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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago

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FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you.

The sixth.

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect.

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out. As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible.

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur.

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this?

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it.

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor.

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often.

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone.

But that’s not the issue right now.

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.”

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter.

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words.

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara."

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince.

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him.

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor.

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts.

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

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httpsghostie · 1 year ago

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Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

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sheisjoeschateau · 10 months ago

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

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Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying. ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair. You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze. Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy. Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut

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seoulmatez · 1 year ago

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୨♡୧ WINDOW TO THE SOUL — dad!gojo. sfw. fluff. i can't stop thinking about papa gojo so pls accept this little blurb :3

“satoru.” you mean for your voice to come out firm but even you can hear the smile behind it. you don’t blame yourself though—how could you not smile at the sight before you?

something about seeing gojo with a baby in his hands seems natural. she’s tiny in his arms, like a fragile glass figure. and even though gojo satoru is the strongest man you know, there’s no chance he’d possibly ever break her. he’s made sure of that much and you can see the promise in his gaze as he stares down at your daughter. when he answers your call, he doesn’t even bother to look in your direction. “hmm?”

“you have to let her sleep.” you keep your voice low but it makes little difference in lulling the girl to sleep when gojo is doing everything in his power to keep her awake. he’s been doing this a lot since you brought the baby home from the hospital a couple months ago, though, you haven’t been able to put your finger on his reasoning behind it. despite his efforts, the little one always drifts off eventually, so you simply drink in the father-daughter time shared between the two of them.

gojo hears you, and he knows you’re right—it’s getting late and her little eyelids are beginning to flutter sleepily, but he can’t help but let his lithe fingers run up and down her chubby cheeks. the soft touch leads to a toothless smile and satoru swears he can see a sparkle twinkle in her eyes as she looks up at him.

it’s moments like these that continuously tempt him to keep the little girl up just a little longer. she makes him believe that eyes are truly the window to the soul because all he sees in hers is unconditional love. no requirements, no expectations, no limitations—just pure, unadulterated love.

satoru never could have imagined he would feel the most worthy in the eyes of a baby.

he cherishes the scene while he can—before she falls asleep for the night, before she grows up and the shiny sparkle in her eye begins to dull with time. he wants to hold onto this little piece of his baby girl for as long as he possibly can.

all too soon, her wispy, white eyelashes are brushing the tops of her cheeks and the girl is off to dreamland. satoru presses a feather-light kiss to his little lady’s forehead and whispers a quiet “goodnight” against her skin.

“you really have a hard time parting with her, huh?” your soft voice sounds from the opposite side of the couch.

it’s only when he looks up and meets your gaze that gojo realizes his daughter’s eyes are a reflection of your own. there are two people in the world who will love him no matter what.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles

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vividraft · 4 months ago

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hellooo, can i pls request some separate hcs with jiyan and jinhsi where their s/o somehow injured their knee and trying to hide it but in the end, they found out about it?

lol i injured my knee so might as well request for some comfort XD

thank you so much! 🙇🏻‍♀️💖

being injured and hiding it ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

⇢ ˗ˏˋ characters: Jinhsi, Jiyan

⇢ ˗ˏˋ readers gender not specified !

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important note: I didn't read that you requested hcs, so now there is hcs for Jiyan ans Jinhsi, but Jiyan additionally get's a little scenario hehe !

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n: thank you so much for your request! It was my very first request and I really really hope you enjoy this

masterlist

Jinhsi:

You guys were on patrol together, clearing out Tacet Discords near Jinzhou

Jinhsi noticed you were already acting weird before you even met up to get started together

but she really couldn’t put a finger on what it was

so she tried to brush it off

emphasis on tried, because she really couldn’t

when watching you fight, your movements seemed sloppy

until she finally brought it up to ask you if you were feeling okay

you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to her. not now not ever

so you tell her how you injured your knee fighting some Tacet Discords the day before

and as much as you try to convince her that you’re fine, you can keep going, and that you’ll walk it off, she insists on heading back with you

she does end up having to drag you back to Jinzhou

then when you guys are back, she makes sure your injuries are treated well

and she pampers you until you are back on your feet (and can walk without limping)

in the end she makes you promise to always tell you if you’re unwell

Jiyan:

Jiyan was supposed to go on a trip with you, which you did

but you ended up encountering some Tacet Discords, and during the fight you get separated

separated for just a second but you manage to get your knee hurt

you try to brush it off as nothing but when you find yourself unable to walk without limping, you are faced with an internal conflict

you really don’t want to be a burden to Jiyan, so you tell him you’re okay

but Jiyan notices. he notices everything

so you guys walk a little, you trotting behind him with a limp, hoping Jiyan won’t notice

and yet, despite all your efforts, Jiyan ends up confronting you

and even when you continue to tell him that you’re fine and can keep going, he sweeps you up in his arms to carry you back to Jinzhou

he isn’t mad at you, but he is worried about you, and your self neglecting habits of forcing yourself beyond your own borders when you’re clearly injured

but of course you do end up apologizing for lying to him

he is just glad that he gets to make sure that you’re going to be okay

bonus scenario !

Jiyan was basically right around the corner. You both were traveling together, fighting off some tacet discords, when you were separated. There was only one last Flautist left, and you were just about to tear through it with your sword, when you felt a sudden pain against your knee.

In the last second, you were able to defeat the Tacet Discord, before it could follow up with a second attack. And it was also right second before Jiyan came dashing around the corner.

“You okay?”, the question wasn’t asked because he suspected anything, it was more genuine worry about your well-being. Just how Jiyan was kinda always worried about you.

There was a throbbing pain in your knee, which hurt when you stood. Or walked. It hurts no matter what. But you didn’t join Jiyan traveling just so you could be the reason to head back to Jinzhou on the first day.

“Of course I’m okay! The fight was a breeze!”, you forced a smile on your face, even though you felt bad for lying to Jiyan. You suddenly forgot how you would have answered his question even if you were okay.

Jiyan wasn’t blind. He could see the twitch in your eyelid in your forced smile. Yet he wasn’t going to pry.

“Ookayyy. Come on. There might be more Tacet Discords ahead”, you nodded and wanted to follow up behind him. That was until you took a step, and the pain really hit you. Now, whenever you walked, you limped.

You tried your best to hide your limping, but you were significantly slower than Jiyan.

And Jiyan noticed. He noticed from the beginning that something was off. He definitely watched you like a hawk.

You were way too busy trying to pretend like everything was fine, and trying to keep up with Jiyan, that you didn’t even notice that you guys were walking in a circle, suddenly back at the place where you were originally injured.

Your knee was swelling up a little, and Jiyan noticed even before you.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”, Jiyan stopped walking, turned around and crossed his arms right in front of you. Unfortunately for you, because you were mid limp.

“Uh… no what- what would there possibly be… are we in the same spot as we were 30 minutes ago?”, the realization that you were in the same spot painted confusion on your face.

“Do you really think you can just lie to my face? I noticed you were injured when we were standing in this very spot. Now don’t deny it”, you couldn’t tell if Jiyan was actually angry with you or just concerned. And you weren’t about to push it any further.

“Okay, okay, yeah some Tacet Discord gave me a direct blow to the knee and now it hurts a little, but it’s totally fine! I can keep going, no need for a break or anything!”, you were frantically waving your arms around, trying to signal that you were fine.

Jiyan wasn’t having any of it. He merely sighed before swooping you up into his arms.

With a yelp you tried to fight yourself out of his arms.

“If you want me to head back, I can do it on my own! I can still see Jinzhou from here”, you argued. But Jiyan shook his head.

“I need to make sure you’re being treated properly for your injury”

What followed were long moments of silence, while the air was filled with worry, and regret from you. At some point Jiyan suggested giving you a piggyback ride instead of carrying you bridal style, and you now wrapped your arms around him.

The sun was slowly setting, and you knew that Jiyan’s trip had to be postponed for a few days at least.

“Hey Jiyan…”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you about being injured. I should have just told you and headed back”, you apologized, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Don’t apologize, I understand your actions, and I wouldn’t have taken this trip without you anyways. Besides now I get to make sure you’re injury is being handled well”, Jiyan reassured you.

“I love you too”, you smiled.

#wuthering waves #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jinhsi x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa hcs #! vivis drafts

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theoreticaltranstherian · 9 months ago

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Jumping on the bandwagon woo-hoo

no spam reblog or spam comment ;P

For every 100 reblogs I'll drink another bottle of water

Update: Ive drank almost 2 whole water bottles in the last 3 days which isn't much proportionally but for one, I'd probably not even drink one if it wasn't for the internet critters in my phone telling me to and also, yk, thats alot of water compared to my last few weeks getting all my fluids from food

10 reblogs: Go to bed before midnight tonight

50 reblogs: I'll make my bed in the mornings for a week

Update: I found out that my bed being made kinda stresses me out for some reason, it's just so neat I get scared, and so instead I am putting away 3 pieces of clothing that have been clean for months and i just haven't touched every morning :D

75 reblogs: I'll work on getting accommodations for my autism at school

Update: I don't have the required "proof of diagnosis" and I'd have to wait 2 years or so to get it and I won't be in school anymore at that point, so I'm working with my counselors to see what they can do aside from official autism accommodations

125 reblogs: I'll work in upping my failing grade in math

Update: Math test retake on the 12tg, wish me luck!

150 reblogs: I'll work on my dopamine addiction and get help

Update: Hooooooly shit addictions are hard. I'm going to start a timer for time between uses of YouTube shorts or Instagram reels in an effort to reduce my need for instant gratification and try to replace every time I pick my phone up with drawing or reading or talking to people around me.

200 reblogs: I'll post my art that I've been self conscious about posting

Update: I am really happy for this, it's finally an excuse for me to make myself post my art :D it's probably gonna be 1-2 drawings per post with a little background with each :3

300k reblogs: I'll start cleaning up my room

400k reblogs: I'll clean out my bag (God pls don't get to 400 yall T T)

500: I'll get sharp objects out of my room

1k reblogs: I'll be really happy :0

Edit; Added more goals

2k reblogs: I'll start streaming on twitch again!!!

3k reblogs: I'll empty out my drafts

5k: I come out as trans to my parents (I don't know if they're transphobic so to speak, but they are of the mindset that "do whatever you want once you're out of our house but until then you are our kid" but I wanna be like um no actually-)

5.5k: I come out as trans to my non-transphobic grandma

6k: I come out as trans to my transphobic grandma

Edit 2; Yo same picture of the earth reblogged me?!? the picverse found this?!?! that's insane xd

Edit 4; I added some coming out goals because I'm not gonna do it if I don't have the pressure from hundreds of little things in my phone cheering me on xd

Pinging moots so there's at least a small chance of any of these happening xd

@calimewzz @annotated-catastrophe @glitched-out-dusk @life-is-okay-rn

#now I can blame my personal failures on a lack of internet fame #instead of my own inability to function properly #>:D

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octopotto · 1 year ago

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Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you.

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma.

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills.

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you.

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself.

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero.

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new.

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

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that1emowitch · 1 month ago

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here me out

AU where instead of doing the whole red hood thing, jason just stays with the all caste. he finally meets the batfam when the justice league is facing a threat and need the help of the all caste. could be pretty good angst, since it directly disproves every shitty thing bruce said about jay, and bruce realises that his son was alive like way later than in canon

also it's a crime that jayessence basically doesn't exist, there are 11 fics on ao3. i want jayessence and competent!jason pls

That'll be so interesting, ur right! I'm definitely gonna go read RHATO issues again so I refresh my memory (if there r any other issues with the all-caste story PLEASE lmk cuz i have a very tumultuous love/hate relationship with RHATO lol)

I think Jason would've been happier, with the All-Caste. Talia would've visited him when she could (let's make her a mom not a pedo), Ducra would've trained him in every single war form she knew, putting hum on a path to surpass even her

Essence and Jay would've been her top students (if u don't mind, could u pls give me a lil recap on what Essence's story is? I kinda got confused in that part. Was she banished? She's one of the Untitled, technically, is she not? I don't rmbr 😭)

But basically, Jayessence! I've never read a fic about it or written one, but I've always thought it was an interesting dynamic! It'd be fun to try writing it out. Maybe I'll make a happier AU, where Essence and Jason train together under Ducra, both of them named her heirs. That kinda makes them play-fight with each other which ends up with them kissing. Oh god Jason would be so smitten by her, he'd pretend to be annoyed but he knows she's a goddess, knows she could kill him in a blink, knows his blade could kill her—but they both choose to love. AAHHABSBSHS I'm dying

Then the Untitled attack.

I love Ducra so much, she's their BAMF Granny, so let's not kill her. Maybe instead, she is kidnapped, in hopes of getting Jason and Essence to surrender (They know these two could destroy them). And at the same time, the Untitled are also attacking JLA outposts, for a reason I'll come up with later. Bruce remembers, back when he trained under the League, Ra's mentioning evil beings of this type, immortal and unstoppable by all but the All-Caste. Hence they seek their help.

And with Ducra gone, Jason and Essence are in charge, and they have to meet with the JLA—with Batman, Superman, and WW, specifically.

Jason makes sure to cover himself completely. Puts white nose generators in his mask and chest plate to ward off Supes. Makes sure to double, triple check his voice modulator. He cannot risk them finding out his true identity.

Not when he's finally recovering from his past as Robin.

I'm imaging they work together for a while, with everyone noticing the Red Hood (would he still be called Red Hood, if he never returned to Gotham? Maybe? Maybe he was reclaiming it, as a way to heal himself instead of for getting revenge) basically everyone notices RH being antsy around Batman. The amount of effort he puts into concealing his identity, unlike the other members of All-Caste. His name being Joker’s old name, something deeply meaningful to Gothamites.

Batman thinks RH is a reformed Gotham villain, who he's dealt with before. He thinks that's why RH doesn't ever face him, doesn't look him in the eye. He feels bad for him, but is strangely proud (just feel like mentioning, the thing about Batman is, he cares SO MUCH. About everyone. He feels sorrow when they lose themselves to their insanity, feels guilt over it. And he feels pride when they bounce back, grow better, like Harley Quinn did.) Like, this man, this absolute machine, clearly well honed and trained, who seems more than capable of taking on the entire Justice League by himself. Clearly he has experience.

Essence helps Jason through it. Soothes him at night when he has panic attacks, because his Dad is two rooms away from him. Helps him cope. Helps him calm down.

Then one day in some battle, one of the Untitled fatally injures Jason, and Batman is the only one nearby. Batman takes a hasty decision, rips Jason's mask off to save him.

And freezes.

That... that's his son. He looks older, more scarred, but thats... that's his SON!

(ALSO another addition: when they find Ducra she's like "uncuff me, and I'll show you just who Essence and Jason learnt from" BAMF!DUCRA FOR LIFEE)

Sorry for the rambling I just kept getting ideas and I kept writing lol

I promise I'll write this as a proper story as soon as I can, thanks so much for the ask! As usual, lmk in the comments if you'd like me to tag u in updates, also feel free to share any ideas u have! I'm just writing what yall want to read that makes me happy hehe

#note to self: write this later #jason todd #batfam #batman #red hood #all caste jason todd #justice league #fanfic #essence #ask

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crucifiedkiss · 2 months ago

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◌ೆ୧　 ͢YOUR MAIL HAS BEEN DELIEVERED ♡

𓈒⠀⠀⁺⠀𝜗 crucifiedkiss ╱ p. jackson x gn! reader 𝜚

ꨄ︎ drbl ++ hcs dating percy pt2. ⏤ ﹙cupid﹚ 🪽 ˖ ׁ ⁩

ಲ ͏ㅤ ׅㅤㅤcw: show!percy (i havent read the book(s) ...), season not specified, requested by 🦇anon ♡, ooc (proudly), not much plot, kissing (obv ..), fluff, silly teenagers being silly teenagers, drabble (drbl) ++ headcanons (hcs), drbl is pre-dating/before dating, YAPPING SO HARD IM SO SRRY 😭😭ㅤ✿𝅼

( ｡>﹏<) "YIPPEEEE TY 44 THE REQUEST !!! percy jackson my sweet bb GRAAHHHH !!! enjoy ml 🫂 IVE STARTED READING PJO BTW GUYS IM ON THE 2ND ONE (THE SEA OF MONSTERS) :3" ⏤ c.k.　と

　ㅤ، ׁ 　 ͢🦇ANON SENT A LETTER ♡

ㅤㅤ❛ ⠀⠀YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD??? AND YOUR ART??? AUGHH eats your art (it tastes like marshmallows) ^,_,^ can you write literally anyone from percy jackson... 🫂 :3 SORRY I DONT HAVE ANY PROMPT IDEAS😪⠀⠀— 🦇

𝜗୧ ּ݂⠀💌 dating percy jackson would include ﹗

　　　⏤　 him being extra soft when having to spar/practice fighting with u. the way his movements r a little more sluggish in a way, hesitant to put full force into attacking u, him usually ending up letting u win just so he can see that victorious look on ur face which leaves him happy for the rest of the day knowing he made u happy :3 the way he sheepishly laughs when u ask if he is actually putting effort to which he just shrugs and awkwardly rubs his nape, rejecting eye contact. he rlly wasnt a good liar😓 ... the way he barely even tries to swing at u but still does, not wanting to seem like he has completely no spark to him. the way he waits until ur fully gone before huffing, mumbling smth abt how its kinda embarrassing to act like a noob at sparring .. it was worth it tho to see ur the glee on ur face :) he never did want to hurt u, practicing or not. if he did, ur getting DRAGGED to someone as he begs for them to see if ur hurt rlly bad (has done this before definitely when u fell and scraped ur knee just BARELY or smth) (<- just wants u to be ok) (<- biggest green flag lowkey...❗) u have to tell him desperately that ur fine or else he is just going to proceed to bring u to someone to help u

　　　⏤　 kissing percy and him tasting like seasalt .. could u expect anything less tho? not in a bad way or anything, but he just tasted like the ocean physically lived in his mouth 24/7. never tell him so tho, he will whine like a baby and deny it – for a guy who likes water so much, he seems not to like that certain information. if u do tell him, no matter the amount of reassuring, he is brushing his tongue extra good that night and next morning, leaving you feeling slightly bad. it, of course, the taste doesnt go away. he is literally the son of poseidon: why WOULD it go away ??? be wary tho, it will leave ur mouth tasting of the same seasalt ,,, good thing is is that the taste is more faint, only lasting for a minute or two before fading ! hope u can last that long with the taste of the literal sea ..! ^_^" .... him being nervous abt kissing u aswell thooo. like, not nervous like "OH MY GOD UR MY FIRST KISS SAHSOHDODNWKX" or whtvr, but like "oh jeez ur rlly cool and stuff and what if i mess this up and and and" type nervous. normally, he was a confident and outgoing person, but smth about u just makes me a lil stiff in his movements – he does eventually get better, but would probably be vry hesitant at first ... idk idk just a thought :3 OMG WAIT: him, on a few occasions, wearing blue lipstick on purpose just for the reason he knows it will show up a LOT better and because it is rlly fun to see u frantically trying to wipe away the lipstick as percy smiles mischeviously. he looks a lil silly with the blue lipstick on but seeing ur face covered in lipstick marks from HIM ??? physically giggles, kicks his feet, and twirls his hair at night thinking about ur face covered in those lipstick marks (he is a little delulu pls excuse him😞) ... overall likes seeing ur skin covered with the pretty blue. would do it again and again and again and again and .. yeah .. SRRY FOR YAPPING BUT ALSO ???? ESKIMO KISSES ??? the tired giggle he lets out in the morning as he gives u the faint brush of his nose against urs is make me SICK thinking of it /pos does this as a way to say goodmorning :3 also, absolutely would BEGGG for a spiderman kiss. he doesnt know how to initiate it, but the moment ur upside down, he is SPRINTING 😭😭 pls do a spiderman kiss he is inlove with the idea. like ... a kiss ?? upside down ?? lowkey chaotic but in a cool way ??? yippee !!! sign him up !!! ALSO ALSO: tango dip kisses (dipping someone down, usually done during a dance/tango dancing, and kissing them), butterfly kisses (kissing someones eyelashes), underwater kiss (self explanatory, but kissing underwater), ETC. !!! sign him up🗣🗣🔥🔥

　　　⏤　 him worrying about everything he does, thinking about what u would think abt him doing this one thing. "is my hair curled enough today? i hope they like it ...", "would they appreciate the small details on this outfit?", "would they like my different cologne? would they even notice it?" type of thinking. takes everything into consideration and rlly hopes u notice the small things he does for u. makes sure it doesnt seem desperate .. works sometimes. always asking annabeth her opinion on stuff, assuming she would know tons on u, true or not. cue annabeth coming up to u one day and huffing abt percy practically daily asking her questions about u – he is just trying to be sweet but oh my gods😓 always yapping. takes u into consideration with almost every action/decision he does lowkey😭 has saved him plenty of times honestly ... not all the time tho cause he is still the silly dumb person he is but /silly/pos

　　　⏤　 him absolutely hyping u UP and just being rlly sweet/supportive !!! oh, ur feeling down ?? immediate compliment and a chasted kiss to ur cheek. having a bad day ?? gently brushing his knuckles against urs, just to remind u that he is open to talk about anything at any moment ... etc. etc. he is HAPPY to give u a new compliment/fresh joke each day if that is what makes u happy or just anything u enjoy. u like rocks ?? gives u tons. u like astrology ?? getting u a telescope so u can look at the stars and books on stuff like such, AND SO MUCH MORE !!! just wants to support what u like doing, featuring motivating and joyous grins. never turning down a opportunity to let u know ur doing amazing or just doing ur best, sneaking a few silly flirts in there aswell cause its PERCY were talking abt😭

　　　⏤　 lingering everything. and by that i mean: lingering touches, lingering stares, lingering ... everything, as said. just seems like the person to be rlly obvious with how much he loves u. the touches were so gentle, as if a feather just lightly caressing over the skin, and the stares were so loving that u would expect his pupils to be practically shaped into hearts and the ocean blue of his eyes overall would become a pink-ish color just filled with affection alone and seeming as if he had been blessed by aphrodite themselves. it is such a painfully obvious thing that he just cant help, wanting to let his touch stay a little longer to feel the nice comforting feel of ur skin against just the tips of his fingers, his gaze to dash all over ur face as he tries deciding what to actually stare at which ultimately ends up everytime on ur own eyes just a little longer– he wanted time as a whole to stop just so he could stare at u forever. maybe it was the way the sun just beautifully illuminated ur skin, the way ur eyes shimmered ... blah blah blah. ur perfect in his eyes, case closed !!

dating this, dating that. it was always romantic stuff these days. percy never found the appeal at first, making a playful gag sound as someone longed on about their one and only. it wasnt like he never thought of having a partner of sorts, but it just seemed, well, weird, which was understandable for a kid of his age. being young, desiring a relationship could be likely, sure, but with percy he was unsure. as life progressed, he slowly came to realization that a partner could not only be a romantic interest he, himself, could long about like others have, but also be someone he could just lean onto at times. arguably, a partner was someone he could just really be himself with.

with ever-so much hesitancy, he slowly got into the loving life, and gods he never regrets it. maybe fate, maybe not, but the fact he stumbled upon you just on the day he finally decided to try out dating was a miracle to him. you left his heart clenching comfortably, stomach swirling with feelings he was just never sure of. was this what love truly felt like? maybe you were the one. he prayed to every god out there and to aphrodite specifically that he wouldnt stumble over his words like a love-sickened idiot.

would you even like him? his hair was really messy today. maybe you would like his messy hair? gods, he was thinking to deeply into this. youre just another person at camp. 'calm down,' he thought to himself and, obviously, it hadnt worked. when has that ever worked for him, realistically? whatever. off topic.

first time speaking to you and he, embarrassingly enough, had stuttered and his voice cracked about three times – great going percy, absolutely peachy job! one awkward conversation later, you surprisingly became his friend. he didnt know how that even happened, thinking on the spot of you seeing him that you would just ignore him or something ... where was his confidence? he sighed in relief nonetheless, knowing that with enough encouragement from him—and likely others because he was horrible at both keeping and hiding secrets—, that he would maybe have a chance.

"just say tons of jokes. maybe they like jokes ... gods i hope they like jokes." he mumbled to himself before slowly beginning to walk towards you, pace so slow it would almost seem like he dreaded talking to you which was quite the opposite. just talk. that was simple enough, right? hes got this, hes got this.

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dimepdf · 2 years ago

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TAIYO MY LOVE I DIDNT KNOW YOU LIKED ERROR 143 TOO😭 PLS IM ON MY KNEES FOR SOME MICAH CONTENT FROM YOU (if you dont write for him just ignore this)

★ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. + 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐇 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐍

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. the movie date you go on with Micah ends up being a bit more than PG-13.

─── ☆ notes. i'm always willing to help a fandom in need,, also just finished the game like yesterday and the way i instantly logged in a scrolled for fanfic i need to be TAMED .

─── ☆ length. 2.2k words (22 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, idiots in love, takes place after good ending, praise kink, Exhibitionism, handjob, oral sex(male receiving), height difference, size kink, cheesy fluff, movie date, consent is sexy, Micah’s is a head pusher, comment if i miss something | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Perhaps it was strange to let the man you had just met online persuade you to go on a movie date with him.

A swarm of not only butterflies but possibilities clouding your thoughts—mostly concerns given the fact that this all could be a trap to lure you away from your home just to kidnap you, or worse, maybe he was just a massive fuckboy toying with your emotions all this time.

However, there you were, nervously shifting your weight as you waited for Micah to arrive as you stood close to the entrance.

It had been a while since you had experienced such anxiety, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering at just the mere thought of some boy like you were back in middle school.

Maybe the reason you had felt like this was that Micah had put you under some strange spell, and you wanted to curse him and his stupid golden eyes, and his stupid lips, and his stupid face.

Oh brother, you had it bad.

He wasn't hard to miss due to his tall, goofy build, which gave the impression that he was some sort of model strutting down the runway. Once he caught your attention, how dare he look so good a shiver ran down your spine making you straighten up once his sight was on you.

“Well don’t you look beautiful Angel,” his screen lit bright catching sight of his lock screen.

You had caught just a glimpse of it the day he had first visited you: a very adorable picture of Skrunkly all dressed up in a dinosaur onesie. Just as you caught a glimpse before it had been tucked away in his jean pocket.

“I should be telling you that.” His attire was usual, nothing out of the ordinary from what you had seen him in the comfort of his own home.

Ripped jeans and a neon sweatshirt that was pulled just above the bend of his elbow gripping the muscle against his golden brown forearm, you had to stop yourself from drooling over him let alone reaching out to touch him like a kid in a candy store.

Though Micah on the other hand could read your mind, as much as that would have been really cool.

Instead despite your efforts of self-control he is the first to wrap his arms around your torso lifting you just to the tips of your toes against his hard chest into a bear hug enticing you with a laugh to break the tension.

“Oh my gosh hi,” you giggle with your cheek pressed against his shirt, “did you miss me or something?” Micah lets out a shy noise, something close enough to a whimper to have you figuratively clutching your pearls.

Nothing could ever brace you for hearing all the little noises Micah would make in real life. “Hm maybe?” he drags out, the hum of his voice comforting you as he lets you go.

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, the eye contact makes you both melt as his smile curls into a bashful expression, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

You weren't naive nor blind you saw that Micah had practically towered over you but there was just something about seeing his slender fingers completely engulf yours that made your nerves tingle from the contact.

You also saw Micah would stare at you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on like you were the most beautiful good in the world to him.

Which was ironic, given that you also thought the same about him as well. “Do you wanna go in now?” you manage out, still standing in his touch despite offering neither of you moves, both almost afraid to pull away first.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he says almost breathlessly.

Being the first to pull away you offer him a small smile, your fingers still laced together as you step away the small squeeze of his hands in yours giving comfort as he follows behind you almost like a lost puppy.

Even despite his large build and tall height, Micah was really just an anxious nerd who liked to cover up his anxiety with bold confidence and sarcasm.

Micah finds ease in watching you guide him through the theater taking lead as if he hadn't looked like some scary guard dog lingering behind you.

The movie you chose was something based on your favorite novel, a romance no-brainer months ago.

When you had first seen the trailer, you never would have thought you’d be seeing it while having the same shy relationship as the main characters instead of torrenting off of some rip-off movie site with a hentai ad in the corner.

Micah, being the gentleman, was offered to buy snacks, convincing you that since you were the one to buy the tickets it would only be fair for you to let him spoil you with snacks.

You were weary of it even with the knowledge of him having a hefty amount of money tucked away in his many accounts.

It only took him a flash of that adorable toothy smile to have you pipe down and walk to the cinema room with his arms occupied with the list of snacks that he had convinced you to try.

The theater seats were mostly empty with only a handful of people occupying the seats making it possible for you and Micah to slip to the back right before the lights could dim.

Exciting not just from the movie but sitting so close to Micah as the screen flits to life makes it hard for you to settle comfortably in your seat practically trembling as you sucked down your blue slushie.

And as the movie continues, you realize why there weren't many people occupying the seats.

You wanted to give it a chance, hoping that maybe the Hollywood famous actors would be able to save the rest of the film as it continues.

But you're still bored. Not even the pile of snacks could help you from your mood souring as from the time you had turned your head Micah had managed to completely inhale almost everything within your taste.

The man doesn't at all seem too fazed by the horrible hating let alone the choppy plot in fact he just looked happy to be there.

His big glistening eyes and fisting a handful of popcorn in his mouth yet he had still managed to look so perfect under the movie's light.

You had felt so embarrassed finding his dazed and confused look so attractive he was practically good enough to eat.

So you do the closest thing to that, shoulder bumping into him as you lean over the armrest and place a peck just against his cheek.

The gesture catches him severely off guard flinching at the feeling of your lips against his skin.

Before he could open his mouth and protest you lean in for another, this time with him facing you so your lips could meet, and the first thing you notice was how he tasted like chocolate and the flavor from your slushie that you shared.

You wanted to taste more, pressing your tongue into his mouth a small sigh of contentment rolling from his throat as he parts his lips for his tongue to meet yours.

It feels different not from his split tongue but his piercing ball that was cold from the ice from your drink.

When pulling away the first thing you see is Micah's frowned expression almost as if he were in concern about why you had just decided to suddenly pounce on him. “Uh, thank you?” The cute reaction keeps you from leaning in again, having to cover your mouth from laughing out loud.

“Oh shut the hell up.'' He doesn't bother retaliating instead taking the lead with the palm of his head reaching to rest gently around your throat, the pressure of his palm not enough to choke you but instead better to angle you just right for his kiss.

You're convinced that he could hear your heart thumping against your chest, wanting to break from your rib cage just to present itself to him.

The thumping only gets louder as his fingers hover lower towards your thighs, and the kiss only gets more intense feeling your other heartbeat as Micah’s hand grasps at the flesh as if he needed to hold onto something so tightly to keep himself from bursting at the seams.

“I kinda wanna leave,” you whisper into his ear after breaking away again, Micah makes a small noise of the struggle.

His head ducked away from your voice as a reaction to the sexual implication of your offer.

You had practically seen the man's tits and yet here he was squirming in his seat not being able to look you in the eyes. “Don't you wanna finish the movie first?” His tone is whiny, dragging at the question in a way that hinted that he too felt the alluring feeling boiling in his chest and that only added more fuel to the flame inside of you.

“I kinda wanna suck your dick though,” you say bluntly, almost panting at the way Micah’s eyes widened.

His canines poked from his mouth as he bit back his lip even in the dim light had you seen the way his cheeks turned a dark shade of purple. “Unless you want me to do it here?”

Micah hesitates, his lips parting to answer but closing the moment his eyes flickering to yours just to look back at the screen.

Instead of nodding his head, spreading his legs apart even with his eyes glued to the screen.

You waited to watch him for another sign of confirmation, your hopes being answered as his hand engulfs your wrist. The feeling of his fingers trembling against your skin as he places his hand on top of his erection.

There was just something about him being so excited. So needy for you that he had managed to be so hot and bothered as you felt up the outline of him.

Squeezing and groping at the hilt of his dick watching the way Micah twitched and fidgeted under your hand.

The hitch of his breath as you unzip his jeans and finally break through his layer of clothing. “It's big,” you muttered dumbly as his length twitched against your grasp.

“Oh my fucking god.” Micah leans his head back against the headrest, covering his face with his hands as his body reacts out of his control.

Fully had you pulled his dick out exposed, you're a bit nervous only allowing your hand to do what you assumed was natural when in reality all you really wanted to do was yank down your pants and take him until he was buried inside of you nice and snug. “Can I put my mouth on it?”

You swear that you had just witnessed Micah physically reboot, his hands pulled back just enough to peek over at your eyes glancing over with that same nervous look. “Please.” he whimpers, promptly turning his head away once more.

And who were you to ever reject his pleas, having to angle yourself over the armrest just to hunch over his lap Micah readjusts himself for you to have better access to your mouth.

Your tongue glides against his tip tasting not exactly what you had expected cum would taste, feeling his hips jolt a bit as your mouth wraps around him.

It takes Micah everything he has to not outright groan from how good your mouth had felt around his dick, the feeling of getting a blowjob with a bunch of strangers in the room only adding to the feeling as he squeezed his eyes closed.

His hips stutter with every tug and pull of your hand, working at the base of his dick the length that you couldn't get to with your mouth.

Your head bobbed up and down working for his orgasm: the small noises he couldn't help to hold back only being covered by the volume of the movie speakers loud enough to be a whisper were his small moans.

The feeling is just so unbearable, his hands wandering to the back of your head only with the intention of holding back your hair to get a clear view.

But the moment that his fingers wrap around he couldn’t help but press down just a smidge and the noise that you make around his dick makes him want to cum down your throat right then and there.

His senses come too as you pinch his thigh instead of glaring at him even as you crawl to the floor in between his thighs the new look of determination written all over your face.

A whole new angle just perfect enough to fully deepthroat him, Micah swearing under his breath as your mouth coaxes an orgasm from him.

It takes a moment for him to gain his composure, kneeling in the aisle licking your lips, and meeting his gaze.

Giving him a small smile, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, the brush of his thumb against your bottom lip making you open your mouth with frowned brows watching as the male processes that you had swallowed all of him.

The way his dazed expression crumbles to something else, your eye catching the attention of something else. “Oh, you’re hard again.”

tap here to be added to taglist.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#micah yujin #micah yujin x reader #micah yujin smut #error 143 #visual novel #otome game

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tumbleweed-run · 1 year ago

Text

Puppet On a String

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 14 Selfcest/Cloning

“He’s a bit like a doll,” Gale said looking over at you.

You were focused on him, well another him.

“ A puppet?” You offered, hand straying to the necklace you wore.

Real Gale’s head cocked to the side in consideration before giving a short nod. “Yes, I suppose so.”

The puppet just stood there in the center of your bedroom and blinked. You hadn’t activated control yet so this very accurate puppet Gale was more or less a lifeless toy.

You’d met a version of him back in the Shadowlands, one that beckoned you to a clearing and to Gale. It had piqued your interest that night, he’d been corporeal in a way that most mirror images weren’t. But you’d forgotten about him for some time, other things taking precedence.

After about the tenth question regarding this puppet, Gale had offered to create him. It was more than an incantation, something requiring numerous ingredients to create the shell. You could now appreciate the work Gale had put into him while on the road, all an effort to make that night special.

The form wasn’t permanent, Gale assumed he’d last about a day unless dismissed. He also couldn’t withstand much in the way of damage, that didn’t matter tonight. Because as soon as Gale had offered to recreate him your mind had turned down a far less academic road. Which Gale had, of course, realized.

What he didn’t realize was that the reason you wanted to control the puppet was for a far more depraved reason than desiring a two-person threesome. You’d get to that.

“He’s very accurate,” you mused taking the time to appreciate that little fact.

The puppet was conjured naked (which explained why he’d worn Gale’s armor that night) and was very accurate in all ways. Gale seemed amused by your reaction. He was also the only one in the room with any clothes on. You’d stripped and climbed onto the bed not long after the puppet was made.

“So I just repeat the incantation and I’ll be in control of him?” You wanted to be certain.

“One must think in directives but yes,” Gale agreed, but he paused, “Are you sure you don’t wish me to control it?”

You shook your head, “I’m very certain of what I want.”

Your wizard had the sense of mind to look concerned.

You repeated the incantation as Gale had taught you and almost immediately you felt the link. It was not unlike the link the tadpoles had formed between you and the others, this felt more like being linked to emptiness.

All you had to think was about walking and he did. You were impressed, you’d assumed it would be clumsy like other magical creations but he did a very passable job of imitating Gale. Or maybe that was because your mind had given the puppet that knowledge. It was a strange thought and one you didn’t wish to focus on right now.

The puppet came to a stop before Gale once more.

“Shall we start?” Gale asked looking to you.

You nodded but the puppet didn’t move.

Gale glanced between the two of you for a moment. “Dear, what exactly did you have in mind?” His voice had risen.

You did your very best to adapt a wide-eyed pleading look, which was admittedly difficult given how turned on you were getting. With great joy you realized the puppet was doing the same. “I was thinking,” you drawled, “I could watch.”

Gale swallowed harshly. You didn’t know how to read the flush crawling across his skin, he didn’t seem angry though.

“Do you really think me that conceited?” He asked sounding offended.

Immediately, you shook your head. “No, it’s not you,” you reminded him rising up on your knees, about to go to him, “It’s me, I control him. So it would just be us, like normal.”

“This is very not normal,” Gale asserted.

“Is it really any different than when you pleasure yourself?”

“Yes.” Gale was very firm in that belief apparently.

You pouted. “I want to watch you fuck yourself,” you did your best to make it sound like the most normal request.

Gale froze and you breathed.

“If I say yes,” he began.

“Oh please,” you begged.

“If I say yes, you cannot breathe a word to anyone.”

“I will keep this locked in my head forever,” you promised.

Vaguely, you realized Gale was giving in rather quickly. Too quickly. It occurred to you, not for the first time, that this may not be the first time he’d considered fucking himself with this puppet. Or maybe it hadn’t been him those other times, maybe he’d created puppets of someone else.

Either way, his quick consideration left you with a million questions.

“He doesn’t feel,” Gale reminded you, “I had considered trying to find a way to give sensation feedback to the controller, but I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Now you were certain he’d at least considered this.

“He can speak though,” He continued unaware you were on to him, “try.”

You drew on the experience from your former parasite.

“Hello.” The puppet spoke.

“Oh,” you said breathlessly, “I can do a lot with this.”

Gale, again, had the sense of mind to appear a bit alarmed by your reactions. You grinned at him, wickedly.

The puppet reached forward and place a hand on Gale’s hip, fingers holding on loosely to the material of his shirt that hung there.

“Are you sure?” The puppet spoke.

Gale was enraptured by the puppet now, eyes skating over its form. Then he nodded, licking his lips as he did. You smiled, and the puppet did as well. Wizards and their egos.

Gale was unusually passive as the puppet removed his shirt. Not resistant just not participating as you’d hoped.

“Touch me,” the puppet said, and delighted you realized his intonation changed at your whim.

Gale’s eyes dashed to yours. You pouted rather dramatically, very careful to not transfer this to the puppet. Gale reached out and resting his hand against the puppet’s chest. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly enough for you to continue. He was pliant as the puppet pulled down his pants, instead of letting them fall to the floor he knelt, guiding them the whole way.

Gale’s brain may have been unsure, but already his cock was interested.

The puppet remained kneeling, though he braced his hands on Gale’s thighs, looking up at him.

Your breath was stolen for a moment, immensely distracted by the tableau in front of you.

Slowly, giving Gale all the time in the world to back out, the puppet leaned towards his cock. When Gale didn’t object, the puppet pulled him into it’s mouth. Gale moaned, his head dropping back. This part would be a little tricky, you realized, normally, this was done by sensation. Not knowledge.

“I need you to help here,” you warned him, “don’t hold back.”

Gale nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.

The puppet began working it’s tongue. Gale moaned, a hand immediately coming up to thread through it’s hair. His hair.

You drew on every memory where you’d been in the puppet’s place. It seemed enough because Gale was moaning freely. The brief glimpses you caught of his cock when the puppet pulled back confirmed he was completely hard now.

“This is very, very wrong,” Gale groaned, in contrast to his words though, his grip in the puppet’s hair had tightened.

You saw an opportunity.

The puppet pulled back. “Fuck my mouth?” it pleaded, turning overly familiar puppy dog eyes upwards.

Gale looked down, eyes blown wide before looking to you. “Is that… is that how I sound?” he was torn between the two of you.

You laughed, “yes and no. But,” you supplied helpfully, “that is how you look.”

Gale swore but gripped his cock. He led it back to the puppet who eagerly swallowed it down. Both of Gale’s hand went to it’s hair though he paused. You worked hard to remember the feeling of your own throat when you went pliant below someone. Subconsciously your own muscles did just that. It worked, it seemed, because Gale slowly began thrusting into the puppet’s mouth.

As you watched Gale fuck his own mouth, you slid your hand between your thighs. Unsurprisingly, you were wet, you had been just at the idea of this little venture. But to see it actually come to life was lighting things within you that could not be normal.

You’d never been normal.

Gingerly you began rubbing your clit, careful not to lose focus on the puppet’s controls. You moaned, and then the puppet did. Gale followed, enjoying whatever sensation the sound had brought on. He was fucking into the puppet’s mouth far rougher than he’d ever dared to do to yours.

You rolled your flattened tongue, imagining the weight of Gale’s cock on it. Gale cursed under his breath, hips slamming into it in a way that would have damaged a real person.

You were thrilled to see him this uncontrolled.

“I dont…” Gale began, and immediately, the puppet stopped it’s ministrations with it’s mouth. “I don’t want to come in his mouth,” Gale continued after taking a moment to catch his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, or him?” You asked breathlessly.

“You, always,” Gale answered pulling away from the puppet.

Quickly, you straightened your legs, and then he was there. Gale’s fingers found your center before he’d even gotten onto the bed. One digit immediately slid into you.

“You’re so wet,” He said sliding his finger in and out of you, you whined, falling back onto your elbows. “There is so much wrong with us,” Gale said softly before adding a second finger.

You smiled, happy he hadn’t singled you out in the wrongness of this situation. Instead, it was the two of you together, as it would always be. You moved the puppet behind him, taking care for it to walk noisily so as not to take Gale off guard.

“Oil on his fingers,” you directed, the puppet lifted it’s hand.

Gale pivoted slightly and then there was as sheen across the puppet’s fingers, dripping down it’s palm.

“You inside me first” you directed breathlessly.

Gale grabbed your hips and dragged you further down the bed. In the same motion, he slid into you. You moaned. Locking your legs around Gale’s thigh you shook your head in an effort to focus. The puppet inched forward a little and when Gale’s head dropped down into your shoulder you knew you’d been successful.

For a beat the slick sounds in the room came from only the puppet as he worked his oiled finger into Gale. You felt when he hit home, Gale’s cock twitching inside you. A short time later Gale began to move inside you finally. Almost immediately he was fucking you hard, no doubt slamming his hips back onto the puppet’s fingers.

You moaned at the thought, desperately wishing you could see. Gradually it became difficult to focus both on the puppet and your own arousal building as Gale fucked into you.

“Fuck,” You moaned, hand gripping his shoulder as your head fell back onto the bed, “I can’t keep-”

Whatever else you wanted to say was lost as Gale grabbed your leg to pull it up, thrusting into you deeper now.

“Let go,” Gale ground out through his teeth.

And you did. You came with a yell hips snapping up to meet Gale’s. He followed not long after, spilling into you with a groan, head buried into your shoulder.

As you came back to yourself, you moved the puppet away. Gale keened into your skin as the puppet pulled his fingers from him. You reached up and pulled the necklace from around your neck, it dragged through your sweat-slick skin.

“I would not be opposed to doing that again,” you said breathily.

Gale, the real one, groaned.

#Gale x reader #Gale x tav #Gale x Gale #???????#selfcest #kinktober 2023 #I will not be held accountable for this work #hahaha this is probably some of the weirdest shit I've written #sorry it's so late I've been sitting in the rain at soccer games all day #only to come how and write this offense to the gods

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oogaboogasphincter · 11 months ago

Text

a bowlful of joel-y

summary: he was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot / and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; / a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, / and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack / his eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! / his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! / he had a broad face and a little round belly / that shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly || you never would have guessed who you find stumbling around jackson dressed up as santa claus on christmas eve night, leaving presents for all the kids in town. you take on the role of santa's elf and help him deliver his toys - and land yourself on his nice list just in time for christmas morning.

word count/warnings: 4.8k+ words EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI! // reader has insomnia, a pinch of grumpy joel but he’s mostly jolly (at least by his standards), one mention of alcohol/drunkenness, christmas/holiday fluff, a conversation about loss and grief around the holidays (joel talks about sarah), description of panic attacks + healing❤️‍🩹, food and eating (milk+cookies ofc), unprotected piv sex (do as i say not as i write), jackson era!joel, friends to lovers teehee

a/n: merry christmas @lisadean! i'm so so sorry this is three days late, i got a head cold just as i was putting my finishing touches on this and i didn't want to post it without a final read-through :( i hope you enjoy your secret santa gift as much as i did writing it! 🤭🎁 i want to thank all my besties at @pedrostories for organizing this event, it's what introduced me to the blog and i'm so excited and honored to be participating in it both as a writer and moderator this year 💗 i wish all my readers a very happy holidays!! (pls let me know who made the beautiful gif above, i found it on pinterest w no credit ☹️)

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep.

No matter how hard you try, your shuttered eyes can’t keep.

You toss and turn with increasing agitation,

Thoughts of going downstairs gnawing with temptation.

It’d just be a little peek, you reason,

Of the freshly fallen snow of the season.

With a huff of exertion and a swaddle of flannel,

You get up and trot down the stairs, passing the candles burning on the mantle.

The decorated tree twinkles with light to emit holiday cheer all through the night.

You push aside the heavy drapes of your window and you see red;

Specifically, a fur-trimmed three piece set.

Astonished by what to your wandering eyes did appear, you lean in and begin to peer.

You must be being deceived by your eyes, you think to yourself. The apocalypse has brought to life many horrific figments that you wished were bound by imagination, but the magic of Christmas is something that seems too good to be true after such atrocity has ravaged the Earth. Maybe your vision is bleary from your biting insomnia caused by the latter, or you’ve endured enough that your mind is gifting you a glimpse back into some innocent happiness that you feared you lost long ago. To your surprise, the broad man outside doesn’t vanish with the blink of your eye; instead he trudges along in the snow with a harsh sense of reality, his back bent at a painful angle and his feet falling heavily with every step, bearing the brunt of his costumed weight plus the filled sack that is slung over his shoulder.

Whoever this is - whether it’s a do-gooder or some bloke that had a few too many spiked eggnogs at the Tipsy Bison - it looks like they would appreciate some help. You slip your boots on and head out, wrapping your arms around yourself to cinch your flannel pajamas closer to your frame to shield yourself from the icy midnight flurries. Santa’s back is to you and he doesn’t seem to acknowledge your approaching footsteps. His grunts of exertion are carried on the wind that swirls around you in ribbons: his pack looks even heavier up close than it did from your living room window. You make an effort to announce yourself by grinding your heels into the snow, making each step crunchier than the last.

For a fleeting moment, you relish the childlike wonder that overtakes you, that this could be the real Santa. His heart must be pounding in his ears because when you tap his velveteen shoulder softly, he jumps in shock. It’s immediately apparent that the erratic movement hurt his back further, as a large hand comes to support the small of his spine and he groans when he straightens his neck. The sack drops from his grasp into the snow below. You’re already apologizing as he turns haggardly on his heel, towards you, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you-”

Santa finally rounds on you and your breath catches in your throat. Framed by a faux white beard and the furry trim of his hat are big, gorgeous brown eyes that throw icicles at you with an annoyed stare. His thorough costume fails to work on you - you could recognize those beautiful, baby cow-esque eyes in an instant. A joyous cloud of condensation wafts into Santa’s face as you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, doubling over with tears in your eyes.

He steps forward and covers your mouth with a black leather gloved hand, “Don’t you know anythin’ about stealth?”

The saturation of Joel’s Texan accent increases whenever he’s irritated, tired or relaxed, you’ve noticed, or whenever his controlling grip on stoicism slips just slightly and he’s allowed to return to a more organic version of himself. To his grumbling annoyance, you’ve told him how cute you find it - especially when it’s followed by a blush of tamped-down flattery that crumbles his carefully constructed grimace.

He lets go of you when you’re able to stifle your giggles to a soft chuckling. You eye his outfit up and down, raising your eyebrow in approval. He tries his best not to mirror your bemused smirk. “ What are you doing, Joel Miller?” you ask incredulously.

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?” he grouches rhetorically. You patiently await his answer anyway with a grin that spreads to your eyes with every second that ticks by. He eventually secedes with a sigh, his broad shoulders deflating with exhaustion from more than just your affectionate pestering, “‘M… deliverin’ toys to the kids. Getting a present from Santa is a formative experience. No kid should have their magic robbed of ‘em.”

“Isn’t Santa just one big lie though?” you ask, genuinely. You remember the truth that your friends tried to peddle you while you were still a believer, asking you all kinds of questions as a test to your logic. How is he able to get all across the world in one night? If he’s so big, how is he able to fit down the chimney? Does Santa have to take bathroom breaks, and where?! Most of all, you remember the horror that washed over you when you confronted your parents with your newly-acquired facts, and to your fear, they confirmed the lie. It took you a while to have faith in anything they said after, to the point of absurdity - it took months for you to believe that taking medicine will actually make you feel better when you’re sick.

Joel stiffens. Some inexplicable reason makes you think that it’s not just because of his aching back and tired knees. His voice is tight, uncomfortable, “Yeah, I guess…”

He gradually warms back up, his words spliced with tired breaths, by explaining to you that, “Tommy told me that in years past, the adults would leave presents on Christmas morning, under that big tree they decorate in the town square,” he points behind him to the afar twinkling lights with his thumb, “just before the kids woke up. But since we found that fir tree lot about twenty miles out, everybody was able to get their own tree this year. I asked around if they think it’d be a good idea for someone… f’ me… to be Santa. So that all the kids could have the experience we had. Y’know… leave cookies out an’ all that.” He waves his hand noncommittally and looks off to the side like he thinks the whole idea is ludicrous, as if he doesn’t care. As if he isn’t the sweet, kindhearted man who introduced the very idea.

You fight hard to disguise the enamor that strikes your heart and threatens to leak into your gaze. So you turn to a reliable defense mechanism: teasing. “So… the costume is purely for your own enjoyment then?”

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of Joel’s chest. “I can’t have the kiddos wake up and see some old man in their house. You gotta keep up the illusion, girl.” He nudges you on the shoulder with his knuckles. When he leans in you can smell his breath, warm and sweet with faint notes of spice and cinnamon. His unprecedented playfulness always throws you for a loop and makes you squirm on your feet, a flustered smile warbling on your lips.

It strikes you in inappropriate moments like these that you have the privilege of being chummy with one of the most sought after men in Jackson. A man whose charms you’re not immune to, but you guess you’re better at hiding their effect than others are, as Joel tended to avoid those who openly expressed intimate interest. A man who you so desperately desire, but force yourself to hide your attraction for.

Joel sighs, bending to pick the sack handle up from the ground, “I’m bound to wake them up if I keep fuckin’ lumberin’ around like I am.” You can see how the heavy bag of toys weighs on his back and worsens his heavy-footedness. You can practically hear the alerting scuff of his boots against creaky floorboards, rousing sleeping kids and luring them to spoil their own surprise. “I damn near woke the first one up, ‘cause this fuckin’ sack got stuck between me and the door, an’-”

He cuts himself off, gaping with offended bewilderment watching you try to smother your laughter. The image of him wrestling with the bag, let alone in a full Santa costume, is simply hilarious. A deviousness glints the smile that tugs on half of his face, “Oh, so you think my struggling is funny?”

“No, it’s just…” you search for a more suitable word but guilt shines through your twisted smile and speaks for itself. He lets the silence fill the space between you two for an uncomfortable stretch, running out your fuse until you can’t hold back your giggling.

He puts his hand on his hip, fixing his gaze on you with lighthearted scorn, “You gon’ stand there and laugh at Santa ,” he jeers, scolding you for making fun of an innocent, jolly old man, “or are you gonna make yourself useful?”

For a moment you completely forget why you had come out here in the first place. Joel was legitimately having a difficult time and you had wanted to aid him in any way you could. However, his badgering demeanor has put an equally brattish spin on your helping hand from its chivalrous beginning. You defiantly square your shoulders.

“Actually, I will. I can be like an elf to your Santa. The elves do all of the hard work, anyways. Making the toys, wrapping them, packing the sleigh and caring for the reindeer. And Santa… eats cookies?”

Joel scoffs, pretending to not like the idea of some help, “Oh, yeah? You and what costume?” He jerks his chin at you, looks you up and down for your lack of costume. It’s hard not to pay any attention to the heat that rushes your cheeks thinking about him looking at you like that under different circumstances. He’s right though: you’ll need a costume to maintain the magical facade.

A Christmas miracle bestows itself to you in the front yard you’re standing next to: a snowman outfitted as an elf.

You go over and delicately pluck the pointed hat off of the top snowball so as not to disturb the icy artistry. You pull it down on your head, wiggle, and the movement gives the bell at the end of the point a jingle. “Ready when you are, Mr. Claus.”

Like on patrols and other tasks you’ve been paired with him on before, you and Joel make a fantastic team delivering holiday cheer in the night.

You’ll come to a house, quietly padding up the snowy front steps; Joel will sift through his bag for the correct present for the specific child; and hand it off to you to put under the tree inside. The parents in on the trick have left their doors unlocked and their kids have assembled platters of cookies, varying flavors from house to house, with a note of gratitude for their beloved Santa tucked underneath. You can only hope that the kids’ excited jitters for the following morning have worn their energy levels down enough that they’re soundly slumbering so you can pass through undetected. The bell on your hat is a hazardous giveaway to your presence, so you opt to leave it outside with Joel to ensure your drop-off is silent. There’s no chance any wandering eyes will catch you out of disguise, though, because, as quiet and quick as a mouse, you’re in with a gift and out with empty hands in a flash, ready for the next one.

A couple hours in and you’ve deposited gifts to three quarters of the kids in town. You’ll definitely finish before the Christmas morning sun even thinks about peering over the horizon. Despite the share of labor you’ve accounted for, Joel continues to have a difficult time trudging through the snow, so you both slow down to a pleasant, unhurried stroll to fulfill the remainder of your recipients.

“You okay?” you ask tenderly, smiling softly at him when he cranes his neck to meet your eyes. He nods, his voice tired and breathy, “Yeah, just… old .” He spits that last word out, with bitterness coating his tongue. The imperceptible shake of his head is impatient, agitated, that his body isn’t up to par with what it used to be capable of.

Jackson has softened him, there’s no denying that, but you don’t think it’s such a bad thing. You only arrived at the settlement a year ago, a year into Joel’s stay. He had immediately shown you friendliness, a desire to help you settle in, to care for you. It struck you as odd when you heard the stories from other townspeople of what he was like when he was first welcomed in; that he was the cold, standoffish brother of their warm leader, Tommy, that his permanent scowl radiated a sourness, bordering on ungrateful. The par-baked sociability that you were introduced to was apparently underdone; his face flickered with uncomfortability when any affection was pushed on him, whether it was a simple compliment or a brotherly nudge to his shoulder. Joel couldn’t hide himself from you, though. His desire to surrender was so strong, so yearnful, but he constantly restrained himself from the comfort, the love, with an understandable fear that it could all be taken away.

Accidentally, you forced him to face his fears. He enjoyed your company and soon sought out more and more opportunities to spend time with you until you were inseparable. You began to frighten him when he realized what you were to him, a friend , but it was too late; he couldn’t stay away from you, no matter how loud the loathsome voice in his head screamed for the safety that isolation guaranteed. His biggest source of anxiety now isn’t something reasonable, like clickers: it’s how far into the future he wants to go with you.

Back in the present moment, you shrug, “Well, I think you’re doing a good thing, Joel. Old or not.” The tip of his nose and cheeks are beet red from the frosty air and itchy costume, but his blush deepens to a magenta upon hearing your words. He diverts his eyes. It’s sweet, in a way, how he has trouble accepting praise even from one of his best friends. You dump more validation onto him, because he deserves it, “The community will really love you for this, you know. I know how much you like your solitude, but it’s nice to see you involved. It suits you.”

“I guess literally,” he gestures to his suit of red and white and you laugh together. Despite the tarnishes of age and stains of neglectful wear, the costume does fit him nicely. Just like the infamous poem, it complements his eyes that twinkle under the starlight and his merry dimple that deepens when he laughs. He even has the little round belly to complete the look, though you’re sure he has as much disdain for his softened shape as you have love for it.

The night hours wane in proportion with the fun you’re having. Joel’s silent for a while, and though quietness is never awkward between you two, you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about.

You only have a few presents left to deliver when Joel says, “Sarah loved Christmas.”

You slow down next to him to direct your undivided attention on him in this tender moment, but he waves his hand at you to keep moving along. Always some degree of averse to comfort, you work with him however he’ll let you. He faces ahead into the snow coming down, but that’s not what he’s looking at; his gaze is slightly unfocused, like he goes into a dimension that only he can see. You’ve seen that expression on him before and know that snapshots of memories are drifting by in his mind.

His voice is happy to match his smile, only wavering with emotion slightly as he shares with you, “She’d always be eager to start putting the decorations up right after Thanksgiving, always so giddy to go to school and do all the festive little projects they had ‘em doin’. She’d get so into it, she’d come home with glitter all in her hair,” he laughs softly and so do you. “The fridge would be completely covered with her paintings and crafts by the time Christmas came around…”

He stops in his tracks to take a sharp breath in, looking up to the stars with damp eyes. A touch to the permanent fixture on his wrist - his watch - grounds him and restores his smile, despite the painful tinge it now has. You simply observe him for a moment, give him the patience he needs. Then he continues a bit somberly, “I always got a real tree, I didn’t like none of that fake stuff. I would’ve gone and cut one down myself if they grew better than they did in Texas.”

A detachedness casts over his eyes. He breathes hauntedly, “Maybe a lot of things would be different if I hadn’t lived there.”

He sniffles and shakes his head to try and dispel his thoughts, getting irritated that they infiltrated him in the first place. You take a gingerly step forward and lay your fingers over his with impossible tenderness, stroking his quivering knuckles.

“Sounds like she would’ve loved being your little helper tonight.” A stroke of happiness glimmers across his face, colors him back from his ghostly hue.

“Yep, she would’ve been all over that.”

With all of the delicacy you can muster to cushion your shameless, vital honesty, “I bet she would be proud of what you’re doing… of you .”

You reach into his bag and take out the last remaining present, placing it into his hands so he can be the one to close out the magical evening and deliver the final gift. Joel nods with residual tears in his eyes, “I can only hope.”

“I know,” you reassure him.

The corners of his mouth, downturned in shame and grief, begin to perk up ever so slightly. It sends you over the moon. A staggering leap of growth for Joel are imperceptible steps to others, but you’re always by his side to assure him that there’s nothing wrong with his pace.

You’re the one to wait outside this time while he sneaks in. While he’s disappeared for a few moments, you think about how he used to react when Sarah was brought up - or more likely, when his thoughts brought her to him unprovoked. He’d have brutal panic attacks, where his heart would pound violently in between seizures of oxygen, courtesy of his crippling lungs. He’d be rendered debilitated for days afterward, trying to collect his shattered remains and haphazardly piece himself back together.

But now, as he slowly closes the door behind him and turns to join you, his commendable progress frays your heartstrings. Though his eyes are still hurt and his heart still gives him problems, he’s able to talk about his daughter with unbridled joy . Her memory is no longer an abyss of torturous guilt; it has blossomed to remind him of all the happy days she did have, of what a beautiful soul she was and can continue to be in his heart. He’s realizing that instead of solely mourning her wrongful death, he can carry on her life by spreading the joy she instilled in him all those years ago. You view it as one of the highest honors to hear about her and to be friends with the wonderful man who raised her to be the kind girl she was. Seeing Joel’s misery lessened by any number makes you so happy you could cry.

Joel comes up to you and concern crosses his face, “What’s wrong?”, upon seeing the gleam to your eyes, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Nothin’,” you say with a shrug and a proud smile, subconsciously parroting his accent.

“Congratulations on another successful year, Santa,” you hold up your hand for a silly high five. Joel obliges with a resounding chuckle. He intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand long after the celebration. “Couldn’t have done it without your help,” he mumbles sheepishly, “Thank you.”

Since you were the one picking up Santa’s slack for the most part tonight, you were also the one to take bites of cookies and sips of milk to leave as evidence of your visit. It only dawns on you now that Joel hasn’t had any treats the whole night. What a holiday abomination!

“I think Santa is entitled to his fair share of payment,” you playfully nudge at Joel’s belly and he swats your hand away with a grunt. “I made some cookies of my own, and I have some milk to pair if I’m remembering your tastes correctly.” He shakes his head, rolls his eyes. “Wanna come back to mine for some?”

Joel squeezes your hand in his, “Sure.”

The morning sun still has a few hours left to sleep by the time you and Joel cross your threshold. The house you were gifted in the center of town is small, but it’s a haven nonetheless. When you first moved in, Joel was assigned to check all the inner workings and help furnish, but most importantly he helped you return to yourself: what colors you liked and didn’t like, which way you preferred your living room to be arranged, where you wanted your mugs stored. It was incidental, trivial things, but their impact was seriously underestimated. He helped make the little blank-slate house yours.

He enjoys being in it as much as you do because he’s constantly surrounded by you and the evidence of your habits and patterns. The rings of coffee staining your side table, next to the bookmarked novel on the arm of your couch. The shoes dropped unceremoniously by your front door. The dish towel powdered with the flour of cookies you made earlier, their mouthwatering scent lingering in the air with the dry, residual warmth from your oven. He doesn’t know if he wants to consume you or be consumed by you, but either way he knows one thing: he’s bewitched.

In the kitchen, he leans against the counter as you pour him a glass of milk and plate some cookies. The long night’s energy expenditure has worked up quite an appetite in him, so he doesn’t waste any more time and takes a bite.

“You have to dip it in the milk and let it get soft! They’re best that way,” you offer, but he just waves you off with affectionate annoyance.

From his sloppy eating, a piece of chocolate has smeared itself on his upper lip and into the hairs of his mustache. It makes you smile. Without thinking, you lick the pad of your thumb and bring it to his face to clean it off.

Joel’s lips part, as if with practiced ease, so you can really get in there. It’s so natural , so domestic between the two of you; it’s startling. His eyes are on you and you can feel them, watching you with brazen intensity as you prod the plushness of his lip, but you keep your own gaze focused on your work.

You flicker a fatal glance into his. Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss that’s a strange mix of gentle and intoxicating. Just as it registers in your brain what is happening, he’s breaking away and it makes you want to cry.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first, goddamn fool …” he grumbles to himself. He goes to remove himself from you further, but you pull him right back by the chest of his t-shirt that’s damp with sweat.

“You should’ve.” You press your lips to his with ravenous fervor.

You pull him to the living room, to the chair that he picked out for the space when you first moved in. The soft suede reminded him of you, he had said, and you didn’t realize what his true meaning was until now. His fingertips skim over your exposed skin, addicted, yet tentative in their touch of such preciousness.

You swiftly rid him of the rest of his costume down to his underclothes and he soon follows to undress you until you’re left in your base layers. You’re practically shaking with need, wishing you could take your time with him but you’ve been pining after him all night (really, ever since the moment you laid eyes on him over a year ago.) That goofy costume couldn’t hide his delicious figure and he makes you delirious now that he’s exposed; his broad, inviting chest; his sexy, burly arms; his cute little ass.

He shares your desire’s impatience. He falls onto the chair, pressing against the back. You climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into you for another desperate kiss.

One of his hands balances you on your hip and the other fumbles with his belt buckle frustratingly. He groans impatiently into your mouth, but your aid is being dispersed elsewhere; your fingers are tethered to his hair, brushing it and grabbing it and pulling it.

Finally he solves the metallic riddle and you both sigh in relief when his stiff length is released, slapping against your thigh. You reach down and stroke him from base to tip a couple times, making his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. This is going to be quick, you both know it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be enjoyable.

You’re just as near to bursting as Joel when you sink down onto him, inch by glorious inch. He digs his heels into the floor in preparation to fuck up into you, but you beat him to it and begin to ride. He groans loudly, his arms constricting around your waist and burying his face into your neck. He’s holding you so tight that you can barely move; it makes your thighs burn deliciously with the amount of effort you have to put in to keep up your pace. You work up a sweat to rival his as a fresh sheen breaks out on his brow.

Combined with the heated passion, there’s an enamored twinkle in his eyes, an adoration. One that screams that four-letter L word, the one that his brain wants to profess to you from rooftops but that his heart can’t work up the strength to say it and make it real.

The holidays are run on magic, anyways - you’re content to give him all the time he needs.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly into his ear, wanting his body if you can’t have his heart just yet. That does him in; his hips stutter beneath you and his warmth fills you up, radiating up from your core until it tickles the underside of your pounding heart. Your own release is brought on by his sly fingers against your clit and it seizes your movements, rippling in tantalizing waves from head to toe, until you’re reduced to a puddle in his arms and slump against his chest.

Hazy with exhaustion and a potent shot of dopamine, you barely register him tucking a blanket around you before you succumb to some much-needed sleep.

The Christmas morning sun breaks over the horizon a few hours later. Amidst your throes of passion in the darkness of night, you hadn’t realized your front window’s curtains were strewn wide open. You and Joel both startle awake when a particularly harsh sunbeam glints off of a frosty white snow bank, shooting directly into your unprepared pupils.

You bury your face into his chest, groaning with embarrassment, “I really hope nobody starts singing that they saw an elf kissing Santa Claus.”

Your newly minted lover chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you ever closer, “Eh, all the kids were asleep. And if any adults saw…,” he shrugs, “Fuck ‘em.”

Now, your blanketed bodies remain safely hidden from the happy kids running about and cheering in the streets with their new toys. Joel watches on with you, smiling despite the sleep deprivation that prohibits you from even thinking about moving an inch. And with Joel beneath you, surrounding you, why would you?

“You know, I’ve been thinking for a while now…” he continues, running a finger delicately down your cheek, “I’ve been wanting to promote my head elf, but she’s already at the top of my list.”

You poke him in the chest playfully, “Hey, I’m a seasonal worker. Last night was a one-time deal. Well, what happened before we got home was a one-time deal,” you specify.

Your clarification brightens his smile. “How d’ya think… Mrs. Claus sounds?”

Your heart leaps. “Sounds like just what I’ve been wishing for.”

You settle in to watch the rest of the morning unfold, with the joyous kids playing, their contented parents observing, and the snow swirling in the air in dreamy trails.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

summary excerpt from “‘a visit from st. nicholas” by clement clarke moore

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emmg · 1 month ago

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been binge reading all of your stuff lately i love your fics and takes on raphael so much 😩<3 i don’t know if you’re still doing this but if you are 2 or 20. your last one has me insane about pathetic mess raphael now. and idk it’s hot to think about him all incoherent when he’s usually so eloquent and intentional with his words. maybe tav put a cock ring on him or something so he can’t nut right away idk

(anyways pls ignore if ur not still doing these. good luck with all the grading 😤)

Ask and you shall receive.

No cock ring... but she has a hand and fingers for a reason, eh?

Raphael is beautiful. It’s not something she likes to admit, not out loud anyway, lest it inflates his overgorged ego any larger. It still makes her nervous, still makes her feel inadequate, when he stands, all regal in golden brocade and dark silks, half-curls brushed behind his ears, styled with pommade, nails manicured, skin perfumed. It makes her hide her hands as they are rougher than his, makes her rebraid her own hair, readjust her clothes. Anything to smother that gnawing feeling of being a walking flaw.

And as much as all that polished perfection technically makes her wet, the real Raphael, the one behind the beauty, is... disappointing. Tragically so. He’s a lazy, self-absorbed piece of shit who genuinely believes that just being present is enough. That simply existing, just happening to be inside of her, should send her into a euphoric spiral, as if the mere fact of his cock being there should inspire religious-level orgasms and revelations.

While he lies there, moaning as if he’s done her the greatest favor, she’s left wondering how someone so physically flawless can be such a cosmic letdown. The reality of Raphael is far from the fantasy, and the gap between what he looks like and what he actually is makes her want to scream.

Sighing, she shifts her hips, rising up until his cock is barely inside her, the head just teasing the edge of slipping out. She pauses there for a second, savoring the control, before slowly sinking back down, feeling every inch drag against her. She’s doing all the work, as usual, trying to find some way to make this feel good—at least for her, because clearly, Raphael’s already lost in his own world of self-indulgence. She tries to focus, to make the slow grind worth something, hoping maybe the deliberate pace will pull some real pleasure out of this mess.

And, like clockwork, he moans. That same loud, ridiculous moan that used to send a thrill down her spine, back when she thought it was about her. Back when she thought she had some power over him, a devil, no less—a creature that should be above this kind of mortal weakness. The idea that she could reduce him to a writhing, moaning mess had been enough to make her foam at the mouth.

Hell, she could probably brush his cock with a broomstick, tie a rotten piece of fruit to the end of it, and he’d still be making that same damn sound. He’s just as much of a joke as she’s started to feel in these moments, putting in all the effort while he lies there like some kind of prized statue, expecting worship for doing absolutely nothing.

She lies down on him, rocking her hips in slow, deliberate motions, and finally, finally, the position does something for her. With each shift, her clit drags against his pubic bone, the roughness of his coarse hair adding a friction she can actually work with. She lets out a quiet sigh, her first real sign of satisfaction in what feels like ages.

"Little mouse," he groans, his voice thick with that self-satisfied purr he loves so much, as if he's the one driving this show. His hand drags down his own face, covering his eyes.

But then his hips jerk up, thrusting into her in these erratic, stuttering movements that finally break his lazy spell. She takes the opportunity, leaning back slightly to capitalize on his sudden engagement. Grabbing his free hand, she guides it to her breast, practically forcing him to participate. His large palm easily covers her breast, and his thumb flicks idly over her nipple. Not bad, but not enough. She pulls his hand away, licking his fingertips to add some slickness, then guides it back. Now it glides smoother, less of that annoying drag, and she lets herself enjoy it, just a little.

Raphael groans again, this time louder, and without warning, he slams his hips up so hard she yelps. The suddenness of it, the sheer force, sends a sharp pain through her lower belly as the blunt head of his cock crashes against her cervix. It’s too much, too fast, and the shock of it makes her wince. Before she can recover, his hands leave her breast and his face, coming to grip her hips tightly as he holds her in place, forcing her still as he pounds into her with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

"Just... like... that," he groans through gritted teeth, thrusting up into her again. "Stay still, ah-" Another brutal thrust, and this time she feels the cramp tighten in her belly, her body rebelling against his rough pace. But of course, Raphael’s too lost in his own world to notice, driving into her like he’s got something to prove.

Suddenly, he surges up, flipping her onto her stomach before she even has time to process. His hands grab her hips, roughly yanking them up, and before she can even adjust, he's inside her again, filling her up in one swift thrust. His cock stretches her, the angle hitting just right, but he starts with that infuriatingly slow, uneven pace, that does nothing for her.

He murmurs something in Infernal—one of his favorite curses. She recognizes the sound even if she’s long stopped trying to understand the exact words. He’s whispered it enough times before. "Such a little, little mouse," he mutters. "So small."

She tries to push back, to take control, but his weight keeps her pinned firmly to the bed. His legs are spread wide, trapping hers between them, and there’s no escape. His cock moves in and out of her, bleeding warmth, the obscene sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh echoing around them. Every few thrusts, he slams into her harder, making her gasp as the head of his cock hits that spot deep inside her. The wet squelch every time he pulls out just to drag himself back in makes her bite her lip, even though the pace is maddeningly slow.

His hips grind into her, harder now, the pace picking up just enough to send a spike of heat through her core. He groans, deep and low, and his tongue follows, curling into her ear like he’s trying to crawl inside her head. "Who doesn’t know just how small she is," he growls, voice hoarser now as he snaps his hips into her harder, making her body jerk with each thrust. "And, ah, happily comes to the slaughter..."

Something shifts. His grip on her hips tightens, bruising, and his pounding grow faster, more careless. His cock slams into her deeper, harder, over and over, and she feels her body responding, her walls clenching around him as the pressure builds inside her. She gasps, her breath coming in ragged pants as the pleasure starts to coil tighter and tighter. His palm comes down hard on her ass with a loud smack, and she hisses through the sting, but it only sends another jolt straight to her cunt.

He fucks her faster, and the momentum of it shoves her up the bed, her clit dragging against the rough sheets with each thrust. The friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through her, and she moans loudly, unable to hold it back.

But just as she’s on the edge of something real, he falters.

Raphael’s stamina runs out, predictably, and he collapses over her, his cock still buried inside her but his weight smothering her. He’s panting against her ear, still muttering those Infernal curses mixed with incoherent rambling, half curses, half nonsense. It’s like being fucked by a lazy dog, one who can’t stop running his mouth even when he’s barely putting in the effort. His hips stutter, the movements sloppy now.

"You dreamed of this late at night," he breathes into her hair, his voice low and heated, "in your little camp..." His lips brush behind her ear, "by the fire..." and then they ghost down the back of her neck. "Wanted to be torn apart..." His words vibrate against her skin. She feels his cock twitch inside her, his hips stalling as he tries to keep himself under control.

Except no one’s getting torn apart. Not her, not even close. He’s barely moving, the promise of something wild and destructive reduced to this sluggish, half-hearted performance. She can feel him trembling with restraint, but instead of fucking her, he’s just… there. Stuck.

When he finally lifts his weight off her, giving her some breathing room, she doesn’t hesitate. With a quick twist, she slips out from under him, pushing him back, taking matters into her own hands.

Raphael sits back on his knees, his cock still in his hand, his face twisted into a frown of frustration. But she’s not about to let him pout. She leans in close, her lips brushing his, licking the taste of him as she breathes in the heat of his exasperation. She grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away, replacing it with her own as she starts stroking him.

"Yes," she whispers into his mouth, her tongue sliding over his, muffling her words with the wet heat of their not-quite-kiss. "I want you to ruin me."

His response is immediate, a loud, obscene moan that rumbles through him as his cock twitches hard in her hand. She stops, though, just squeezing the base and watching as it grows even redder, the veins bulging with need. She can feel him throbbing against her grip, desperate for more, but she holds back, enjoying the way his breath hitches, the way he trembles.

"I want you to rip me apart," she murmurs, her hand slowly beginning to move again, a slow, languid stroke slick with the wetness from her own body and the sweat dripping down his chest and pooling between his thighs. Her palm is sticky, sliding over him with ease as he groans, his head falling back in pure pleasure. There's a tiny speck of drool at the corner of his mouth that she longs to lick away.

"Raphael..." she sing-songs, and the sound of his name on her lips makes him shudder, another low moan spilling out of him as his body leans heavily into hers, eyes shut tight. But again, she stops. Her grip tightens around the base of his cock, squeezing hard until her wrist aches, until she can feel the frantic rush of blood surging through him, only to be blocked by the pressure of her hand.

She watches him, feels him tremble, his cock throbbing, leaking, desperate for release.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him reach for her.

She pushes him back before he can even finish grabbing a fistful of her hair. She knows exactly where that leads—knows the second he gets a grip on her, he’ll have her on her back, legs spread wide, fucking into her with that too-fast, too-rough, too-careless rhythm that does nothing for her. His cock slipping out between thrusts, stabbing at her as he tries to re-enter, curses flying from his lips as he fumbles for his own release. It's graceless, pathetic, the way he chases his orgasm, coming too soon, spilling hot spurts half inside her, half across her thighs, his sweat dripping down onto her face from above.

She drops between his legs instead. Her hand wraps around his cock, pumping slowly. Up and down, keeping it measured, controlled. When he gets too impatient—when his hips start bucking—she stops, gripping him tightly at the base, forcing him to wait.

He hisses above her, his cock swelling even more, flushed dark and leaking. The tip beads with precum, and she watches with a satisfied smirk as his whole body tenses. She loosens her grip for just a moment, letting him feel some relief, before squeezing him hard again.

Finally, she leans down, her breath hot against his skin. She looks up at him, feigning innocence, and murmurs, "Let me… let me make you come like this. You’re so large... you’re going to tear me apart otherwise." It’s pure, utter bullshit, but the sound that rips from his throat in response makes it worth every word. Loud, shameless, pathetic. She almost laughs—almost—but she knows better. Raphael would probably mop the floor with her if she dared.

His eyes stay fixed on her as she slowly, teasingly, licks the moisture from the tip of his cock. She hums against it, the vibration making his whole body shudder, before he throws an arm over his eyes, groaning deeply.

She sucks on the head, her hands working him in tandem, focusing all her attention there, like she’s trying to melt a large piece of candy in her mouth. She drags it out as long as she can, until his frustration is palpable. His hand moves to the back of her head, fingers gripping her hair, and she finally relents, swallowing him whole. His cock fills her mouth, stretching her jaw, and she takes as much of him as she can, her hand slipping lower to cup his balls, making up for what she can’t fit.

He bucks into her and hits the back of her throat, making her choke just a little. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, but she holds steady, her breathing calming down as she gets used to the stretch. Her tongue swirls around him, tracing every vein, and she presses it firmly against the weeping slit at the top, savoring the taste of him. Her head bobs, cheeks hollowing with each movement, creating a slick, tight suction that makes him groan even louder.

She pulls back just enough to spit, coating his length in saliva, though she tries to keep it as quiet as possible. Despite the heat of the moment, she’s never been a fan of the sound, but the wetness helps her glide more easily as she plunges back down on him, taking him deeper.

Again, he’s watching her, his eyes wide and hungry, and she smiles softly. Raphael never truly wants a whore—at least not fully. No, he wants something more layered. He wants a doe-eyed innocent who worships him but pretends to run. Someone who murmurs no, no, please sir while her legs spread wide. He wants the chase, the thrill of corruption, the power to pin down someone who will moan for him, maybe even shed a few tears.

She’s been the prey, the helpless maiden caught in his web whenever he asked. The one he pressed into the sheets, fulfilling his fantasy of the devil seducing the pious, tricking her into forsaking her vows of chastity. She’s prayed at his feet, his cock the twisted holy sacrament she was made to choke on to seek some mockery of absolution. Absolution that came in the form of too-hot cum spilling down her throat, or, if he felt particularly devout, across her face. And he’d rub it in, smearing it into her skin like the waters of Lathander, as if he could baptize her in filth.

And then he’d offer her more—grant her the opportunity to climb onto his lap, to show him the dripping, sopping mess between her thighs, proof of his corruption. His fingers would slide inside her, tasting the fruits of his labor, telling her to ride him, and she would. She always did. His tail, for he always wore his true face those times, would snake its way between her cheeks, slick with her own wetness and sweat, teasing her ass, rubbing her raw until she was a trembling, gasping wreck.

Of course, it would be even better if Raphael could actually last.

Oh, well.

So she smiles, that soft, gentle smile he loves. Always soft, always deceptively innocent. She shows him her tongue, presses it flat against the underside of his cock, ready to take him in, to finish him off properly. But before she can even move, before she has the chance to wrap her lips around him, he comes suddenly, without warning. Hot, thick ropes of seed splatter across her chin and throat, dripping down her skin. She pulls back, hissing under her breath as it to burn, the heat of it searing her skin in that familiar, uncomfortable way.

He’s already spent, lying there, content, his breath coming in ragged, wheezing bursts between his teeth. His cock softens against his thigh, still glistening with cum and sweat, tangled in the coarse hair at his base. His chest rises and falls in that lazy rhythm of someone who’s already checked out, his focus slipping back into that self-satisfied haze.

She hums, pushing herself up to leave, her mind wandering to the glorious bath in the corner of the room. The thought of sinking into warm, clean water is the only thing that seems appealing now, after the mess he’s left her in. Maybe she could come on her fingers, since he's obviously not seeing this through.

But before she can take a step, Raphael’s hand shoots out, catching her wrist in a firm grip. He tugs her back toward him, eyes half-lidded. She tilts her head, curious, waiting, but frowns when the moment stretches out for too long.

"Clean up the mess you made, little mouse," he whispers, urging her closer. She sighs, her resistance brief and token, before lowering her head, licking her lips as she presses her mouth to his stomach, tasting his sweat, as, above her, he runs his fingers through her hair.

#raphael is bad at sex but we still all want him #bg3 kinktober #raphael x tav #raphael smut #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #my writing i guess #nsft #shortstories

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miuszn · 2 years ago

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HII!! i love your writing sm, so i wanted to send in a request. I KNOW THIS IS SO CLICHÉ AND OVERDONE 😭😭 BUT could you possibly write a seven minutes in heaven scenario with ellie or abby. maybe reader n ellie/abby don’t really like each other, or they have tension ?? idk

seven minutes

SETTING : college / modern au

WC : 3120

WARNINGS : not beta read , fingering , cunnilingus ( r!recieving both ) , kinda vanilla again ( sorry ) , top!ellie , one-sided rivalry , intentional lowercase , this might kinda seem like dubcon but it’s not reader is just shy , english isn’t my first language and i’m not perfectly fluent so there might be mistakes ( lmk if there’s any )

A / N : hii everyone !! aaa im so glad i finally finished this 😭😭 i love these corny cliche scenarios soooo much but only when it’s w women otherwise it’s just so bleh . women do everything better so true !! anywhooo i hope u guys enjoy this and tysm for requesting this bc i wanted to write something like this but didnt think anyone would want it .. ALSO IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ABBY WHEN I STARTED WRITING BC I SAVED THE ASK TO DRAFTS TO KEEP IT THERE N ONLY NOTICED NOW JFJDHDKDJ pls forgive me .. ill include ellie & abby tension over reader in the future i promise 🙏🙏

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dina, i’m not going.”

you had no idea how many times you told her this, but you weren’t planning on changing your mind. you had gone to a few parties here and there, sure, but it wasn’t really your thing. you enjoyed going to them every once in a while to go out and loosen up, get your mind off of stress, but that was it. you weren't particularly crazy about it at the same level of other people your age, not even as much as dina, who’s considered a more casual partygoer. you had given her some excuse about having a project to work on, but the truth was, that wasn’t your concern. in fact, you didn’t have a project to work on at all. you made it all up. you even considered going to that party when dina first told you about it, but a few days later you overheard some classmates talk about how ellie williams out of all people would be going.

ellie ellie ellie. she drive you nuts for all the wrong reasons. you could tell she disliked you from the start, which that in itself made you dislike her as well. you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to anger her. but your dislike for her only grew when you realized just how irresponsible she was. she slept in, often came hungover to class, and yet she still scored the highest. even higher than you. and that really set you off. you had been an overachiever all your life, and all of a sudden some loser who doesn’t even put any effort into anything is beating you at everything. but most of all, it intrigued you a little more than it did anger you. you wished you could take a peek into her brain and see how the hell she managed to do it. your first thought was she copied answers off of people. seemed the most logical, right? but she was scoring the highest. how the hell could she score higher than anyone that she could even copy off of? hell, she even answered open-ended questions more detailed and well-written than you did. it didn’t make any sense. that’s the worst part of it all. you couldn’t even come up with a logical explanation as to how she could even do this.

little did you know, though, she was completely aware of your one-sided rivalry, and she found it adorable. she never tried to compete with you, but she thought it was hilarious watching you try so hard to compete with her. the first time she saw you, she was immediately drawn to you. your spotless image, valedictorian from your high school who had a perfect gpa and perfect test scores. you were perfect. but she wanted to see you crack. she wanted to see what was under all those layers (both figuratively and literally) and see what you were truly like. she knew you seeing her put in no effort into school yet still doing better than you would anger you. that’s exactly what she wanted. sure, she was in a way getting you to hate her, but it was a risk she was willing to take just to get a reaction out of you. and little did you know, you were attracted to her. and she was aware.

“come on, i don’t know why you’re acting like this all of a sudden,” dina whined. “you said you’d come along when i first told you about it.”

“i said i’d think about it,” you corrected her. “i’m just not really feeling it. besides i already told you i have this project to work on.”

“what’s it for?”

“it’s, uh..” you tried to come up with a lie on the spot. “it’s for calculus.”

“no way, we have a project in that class?” she asked, surprised, “i can’t believe i had no idea! when is it due?”

shit. you forgot you had that class with her.

“it’s for tomorrow, i think..” you kept going along with your lie.

“bullshit,” she laughed, “if we really had a project due tomorrow you would already have it done. and there’s no way i’d miss a project for that class!”

“fine,” you sighed, “i just needed an excuse so you’d leave me alone. but i really don’t want to go.”

“nope, because you lied you have to come.”

“why?!”

“because it’s fair!” she said, “besides, you definitely owe me one for going to that stupid concert with you the other day.”

you rolled your eyes. “you said you enjoyed it.”

“yeah, well, i lied. do you seriously think i’d ever like-“

“alright that’s enough!” you sighed. “i’ll go. but we are leaving early that night”

“deal.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dinaaa, hurry up!” you knocked on the bathroom door. the main downside of sharing an apartment with your best friend was the fact she took forever to get out of the bathroom. you both decided it would be a good idea, you found a nice complex near campus and the rent was almost the same as a dorm room, so it was a no-brainer.

“five minutes!” she yelled back. five minutes my ass, you thought. at least this time you thought ahead of time and got in there before her. your outfit wasn’t anything fancy, of course, but you still wanted to dress cute. you had a black tube mini-skirt and white baby tee, just something you threw on that was comfortable but still looked alright. you had struggled a little to decide what to wear, you didn’t want to stand out too much but you still for some reason wanted to impress ellie deep down. you just brushed this off as an unwanted thought and ignored it, but it continued to linger in your mind. why do i even care what she thinks of me? you asked yourself.

about fifteen minutes later, dina finally came out of the bathroom.

“you said five”

“well, i still look good, don’t i?” she jokingly posed.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. let’s get going.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

if there was one thing you could absolutely not stand about house parties, it was the stench inside the house. god was it awful. half of these people were frat boys who didn’t know what deodorant was and had been sweaty all night, and all this mixed with the smell of alcohol just made matters worse. most of the people were inside the house enjoying the music and the drinks, but you simply hung outside with dina chatting while drinking out of those cliche red cups you see in movies. you really couldn’t wait to get out of there, but yet again, that little voice in the back of your head made you think about ellie. you thought it was good you didn’t see her, but at the same time, you wanted to see her. it was a strange feeling. you couldn’t tell if it was curiosity, intrusive thoughts, or attraction. whatever it was, there was no way it was the last option.

about an hour passed and you were starting to get bored. just as you were about to suggest to dina you leave, a group of 8-ish people came out of the house to the backyard. among them was ellie. the moment you saw her you realized just how attractive she is. you had never looked at her enough to tell, but now it was evident. now you were even more confused. but you simply told yourself you can think she’s attractive and not be attracted to her.

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize one of the guys was talking to you and dina had to hit you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“is this chick high or something?” one of them laughed.

“uh- no- sorry. just kinda pensive.” you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact with ellie, and luckily this time you managed to do so. it just would’ve made things way more awkward.

“anyway-“ one of the guys started. “we were thinking since none of us wanna be with those people inside the house, we could just do something else to have fun.”

“what’re you thinking?” dina asked.

“7 minutes in heaven.”

you and dina were both a little stunned. you would’ve thought about some other thing, but you decided to go along with it anyway. not like anything could go wrong.

you all sat in a circle, and one of them began explaining the rules.

“simple, you spin the bottle, whoever it lands on, you have to go in the shed for 7 minutes and do any romantic or sexual act. kissing, making out, having sex even. but there has to be some proof you did something. if you didn’t do anything in the 7 minutes or refused to do anything in the first place, you take a shot. everyone got it?”

everyone nodded, and the game began. most people took a shot, about half an hour of the game went by and not a single person had gone into the shed. you landed on a few of the guys and vice versa, and while most of them were totally down to go in the shed with you, you most definitely weren’t. you weren’t sure if it was just you imagining things, but you felt you saw the slightest bit of anger and jealousy in ellie’s eyes anytime the bottle landed on you and the guys wanted to go in the shed with you, and she was relieved any time you took a shot. you found it strange. why did it matter to her? but you were sure you were just making things up.

you were starting to feel more and more tipsy from the drinks, standing on the line between drunk and sober. you were self-aware enough to tell yourself to not have any more drinks. one more spin, you told yourself. that was it. you spun the bottle, and surprise surprise, it landed on none other than ellie herself.

there was an awkward silence for a moment. you didn’t know what to do. it would be super awkward if either one of you accepted and the other declined.

one of the guys broke the silence first. “sooo.. are y’all going in the shed or not?”

“depends on her.” ellie smirked.

your face got a little hot. a soft red tinted your cheeks and you nodded, accepting in the heat of the moment. you were sure it was just your drunk mind making the decisions for you, but it wasn’t. you were very aware of the decision you had just made. but it hadn’t hit you yet. not until she walked behind you into the shed and shut the door.

“didn’t think you were into me like that,” ellie broke the silence. “i always thought you hated me or somethin’.”

you didn’t really know what to say. you mumbled some nonsense trying to come up with something fast.

“do i make you nervous?” she asked.

“sort of..” you were able to respond.

“ohh, i see,” she interrupted. “you just pretended to hate me for whatever reason.”

“no!” you protested. “i wasn’t pretending- i mean, i don’t hate you, it’s just. ugh.”

you gave up on trying to explain yourself when you realized just how childish and irrational you acted. seriously, disliking someone for outperforming you at your big age? the more you thought about it, the more embarassed you were about it. was it the alcohol doing this to you? it was all so confusing.

“why’d you accept to come into the shed with me?”

you didn’t respond, just shrugged. you didn’t know. you must’ve woken up on the wrong side of bed or something. you were acting very irrational today, and it’s like someone else was making decisions for you.

you didn’t realize she had pretty much backed you against one of the walls of the small room until now. this feeling, that you couldn’t quite put a name on, was so sudden and so foreign. did you have feelings for her that you had just been pushing away all this time because of jealousy? if not, what the hell was it?

her hand wandered up your skirt, stopping right before reaching your cunt. she looked up at you as if asking for approval, and although you hesitated for a moment, it’s as if your body made the decision for you and you nodded.

she didn’t waste any time and dipped her hand in your panties, rubbing circles on your clit to tease you, causing you to whimper and moan softly.

“so classy and put together whenever i see you, but look at you right now,” she teased. “no one would ever think you’d be whimpering for me like this.”

you blushed and looked away in embarrassment. you didn’t get why that made you blush. so many thoughts were racing through your head, so many conflicting feelings. yet you didn’t try to pull away, even though you had many opportunities to do so.

her touches weren’t enough and you were starting to get desperate, causing you to lightly buck your hips back and forth trying to feel her more.

“oh? someone’s desperate,” she chuckled. “alright, princess, i’ll give you what you want.”

you weren’t sure what she meant by that or what she was planning to do, but, for whatever reason, you trusted her.

she pulled her hand out of your panties, making you whine at the lack of contact.

“don’t worry, baby,” she said, getting down on her knees, her face at the level of your cunt. “i’ll take care of you real good.”

she started pulling down your panties and threw them somewhere on the floor, motioning you to put your leg on her shoulder. you seemed hesitant, thinking your leg might be kind of heavy for her to support on her shoulder. but she assured you it’d be fine.

her mouth was now millimeters away from your cunt. “if it’s too much, tell me to stop.” she looked up at you. you nodded, a little scared, but you still wanted to trust her.

she gave a long lick along your slit to tease you, making you gasp from the contact. she started mercilessly licking and sucking on your clit a little more intensely than you’d like her to, but at the same time, you liked it. you couldn’t tell her to stop. whimpers and moans came out of your mouth, being all that could be heard inside the small room aside from the wet sounds of ellie’s mouth on your cunt. you struggled more and more each second to stand as your legs wobbled and trembled from the sensation. she slid a finger inside you with ease, thrusting it in and out of you at a rapid pace which made you struggle to contain your moans that you started trying so hard to conceal since they only kept getting louder and louder. you had only been in that shed for about 6 minutes, but you were already about to reach your climax. and ellie was aware of this. she sped up her pace a little more, slurping up your juices like it was nothing.

after a moment, she lifted your leg from her shoulder and held your arm while getting up to make sure you could stabilize your footing.

“you okay?”

you nodded, and suddenly you realized what had just happened. ellie williams ate you out. you let the girl you swore you hated so bad eat you out, and you enjoyed it. you didn’t know what was the most shocking; that she didn’t hate you too, that she was even attracted to you, that she wanted to eat you out, or that you just let her. you weren’t sure wether you regretted it or not.

“what, you’re surprised you liked it or something?” she laughed, as if she had read your mind.

you felt your cheeks tint a slight red, and looked away in embarrassment, confirming she was right.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, turning to leave, but she grabbed your arm and stopped you.

“listen,” she looked into your eyes. “if you want, we can just forget about this. we don’t have to tell ‘em what happened.”

you nodded, and you both awkwardly walked back to the circle.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

when you sat back down, dina looked you up and down and giggled.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you whispered to her.

“you think we’re dumb?” she giggled. “there’s a reason neither of you had to take a shot. like for example, your messy hair.”

you realized it was obvious, and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right there. you had a lot of different feelings about what just happened, but the main one was embarrassment. it would’ve been one thing if it happened and you didn’t like it, but the fact that you enjoyed it was humiliating. not only did you like it, but you wanted more. you started to take a liking to her, and you hated that.

after about 15 more minutes, everyone got tired of the game and decided to end it. you and dina decided to just go home now, although it was a little early, since you hadn’t been enjoying yourselves much.

as you waited on the front lawn of the house for your uber to get there, you heard a voice calling from behind.

“dina!”

you both turned around and surprise surprise, it was ellie.

“what is it?”

“can i talk to your friend real quick?”

you and dina looked at each other, and you sighed and decided to talk to her. you thought it’ll be quick, and if anything, when the uber arrives you can use it as your get out of jail free card.

you walked over to her and she seemed to be abnormally tense.

“i just, uh. i wanted to ask if you were fine after all that.” she mumbled with a genuine expression on her face.

“ellie, it’s fine.” you sighed.

“are you sure?”

“yes, don’t worry about it. seriously.”

you thought that was it, but she clearly had something else on her mind.

“ellie, spit it out.”

“well, also,” she looked up at you, “i wanted to ask you for your number. i don’t think i’ve ever actually talked to you aside from today.”

you chuckled in disbelief at the audacity this girl had. clearly she knew you’d say no, and just wanted to rile you up. but you wouldn't give her that satisfaction, so you dropped the expression immediately and instead had a calm look on your face.

“maybe some other time, babe”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

A / N : u guys know i don’t rlly like adding notes at the end of my fics but i felt i must clarify the last sentence isn’t reader having a complete 180 change of personality all of a sudden rather just acting different than she was right before leaving to sort of leave ellie stunned if that makes sense but i didn’t know how to end it and clarify that eheh also i might make a part 2 of this after i finish my next fic and the part 2 to my other fic if u guys want it <3 also ONCE AGAIN english is not my first language i’m not completely fluent yet and i write as a way to practice ++ i don’t have a beta reader sooo if u guys find mistakes PLEASE let me know !! thx for reading <33

#arielle writes ୨୧ #arielle’s 18+ ୨୧ #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader

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