on that one now, right?”

He looks upward to the sky, begging for the strength. “Women…” he mutters. “Not more than thirty or forty miles. Definitely no more than a hundred, and that’s if I really want to push my fuckin’ luck and risk another blowout, if not screwing up my alignment, which will just create an even bigger mess.”

It all sounds like Greek to you. “What’s wrong with that tire?”

He looks at you like the answer should be obvious. “It’s a goddamn donut. They’re not meant to be driven on for long periods of time.”

He shoves it on the car, screwing the nuts back into place.

You stay silent after that.

You’re currently standing beside Billy—the back of his shirt drenched in sweat from the summer heat—and watch as the man in front of you, standing behind the counter of a local auto-body shop, talks lowly to someone on the phone, glancing to Billy every few seconds, who is now in a…bad mood, to put it lightly.

The man finally hangs up, turning back to him. “Soonest I can get one in is two days.”

“Two fucking days? Are you kidding me?” He shouts.

You blanch, staring at the man with wide-eyes as he crosses his arms before his chest, giving Billy a rather displeased look.

You then grab the side of Billy’s shirt in your fist. You look at the man. “I’m sorry about that, we’ll be right back.”

Billy looks at you. “Don’t apologize to him. This is fuckin’ ridiculous-”

You shoosh him rather loudly—people already staring in your direction—and pull him back outside for a moment. He stares down at you.

“What?” he spits at you.

“Who cares if it’s two days, or four or five? It’s not like we’re on a set schedule. All that matters is that we eventually get there. I mean, maybe we could start taking detours along the way and do some sight-seeing. No reason to race all the way there and not enjoy the trip, right?”

He studies you for a moment. His first reaction was to tell you this isn’t a fuckin’ vacation—you weren’t going to be pulling off and taking photos of obnoxious tourist-traps. And then he suddenly softens.

This is you trying to spend time with him…right?

If he tells you no…he fears it may come off like he’s trying to get to California as quickly as possible so he can finally be rid of you.

Then he wonders what happens once the two of you do finally reach those sandy shores. Will you leave him behind, too…?

He shakes his head for a moment, ridding himself of that thought and you deflate at his reaction to your suggestion for making your road trip just a bit more exciting.

“Oh. Sorry. Nevermind. Just forget that I-”

He looks at you again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I wasn’t-” He sighs. “Fine. We’ll take a couple days off and just explore around town. Find some overpriced souvenir shop so you can buy some ridiculous t-shirt. Happy?”

You smile, nodding.

He heads back inside then. “Two days is fine.”

You decide to pay up two nights at a local Red Roof Inn, which happens to have an outdoor pool. When Billy was told this by the receptionist, he’d looked to you with a raised brow and a smirk, his eyes trailing down your body, then back up. “We’ll have to pick you up a bikini, sweetheart.”

You’d not replied or even reacted as you picked up your bags, turning to head to your room.

Once dropping off your things, Billy had walked back to the door, intending to head back out, intent on keeping his promise of buying you skimpy swimwear. He’d merely called over his shoulder, as you came out of the bathroom, “You comin’?”

It takes a bit of driving before you come across a local clothing shop. You head over to a rack of sundresses and flowy skirts once inside, while Billy heads to a rack a few feet away with women’s swimwear. He smirks when he finds something similar to what he had pictured in his head for you to squeeze into.

He holds it up, the hanger dangling from his index finger, and he calls to you.

When you look at him you flush—of course the bottoms are equivalent to a thong. Your eyes then meet his and he’s waiting for you to respond, a brow raised in offer.

You then shake your head lightly, looking away.

He sighs. “Course not.”

He flips through a couple other options, then picks up a red two-piece—the top essentially a push-up bra. He clears his throat and you look to him again, then quickly away.

He walks over to you, hanger still in-hand. “Oh, c’mon. Just try this one on. Humor me, honey.”

You shake your head, nose raised. “I don’t think so.”

He leans down. “Pretty please?”

You look at him, his face inches from your own.

You shift from one foot to the other. “If I pick one out will you shut up about it?” You ask sweetly, batting your lashes.

He smirks. “If I get to watch.”

You turn away, rolling your eyes, his own landing on your ass, humming his approval at the view.

You find a high-waisted two-piece and a one-piece you like the look of, and you head for the changing room, Billy following closely behind you, which you don’t notice until you turn to shut the door and he places his hand flat against it, keeping it open.

You stare up at him. “Move.”

He leans against the wall with his shoulder, other hand on his hip. “You never said I didn’t get to watch.”

“It was implied.”

He just continues staring down at you.

You then step closer to him, gripping either side of his jacket in your hands, looking up to him with hooded lids. “Hey, Billy?”

God, it took no fucking effort from you for him to be set on fire.

“Yeah, doll?” He asks, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Go find someone who’s desperate enough,” you say, pushing him back, and just as he catches his footing, you slam the door in his face.

You decide on the two-piece, the one-piece a bit awkward-looking in the crotch.

When you exit the changing room, you find Billy standing near a wall half-full of novelty t-shirts.

You wander over to him and watch as a smile breaks out across his face as he pulls down a shirt. He then glances to you at his side and holds it up in front of him.

“What’d’ya think?” He asks.

It’s a plain black shirt with white lettering and a red heart, reading: I heart sluts.

You look at him with an unimpressed expression. “Really?”

“Oh, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

You turn away. “I’m going to check out.”

Billy puts the shirt back, flipping through a handful more and then he laughs to himself. “Oh, fucking perfect,” he says, taking a different one up front with him.

When Billy comes out to the car, he has a pair of swim shorts in a plastic bag and is wearing his new t-shirt.

He gets inside and turns toward you, the front of his shirt on full display. “Where to next? Unless you want to head back and let me see you in that suit?”

When you look at him you let out a completely unexpected laugh.

He keeps his face impassive. “Somethin’ funny?”

You stare at the front of his shirt—just how utterly ridiculous and on-the-nose it is—and then look back up to him, breaking into a fit of giggles.

Seeing you like this—happy, having a laugh for once—he starts to, too. “What?” He asks, snorting. “You think I don’t want to?”

You look back down to his shirt again, tears streaming down your face. “Oh, I do. You’re just not going to.”

He finally turns the engine over, pulling away from the shop. “Oh, baby, you should know by now: I’m not one to give up easily.”

You glance back down to his shirt. ‘Fuck virgins’. Really?

After grabbing a quick bite to eat for lunch, Billy finds a local arcade and the two of you head inside, simply looking for something new to keep you occupied for a couple hours.

And it’s when you look around at the flashing lights and take in the sounds of music and machine sound effects, couples and friends laughing and competing against one another, that you realize that for the first time in a very long time you feel worry-free.

You glance up to Billy at your side and find yourself unable to understand, exactly, how it is that you now feel toward him.

You’d seen a different side of him last night on the side of the interstate—the same man who’d picked you up on your way out-of-town—and just wish you could get more glimpses of that version of him. A version you feel you can actually trust and let your defenses down with.

I can’t do this without you.

You weren’t sure you could’ve made it this far without him, either. In reality, you were the one who needed him. He had the car, the money, the wherewithal, and the knowledge to keep you going. And then you briefly consider how those things, coupled with his more serious moments, make you feel safe in relying on him. You wonder how that would make him feel to know. And then you think of his fist in a drywall and withdraw a little.

“You were wrong, y’know,” you say softly.

He looks down to you, stopping, hands on his hips. “What’s that, darlin’?”

You clasp your hands in front of you, looking down. “You could—can—do this without me. You’re not the one who needs the other here.”

He studies you for a moment. Then he grips your chin gently between his fingers, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’re wrong.”

He turns, taking your hand, and leading you over to a machine that will turn his cash into tickets for games. He bites back a satisfied smile at you admitting that you need him as he shoves dollar bills into it. It means a lot to him to hear. Means a lot that you’re willing to actually admit it out loud.

Once you’re both holding handfuls of tickets, Billy heads toward a racing game, while you go to wander in the opposite direction, wanting to try a claw machine, until he grips the hem of your top, dragging you along beside him. “Stop wanderin’ off.”

You look up at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I can get lost in here.”

He smirks. “I’ll win you a stuffed animal later. Once you’ve earned it.”

The two of you then sit side-by-side, readying yourself to race. He glances to you as the screens begin to count down. “Don’t think I’m about to take it easy on you either, just because you have a pair of tits.”

You glare at him. “Why do you always have to be such a vulgar ass?”

He smirks. “Says the girl with a foul-mouth.”

Your wheel jerks and you gasp in disbelief that he was already ramming his car into yours.

You keep your eyes trained ahead at the screen then and accelerate, then see Billy shifting gears out of the corner of your eye.

You mentally resign yourself to losing to him… And you do a couple minutes later, him standing with a smug look on his face, arms crossed.

“Billy, one. You,” he shrugs, sucking on his teeth, cocking his head to the side.

You look behind him and smile, stepping past him, heading for the air hockey.

You currently have six scores to Billy’s two, and as you glance up to him—the irritated look on his face—you find yourself unsurprised that he’s the competitive type.

He smacks the puck back toward you, brows furrowed, free hand gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles are white. “How the fuck are you so good at this?”

You shrug, smacking the puck back his way. “Guess it just comes naturally.”

He glances up to you with a smirk. “Oh yeah? Putting stuff in holes your specialty?” He smacks the puck back toward you.

You don’t take the bait, and instead choose to flip the script on him. “Maybe I just got a lot of recent practice in the night Steve and I went out. Maybe we went to the Hawkins Arcade after.”

You smack the puck as hard as you can, his eyes now trained on you and not the table, and it slides into his side easily. The table lets out a musical jingle at yet another victory on your part and you raise your arms above your head, and jump. “Yes!” You say with a smile, settling back into fighting stance.

His nostrils flare and he leans over the table, slamming the puck down and smacking it so hard it goes flying past you.

You roll your eyes, heading over to grab it and when you bend down to do so, you feel a hard smack against your behind and when you whirl around, Billy standing behind you with a wide smile.

“Bet Harrington didn’t get to do that, though, did he?”

You shoulder check him as you head back to the table. “Felt like a flea bite to me.”

Just as you set the puck back on the table, you feel him grab a handful and squeeze.

You squeak in surprise and before he gets a chance to make it back to his side, you smack the puck over, scoring yet again.

His smile drops from his face. “Hey! That’s fuckin’ cheating.”

You smile sweetly. “Sounds like a skill issue to me.”

He’s fuming now and you can’t believe just how serious he’s taking this.

But one more score on your part and the game will thankfully be over.

Billy once again slams the puck down on the table and doesn’t look at you once as the two of you battle it out—him the image of utter concentration.

You then throw at him, “If you let me win, maybe I’ll repay you in sexual favors.”

His head shoots up and the table jingles and he lets out a loud curse.

Billy is still fuming a few minutes later as the two of you browse their other games, until he eyes up a pinball machine and smiles.

You go to walk past it, until he grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto it.

You flush, glancing around, afraid of being kicked out by an employee, until he shoves two tickets into the machine, positioning his hands on either side of you, over-top of the buttons, his eyes staring into your own.

“Skill issue my ass,” he says, pulling the knob back, sending the tiny pin ball flying.

You cover the entire front portion of the game, so there’s no way he has any idea what he’s doing. Until he pushes the button for the right bumper, then the left, left again, right, his eyes never leaving your own.

The scoreboard begins to climb behind you—ten points, thirty, thirty-five, fifty, eventually a hundred, a few hundred. He smirks. “You won the last game, so what sexual favors do I get rewarded with again?”

The pinball tings under you.

You shift and he just continues staring, waiting.

“I…” You trail off. It wasn’t like he had let you win. You’d cheated, like he said. Twice, really.

The machine begins to go wild under you and coins begin to shoot into the dispenser—so many they begin spilling onto the floor.

"You should see what else these fingers are good at playing with." He slides his hands up your thighs until they’re resting over your hips. He pulls you closer to him. “Maybe I should just choose.”

You laugh from nerves. “I wasn’t serious.”

He slides his hands onto your bare waist. “You think I’m letting you out of it that easy?” He steps back finally, scooping coins into his hands, stuffing them into his pockets. “Not likely, sweetheart.”

You stand silently beside Billy as he looks over the larger prizes against the wall behind the counter. They even have an Atari. He’d wanted one for a long time, but after getting told no more times than he could count by his dad, he finally gave up on it. And when he got his car, he didn’t have much interest in wasting his time on anything else. Working on it more than served to take his mind off his shitty life.

He looks to you and you smile up at him, waiting patiently while he makes up his mind.

Then, “You choose.”

Your smile falters. “But you’re the one who won.”

He smirks, then reaches up, running his knuckles along your cheek. “Oh, I know I did. And don't think for a second I don't plan on collecting on that offer.”

You and your mouth. Stupid.

After dinner at a small diner—Billy paying for you again—the two of you return to the motel and once the door has closed behind you, Billy goes to strip right in front of you.

You gasp in shock, turning your back to him. "Can you please stop doing that?"

He slips on his new pair of swim trunks. "You've already seen my ass once, sweetie. What's another time or two?"

He then comes up from behind you, pressing himself against your back and you jolt.

He leans down toward your ear. "Might want to slip your suit on, too if we're going to swim. Unless you'd rather skinny dip?"

You grab the plastic bag which houses your new two-piece and head for the bathroom.

Once you've put it on, you look over yourself in the mirror for a moment, ensuring everything is properly covered. And also mentally prepare yourself for the lewd comments you already know Billy is going to be incessantly throwing your way.

You exit the bathroom, Billy leaning back against the open doorway to your room, arms crossed and his head rolls in your direction, eyes widening.

You're wearing his favorite color—blue. Almost an exact shade-match to his Camaro. He wonders if that choice had been intentional. Your bottoms are high-waisted, but at your hips are small, thin bows, every inch of your long legs on display. The top cups your breasts perfectly, a small bow between them as well.

He wolf-whistles. Then licks his lips and says, "I'll tell you this much, honey, the water won't be the only thing making you wet tonight if I have anything to say about it."

You walk past him. "You don't."

Just as he shuts the door behind the both of you, he reaches up with both hands and undoes both ties at your neck and backside, your top slipping off. You quickly reach up, covering yourself with your hands and he snickers as he grabs your top before you get a chance to.

You stand there, mortified. "Give it back!"

He holds it up above his head. "You want it so bad, take it from me."

You glare up at him, irritation building to a boiling point.

He shrugs, turning away. "Guess you don't need it all that bad then."

Once his back is turned to you, you make a split-second decision and pants him.

He curses, dropping your top long enough to pull his bottoms back up and you grab it, jogging down the stairs to get away from him long enough to get it back on.

You reach the pool before he does and deflate when you see the sign on the gate: Night swimming strictly prohibited.

You turn to go back go to the room, deciding on just watching a movie in bed, instead, after taking a hot bath, but bump into Billy's bare chest.

"What're you doing?"

"The sign says no night swimming."

His brows furrow. "So?" He flips the lock on the gate, stepping past it.

You quickly follow after him, grabbing his arm. "Billy, stop."

He turns back to you, expression that of indifference, clearly not caring about the repercussions of his future actions.

"We could get kicked out for this. And I doubt they'd be willing to refund you for the room tonight."

Your voice is a tone of pleading.

He's silent for a moment, as if he's considering his options, then sighs. "You're right, I'm sorry."

You fill with relief, glad he's listening you for once.

Until he bends down, wrapping his arms around your knees, picking you up. You wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling off of him backward. "Billy, what're you-"

He races toward the pool and cannonballs in, instantly submerging the both of you.

When you get above the surface, he's floating on his back, arms behind his head, flashing you a smile.

"You are such an ass."

You go to swim in the other direction, toward the steps, until you feel his strong arms wrap around you from behind. "Oh no you don't."

You squirm against him and he just laughs as you struggle, turning you around until you're chest-to-chest.

"Let go of me, I want to get out before someone catches us."

"No one's going to catch us. Can you just chill the fuck out for a second? Jesus. You're aware you're allowed to let loose every once in awhile and have fun, right? You don't have to be so uptight all the time."

You stay quiet, ignoring the feel of his hands at your hips, which then move back to wrapping around your back.

He sighs."You're not there. You don't have to act like the woman of the house anymore. You don't have to keep it together all the time with me. You can be whoever you want now; do whatever you want. No one's going to stop you."

Your eyes sting and you tell yourself it's from the chlorine. Not from him having read you so easily.

And then you relax a little."I don't know how," you say softly.

He looks at you for a moment, thinking. "What's something you've always wanted to do, but felt like you couldn't, either because of him, or because you were afraid what everyone might think?"

You search yourself for an answer, but don't come up with anything. There was no point in thinking about things you might've been able to do if you had a different life before. You didn't. You were who you were, and you made your peace with that.

You shrug. "I'm not sure."

He rubs one palm down your back. And then he smirks, and you know whatever he's come up with is going to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. "You ever been drunk before?"

You frown. "That's not really my idea of fun."

"Just answer the question."

"No, I haven't."

He grins. "Want to?"

You debate it for a moment, sure it's a foolish thing to do. Especially with him. "Not tonight..."

"Tomorrow night, then?"

You know it's an impulsive and stupid thing to do, but you know you'll never "let loose" all on your own. Because what you'd told him is true: you don't know how.

You've never had the option to do anything before but what was expected of you. Or, rather, what you expected of yourself, since your dad couldn't be relied on for nearly anything. Other than getting drunk himself. Then you worry: what if you agree, and you come to discover you have a predisposition to alcoholism yourself?

You nearly groan for over-thinking yet one more thing. Just like always.

"Okay," you reply quietly, knowing you will have all day tomorrow to change your mind if you so choose.

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"I said okay." Your fingers brush against his curls at the base of his neck.

He squeezes your hips. "I'll have to get you liquored up so I can finally take advantage of you."

You roll your eyes skyward. "I changed my mind."

"It's called a joke, sweetheart. Stop taking everything to heart."

He glances behind you then. "Shit, what're those doing over there?" He asks with a tone of flat, feigned confusion.

You turn your head to look across the pool and you feel your skin grow hot when you see your bikini bottoms floating atop the water.

You push off of him then. "You're such a perv!"

He laughs and pinches your bottom as you swim away from him to go grab them. So that's why he'd been so handsy with your hips—he'd been busy untying them.

As you put them back on, tying the bows back into place, you look back to him with a heated expression. "So you were distracting me so you could do... That."

You lays flat on his back, floating. "Maybe. But I still meant the things I said: that you need to get over yourself and have some fun. Make a couple bad decisions. Might turn out to be the best thing you've ever done."

You splash him, then get out, heading back up to the room.

Once you've both bathed for the night, Billy exits the bathroom...completely naked.

You reach up, covering your eyes."Will you please stop doing that?!"

He walks around to his side of the bed. "I told you, I don't like sleeping in clothes. So from now on I won't be. Get used to it."

He crawls into bed beside you and thankfully covers up.

You lower your hands, looking at him. "You wore something last night."

"Because last night was different."

You groan. He's going to do whatever he wants. You already know you're wasting your breath arguing.

You nearly threaten to do the same, so as to give him a taste of his own medicine, then bite your tongue, knowing throwing that in his face would give him exactly what he wants.

So, instead, you lean over him smirking, your body hovering over his, your left leg between both of his and he looks up at you with a look of happy surprise. His hand comes up to cup your cheek and your smile disappears at the unexpectedly soft gesture as you awkwardly grab the TV remote from his bedside table and plop back down on your side of the bed.

You hadn't expected such a...sweet reaction. You were just doing it to lead him on and then tick him off.

And it turns out it worked when he speaks. "God, you're such a fuckin' tease. I don't buy the innocent act anymore, so don't bother with it."

You turn the TV on, flipping through the channels. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Billy doesn't get what he wants when, an hour later, you're both lying down for the night, and he's under the top sheet, while you're atop it, but still under the duvet.

"Be a lot warmer if you just pressed yourself up against me again like last night."

You can't see him in the dark, and know he thus can't see you, but you roll your eyes anyway. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired. You could always help with that."

You feel him shifting onto his side, then feel a warm hand sliding under your nightgown. You reach down, trying to shove his hand away, but, with him being stronger than you, he just keeps pushing higher until he reaches second base. Well, sort of. His hand merely skims the soft skin beneath your breast, but you huff loudly out of irritation, turning onto your other side away from him.

"Honey, if you wanted to spoon, all you had to do was ask."

He then presses his frontside against your back and you go to get up, until he wraps an ironclad arm around your middle.

"No, that's not my pistol, before you ask. I'm just that happy to see you."

"You are so fucking obnoxious. Get off of me."

He snuggles closer to you. "Mm, I don't think I will."

He becomes quiet then, and it's only a couple minutes later before he falls asleep, exhausted from the long day.

You stay silent, not wanting to wake him and hear more inappropriate comments. So you shut your eyes, falling asleep in his arms. Reluctantly.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader

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nerdalmighty · 20 hours

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BG3 Tag Game!

I was tagged by @khywren!!! Thank you!!!!!!

I'm going to tag @vanilkaplays @okthisway @maladaptive-menace @riddlerosehearts @starkspi and anyone else who wants to play along!

Favorite romance: It will surprise no one to know that it's Astarion. I find his backstory so incredibly interesting and I love his dumbass personality. At the end of the day, he just wants to do whatever is the most hilarious and I adore that. I especially love how soft he gets when you get together in Act 2. I could go on and on but I'll never be able to fully articulate my love for him.

Favorite class to play: Bard! I love that they're really the jack of all trades and are pretty good at everything, including spells and sword fighting. Persuasion and deception are SO helpful in this game, plus playing music to distract crowds and cause shenanigans in Baldur's Gate is wonderful.

Favorite NPC: I think Raphael. While yeah he absolutely SUCKS, I'm obsessed with his obsession with his own voice. He's a thespian, he's a freak, he's an idiot. I love it. But yes, I did kill his ass.

Favorite song off the soundtrack: Probably the Harpy Song. I listen to it a lot in my spare time, especially when I'm working on a specific fic I'm attempting to write. I'm a big fan of haunting melodies and, unsurprisingly, the concept of hypnotizing music.

Tell us a little about your Tav: I wrote a pretty long post about her here, but my Tav is named Birdie and she's a bard who was born and raised at the Water Queen's House. Previous iterations of her had her as a siren (hence the deep love of the Harpy Song), but I'm still not 100% sure if this version of her is. Basically, she's a mermaid ass goof whose main gang of idiots include Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart. Chaos often ensues.

Something you wish was in the game: I know this game is huge. I know there's probably stuff people haven't even discovered yet. But god would I love some more camp animations. More interactions between the companions AT camp. Cut scenes where there should probably be cut scenes (The second time Astarion drinks your blood, Wyll celebrating the defeat of Ansur, etc). I really really love this game, but I'd love to hang out with my friends EVEN MORE.

Do you create fanworks? Share something with us: Oh boy I'm TRYING. I've never really written fanfiction before but the stupid vampire has inspired me to do so. I'm in the process of writing two different fics (one multi-chapter, one one-shot on the longer side) and am having a blast but I'm not sure if/when I'll post them. I've noticed my writing style is very similar to the way I write scripts, which is what I went to college for, so they're full of dialogue and quick, dumb banter. It might not be for everyone, but I'm having The Most Fun! Let me know if you'd maybe want to see more? Here's a silly excerpt from the one-shot (she may or may not get smutty later on 👀):

There was no sign of the vampire, save for an open hatch beneath the stone of the tower leading into what you presumed was a cellar of sorts. Off to the side was a discarded set of Thieves’ Tools. Yup, that’ll be him.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you began to descend into the basement below.

Before you could even make it to the bottom, however, you heard Astarion’s voice tinged with annoyance. “Don’t bother, darling. I was just coming back up.”

You paused on the ladder and looked down at him. “That bad?”

“Eh, a few coins, some food. Nothing worth risking one’s life over. Foolish gnome.”

“Shame,” you pouted down at him, not an ounce of real sympathy behind the word.

He smirked as he met your eye. “Go,” he said, indicating you should climb back up the ladder. “There was a rather large amount of smoke powder though. That could be fun.”

When you emerged back into the early evening air, you turned to help Astarion out. “Maybe you can blow up a quaint little gnomish village.”

Astarion’s eyes glittered with delight. “Oh, do you think there’s one around here? That would be- Oh. You’re joking.”

You nodded.

“Gods, you’re no fun.” He sighed dramatically and then started back towards the Blighted Village proper.

You scoffed in mock offense. “I’m a lot of fun!”

Astarion tsked. “If you have to say you’re a lot of fun, odds are, you’re lying to yourself.” He shot a challenging half smile at you from over his shoulder.

“How dare you,” you laughed.

“Such a pity, too,” he went on. “Aren’t bards supposed to be entertaining?”

You made a sound of agony, which had Astarion fully turning back to look at you. You threw a hand to your heart and staggered towards him. “You wound me, Astarion. Look upon me with pity and remember me fondly!” You set an arm on his shoulder and let your body weight go, as if collapsing from a killing blow.

Astarion was quick to catch you under your arms. He made a show of groaning about how heavy you were now that your body had gone completely limp. After you’d hung loosely from his grip for a few seconds, he finally yielded. “Alright, enough.”

You resumed control of your body and stood up straight, a smug look on your face. “I’m fun.”

“Dramatic.”

“Theatrical.”

“Annoying.”

“Endearing.”

“Loud.”

“Enthusiastic-”

Just then, a loud howl came from a barn a little ways off.

You and Astarion eyed each other.

“Was that you?” Astarion asked.

“‘Was that me?!’ I’m not THAT loud.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.” You started in a light jog towards the barn.

Astarion groaned. “You can’t be serious.” He caught up with you easily. “Haven’t we done enough heroing for today?”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “One more act of heroism probably won’t kill you.”

“It might!”

“Oh, now who’s being dramatic?” You came to a stop at the double doors.

“I-” Astarion floundered, then pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought.”

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bravo4iscool · 23 hours

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Hey, I can't help but suggest this to you! /(this is a personal story, and I swear it can be used to make a typical series, in one word: my brother was married to a girl (let it be Cora), but he falls in love with his friend’s wife (let his friend be name Tom) and Cora and Tom fall in love with each other friend, then drama and all sorts of bullshit(#crazy_ story,lol)/

Fem!tell reader(1) and the Ghost (wife and husband) Price/soap/gas begin to fall in love with the ghost's wife (of course this is not mutual love!, fr (i think) ghost would see their views on his wife)

(1)I mean the anonymous who sent the request to (tell wife reader)

i’m sorry it took me to long to respond. i kinda forgot about this, i’m so sorry😭

but i like the idea! i hope i could write it like you imagined! (also what kind of crazy personal story is that???)

i decided to make this a series! so, this is the first part of approximately four parts!

(tall!reader | tall!reader pt2)

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

tag list - @yazt09 @bumblebeesfromvenus @blackhawkfanatic

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

john "soap" mactavish

soap did not want it to go that way. absolutely not. nu-uh. never in a hundred—no—thousand years did he want to fall in love with you. the wife of his fucking lieutenant.

it really hit him like a bloody truck. one day he was teasing his lt. about his enormously tall wife and on the next he just wanted to bend you over the next best table and do unspeakable things to you.

soap knew it was wrong, he knew and he didn't want to feel this way but he couldn't help it. you were so—he didn't know the right words to describe you.

every time he saw you—with his lt. or not—he felt himself blushing and avoiding you at all costs. if ghost would find out, soap would be cooked; so cooked. his lt. was—even tho you could perfectly handle yourself—very protective over you and who could blame him? soap wouldn't wanna lose someone as amazing as you.

“johnny?“ ghost's gruff voice drags the sargeant's attention back to reality. the scot's head perks up and he looks at his lt.

“yea?“

“can ya pick m'wife up in an hour?“ the older man casually asks while he continues to fill out his reports. “she has a doctors appointment 'nd i won't be finished in time t'pick 'er up,“ he explains, not even bothering to look at his best friend.

soap blinks two times before he opens his mouth. “wha?“ he then asks, not sure if he heard it right.

ghost's rolls his eyes and sets his pen down. “i asked ya t'pick up m'wife.“ when soap doesn‘t answer ghost raises a questioning brow. “i can also ask gaz.“

soap shakes his head. “no, no! i‘ll do it. no problem!“ there was a sudden euphoria in his voice and ghost frowned. this was weird…

“are ya okay johnny?“ he wants to know, tilting his head. “ya bein‘ weird.“

immediately soap shakes his head again. “me? weird? nah lt. why would ye think tha?“ he lets out a nervous chuckle and averts his gaze.

ghost sighs and rolls his eyes. “the way ya behaving i might think ya in love with m’wife.“

it was meant as a joke but soap‘s throat tied up and he forced out another laugh. “me in love with ye lassie? never lt.!“

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 2 days

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A/N ::: I'm just going to come right out and say it, I love Kafka Hibino. He's so goddamn cute that I literally want to just eat him alive. This is my first time writing for him - though I've been thinking about it for ages. I hope you like it, @supersecretsaga And I apologize, I'm wholly incapable of writing without it exceeding 1k words. So, SORRY. I proofed this once on google docs and that's all I have in me today. Any gross errors that look like I didn't mean to do them, message me!

C/W ::: Human Kafka, F.reader, not a lot of swearing. I just don't get the sense that Kafka would swear unnecessarily. Maybe I'm wrong. My perception will probably change. Really, who cares. Um, P->V (unprotected), jumping the relationship gun (but, with him, I would, too.)

WC ::: 3,094 (about 7 3/4 pages on G-Docs).

MDNI UNDER THE CUT

Kafka Hibino was simple, through and through. But when he met you that day in the hospital, his whole life changed. He knew he'd never be the same man he was before he was admitted.

You're a nurse. You were great at your job, and you knew it. Though the first time you saw that big, dumb puppy-energy-giving man, you knew that you were a goner, as well.

He was admitted around 2 am. Settled in around 5 am. He was in a lot of pain from the fight he'd gotten into with the Kaiju around midnight. He had 2 broken arms, bruised ribs. A number of different things had happened to him.

Kafka would be in good hands, though. Really, really good hands.

Your hands.

**** 7:30 am ****

"Oh- oh my god. What was THAT!?" You pulled your hand from the large porcelain tub in his bathroom and squeezed the sponge out over his short dark hair.

Giggling, you blinked slowly because you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading throughout your whole body. And not just between your thighs. No, this was something else entirely. His stupid haircut, his kind eyes and dumbass smile were hammering their way through your boundaries. The same boundaries you'd worked so hard over the years to build to not get emotionally attached to patients.

"You're an idiot, Mr. Hibino. A complete moron. Have you never been bathed before? That was just a little something extra to help loosen up your muscles, a quick massage. My goodness. It's as if you've never been pampered." You stood from where you were on your knees on the floor and shook your hands out, purposely getting water on his face - you hoped in his eyes - so you would have a reason to gingerly wipe it dry.

"Call me Kafka," he said, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grab the towel and stand over him.

"What?" You were confused. You didn't realize he'd been asking you something.

"Call me Kafka. It's my name, yeah?" He sounded so serious, so sincere. You nodded and wiped his face with the towel, noticing the small wrinkles as he smiled up at you.

Fuck. He's adorable and you're finding it harder and harder to stay professional.

"No. Your name is Mr. Hibino and that's what I'll be calling you. Ok? Mr. Hibino? Now, let's finish this bath and get you back in bed. The doctor will be coming by soon to check on you and he can give you another massage if you need it." You moved your hands to his shoulders, gently massaging them as you continued talking. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Hibino. Your body needs to heal."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tub.

You kept massaging him, not stopping until he was almost asleep.

This sweet, gentle man, had a power over you that no one else did. And you weren't sure how to deal with it.

Quite a while later (sorry, storyline faux pas - I didn’t take into account healing time. But let’s just say that because he’s part Kaiju that he heals exceptionally fast. Ok? Ok!)*****

**** 1 month later, 10 pm ****

You hadn't seen Kafka since the morning bath you'd given him. He was discharged and sent home to continue his recovery. As a nurse, you knew he would be alright. But as a woman, you were left feeling empty and wanting more of him.

You were home that night, exhausted, but unable to sleep. You tried to keep your thoughts away from the big, gentle man who had stolen your heart with his kind words and warm smile, but it was impossible.

Your mind drifted to the way he looked at you as you bathed him.

How his body was perfectly balanced between the hard muscles he'd earned in his training and the slight squish around his mid-section that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingertips over.

His arms were thick and strong. Yet not battle-worn. He didn't have too many scars, though they'd have only added to his appeal.

His legs were muscular, too. Thick and strong, like his arms. His thighs were something else, something you found yourself daydreaming about wrapping your own legs around.

You wondered what his cock would feel like inside of you. You snuck a glance when he was in the tub. You knew his eyes were closed when you looked at it, bobbing away in the water. You're certain he was hard. Otherwise, you prayed he wasn't a grower because any more than that and you'd be the one being admitted to the hospital.

You thought about his hands on your body, squeezing your breasts and sliding between your thighs. You imagined what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of you, massaging you and bringing you to orgasm faster than you could imagine.

You rubbed your clit slowly, gently. You couldn't bring yourself to fuck yourself with a vibrator or even your own fingers. You didn't want to give yourself that much pleasure.

You wanted it to be Kafka.

You wanted him to be the one to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

You rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as you yelled out in frustration.

"This is ridiculous. This is so stupid. I - I'm not some teenager who can't control herself." You stood and walked to your closet, grabbing some comfortable clothes and your purse and left for the mini mart down the street from your house.

Chocolate was the next best thing you could think of. Other than, of course, Kafka running his hands all over your body. But what are the chances of that.

What are the chances of that?

The night air was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to the heat you'd built up while thinking about him.

You grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream and began walking back home.

You felt better, slightly, but still very much wanting.

**** 10:30 pm ****

You were halfway through your pint and the movie when you heard a knock on your front door. "Coming, hold on, please." You walked to the door and looked through your peephole to see who it was. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Hibino?" The smile on your face was causing the back of your head to strain. You couldn't hide that you felt like your prayers had been answered all at once. But at the same time, you didn't want Kafka to see this look of bliss on your flushed face.

"Call me Kafka," he said softly, leaning against the doorway and smiling back at you. "And I wanted to see you again. May I? Come in, I mean. Please?"

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

You watched as he looked around your living room. You could tell he was a little nervous, but so were you.

You'd never felt this way about a patient before. Ex-patient, you had to remind yourself. He was no longer under your care.

"Ok, Kafka." He smiled at the way you said his name. He'd never heard anything like it before. "Would you like some ice cream? I was just sitting here, eating some, watching a bad movie." You chuckled, showing him the container and spoon.

"Sure. I'd love some." He sat down right in the middle of your couch, and you sat next to him.

You handed him the ice cream and he dug in.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes until he said, "This is good."

You nodded and smiled. "It is. Sometimes chocolate, um, well, sometimes it's the only thing that helps. Y'know?" You looked at him, noticing the way his lips had turned up into a smirk. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just ... you just ... h-here. Can I? There's a little bit of ... right ..." He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip so slowly and then sucked the ice cream off. "... there. You just had a little on your lip. 'S gone now."

You weren't sure what to do. Your body was telling you to jump on him and fuck him until neither of you could walk. Your brain was telling you to wait and see what other kind of sweet nothings he'd do for you.

So, you waited. You had no idea your self-control was this well-honed. Again, you’d never been tested like this before.

But Kafka was different.

"You're beautiful, y'know." He whispered, looking at the floor like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. He turned his head, leaning in a little bit closer than you were to him at the hospital. His hand moved to rest on your knee. And he said, "I've never met anyone like you before. I thought I was just going lay in the hospital bed until I was better. But you showed me kindness and care. I know you were just doing your job, but I'm grateful that you were there. That you were … you."

You didn't say anything. You were too busy trying to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest. You're sure if he'd looked, he'd see your tits jumping ever so slightly from the heaviness of the beating.

"Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Miss. I don’t know your first name. I’m embarrassed at how many ‘L/N’ households I went to looking for you.”

Your hand shot up to cover the smile that immediately bloomed across your lips. "That's not important. It's Y/N. And you're welcome. I'm happy I was able to help you. I didn't expect you to come here, though. I'm glad you did." You shifted, moving your knee so that your legs were touching. He didn't move his hand. He held it there, squeezing your knee gently.

"I didn't think I'd come here either. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know it's not appropriate for me to be here, but I had to see you again. I wanted to say thank you, in person." He turned his head and looked at you. You leaned in closer to him, your noses almost touching. "And maybe something else. Something that would make you feel as special as you made me feel when you took care of me."

You were so close to him you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He smelled like the air before a storm, and whiskey. But a little liquid courage never killed anyone.

"Kafka," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face. You were fidgeting with a small piece of his hair as you rest your forehead against his. "Kafka. I ..."

He sat up abruptly, "Oh shit! You're not married, are you? I should have asked, I'm so sorry for showing up here so late. Without any warning." He bowed to you and started for the door.

"Kafka! I'm not married. I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Please, come back. Come sit." You stood and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. "I was going to say I've never felt this way about a patient before. You make me feel like there's something more to life than just my job."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of dishonesty. He couldn't find any. "So, you don't mind me coming here?"

You shook your head. "I don't mind you coming here at all. I'm glad you did. I was just surprised, that's all. Please don't leave. Not yet." You held his hand tighter and urged him back down on the couch with you.

Pulling him back in, kissing him gently on the lips. "I've been wanting you to do that since the first time I saw you, too. But you in terrible pain when you came in. How did you have the presence of mind to want to kiss me when you were so badly beaten up?"

He laughed, "I wasn't beaten up, per se. I just didn't come out on top." He paused for a second, and then continued, "And the pain wasn't as bad as you think. I'm used to it. It's a part of my job. But being here with you, it's like I can forget all of that. And just be me. Kafka. Nothing else."

You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. His lips parted slightly, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue. You moaned softly, shifting so that your legs were wrapped around him. He pulled you onto his lap, and you straddled him, grinding yourself against his crotch.

"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes. "Y/N. You're so beautiful." He reached up and touched your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it gently.

You pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His chest was chiseled and smooth, his abs flexing slightly under his cute belly as he breathed heavily.

You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every muscle and every scar. You kissed his neck, biting it gently and sucking on his skin. "Kafka, I want you. I want you so much."

He pulled your shirt off and threw it next to his. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget all about chocolate."

You stopped, pulling back from his face, and you laughed so hard for the first time in ages. "Oh, that might be the most serious thing anyone has ever said to me. Challenge accepted!"

He pulled you back into him and kissed you, his hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as you ground yourself against him. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you on the bed before climbing on top of you.

You unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, allowing him to see your breasts. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, running his hands over them and squeezing them gently. "You're so beautiful. You know that?"

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it gently as his fingers worked at your pants. He slid them off, revealing your black lace panties. You'd never felt so exposed in your life. And you loved it.

"Kafka, please," you moaned as he sucked harder on your nipple, his hand moving down to rub your clit through your panties. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so bad."

He pulled back, looking at your face. "You want me to fuck you? You want me to make you cum? Oh-hoh baby, I will. I might even cum before you do! But don't lose faith. It's just, well, it's been a while? I guess? But that's not important right now." He leaned in and kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it gently.

"It's ok, Kafka. I want you. I don't care if you cum before me. I just want you inside me. Please, please." You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't believe you were begging like this, but you didn't care. You wanted him so badly.

He nodded and pulled your panties off, throwing them to the floor. He pushed his own pants down and pulled his boxers off with them, his cock set free.

You gasped at the sight. It was so much more than what you saw when he was in the tub. "Jesus, I-"

He looked down, "Oh. That?" He turned his head away, "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure you've seen um, better? But I make up for it in other ways! I promise, y/n. Just give me a chance."

You shook your head and smiled, "That's not at all what I'm trying to say here. There's not a doubt in my mind you won't fuck me stupid, Kafka." You giggled and reached your arms out to pull him down against you.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit as he kissed your neck.

You moaned, "Ohhh, fuck. Yes. Do that." Your hand moved to his ass, squeezing it as he rocked against you.

He pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you out as he went. The slight sting you noticed dissipated as quickly as the onset. You moaned, your nails digging into his back as he started to thrust faster. "Kafka, oh my god. That feels so fucking good. More. I want more, please."

He grunted, his cock sliding in and out of you as you arched your back, grinding yourself against him. He sucked on your nipple again, his tongue flicking over it as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't believe how much he was making you feel. You hadn't had sex in so long, but this was different. This was something else entirely. He was with you. He wasn't just there to get himself off. You'd been with guys like that before and they, more often than not, left you with a (literal) bad taste in your mouth.

Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And the closer you got, the harder your nails dug into his muscular back. "Kaf-hoh shit. Y-that ... pl- fuck. 'M gonna cum ... very … very soon."

He pulled back slightly, looking at your face as you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back. "Me too, baby. Me too. You're so tight, and you feel so good. I can't believe I'm inside of you. Fuck. I'm gonna cum, Y/N. Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He grunted again, his cock twitching inside of you as he came hard, filling you up.

You came with him, your pussy squeezing around his cock as he kept fucking you, slowing his thrusts until he stopped completely.

"Fuck," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face gently. "Kafka."

He smiled and kissed you softly. "RIGHT!?"

You laughed through a yawn at the energy he had when you first met. “Stay? Stay with me. I don’t want you to go. Tonight. Ever.”

He held you close to him, kissing the top of your head and brushing your hair down as you drifted off to sleep against his warm chest.

"Just try’n get rid of me, y/n."

@darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa

@arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess

@bakubunny @reiners-milkbiddies

***If you guys absolutely hate this anime or don't give a shit, please please let me know so I don't keep writing and tagging you in stuff you don't care about! Thanks, mooties! <3***

#kafka hibino #hibino kafka #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kn8 smut #kaiju no. 8 smut #kafka smut #kafka x reader #kafka x you #kafka x y/n #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x you #kafka hibino smut #hibino kafka smut #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #kn8 x y/n

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