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drabblesandimagines · 2 months

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Hi there, I would like to request Cloud, if thats okay. A sparring session that leads into an unexpected kiss?

Just read you are feeling under the weather, hope you feel better soon!

Sweet anon, I'm sorry this took me literally months! Please lemme know what you think x

It’s late as you leave your room at Stargazer Heights, pulling the door closed behind you with a gentle click. The weight of your new sword still feels unnervingly foreign on your back as you head down the stairs carefully, not wanting to disturb any of your neighbours’ sleep with your heavy footfalls.

Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean theirs should suffer in return.

Your beloved, trusty sword, after many years of faithful service in the Watch, had snapped clean in two after a particularly good thwack against a hard-shelled creature whilst on a job in the scrapyard earlier that day. If that wasn’t enough, it just had to happen in front of Cloud Strife, the blonde ex-Soldier who had joined the Avalanche ranks - temporarily, at least – and who you were somewhat hoping to impress with your mastery of the blade as common ground over the past few weeks.

“You’d be good for him, you know?” Tifa had teased over the bar one night, catching you staring a little too long as he sat down the opposite end, nursing a drink. You’d have told her to hush if Barret’s voice wasn’t booming around the establishment, meaning you were lucky to have even heard her comment in the first place.

Instead, you answer flustered. “What? I… He’s your… No!”

“I don’t like him like that, sweetie.” She’d reassured, patting your hand with a smile. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

“Me?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s aware I exist, not with how Jessie has been all over him.”

“Mm.” Tifa purses her lips in thought before they pulled back into a knowing smile – she’d caught the merc’s gaze flickering in your direction before it settled back on the drink before him. “No, I think Cloud’s warming up to you. Let me see what I can do.”

“Tifa-“

Biggs’ warm hand wrapped around your arm and tugged you up from the bar and away from your protest in an instant. “Come on, you owe me a rematch and I’ve finally convinced Wedge to let us have a round.”

You concede, destroying Biggs at darts once again would be a good distraction from the blonde at the bar. Besides, what could Tifa do anyway?

What Tifa could do, apparently, was make it so whenever Cloud took on a job, Biggs or Wedge would insist you tag along to help him navigate the area – sometimes with Tifa, sometimes without – and that’s what had led you to today, stuck deep within the scrapyard with a broken blade.

You’d never been any good with your fists, nor could aim a gun straight – despite tips from Tifa and Biggs over the years – so, reluctantly, you’d been relegated to the back line for the rest of the outing. At the most, you could fling a spell or two from the materia still equipped in the broken hilt when you could.

Unfortunately, it meant you didn’t have anything really to defend yourself with whilst the materia recharged. A nasty hit from a retreating drake had sent you tumbling backwards, head literally over heels. It dived back down at you, realizing you were now easy prey, ready to go for a nasty bite when a certain blonde merc’s sword dug into its side, sending it flying over in Tifa’s direction who finished it off with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick – all before your life could flash before your eyes.

“Are you okay?” Cloud crouches in front of you, his sword already sheathed, and places a hand on your arm as he awaits your answer. His expression, usually stoic and unreadable, is marred by a slight furrow in his brow as he looks you over with concerned Mako-blue eyes.

He must find you at least tolerable, you’d decided, as he didn’t seem to protest as much when you joined them on jobs like this around the slums.

Though maybe not ever again after today’s pathetic display.

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling foolish. “Still in one piece. Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and gets to his feet, offering you his hand in assistance.

You take it, relishing the feeling as his gloved fingers wrap around your palm. He pulls you up with a little too much gusto – or maybe underestimates his own strength - sending you stumbling forward. You try and catch your balance, only to find your hand placed firmly against his chest, his other hand now on the small of your back in alarm.

“Uh…”

“S-sorry,” you stutter out and retreat back, bowing your head as your face feels horrendously warm. Somewhere behind you, Tifa poorly attempts to hide a giggle.

“It’s fine.” His tone is back to his usual curt manner. “Come on - we should head back.” And without another word, Cloud spins on his heels and storms off ahead.

“Cloud, wait up!” Tifa calls, threading her arm through yours to pull you along with her. “He’ll get there – don’t worry.”

You’d taken the blade in to the weapons store below the Watch’s HQ after reporting in, Cloud and Tifa following behind. The proprietor dutifully inspected it for a few moments before deeming it beyond reasonable repair - said he could re-forge it, but it would only last a hit or two before it snapped in two again and he didn’t want the bad advertisement. He’d offered some gil for the scrap metal value and waved to the selection of his ready-made wares. Even with the gil he’d proposed and from your own pocket, the prices made your eyes water.

“Can I pay in instalments?”

He scoffs.

“You know I’m good for it.”

“This ain’t a charity, kid.”

“Here.” Cloud had stepped forward then, placing a pouch of gil on the counter. “That should cover it.”

“What?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. Cloud had been hounding Tifa and Barret for his pay for days and you knew he still hadn’t received all of it yet. “No, I couldn’t – that’s yours.”

“You need a weapon.” He shrugs, Tifa bouncing on her heels behind him at his act of generosity, a told you so smile plastered across her face. “Pay me back in instalments, if you want. I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods, crossing his arms. “You’re good with a blade, it would be a waste for you not to have one.”

Your scalp tingles at the compliment.

The blades all felt lighter - maybe you’d grown stronger over time? - though they were thinner in width in comparison to your old blade. You’d performed a cautionary test swing of each towards the back of the shop but they all felt off, unbalanced. Begrudgingly, one felt a little less odd to wield so you’d settled with that, thankful it was a mid-range price of the selection so you hadn’t needed the entirety of Cloud’s gil pouch.

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can – I promise.”

Cloud shrugs, as usual.

You swing at the tower of boxes you’d assembled in the middle of the wasteland, trying to be precise and knock out the one in the middle, but as soon as you release the momentum you nearly lose your balance, missing entirely. If you were in combat, it would’ve been a pathetic sight to behold. Thankfully, you were the only one to wit-

“Hi.”

You jump, spinning on your heels to face the blonde mercenary, holding your blade aloft in a defensive stance to an unimpressed face.

“Cloud! Hi.” Your heart is pounding at his sudden arrival – how could you not have heard him approaching? You lower your blade to rest on the floor. “Sorry, did I wake you when I left?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep so I heard you leave.” He folds his arms, looking a little displeased. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own, you know? It’s not safe.”

“I wanted to get some practice in, that’s all.” You look down at the sword in your hand in demonstration. “There’s been no more wererats here since you cleaned out the nest either, so it’s safe enough.”

“It’s not just fiends I’m talking about.”

That’s true – unfortunately, you weren’t a complete stranger to the troopers that often patrolled the slums. All it took was one to recognize your face and you’d be dragged to Shinra HQ faster than you could blink.

“I really need to get used to the weight, though. Barret wants to strike any day and-“

“Fine. I’ll spar with you.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Really?”

“Why not?” He reaches back for his sword, before swinging it out in front of him playfully. “Unless you’re scared.”

You bite your lip in a smile. “Bring it on, Strife.”

Cloud holds back at first, acting more as a training dummy for you to swing at. He doesn’t even need to deflect any of your blows at the beginning, but as you become familiar with the weight and how the new blade swings, finally he starts to raise his sword in return, the sound of metal clashing echoing through the air before one firm blow sends you toppling back, the Buster Sword now inches above your neck.

“Better.” He pulls back his sword and offers you his hand, which you gratefully accept, bracing yourself for his strength this time to avoid what had happened that afternoon. “Try again.”

You’re not sure how much time passes like that, but steadily your confidence in your weapon grows and it turns into a proper sparring bout, both giving it your absolute all. As your blades clash, crossed in front of each other’s faces, you risk a smile at the blonde merc. Suddenly, Cloud’s forearms lose their tension, meaning you get an upperhand you were not expecting. You swing your sword out to the right and fall forward, Cloud toppling backwards, his sword to his right, and his head smacking into the ground as you fall on top of him.

“Oh… Shiva,” you gasp, heart pounding, your thighs somehow straddling around his. “Are you hurt?”

Cloud doesn’t reply, staring up at you in bemusement as he tries to catch his breath.

“Cloud?” You lean down, planting your hands either side of his head for balance.

He lifts his head, suddenly, and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your arms go limp and you drop into his embrace, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close as you return the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, fingers curling into his blonde hair, blissfully lost in the moment until there is an odd, inhuman sound from behind you.

Cloud sits bolt upright, twisting you as he does so you’re sat in his lap, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and, somehow, the Buster Sword back in his other hand as he holds it out in defense.

A cat sits a few meters in front of the two of you, flicking its tail back and forth curiously. You feel his muscles relax beneath your touch at the realization. You get to your feet then, grabbing your blade as you do so and securing it against your back. Though you feel flustered, you can’t turn down the opportunity to offer Cloud an assisting hand this time.

To your delight, he accepts, somehow twisting it as he stands in order to intertwine your fingers within his.

“We… We, er, should get back.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He leads you back through the tunnel, silently, fingers still laced, and back towards Stargazer Heights. You climb the stairs together before he brings you to a stop outside your door, hesitating. Your stomach twists – does he regret what happened? Are you just to wake up tomorrow morning and it will feel like nothing but a dream?

A firm squeeze of your hand brings you back to the present, as if he could read your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about that for a while.” Cloud whispers, cautious of his voice carrying through the neighbours’ door. “It’s… unfortunate that we were interrupted.”

You place a hand on your door handle and smile, coyly. “Would you like to come in?”

Cloud smirks. “Do you have any pets?”

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

#ghostdogwrites #cloud strife x you #cloud strife x reader

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natsaffection · 6 months

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hi 👋 how are you??

im having stressful exams this month, a lot of tough subjects, and i'm so frustrated with it all. could you please share your thoughts on how natty would handle r in a situation like this? maybe in the "my sweet baby" universe??

if you can, thank you so much, my love 💖

Together. | N. Romanoff

Sugar Mommy!Natasha x Sugar Baby!Reader

warnings: Just fluff🍀🍀

words: 947

A/n: Please take care of yourself if it gets too much, drink cocoa, and do other fun and relaxing things!!☕️

Now you're sitting in front of it again. One stack after the other, and it just didn't stop?

Why did you decide to do it again? Ah...Right...Future...

You were a bit frustrated, you had imagined your days to be different from sitting in Natasha's living room and cramming for hours. Natasha was also busy with herself in a meeting, and you couldn't help but take a leaf out of her book. Maybe one day you will be as successful as her..Run your own business someday.

CEO Of the L/N Company..Sounds good already....

"What are you thinking about?" As if she knew you were thinking about her right now, Natasha stands in the room and looks at you smiling, you sigh and put the stapler you had in your hand on the table, "Can't I just start with you?" Natasha could hear the frustration in your voice, and when she saw all the paper stuff she knew exactly what you meant. You see her looking at you with an unfamiliar look and suddenly she’s leaving.

She just left, Damn, you did something wrong..Before you could dive further into negative scenarios, she came back and sits down right next to you, "Alright, what are we looking at here?" You looked at her in confusion, "What about your meeting?"

Natasha reached for a stapler that was on the table, "Finished it, you are more important to me than listening to some people who think they can do something better," She looks back at you, "Now let's talk about you. So, what's it about?"

You couldn't help but smile softly. You can already feel the pressure easing a bit, ,,Aspects of human history and experience.“ Natasha flipped through the sheets a bit and as you did, she asked, „What can you think of already?“

Okay, how do you tell her you've just been staring at it so far? „Uhm..“ Natasha put the folder on her knees and this time looks directly at you, „You haven't looked at it yet, have you?“

You sigh again and lean against the couch, „I wonder how you managed to make everything look so easy, Nat. You're rich, you have your own company, and it seems like you don't have to worry about anything..“

Natasha's eyes softened, and she put a hand on your thighs, her voice soft and soothing. „Y/n, it may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you, success did not come on its own. I, too, sat on the floor and studied for hours. I had to deal with countless obstacles, setbacks, and doubts. Getting to where I am now took hard work and determination.“

You continue to look at her, „I know it won't be easy, but sometimes it just feels overwhelming. I want to achieve great things, but the road ahead seems so long..“

Natasha smiled and squeezed your thigh, „I believe in you, Y/n. You have the intelligence, the drive, and the passion. Remember that every little step brings you closer to your goals. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor were successful businesses or successful careers.“ Natasha realized that she was playing to your motivation with her speech, so she took the chance and went right on, „So, can you tell me anything interesting about any of these civilizations yet? Which ones are there, for example?“

Your eyes lit up as you begin to share your knowledge. „Well, the Egyptians, for example, were known for their impressive pyramids, and they believed in the afterlife.. They had intricate burial practices to prepare for the journey to the afterlife.“

Natasha nodded, acknowledging your answer, „That's right. It's fascinating how different societies view life and death. What are the challenges you find in learning about this topic?“

You sighed for the third time now, your frustration evident. „I get overwhelmed by all the dates and names. I feel like there's so much to remember.“

Natasha's voice sounded reassuring. „It's normal for you to feel this way. Let's try to break it down. We'll focus on one civilization at a time and create a timeline. That way it won't feel so scary. Also, I'm here to help you with the names and dates, understand?“

That sounds like a lot of work, you thought to yourself, but not for you, for Natasha, „Nat..Is this really okay that I'm keeping you here like this? you must have-" she interrupted you directly, „Quit that.“ She leans toward you, " „What good does it do me to have you sinking here in front of me, hm? I'd hire someone for you to make your tables and everything you need, so. Carry on.“

You had to smile again and nodded your agreement. At some point you reached a point where Natasha asked, „Let's talk about the ancient Mesopotamian civilizations. What else do you know about them?“

You think for a moment before answering, „They were known for their sophisticated writing system and the Code of Hammurabi, which was one of the earliest law codes.“ Natasha nodded in agreement. „That's right. And what do you know about the Indus Valley civilization?“

You hesitated, struggling to remember the details. „I'm not sure about that.. I think it was an ancient civilization on the Indian subcontinent, but I don't remember much else.“

Natasha smiled, without a hint of frustration in her voice. „ And that's all right, Y/n. The Indus Valley Civilization was actually on the Indian subcontinent, and they had advanced city planning with well-organized cities.“ Natasha notices you drifting off again, and she puts the things aside, „It's normal to forget some details. We'll work on it together.“

You appreciate her patience and support. „Thank you for your understanding, Natasha. Sometimes it's frustrating when I can't remember everything.“ Natasha reassured you, „It's all part of the learning process. We'll take another look at Indus Valley Civilization and make sure you understand it thoroughly.“

I need a Natasha. 🥲

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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ditttiii · 1 year

Text

KINTSUGI. | 0T7 (M) || 04 |

◈ Hybrid AU || Ot7 x Reader

◈ Summary: Life is neither fair nor what you had dreamed that it would be, but the hand that fate had dealt them was worse than yours.

When you get a chance to adopt seven hybrids, all a little rough around the edges, do you take it? Will this last-ditch attempt at doing something right end with you buried six feet under the ground or will it finally give you the family that you have always secretly hoped for?

◈ Genre: eventual romance || hurt/comfort || angst (with a happy ending) || eventual smut.

◈ Chapter Four

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: none. (sfw)

◈ Masterlist

Moodboard By: @today-we-will-survive ❤

you know i didn't want to

have to haunt you,

but what a ghostly scene.

You feel like a live wire, buzzing and zapping sporadically in all the wrong places. This is a mess; you are a mess. Your feelings are tangled and knotted tight like a pair of old wired headphones, and the more you try to pull them apart, the tighter the tangle grows.

Sinking deeper into your hoodie, you exhale in an attempt to keep warm, shuffling across the sweeping, empty parking lot to get to your SUV as quickly as you can.

The wind outside is cold and no less harsh than when you had stepped foot outside hours ago, but somehow for the first time since you got here, you feel warm. The cold outside feels less hostile, less biting, and your inhales no longer make you feel like the air is trying to suffocate you the more you breathe it in.

It had taken hours for the whole thing to be done. More hours than you were comfortable with inside that place to finally get the seven hybrids registered under your custody, and with a pained sigh, you sink into your seat. Hands-on the steering, you still. Just for a minute.

I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.

A minute. Just for a minute, you allow yourself to feel weak. Let your walls down alone and feel your heart squeeze inside your chest till it hurts to breathe, till the burn spreads from your thorax to your throat. Hold your breath till your ears pop and you feel enough pain to find just enough self-pity to stop scourging yourself like this.

I miss you.

The constant sense of vacuity and inadequateness you feel is now accompanied by the feeling of being undeserving and wholly unprepared for what is to come but shuddering a breath in, you let them settle.

The minute’s up.

Turning the gear into reverse, you back out of the parking lot.

In the time that it had taken you to finish all the formalities, the sun had set. Darkness shrouds the entire place, creating shadows that alter their shape if looked at for a second too long and play games with you. The already eerie place becomes even scarier, and you hasten to pick up the seven awaiting hybrids.

Coming to a stop in front of the building, you unlock all the doors and unroll the passenger side window.

“Hey, guys. So there’s enough space in the back for three people, but it would be better if the…um, smaller of you seven take the last seat?” Right off the bat, you hope your poor choice of words doesn’t offend anyone.

“Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok; in the back.”

Unlike how it freezes you in place, Naamjoon’s commanding voice stirs his pack into action and wordlessly, the three climb into place; Namjoon takes the passenger seat for himself. The remaining three take the middle-row seats, and with a mute nod, you put the car back into drive.

“I live some 40 minutes away, so get comfortable. Also, I know it’s a bit of a drive, but we can make a pitstop along the way if someone needs something?”

“Anyone?” Namjoon reiterates.

Variations of I’m good, and I’m fine fill the silence in the car before the quiet reigns again, and you try not to think too hard about how they are really answering Namjoon and not you.

Did you even expect them to?—No—you know it too, but a very tiny part of you, buried deep enough where you refuse to acknowledge its existence, wishes that you all were at least talking to each other.

Taking the hint that they might not respond to you unless prompted by their leader, you keep quiet and drive back home in silence.

Blinking dry eyes wet, you press your finger into the biometric scanner of the main gate. A second passes as it registers who you are before the heavy main gate slides open electronically, and you drive in. Tall trees line both sides of your driveway. From the corner of your eye, you watch as the men in the back shift in their seats, leaning forward and showing maybe the first signs of genuine interest in something since you first laid your eyes on them. Soft yellow-lit lamps line the right side of the road, grass sprouting around and encompassing the path in stretches of green, interrupted only by the various stone statues you have gathered over the years. Some passed on, some bought by you.

It’s a consolation because even if nothing works out and you can never fully gain their trust or friendship, you can provide for them well. Do your best to give everything that they ever desire and protect them.

A soft gasp escapes Jungkook, bunny ears stirring under his pullover hoodie and the reflection of the passing lamps, the yellow and gold glittered clear amidst his large eyes visible even from where you are sitting. The sight of him unguarded for a moment warms your heart for a reason you can’t yet put your finger on.

Finally, after a lengthy, awkwardly silent ride, the car rests as you pull up in front of the main house gate.

“I’ll have to park the car in the garage, but you guys can get off here. I’ll come back around in a minute.”

“I’ll stay.”

You blink at Namjoon’s response, unsure of what that means for the rest of the hybrids. You weren’t very comfortable leaving them all alone in a foreign space either, but the property was secured, and there was no point in making them all walk back unnecessarily.

“Okay,” concludes Yoongi, getting out of the car. No one protests after, wordlessly following him and getting out one by one. You put the car into drive again with all of them off but one.

Waiting for the garage door to open, you sneak a peek at Namjoon. The wolf hybrid sits perfectly straight, his shoulders wide and broader than the seat rest behind him. Does he not trust you to come back? But that’s a ridiculous notion. Even if he didn’t trust you, which you are sure is the case one way or another, he’s smart enough to know you can’t exactly escape from them in your own house. Putting the car into park, you wonder. Is he being…protective?

In the distance, you see the six of them. Yoongi’s long silver hair made it obvious who was leaning a little space away from the rest of the pack against one of the lamp poles. Hoseok and Jimin are standing close to Jungkook’s hunched figure while Taehyung sits on one of the bottom stairs.

“Do you have any advice for me?”

There. You’ve said it. Regardless of Namjoon’s response, it’s worth a shot.

He remains quiet, not a break in his pace, and you turn to look at him fully. Long, black strands rest against a narrow, sharp face and a vain part of you wonders if hybrids are all genetically tailored to look unreal amounts of pretty or if it’s just your pack.

“Whatever you think is the best mistress.”

That word again. You shift to hide your grimace. The word leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you need to figure out a way to get them to stop saying it.

“My name’s fine, really. You don’t have to–”

“Mistress, please.”

You pause. There’s–

“Don’t ask us to do that.”

Namjoon sounds…pained doesn’t feel right to you, but it’s something similar. You don’t know him well enough yet to be sure, but you can’t help but think he sounds resigned. It’s the kind of bone-deep weary resignation that makes you swallow back all of the arguments that you have.

“Alright,” you concede. You won’t broach the subject with the rest of the pack until you have Namjoon on your side, and if he isn’t ready yet, then you are willing to wait. Slow and steady.

“Jungkook likes you.”

Your eyes widen. “Sorry?”

Piercing hazel eyes turn to you, and you can’t even blink. Something about Namjoon’s presence is vital, he demands respect with every breath, and you unconsciously straighten up, giving him your full attention.

“He’s the youngest, but he trusts you already. He isn’t the easiest and he has his troubles, but—”

For the first time, you see a crack in Namjoon’s shell. It’s barely there, a very thin hair crack and you only see it because you are looking, but his eyes soften. Just the barest millimetre, and if you blink, you’ll likely not see it again. The edges curled in on themselves, warmth seeping into that otherwise impaling gaze.

“He isn’t cold. He still believes in goodness and wants a purpose,” Namjoon searches your gaze again like he had a few hours prior, looking for something you are unsure you possess.

“Mistress, if it isn’t too much trouble, please keep him around you. Let him help you. He’s honest and receptive to your wishes and it’ll be the quickest way for him to acclimatise to the change.”

You see Jungkook hunched in on himself, scared maybe but still curious as his head turns to look at you, and one of his ears pokes out from under the hoodie, crooked and curious as he sees you two approach.

“I will.”

Fishing out the house key from your front pocket, you jam it in the lock, twisting it with a little more force than you would if the weather out was a little warmer. You make a mental note to get the lock lubricated.

The door opens to darkness, and you step in, quickly reaching a few steps ahead to switch on the lights. The inside is blessedly warmer and you shuffle your new housemates in, locking the door shut behind you.

“This is it. Welcome!” The forced cheer in your voice is slightly awkward, tinged with nervousness and anxiety. You will now have seven housemates who also call you mistress and treat you as one.

This is going to take some time to get used to.

“Do you guys want a tour of sorts first, or I can show you your rooms, and you can freshen up?”

A gurgling stomach is the first one to respond.

“Right, I’ll get started with the dinner while you guys get cleaned up.”

“Dinner would be lovely, mistress.” It’s Hobi this time, and your lips curl into a bright, encouraging smile.

“Perfect. However, I am gonna need some help with cooking. I don’t have much experience cooking for more than two people, so do any of you know your way around the kitchen?”

“Mistress..” Seokjin steps up, his tall frame appearing from behind the huddle, “I know a few dishes and am decent with recipes for most others that I don’t know.”

Nodding, you beckon him over to the kitchen while asking the rest of them to wait for you to come back.

Quickly showing him what’s in the refrigerator, you pull out some vegetables and meat, explaining how you’d like him to cut them before you rush out to the remaining hybrids.

“Alright, follow me.”

Climbing the wooden staircase, you lead them to the first floor, where most rooms are. Explaining the basic layout of your house en route and letting them know to explore and figure out the rest. Pointing to the door of your room, you simply tell them it’s yours. Wondering for a second if maybe you should ask them to not go in without asking you but ultimately push back your inhibitions, deciding not to.

“There are three rooms on this floor besides mine, all large enough for two, but it could be a tight squeeze for three. There are another two rooms on the ground floor if someone would like those.”

Ultimately, you decide to let them figure out the details of their living quarters on their own and quietly make your escape once you have established they know the directions to the ground floor rooms.

Coming into the kitchen, you see Seokjin’s tall figure hunched over your granite counter, long thin fingers gripping the knife confidently as he slices in practiced, uniform motions.

“Need any help?”

Huh—the bear hybrid jumps, looking at you with a startled gaze and you rush to apologise. Maybe not all of them are equally as aware of their surroundings.

With another apology, you smile, coming to stand beside him.

“I have got it, mistress.”

Nodding, you leave him to finish the preparation as you work on making the broth.

“Do you want a bathroom break or something? I know I dragged you here first thing as soon as we came in. I can hold down the fort alone for a while if you’d like to get refreshed,” you offer, guilt weighing your stomach down at having to ask for help so soon.

Seokjin smiles, and it’s a small, soft thing. All full pink lips and gentle warmth and try as you might, you can’t force your gaze away from it. With a shake of his head, he reassures you and nodding you accept his response wordlessly. Still a little awe-struck by the smile.

It’s quiet as you work alongside each other, but the silence isn’t awkward or oppressive. Unlike Namjoon or Yoongi, despite his broad shoulders and tall height, Seokjin isn’t as intimidating. You have no doubt that if a situation arose that demanded it, the predator, that half of him is, would make an appearance. Sharp, long nails stretched out from the ends of his nailbed, a subtle reminder of his part identity. However, at the same time, in the warm yellow lighting of your kitchen, surrounded by a pile of finely chopped vegetables and meat and wearing your soft pink apron, he feels no part predator and all parts the man himself.

You exit the kitchen in a rush, handing him the apron hanging off a kitchen chair. It’s apparent you are stressed, worried about making them comfortable and maybe not knowing how to.

Jin isn’t the leader of the pack, but he is the oldest, and with it comes experience that even Namjoon lacks. He has known what it is like to be a hybrid the longest between them, had the most time to come to terms with it before the uprising, and in some ways, he feels for Jungkook.

Maybe that’s why the others aren’t entirely wrong in their assumption when they accuse him of playing favourites with Jungkook. Because while the youngest isn’t his favourite—he could never choose one of them, they are all his just as much as he is theirs—Jin is the most protective of him. It’s the kind of parental love that a hybrid never really has the privilege to feel, but a stroke of fate and his bleeding heart for those his kind had led Jungkook to experience it. In their own way, they all feel the most for their maknae, wishing to protect the most vulnerable of their group, not wanting him to be as jaded as they are, and he hopes it’s the same for you too.

He boasts of a past no better than any of his pack, but unlike Namjoon, who functions with cautiosness that stems from the self-alloted weight of his whole pack and then some, or Yoongi, who shields himself under a layer of hostility so thick very rarely has Jin himself seen the Yoongi that breathes underneath all that facade; Jin still trusts humans. He still remembers when things weren’t as bad and knows that not all of humanity is alike. There are vicious hybrids, just as there are kind humans, and denying the existence of either by the other is foolish.

He hears your voice as you pass him by the kitchen, the rest of his pack tailing behind you quietly while you chat; whether to fill the silence or to help them fill at ease, he doesn’t know.

Jin doesn’t feel comfortable with the unknown and is unaware of plenty.

Like—you; who you are besides what he has already seen and deduced, the real you. The you who chose to have them. He needs to know your reasons for adopting seven hybrids at the worst time you could have chosen. Jin is no fool; he realises how rare anyone wanting a single hybrid is nowadays, let alone seven. Had he been a human, your actions would have screamed a death wish to him. And yet you still did, choosing to do the unpopular and maybe even unwise.

He can hear the slam of a door closing as several pairs of feet walk above him, the distinct thump of feet against wood, and he hopes, despite all the unknown and unwise, that he is right for putting his faith in you.

Dinner is an odd affair. You aren’t used to having another person under the same roof as you, let alone half a dozen others. Once Jin and you are done cooking, you ask Jungkook—hanging by the kitchen entrance—to call the others, soon passing on a stack of plates to Hoseok and giving him free rein to set the table. When you come out of the kitchen, at last, it’s to the assumption that everyone else must have already picked a seat and settled down, but the sight that greets you is different. Disturbingly so.

The seven hybrids stand divided behind the two sides of the table, leaving both ends clear, with their heads bowed and hands folded. It shouldn’t surprise you after today, after everything you have seen and felt, after the almost breakdown you’ve had, realising the extent of their servitude and yet it does. Something about being under the same roof had fooled you into thinking they’d treat you just like they do each other. Something about the domesticity of sharing your kitchen space, cooking with someone and having someone waiting on you at the end had deluded you into a sense of normalcy.

The scene that you walk into quickly shatters that illusion.

“Sit down please, it’s late and we should all be heading to bed soon anyway,” you force yourself to be casual as you take one head of the table, unsure if the nonchalance is for their benefit or if you are just too cowardly to ask why they don’t feel comfortable sitting until you do.

Time. You’ll take it one step at a time, and this is a battle you choose to not wage today.

The sobs are quiet, muffled, and maybe some other day, you wouldn’t have heard them, but tonight you are careful and the unmistakable sound of crying brings you to a sudden halt. You debate going in, fearing the unknown and fumbling out of your depth as you stand there with sweaty fingers clenched white around the cool metal handle. You pray for resilience—strength you don’t have left after the long day, curse yourself for hesitating and force yourself to turn the handle.

Curled into himself, hands wrapped around his knees and eyes leaking tears hidden in the space between. You don’t need to remove the cloth over his head to know it’s Jungkook dwarfed in a frayed oversized hoodie. The shudders that were poorly muffled before are quiet now, his breaths seized as he no doubt registers your presence. A voice inside you supplies how he must have heard you even before you had stepped into the hallway with his abilities.

But if so, why hadn’t he quieted down then? Did he not think you would care enough to check?

Whatever remnants of hesitation were left regarding reaching out faded at the sight of him trying to curl his broad shoulders tighter into each other.

“Jungkook?” you call, moving closer.

He doesn’t answer, head lowering further into the gaps of his knees and the hood over his head slides away a little at the moment. One lonesome ear peaking out, down and tucked close, and you ache to gather him in a hug.

“Hey Koo…,” voice soft as a feather, you get down on your knees, inching closer until there’s less than a metre of space between you two. This close, you hear the barely audible sniffles as he breathes through a wet and, judging by the downturned head—leaking nose.

Jungkook shivers under your touch as you place a hand over his clothed knee and a semblance of hope bubbles in your heart realising that at least he hadn’t flinched. You think he’s frightened of the unknown too, but maybe he isn’t terrified of you.

“I won’t force you to talk if you don’t want to, and I don’t want you to explain something you don’t feel comfortable with. I just want to know if you are okay.”

The lone long ear twitches, rising slowly.

“Can we start there?”

Your words are still soft, quiet, so no one outside hears anything, and Jungkook finally stirs. A pair of deep chocolate brown eyes rise to meet yours and you don’t know if it’s the tears or the stark bathroom lighting reflecting back, but for an instant, you swear nothing has shimmered quite as bright.

“Yeah. okay.” he says, and it’s just as quiet and for a brief moment, you sit there in companionable silence, content to be still except for the small of your hand rubbing comforting circles on his knee.

Keeping hold of his gaze, you smile a small but encouraging smile. “Are you?”

“I don’t know.”

Nodding, you accept the unexpectedly raw confession. “That’s okay. To be honest, I don’t know if I am either but as long as you hold on. I think that’s ultimately what matters the most. Not giving up.”

Pools of deep molten brown widen, an emotion you can’t identify swimming in them before he averts his gaze, biting his lips nervously.

“I am sorry, mistress.”

With a shake of your head, you dismiss his apology. “There is nothing to apologise for. It’s okay to not be okay and to cry,” your fingers tighten around his knee, “Just know you are not alone. There are people who care; you know they care, and I care too. So let us be there for you, okay?”

His gaze still glistens but he gathers enough to where the shudders stop and you make yourself comfortable on the floor. At this point, there isn’t much you feel like you can do to make him change his mind over whatever it is that’s tormenting him, but at the same time, you know what suffering is like too. You’ve been there, down on your knees at your worst, crying and begging things to change to go back in time. Long for something you never had, for a release and a better next day.

So, you don’t know what he has been through and don’t see how you can make it better at the moment (if anyone can), but you do know loneliness. The poignant void that your mind can weave that makes you feel alone in a crowded room—thoughts that weigh your core—the only thing keeping you company, and it’s horrible. You hate being lonely but enjoy being alone and it’s that feeling of powerlessness. Being unable to understand where the feelings come from and only knowing how heavy they weigh you down settled around your shoulders, claws digging into your skin, leaving bruises unseen.

If being here is the only thing you can ever do for him–any of them–you’ll do it. Day after day till your last.

Moments and minutes blur into each other as you sit pressed with your knee against his, the reassuring warmth of company tugging you two back to the present and in place. Eventually, he nods. Long thin fingers peek out from a large hoodie to wipe away any residual tears.

“Yes, mistress.”

Smiling, you lean closer to Jungkook, the barest bit, cautious of his boundaries, and your heart physically warms when he moves to do the same. It’s not an embrace, with your head barely grazing his shoulder, most of its weight still being held up by your neck and one of his ears flopping down to rest against your ear, more a ghost touch than any real contact, but it feels better than any hug you have received in years. You stay there, enveloped in each other’s warmth and hesitant touches, until the tiles under you grow warm and your eyes start to feel heavy. The surprise of being comfortable in another’s presence omitted in your exhausted state of mind. Eventually, Jungkook moves. Or you slip. You aren’t sure which came first but when you finally start coming to, it’s to the feeling of Jungkook’s hands around your forearms, straightening you up as he supports your unsteady, half-asleep body.

“Oh god I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” a blush cloaks your cheeks and you wish you were wearing an oversized hoodie too, if only so you could hide behind the comforting cloak of said fabric.

Jungkook shakes his head, both ears now on display as he smiles. It’s small and timid and he can barely meet your gaze for more than a second but it’s more than what you had expected to gain by the end of the day and certainly far more than anything you could have even hoped for.

Fragile and new it may be, but you two now have a bond.

It’s not onesided. You know you are not just fooling yourself when the same fingers lightly grab the back of your tee as you move through the hallway, intending to leave Jungkook at his bedroom door, preferably with one of his hyungs.

Slightly embarrassed, you realise you don’t exactly know which room he is in or with whom. “Which room did you pick, Jungkook?”

Shuffling a little closer to you, his fingers pinch your tee tighter and you slow your pace, leaning back to catch his gaze. “I mean, I know this sounds stupid, considering it’s my house but mind directing me to your room?”

His eyes visibly soften, and he nods, leading without another word. Jungkook lets go of the back of your tee only to grab your full sleeve from the side a second later.

You furiously squash the voice inside your head urging you to pinch his cheeks.

“I was planning on doing a grocery run tomorrow morning, so if there’s anything you want, just let me know.”

“Can I come?”

Surprised, you look at him. “Ofcourse you can, but you really don’t have to. I will probably leave early, and well, it’s just a grocery run. I will take you guys out to get some stuff later in the day. Today’s been long; if you want to sleep in, you should.”

He shuffles shyly, one hand in his pocket and one grabbing your sleeve. “I want to.”

Something in your chest constricts, too tight and too full as the rest of you feels slightly weightless. This boy is going to be the death of you.

Namjoon opens the door to the room Jungkook leads you, and the youngest wishes you night with a bow and a soft thank you before shuffling in. The straight, quivering ears give away the excitement and joy the rest of him so desperately tries to hide in favour of being poised.

It makes and breaks your heart. You are happy—beyond thankful—that he has started to consider you as more than just his owner, maybe not yet a friend, but at least someone he trusts. However, the way his responses, ingrained and trained, all have an underlying hint of servitude; it makes you want to protect him from yourself, lest you do something to encourage that sense of captivity that comes so naturally to him.

“Goodnight, mistress.”

Namjoon’s voice is all gravel and stone as he drops you off at your bedroom door despite all your protests.

There’s a thankyou somewhere lodged in your chest, pushing against the confines of your ribs and wanting to escape through the hollows in between, words that tickle the back of your throat, begging to come out and tell him how you think Jungkook trusts you now. Ask him shamefully if he thinks you are doing good, if he trusts you to take care of him and his family.

But the words never come, and with the greeting returned, you step inside your room, shutting the door on the longest day of your life.

a/n: i am alive. i am back and my apology comes in the form of this nearly 5k word chapter. this has been a long time coming and i have no excuse. i am scum. life just got away from me and it took all of me and then some to get it back on track. if you wanna talk to me, shoot me an ask. i am always beyond happy when i get the chance to talk to any of you so yes! i m here and i hope you are here too.

Lemme know what you thought of the chapter in the comments please! it's as always the support and comments that bring me back to some of my stories with the drive to give them the ending that they and you all deserve. We have got a long road ahead of us but i promise to make it worth it 💕 Thankyou so much for reading my story! i love you ❣️ i hope you have an amazing day/night ahead 🫶

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

Note

Where do you think Kar’niss got his sword? It’s a very nice sword. Not just some off the rack gear. And named as well—-

*drags palms over face* This effin’ SWOOOORD! It has haunted my nightmares since Kar’niss’ corpse first dumped it into my Tav’s lap. I’ve dug and dug and dug and I’m left with more questions than answers. Knowing my luck there is some obscure text or throwaway dialogue somewhere I’ve missed that might lend me a better clue. Damn you Baldur’s Gate 3, you’re too bloody big.

So, I began to write out this big blob of text going into the history of drow weaponry, hues of metals, in-game model comparisons, the stats on the damn thing, and so forth. I was out here looking like this guy for two hours.

Truth is, it’s really difficult to pinpoint the source of Kar’niss’ weapon. Not because there aren’t clues, but because Larian reuses longsword models so much that looking at the weapon alone isn’t solid enough. I almost came to the conclusion that it was an original drowcraft sword pre-1370’s DR until I discovered another sword model that was identical and not tied to drow at all. That and if it was truly a drowcraft weapon forged via faerzress methods then Larian would’ve changed the rules on how they worked. Which makes sense. It’s a fun bit of lore, but it would be a pain in the ass for a game mechanic. Who wants their badass weapons destroyed or losing all magical abilities when you leave the Underdark?

“ME ME ME,” said no one.

The only thing I can say for certain is that it is a drow forged weapon because it carries a buff that only activates if a drow elf is wielding it. It also seems to be perfect for a drider since it also has ensnaring strands, an attack that does 1d10 slashing damage and possibly enwebs the target. This works in conjunction with the added 1d4 poison damage to restrained targets. The swords description may hold the best clue of its origin:

“The trauma of becoming a drider is quickly set aside with a cold arachnid dispassion. This sword follows that disturbing trend - a replenishing poison gland is built within, deployed only against trapped opponents.”

This description and the name, Cruel Sting, lead me to believe the weapon...was a gift.

Imagine Kar’niss fresh from his transformation. He’s dazed, in pain, lost and alone. He’s been exiled from the only home he’s ever known and has lost favor with the Goddess he’s worshiped from birth. His future is uncertain and how long he has left to live is even less so. His mind is shattered, the incoherent thoughts his only remaining company. He hears frantic footsteps approaching from behind him and his already broken heart shrivels more. His kin have come to finish the job, to put him down, so enraged by the offense he caused Lolth. Weak and struggling to keep himself upright he turns to make a last stand, to show strength in his final moments, to die with some level of honor.

His resolve melts into confusion when he sees who is sprinting toward him. The individual would be unknown to us, but well known to him. A childhood friend? A lover? A confidant? Or perhaps someone he fought alongside faithfully for many years. Regardless of whom has arrived a strong bond is present between them. They approach and peer at what Kar’niss has become. Their face twists, a brief flash of sorrow betraying their features. Yet they cannot let it remain, nor are they able to stay with him for too long. Instead, they unsheathe a sword they brought with them, hurriedly holding it up to Kar’niss. Naturally he flinches at first, expecting the blade to pierce his flesh. The strike never comes, rather the new comer pushes it toward him with urgency, expecting him to take it.

Hesitantly Kar’niss complies, taking the hilt in hand and admiring the beautiful drow craftsmanship. He frowns, his eyes lingering on the one who brought it to him, too stunned to speak.

“It will protect you, Kar’niss,” they said in a hushed tone. “...Goodbye, and good luck.”

Kar’niss could do no more than stand there as their former companion darted off quick as a shot, not willing to run further risk of being seen with the newly transformed abomination. He clutched the sword close to him, the last connection he had to the life he lived before. It would forever act as a reminder of everything he has lost, the cruelest sting of them all.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #answered #my writing #drow #lore #cruel sting #kar'niss lore #I am not sure how accurate that theory would be #but I think it suits the theme of Kar'niss' life #pure unfiltered tragedy #thanks for the ask!

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cvlutos · 1 year

Note

Unoriginal but a goody; Riddle finding rough drafts of your love letter to him. Or catching you chanting his name while touching yourself and his feelings on someone actually wanting him closer instead of wanting to run away from him.

♡ R.R | LOVE | FLUFF

He could literally turn into a pile of ash.

Face aflame as his hands shakily hold the crumbled papers, his name in ruined ink and your handwriting, you were confessing your love. He feels dizzy and the longer he stared at the multitude of papers, the closer he felt to falling unconscious on your hardwood floors.

It's not like he purposely ment to spy nor invade your privacy, but he needed your opinion on something rather important. But your weren't answering your phone and he isn't the biggest fan of texting important issues so face to face was the best option. Yet it didn't occur to him your wouldn't be home, he merely assumed you were over sleeping, like always.

So he of course let himself inside, which wasn't uncommon, only to tsk at the pile of crumbled papers across your floor from your desk. It was against the Queens rules to have a messy room Tuesday nights, so he decided to help you. Only to find that these papers weren't in fact notes, but letters and curiosity got the better of him.

The door opens with a soft click, and he feels the ends of his hair stand as he spins around clutching the paper behind his back. You stand, head slightly tilted, as he says hello. But his voice cracks at the end and he coughs nervously.

"Good Evening. I was—well. I am here to speak to you. Apologies for simply walking in—but um, I assumed—"

You wave him off with a small, telling him it's alright. Slipping your bag off your shoulders with an exasperated sigh. The House warden visibly relaxes, crumbling the papers behind he back and dropping them to the floor when you weren't looking. He pulls at his collar and clears his throat. "So—How was your day, dear Perfect."

"Long," you laugh and sigh at the same time, plopping down on your plush bed, "but good. How was yours?"

His eyes flicker to the pile as he sits on your bed, back straight and hands in his lap, "uh, productive... Yes... One could say, I learned quite a lot..."

"Like?" You inquire, undoing the buttons of your vest, having slipped off your blazer and tossed to the side, which Riddle would usually scold you for.

"I—That assertiveness is a admirable quality—" There's a certain firmness and you look at him, brows furrowing, yet he seems deep within his thoughts, clenching his together.

"I also learned... I'm not assertive enough...." He looks at you, before his gaze flickers to your lips. As if releasing his actions, he explodes into another fit of red, snapping his head away.

"Riddle?" The call of his name, sends a hot shiver down his spine and he can't help but scrunch his nose. It isn't a bad feeling, but its—

"Riddle." He looks at you, hands nearly shaking as he lunges for yours. Watching your emotions flicker visibly, before resting on confused, yet intrigued. There's no words exchange, none to be spoken as the gap that once seemed so wide, slowly closes.

Eyes slowly closing, hearts slowly syncing, as passion, inexperience, love danced between pressed lips. His lips tremble and his body is stiff, following only instinct to kiss you. Yet his mind wants to retreat, to pull away, yet his hands finds your waist, fingers sinking into covered flesh, a muffled gasp resounding in your throat, burst whatever magical hold you placed over him. He nearly jumps away, his gloves hands slapping over his arms, eyes wide.

You fall into awkward silence.

"So... Um.... Uh.... I forgot what I was suppose to speak to you about....." He struggles to gather his thoughts, mind spinning. His tongue subconsciously running over his lips, he stills a peek at you and you're staring away.

"... At.. at a better time.... I would like—If you would like also—" He can't finish his words as your agree, and he clears his throat, standing up from your bed, and letting out a cough.

"Your room. It's a mess. And quite against the Queen's Rules. So, you should clean it. Yes." He attempts to save face, slowly backing out of your room, dusting off the imaginary dirt, before giving a short nervous bow or sorts and darting out your room. He fingers graze over his lips, a small smile forming.

He'd like to kiss you again.

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cerridwen007 · 6 months

Text

Wrong to want you like I do. Part 1.

Pairing: (No Breakout AU) dbf!Joel Miller and f!reader.

Word count: 1.7k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: You're back in your hometown for the year to earn some cash while you work out what you wanna do with your life. The only problem is its spring; rainy season. And you don’t own a car nor do you know how to drive, so when you get caught in a big storm, you finally end up relying on your dad’s best friend to come and help.

Notes/Warnings: Smut/Fluff, swearing, Joel being a softie sweetheart for reader, oral(m receiving), mention of f masturbation, age gap (reader early 20’s/Joel 56), shy/awkward reader, no y/n.

A/N: Hoping on the dad’s best friend Joel train cause I have been eating those fics up lately, and they are so fricken good. Is this inspired by myself and the fact that I had to walk in the pouring rain to work on the other side of town and just spent the whole time daydreaming that I could have Joel come and pick me up? Maybe? So yes it’s a little self-indulgent cause I just am such a passenger princess, but I would be hella willing to learn to drive if Joel taught me hehe. I plan on making this a slow burn fic series, so let me know if y'all would want more. As always, thank you for any interactions with any of my posts. It's all very much appreciated. I'm also on A03 if you prefer reading on that platform. And my inbox is always open if you wanna chat! Enjoy bebes.

********

“Fuck.”

It was that time of year again where basically every week there was rain and lots of it. Normally you wouldn’t mind the rain, especially if you got to stay at home all day, with a nice cup of tea, reading or watching a movie and letting it lull you to sleep when night fell. But today, where you actually had to go out and walk to work without a car, it made your life a bit difficult.

Your parents had been kind enough to drive you to and from work a lot of the time, to which you generously compensated them for. But on days like this where they were both busy with work, and you didn't really have anyone else to ask for a ride from in your small town, you stubbornly decided to just walk in the pouring rain.

Usually you didn't mind, in fact you kind of enjoyed walking the long distance to work on the other side of town but times like these where the weather was shit, it was a dreadful experience. After you finished getting ready for work, you finally walked out the door and locked up the house.

You sighed as you began to walk down you drive way and down your street, as not only was it raining heavily it was also windy as fuck, so the old umbrella you brought with you to try and protect yourself from the rain was threatening to bust with every swoop of wind that it got caught in. At least you had some music to entertain you, you thought as an old love song played through your earphones. You half-heartedly laughed at yourself, so you didn’t cry with how fucken soaked you were going to be when you got to work, therefore uncomfortable your entire shift.

As you turned onto a busier road, you scowled a little at the drivers going past you in your cars, and as if your sour face triggered one of them, a truck going past suddenly pulled over next to you. Swallowing harshly, unsure of how this interaction was going to go, you warily walked past the truck.

“Need a ride sweetheart?” A deep southern voice calls out.

You turn to get a better look at the source of the voice that called to you, and your shoulders immediately ease up. It was Joel, your dad’s best friend. A grumpy yet giving man who had known you since you were a young kid. And had also secretly been the star in your wet dreams and fantasies since you were old enough to think about those things. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies as he gave you a soft smile and leaned over to open his passenger door. You quickly got in and gave a big sigh of relief to be out of the cold and the rain. He chuckled softly and waited for you to put your seatbelt on.

“Couldn’t catch a ride with Mom or Dad today, honey?” Joel asks, his big brown eyes melting from the inside out.

“Nah, they were both working, so they couldn't run me to work.”

Joel nods and starts up his truck again before driving off in the direction of your work. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you.

“D'ya wanna put your music on sweet girl?” Joel asks after a few minutes.

You blush and look down shyly at your lap from the nickname. Butterflies continue to brew in your stomach.

“Uh you probably won’t like the music I was listening to.” You awkwardly laugh.

“You don’t know that and besides even if it is horrible, I won’t mind one bit cause it’s what ya like.” Joel says, offering you a kind smile.

Your cheeks start to burn, you try and fight off the curve of the smile that threatens to upturn your lips but lose. You eventually pull out your phone and plug it into Joel's soundsystem and play the last song you were listening to.

Both of your eyebrows match each other from curiosity, as a slow melody begins to fill the cabin of the truck.

“When Sunny gets blue, her eyes get grey and cloudy and then the rain begins to fall.”

You look over to Joel's profile, his warm eyes transfixed on the road before him, his lips slightly smirking, a stark contrast to the rest of his overwise, hard exterior. A beat goes by, and you remember that you're starting and should look away.

“Then the rain begins to fall, pitter patter, pitter patter.”

“Didn't pin you for an old school music kinda gal, no offense, darling.”

You softly laugh. “Yeah well I like all kinds of music to be honest, but I just thought I would try and romatisic walking in the pouring rain to work and make it less miserable.”

Joel hums at your answer, seemingly not hating the music and maybe even enjoying the slow tunes. A new song starts playing as you near your work.

“Just a song before I go, to whom it may concern.”

“Mhhmmm good song. Love me some Crosby, Stills, and Nash.”

You smile to yourself thinking how when you first heard this song it reminded you of Joel. Your smile falters when you arrive at work and realise you have to leave Joel.

“Well thank you so much for the ride. Honestly such a life saver.”

“Anytime doll. Have a good shift.”

*********

That whole shift, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Joel, and you kept having to catch yourself, smiling wide to yourself like a dork. Quickly biting your tongue so you wouldn't get weird looks from the grin plastered on your face. Then your mind traveled to other places as you imagined yourself ‘thanking’ Joel for the ride.

“Thank you for the ride, Joel. However can I thank you?”

“Aw you don't need to thank me sugar, just seeing your pretty face is thanks enough.”

Your hands reach over and lightly grip the middle of his thigh, rubbing back and forth. Your eyes glossing over with lust as you glance at him.��

“Are you sure? I could help you with something in return.”

You watch him closely, grinning as his Adam's apple bobs, swallowing thickly. You peer down at his jeans and see his evident excitement growing in his jeans, you bite your lip as you boldly cup him through his denim’s. He begins panting, a growl forming in the back of his throat, both a warning and dare to keep going.

You move so you are more parallel, facing Joel and begin to slowly unzip his jeans. You shuck his jeans halfway down his thighs. Your mouth subconsciously waters, looking at his hefty size straining through his black boxers. You finally reach out and grab him through his boxers. Joel's head falls back against his head rest, a hiss passing through his teeth.

You smile as you take his weeping cock out from its restraints. His girthy size, uncovered elicits a small gasp from you, to which he grins crookedly at. Before you let intimidation get the best of you, you reach out and start stroking his cock, your fingers barely touching where they meet around his width, before your thumb comes to swipe along his slit, shiny with pre-come.

“Don’t tease baby.” he softly growls before repeating it in a softer tone. “ Please don’t tease me baby.”

You look up at him with your doe eyes and mock a frown. Which immediately upturns when your hand quickly fastens it’s strokes, granting a soft moan from Joel's lips. He screws his eyes closed, tightly, relishing in the feel of your soft hands gripping him tightly, milking his pleasure.

The sounds of his growls turned whimpers as you bring him closer to his high spur you on with pure determination. You lower your body till your tongue makes contact with his tip, licking around the salty dark red head. Joel’s body jolts slightly, the muscles in his thighs tensing for a moment. You smile to yourself from how sensitive Joel is as you slip his tip past your lips.

“Fuck…” He quietly whispers.

His chest rises up and down rapidly, and he wills himself to open his eyes so he can see the beauty before him. He swears he nearly comes as he makes eye contact with you, your pretty eyes boring into his own, as you take him deeper into your mouth. His big hand comes up to cup the back of your head, resting gently on your scalp. You moan around him at the sweet, comforting gesture.

You can tell he is holding back the urge to buck his hips and fuck your face, the thought which makes your panties continue to grow wetter. But for now you're glad he is letting you take control, letting you thank him. You grip his length a big tighter and stroke what can’t fit into your mouth faster, letting your head lower till his tip touches the back of your throat. You try to fight back the tears that threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes.

He mutters curse words softly to himself, trying to fight off his nearing orgasm, wanting to feel you hot, wet, perfect mouth around him long as possible, a feeling he could easily get used to, get addicted to. His thumb comes to brush away a stray tear that falls down your blushed cheeks.

“Fuck…Fuck look so pretty like this darling…taking my fat cock down your throat.”

You can tell he is teetering on the edge as usually quiet Joel is replaced by the Joel who speaks filthy words endlessly into the air.

“Fuck your such a good girl, sucking my cock so damn good for me.”

“You're too good at that sweetheart, sucking the goddamn soul out of me.”

You moan around his cock at his praise, your other hand reaches down to play with his balls.

The combined stimulation is enough to send him over the edge. Joel pants, whines and moans as you work him through his high, eventually pulling away when he hisses from oversensitivity.

Your daydreams are caught short when your boss calls out to you, telling you to go down to storage and get something. You literally shake your head trying to get rid of the dirty fantasies that stain your mind. God forbid anyone could read your mind.

You try and stop thinking about Joel the rest of the shift to which you surprisingly succeed. You do end up with your hand down your pyjama shorts later that night, softly mewing out Joel's name into the quiet late night. Oh how you couldn't wait for another rainy day.

******

#pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #the last of us #tlou smut #the last of us hbo #joel x reader #joel the last of us

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melloianv2 · 12 days

Text

Genovese (Fake Peppino)

Go ahead look over to Dr Abe's Laboratory post if new or need refresher: link

and this

Guess am back with Dr Abe's laboratory

Wait a minute..., a new logo? why its pink? Well...this is afterlab. Am going to talk about it if I have to time too.

But in a short description: events that happened after the laboratory is destroyed. Its pink because it something to do with Abette. So this only content that only happens after the lab is gone, reduced to atoms.

Btw I named it Abe's Afterlab instead of Dr Abe's Afterlab, which I have done deliberately.

I'll still talk about the regular Dr Abe's Lab since am not finish obviously lol.

Back then...

(he can mimic others voices though, that is a way of talking...)

(i didn't mentioned he's 1 and play with toys because i wanted to look very cool back then /hj)

Back to afterlab:

There's two sections of Genovese, Sweet and Cruel.

We going talk about Sweet first since its the longest so..

Sweet

(It moves like hair though, weird. Due to error with his chromosome, he ended up have a limb hair instead of hair strings...)

(the hair string can move. But can he feel things like his arms? depends. He only use his hair string limb if he needed too.)

Origins

(it influence from other people and how he became himself.)

(btw am not going explain the actual event until the real post of afterlab comes sorry)

just sneaking this post here

Relations

(Genovese loves Peppino because he made in way to loves who ever he's loyal too.)

(Peppino had a hard to caring about Genovese, since he thought it weird to care about your own clone..)

(he is scared of him too btw, only when he's not in his dr abe persona...[we'll talk about that if i can])

Back to Sweet

(why did i make genovese 5 year old? because I can)

(jokes aside, because Dr Abe just got Peppino's DNA before he kidnapped him. So which is why he's quite young.)

(another flaw is he's native but he's not stupid. However he's not native to violence, swearing, drugs, alcohol, weapons like...at all (and cannib-) . He knows that stuff very well.)

Anyway now we at Cruel, its very short

Cruel

Extra

Genovese more likely insult someone if he's annoyed

Genovese's current clothing is actual clothing, and not something he shapeshifted in. Simply to blend in of course.

Genovese can fly when he shapeshifts something that is able to make him fly, however he gets tired very fast doing so.

Genovese used to not have an cruel side. back in 2021 during this au was developing.., he used to be fully pacifist and kindhearted. This was changed because due to nowadays. I decided to make him more half good now. Though, i think it fits better being half because I think it be better for him to struggle trying to be good (after being brainwashed for so long) instead of already being good.

Despite trying to be different from Peppino, He still have an habit of copying off what Peppino's wearing sometimes.

When Genovese doesn't want to play, he watch something on tv instead

Genovese is not allowed to use an stove or oven. Nor is he allowed to use a gun despite trying to use one.

Whenever Genovese is hanging out with someone without Peppino, it gets little embarrassing because he don't even know to use certain things nor when to know what's normal or not in the situation. He's still learning.

The reason why he has his eyes togther instead of being seperated because...

(he got surgery on his face to stop the melting. But the surgeon accidentally made his eyes together..)

Genovese would usually try to reason before attacking.

His tears are acid. touching him awhile crying is dangerous. Though his tears do not have the color of acid, but rather regular tears color

Genovese likes flowers, all flowers.

Genovese know a lot of ways to how to kill some one. Totally not taught to him, absolutely not. Nope.

Immature self is just as smart as mature self, he can catch things like mature self.

I don't know what I expect out of this so...

#pizza tower #pizza tower fake peppino #fake peppino #pizza tower au #peppino spaghetti #peppino #pizza tower peppino #pizza tower the noise #pizzahead #pizza tower pizzahead

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moronkombat · 7 months

Note

Hello hello 👀

Would we possibly get general headcanons for Havik? That man has me in a tight grip and I need anything with him, both sfw and nsfw, pretty please? 🥺

Havik you say? Coming right up. Yessir slurp slurp oh and tw for gore, violence, obsessiveness

SFW

Havik is the type of man to hold intense and long lasting grudges. He will not let them go until he has seen them through. These grudges would naturally extend to the person he finds himself rather attached to. If they have a problem with someone then this problem becomes Havik's too. Does he mind this? No. In fact, he enjoys having the extra excuse at causing more mayhem

Delving more into these fixations of revenge. He's rather sadistic when it comes to executing them but he not so simple to inflict the type physical torture. No no, he goes the full mile. There will be turmoil of every caliber. He destroys everything about that person in a frenzied but planned attack. No other method is accepted by him no matter what you say

Obsession is the very center of Havik's being. Yes, he thrives off the chaos and that need for destroying the social order but he not only thrives off of it, he is consumed by it. I cannot say this enough, if he finds himself interested in you he will not let you go

Why this obsession? Havik comes from the very lowest class and has only witnessed what he precieves as injustice atrocities. He's ruminated and ruminated over them for years so it is only natural for him to obsess over other aspects of his life as well.

It is not that Havik wishes to control his partner. He doesn't seek control, he seeks possession. He wants you and he wants you to want him. He doesn't want his partner to obey him either. He simply wants. All his life there have been no chances at wants, not in his social class. Now, he has that chance and he will not waste it. When he wants something, when he wants someone, he will get it

How does he go about getting what he wants? Through any means necessary. Now, let's say his partner shares Havik's tendencies. He will absolutely love that. There no better chaos to be had than two enjoyers of it creating it. Well, what if you're not similar to him? You will be soon. He will make sure of it. He will show you just how pure the world is when chaos is its master

NSFW

This should go unsaid but I like talking about so I'm gonna say it anyway. Havik is the ultimate sadomasochist. Sex and pain are one in the same. There cannot be one without the other

In the bedroom, expect to be welcomed to a world where pain and pleasure are conjoined in the most wicked but euphoric ways.

There will be blood and it will shared between the two of you. He expects you to inflict pain on him just as he does with you. If he bites you you'll do the same in return. Maybe not right away but it will happen and he waiting for it is almost as good as the feeling of his flesh being torn by your teeth

Havik enjoys the use of anything that will enhance the experience for you. You want ropes? You want chains? He will indulge oh so happily. You'll take turns with your new bindings and the marks they will leave will tell stories you two will look back on fondly.

Speaking of marks, there will be plenty. They are vast bountiful after Havik and his partner have made their mess in the bedroom

Don't think that bedroom is the only place Havik will take part such primal enjoyments. The mark of death and chaos are all he needs to get himself going. A battle is finished? He is jumping at the chance to take you and feast upon you while the dead be your audience

Sex will often last awhile with Havik. He does not prefer quickies. no, he wants to have an entire meal with you. He's not interest in a quick snack of his favorite treat. He is gluttonous and will devour all of it, making sure to take his time so he can savor every single little bit.

Havik is anything but silent when he's with his partner sexually. He would not dare hide the noises you bring from him nor does he want you to hide them from him. If his partner did he'd tease and taunt them "Why do you try to hide your debauchery? Do you think I don't know how you feel?" He'd laugh then and there's another scratch into your thigh, one that burns. "I know because I can feel how tightly you grip my cock when I touch you like this" You know he's right

Words are not used for taunting exclusively. He will beg and plead for more and more. He wants to hear it from you too. Each pull to his skin, each new cut he hums and seethes. Then he chuckles so lowly you can feel the vibrations in his chest. He'll want more and he is sure to tell you and show you

thank you for asking about havik. i can go on for a looooong time about his devious habits because goddd i see him as just sooo nasty and toxic. i can't help it im sorry

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #havik x reader #mk havik #havik #tw: gore #tw: violence

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leclercskiesahead · 7 months

Text

can't say thank you in public

(smut under the cover)

The garage is loud tonight. There is an unmistakable buzz in the air. Spirits are high - Charles can't remember the last time they felt like this.

And it is all thanks to Carlos.

Carlos Sainz, winner of the Singapore Grand Prix. Carlos, who led every lap of the race and has been at the top of all the sessions, even back to Monza. Carlos, the reason why the mechanics and engineers and all the crew got to sing the Italian anthem with pride, under the red and neon lights.

Carlos, who returned from summer break rested and recharged and with a hot new fire in his belly. Not that he ever lacked motivation, but it was like he had unlocked a new part of himself, and his post-summer tan made it look like the fire was glowing within.

Carlos giving the scuderia its first taste of victory.

On paper, it has been a good weekend for the team. P1 and P4 is their best combined result of the season. Charles knows that he himself is feeling more at ease with the car, that he still posted good timings all weekend.

But finishing a position behind where he started is always going to be a let down.

Now that the race and the celebrations are all over, the adrenaline left his body, he can't stop thinking about the pit box, the feeling that he was just sitting there a moment too long. He has since seen the replays, of Hamilton driving past just as his own stop was complete. He can see that objectively, the team could not release him without receiving a penalty. It does not change the sense of helplessness and dread that comes from reliving that moment, nor the thoughts that follow as he tries to manage said emotions.

Maybe there was just enough space in front of Hamilton but they played it safe, maybe he could have followed Carlos more closely in the pit lane, maybe he could have managed their gap better, maybe he could have fought the Mercedes if he also changed his tyres under the virtual safety car, maybe, maybe...

He runs a hand through his damp hair as if it will pull those thoughts out of his head to be discarded. They are useless now. The team will enjoy tonight, bars and parties aplenty, then the focus turns to Suzuka.

24 hours ago, Charles had let himself entertain the thought of going to a party after the race, celebrating a podium. It feels a bit too much now. A nice bar will do, one with good ambience and a view. He is no longer up for a dance floor and flashing lights tonight.

A knock on his door interrupts his packing, and Carlos steps into the room without waiting for an answer. Charles is surprised to see him. Since leaving parc fermé, Carlos has been swept up by the crowd, trophy cradled in his arms. The people all want to see their race winner. Charles only got to see him again at the team photo-taking.

He figures Carlos would have been dragged off to a party by now. Half the garage has left and the rest are chatting about which bar to hit up once they're done.

But Carlos is still here. Changed out of his race suit, but still in team wear. Definitely not on his way to a party yet.

"Ah good, you're still here," Carlos says as he lets himself in and closes the door, muffling the chatter around the motorhome.

Charles stands in greeting. "You too, mate. You are not partying already?"

"Later," Carlos says, taking a step closer. His cap is on backwards. "I haven't got to talk to you yet."

"We talked in the debrief."

Carlos' lips curl into a smile. He is still coming closer.

The drivers' rooms are not that large. Charles hasn't moved, but he thinks if this continues he might be backed up against the wall.

"The strategy for the race," Carlos begins. "Everything we discussed after quali. Everything had to be perfect, and we were."

Perfect for you, Charles thinks. The pit incident with Hamilton is the only blot on the team's overall performance today, and it had not affected Carlos one bit.

(Well okay, it might have been easier for them to manage the race pace through the second stint with two cars in the front, but in the end, Carlos had coped on his own. Incredibly well, as the whole paddock cannot stop talking about his DRS strategy and working with Lando to defend against the Mercedes. It is a devilishly smart plan, Charles must admit, and it doesn't surprise him that it is Carlos of all drivers who came up with it instead of just slamming on the accelerator.)

The stray thought quickly evaporates as Carlos steps into his space. Charles takes a step back. He slides a hand behind him and grazes the wall with his fingertips.

"Thank you for executing everything perfectly," Carlos says. His eyes stare into Charles, large and deep and brown with something burning within.

"A good weekend for the team," Charles breathes. "It all paid off because you got the win"

"Because of you," Carlos insists. His voice sounds deeper than usual. "The plan relied on you, Charles. It would have been harder without you. You executed perfectly."

Carlos has stopped his advance, leaving Charles just a hair's breadth from leaning against the wall. His teammate is shorter and lighter but it feels like he's looming over Charles, wrapping around him and encompassing him from all sides. The feeling is not uncommon with Carlos.

"Are you going out tonight?" Carlos asks. Even in the Singapore heat, Charles can feel the heat of his words as they fan over Charles' skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"No," he exhales. "Just for dinner, then I think I will rest before the flight tomorrow."

"No? Then I only have now to say thank you."

"You - what?" Charles blurts, because Carlos has already delivered all the lines and credit in front of the media. But he doesn't have much time to be confused.

Because Carlos is dropping to his knees in front of Charles and working at the buckle of his pants.

The clasp flies open under deft fingers and Carlos lunges forward as the zipper follows. Charles feels his hot breath through the fabric of his underwear and it might be enough to make him half hard.

Strong hands grip at Charles' waist before Carlos shoves both his pants and underwear down in one move. Charles' dick springs free, and both men groan.

"Carlos..." Charles warns, although his voice sounds more raspy and desperate than he would like.

"So good for me," Carlos coaxes, as he starts to stroke. "So good on track. And off it. So good, Charles."

His large hand wraps around the base Charles' shaft and starts to pump. Charles bites back a moan that threatens to echo around the whole garage. He is getting harder by the second and Carlos is kissing up his thighs, sucking at the juncture of his hip. Those large eyes bat upwards, thick lashes fluttering, watch Charles' reactions. Charles must look like a panting mess, struggling to keep quiet, to meet Carlos' gaze and not throw his head back like a depraved animal. His resolve only lasts so long.

The first wrap of those plush lips around the head of his cock does rip a moan out of Charles. Carlos pulls off, only to reattach his lips to the base, just above his balls, and mouth his way up to the tip, leaving a trail of hot spit along the underside of Charles' length, before taking Charles in his mouth again, going almost halfway down this time.

Carlos' mouth is hot and obscene, like the man himself when they find themselves like this. He is bobbing his head, taking more and more of Charles each time, pausing every now and then to hollow his cheeks and just suck. His tongue is as skilled as his hands on the wheel, steering Charles towards the edge with the way it slides along his slit and swirls around, pressing on the underside of his dick.

Charles rests his head against the wall and takes ragged breaths. His palms are pressed against the plaster, fingers scrabbling for purchase that isn't there. A distant corner of his mind conjures the thought of knocking Carlos' cap off and burying his fingers in his hair. Then he remembers his teammate had gotten it cut anyway. The curls that had been sticking up at Monza a tragic sacrifice for convenience in Singapore.

A chilling sensation hits his dick, and Charles' eyes snap open (he didn't even know when they had rolled back and closed.) He whines at the realisation that Carlos had pulled off his dick and blown on it.

"I want to see you," his teammate growls. He meets Charles' eyes with his own, those large eyes, so deep and dark that Charles feels like he is falling into his gaze, and maintains the eye contact as he slowly lowers his mouth over Charles' dick again.

This time, he bottoms out, and Charles almost cries out at the sight. All his nerves are on fire, and the sight of Carlos staring up at him from down there is nearly too much. The other starts moving again, drawing obscene sounds from Charles every time his lips meet the base of his shaft.

He feels his brows pinch as he fights to keep his eyes open, through all the moans and whines that wreck him. Carlos gags and grunts but does not look away. Sweat beads at Charles' hairline, not from the weather, and eventually drip into his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision. He can still see the depths of Carlos' pupils blown wide, keeping Charles magnetised. He cannot break away.

Charles' thighs are quivering from trying to keep himself still. He might collapse at any given moment. Carlos' hands rest at the top of his thighs, right over his underwear line, simply resting without any pressure. But they might as well be pinning Charles against the wall, because the sensation of them, large, hot hands, burning into his skin, is keeping Charles from bucking into Carlos' mouth. It is crazy how Carlos can hold him in place like this, without even holding him.

Then those hands slide around the back, fingers digging into the flesh of Charles' ass, pulling all of him closer to Carlos' face while simultaneously spreading his thighs further apart. Charles lurches at the sudden shift, sliding deep into Carlos' wanting mouth. He only just registers the clear feeling of his head hitting the back of Carlos' throat before he's gone.

Carlos drinks every bit that Charles gives, like a man at a fountain in the desert. He moves a hand between Charles' legs, behind his balls, and strokes him through the orgasm, milking every drop of come out of him. He slides off slowly once there is no more, holding Charles' by the hips and supporting him as he finally leans back and collapses against the wall, spent.

Charles lets his eyes flutter shut, having long abandoned Carlos' request when his orgasm hit. He feels one last kiss being pressed to his thigh, under the hip bone, before Carlos' hands and lips disappear from his skin.

There is a soft rustling as Carlos stands, a gentle thud as he steps once more into Charles' space, and the brush of his breath over the shell of Charles' ear.

"Good drive today," he says, voice low.

And then he gone, padding out of the room. Charles hears the door slide open and shut, but he can no longer hear the chatter of the engineers downstairs, if they have all left or are simply drowned out by his own desperate breaths and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

#charlos #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #clairwrites

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jasminedragonart · 2 months

Text

My goal for this year is to read more books. There were a lot of books I avoided when I was younger just because I thought they weren't for me. I'm starting to realise that a lot of books are and it just wasn't time for me to read them yet. Others I've found are as badly written as I thought they would be and it makes me question why I want to read books by author's I haven't read from before.

Anyway, so far the books I've read that I've enjoyed are:

The Wheel of Time: Books 1 and 2. I have book 3 and plan to read it, however I fond out that this is an unfinished series since the author died. While it is technically finished, it was finished by Brandon Sanderson and while I have his books on my reading list, I don't think reading without Robert Jordan's penmanship will really bring justice to the world I've invested in. THAT BEING SAID, the first two books are SO good. I picked this book up by chance when I was away last year and put it back because the blurb was the vaguest thing I've ever seen. Except, then it haunted me once I heard there was a TV show. I haven't watched it, nor do I plan to since they seemed to have taken it in a different direction. But if you're looking for a good fantasy series to read, even if it's just the first few books, this one hasn't let me down yet.

The Raven Boys: I haven't finished this one yet but the book is good so far. I have the other 3 on the way that's how invested in this series I am right now. I've read other works by this author before, the Shiver one, and while I don't remember hating it I don't remember liking that one much. This book is good though. I'm enjoying it.

The Neverending Story: This one I enjoyed reading but I found that it's definitely a children's book. I picked it up in the hopes to read this to my niece when she's a little older. I thought it wouldn't be until she was around 10 before I could read this with her, but I'm happy that it's simple enough that I'll be able to read it to her maybe when she's around 3-7 Not too scary, not too detailed and while the movie is phenomenal, I really enjoyed this book as well.

The Folk of the Air series: I read them all. There were things in this I enjoyed. I liked the world building of the faerie realm. I also enjoyed some of the politics. But the book had its faults too. It's very teenager-ish. Which isn't inherently bad. The Raven Boys is proving to be better at it though. Jude and Cardan were... at times hard to read. It was quite predictable at times and it's not the best enemies to lovers book out there but I managed to finish it and I did enjoy it. It's something I would recommend to people, but not something I would rave about like I would the Wheel of Time.

I'm looking for other books to read after this. So far my list is:

The rest of the Raven Cycle (3 books) The Way of Kings series (These are so long and there's like 4 books) The Wheel of Time (Book 3 and maybe 4) God of War Inkheart

If there's anything else you would recommend let me know. If anyone has read any Robin Hobb books let me know if they're any good, I'm looking for a good fantasy series.

Also also if anyone knows if someone has written a Davy Jones and Calypso book let me know. I wish Disney had decided to do a prequel on them or at least release a book but I have yet to find one.

#books #book recommendations

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thegayhimbo · 5 days

Text

Ranking The Stranger Things Tie-Ins:

Now that I've finished the reviews (for the time being), I wanted to do a ranking of all the tie-in comics, graphic novels, and books. Originally, I was just going to do a Top 5 Best and Worst List, but I figured it would be more fun to make a complete list of all the tie-ins while also giving my brief thoughts on each one (especially for those who don't want to read my lengthy reviews). Please note this is all in good fun and just my personal opinion, which can be subjected to change.

Also, this list will NOT include any of the show's episodes, video games, tabletop games, children's tie-in books, the Choose Your Own Adventure book, the Stranger Things Experience, or the stage play The First Shadow.

With that out of the way, let's begin in order from Worst to Best:

#26: Stranger Things Summer Special (See Review Here)

I never cared for Powell and Callahan as characters. They barely have anything to do with the show's main arc, they're NOT funny, and the "bumbling cop" trope is something I've grown tired of in recent years.

The premise of this short, where both of them are conveniently present at key events during season 3 in their lousy pursuit of being "good cops," all the while having constant near-misses with the Upside Down, the Flayed, and the Meat Flayer, is a repetitive joke that quickly grows old. That's not even getting into the huge continuity errors plaguing the short and creating a bunch of plot-holes. Completely unnecessary. Hard pass.

#25: Stranger Things The Bully (See Review Here)

This only ranks slightly higher than Summer Special because I like the artwork better, and it doesn't mess up the show's continuity like the previous comic did. However, that's all this really has going for it.

For whatever reason, they decided to make an entire graphic novel focusing on Troy and James (the bullies from season 1), and all I could think about while reading it is "This is a huge waste of time." I already didn't like Troy to begin with, this comic does NOTHING to improve my opinion of him, and considering that neither James nor Troy have appeared on the show since (and probably aren't coming back for season 5), I don't see what the point of this story was. This paragraph from my review sums it up best:

#24: Stranger Things x TMNT Crossover (See Review Here)

I'm sure there are fans who enjoyed this bizarre trip while embracing its absurdness and surrealism, but I am not one of them. I like TMNT and I like Stranger Things, but I draw the line at saying both properties exist in the same universe. That's not even getting into the haphazard attempts by the writers to make this comic canon with the show. Knowing the Duffer Brothers, that's likely not going to happen.

#23: Stranger Things Tales From Hawkins (See Review Here)

The idea of doing an anthology comic focusing on Hawkins residents was intriguing, but the end result was disappointing. They should have broadened their horizons regarding which characters to focus on, and not just set the stories exclusively in the first 2 seasons.

Murray's story (Issue #2) and the Pumpkin Patch Rivalry (Issue #4) are arguably the best ones. The rest are either forgettable or derivative.

#22: Stranger Things Six (See Review Here)

My first venture into Stranger Things comics. I've come a long way since then! :)

I remember looking forward to this particular comic to learn more about Hawkins Lab, Dr. Brenner, Project MKUltra, and the special kids............only to feel underwhelmed when I actually read it. I wanted to like Francine/Six, but I didn't find her interesting or compelling as a character, and the attempts to include other aspects of the show's lore (i.e. The Upside Down, Terry Ives, El and Kali, etc) felt shoehorned. Combined with the direction season 4 went, and it's a safe bet to say this comic is NOT canon (if it ever was).

#21: Stranger Things Suspicious Minds (See Review Here)

Suspicious Minds ranks slightly higher that Six for doing a better job fleshing out the experiments that were taking place at Hawkins Lab, as well as giving more details about Kali, Terry Ives, the test subjects, and El's biological father Andrew. It helps that Brenner is a threatening presence in this book, and that the narrative excels in maintaining suspense.

However, similar to Six, the events of season 4 render most of this book non-canon. That's not even getting into a major continuity error regarding El's date of birth that sticks out like a sore thumb.

Suspicious Minds serves as a cautionary reminder that if you're a creator and you've planned out a major twist for your show, then you either need to have a direct hands-on approach to how tie-ins are written and approved, or you need to be willing to share that twist with those you've hired to write tie-ins for the universe you're managing.

In any case, it is PAINFULLY CLEAR the Duffer Brothers didn't share information about Henry/One/Vecna with Gwenda Bond when she worte this book (or Paul Dichter for that matter when he helped oversee its development), and boy does it show in the final product. 😖

#20: Stranger Things Kamchatka (See Review Here)

Another example of a comic where the premise sounds intriguing, but they squander it on characters who aren't going to play a role on the show while also giving very little (and in some cases, contradictory) information about the show's lore.

While I liked the darker tone, the Cold War setting, and the spy thriller aspects, the characters didn't do much to impress me, and I was also frustrated by the lack of canon characters (Hopper, Dmitiri, Yuri, etc) who could have been in this comic and weren't. It's not bad, but it is mediocre when it didn't need to be.

#19: Stranger Things Into The Fire (See Review Here)

A sequel that improves on its predecessor (Stranger Things Six). While the comic likely isn't canon for the same reasons Six isn't, I appreciated the personal stakes this time around, I loved the creepy gothic aesthetic they did with Jamie/Nine's hallucinations, and it was nice to see Kali utilized in this story in a meaningful way. Here's hoping the Duffer Brothers wise up and bring Kali back for season 5 because she deserves so much better!

#18: Stranger Things Creature Feature (See Review Here)

One aspect of Season 4 that was disappointing was how little we got to see of the family dynamic with El and the Byers once they moved. It's hinted at, but not explored deeply. Creature Feature dives a little more into that, as well as El's struggles with PTSD, and gives a nice heartwarming scene between El, Jonathan, and Will towards the end that makes the short stand out.

However, the one-shot comic is sadly brief, and it may leave people frustrated about why they didn't go for a longer comic/graphic novel about El and the Byers adjusting to life in Lenora. I would've been interested in seeing that!

#17: Stranger Things The Game Master (See Review Here)

A one-shot comic where we get to see Steve and Nancy back together after the events of season 1 while also getting a surprisingly sweet interaction between Steve and Mike that isn't them griping with one another. I don't care much for Steve and Nancy's relationship, but I did like their attempts to help Mike feel better after El's apparent death. That was enough to elevate this short.

#16: Stranger Things Erica's Quest (See Review Here)

Not a fan of the artwork, but I was happy to witness the Scoop's Troop back together again. I also love how this short confirms Steve has played D&D before, which gives context to that scene in S4 when Dustin calls Steve asking him to be a substitute player in Eddie's D&D campaign.

#15: Stranger Things The Voyage (See Review Here)

Major improvement on Stranger Things Kamchatka. It's highly doubtful the show will include any mention of this comic (though if the Duffer Brothers decide to bring back the Russian arc for S5, I hope they incorporate Dr. Karine as the main antagonist), but the story is scary, suspenseful, and has the kind of gruesomeness you'd expect from an R-Rated horror film.

#14: Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (See Reviews Here)

Having grown up reading a lot of murder mysteries, I have a soft spot for the genre. Hearing that Hopper's backstory involved him tracking down a deranged serial killer in New York City back in the 70s while also dealing with a dangerous cult was enough to get me on board with this book.

This novel isn't perfect, but it makes up for its shortcomings in creative ways. Hopper's backstory with the NYPD is fascinating, the story's focus on issues related to poverty, crime, mental health, law enforcement, and societal woes works well (even if they drop the ball towards the end), Hopper's interactions with El in the present are a highlight, and the narrative is effective in keeping the reader invested.

#13: Stranger Things Erica The Great (See Review Here)

A light-hearted graphic novel that bridges Erica's arc between seasons 3 and 4 while expanding on her growth as a character and development as a D&D play. It was cool seeing Erica's friends get their day in the limelight (one of whom might be making an appearance in S5), and the story has enough funny moments to keep the reader entertained.

#12: Stranger Things Flight Of Icarus (See Review Here)

I know fan reaction towards this book was cold when it was first announced, and I'll admit parts of it were hard to read given we all know how Eddie's story ends. I'm not a fan of media that teases false hope to the audience, only to cruelly yank it away.

That being said, I will go to bat for this book: It's well-written, and does a good job expanding on Eddie's character and his relationships with others (Wayne, Al Munson, Jason, etc). I also appreciate the book's themes regarding "forced conformity," and its scathing criticisms towards individuals and institutions (school teachers, law enforcement, students, residents, etc) who scapegoat and punish people like Eddie for existing while allowing (or in some cases, enabling) truly vile people to get away with being vicious and cruel towards "acceptable targets."

Considering how certain individuals on Tumblr and varying social media platforms have been treating others for the past few months, this book couldn't have come during a more relevant time.

#11: Stranger Things Halloween Special (See Review Here)

A delightful Halloween comic taking place before season 1 which centers around the Party telling an urban legend about the Child Eater of Hawkins, which coincidentally has eerie parallels to Vecna. Creepy artwork, an unsettling atmosphere, and a fun twist at the end! :)

#10: Stranger Things Hawkins Horrors (See Review Here)

Same deal as the Halloween Special, except it takes place between Seasons 3 and 4, and features multiple horror stories told by Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Mike while they're all trapped in the Video Store during a power outage. The stories are scary and reminiscent of horror anthologies like Tales from the Crypt and Goosebumps, and some of them even cheekily foreshadow certain events that occur in season 4.

#9: Stranger Things Runaway Max (See Reviews Here)

Like Flight of Icarus, this book is hard to read, albeit for a different reason: I don't enjoy stories with characters trapped in abusive situations, and this book does not pull its punches in depicting the utter hell Max suffered through living with both Neil and Billy.

That being said, I grew to have a new appreciation for Max's character because of this book, and I liked seeing her backstory, her perspective on the events of season 2, and her thoughts about the characters she interacts with. I loved seeing her relationship with Lucas develop, I liked her brief interactions with Steve, and there was a satisfying payoff in her standing up to Billy and finally regaining some control over her life. If you love Max's character, this book is for you!

#8: Stranger Things Winter Special (See Review Here)

The closest Stranger Things will ever have for a Christmas Special (not counting the endings of the first two season finales). So many little details (i.e. the way the Party explains different Christmas stories to El and how she visualizes them, the revelation about what happened to the demodog in Joyce's fridge, etc) that make this an enjoyable read.

#7: Stranger Things Lucas On The Line (See Review Here)

One thing I will say for the tie-ins is that I appreciate how they expand the perspectives of characters from the show. Such is the case with Lucas on the Line. It takes place between seasons 3 and 4, and explores Lucas's attempts to come to terms with his trauma, the growing rift between himself and Max, his attempts to balance his strained relationships with his friends and his desire to play basketball and break out of the "nerd" stereotype, and it gives a very brutal but effective portrait of what it's like for Lucas to be one of the few black kids in Hawkins constantly surrounded by people who are either outwardly racist or project their biases and prejudices in truly insidious ways.

There are two reasons I'm not ranking this novel as highly even though it's a fan-favorite: 1.) There are continuity errors that took me out of certain moments while reading it, and 2.) The third act (which is when S4 begins) does a clumsy job tying in with the rest of the book and its themes. I really wish the book had continued with Lucas's story up to the end of S4 instead of stopping halfway through.

#6: Stranger Things The Other Side (See Review Here)

I always wanted to know what was going on with Will in season 1 when he was taken to the Upside Down. This comic thankfully elaborates on that and doesn't disappoint. Will's journey to survive is both intense and terrifying, and the way the comic seamlessly connects itself with the events of season 1 is to be applauded.

I have no clue what the Duffer Brothers plan to reveal in season 5 about the Upside Down and why time froze in 1983 when Will was taken, but considering they talked with the writers and artists for this comic and gave their stamp of approval, I'm hopeful the events of The Other Side won't be retconned.

#5: Stranger Things Science Camp (See Review Here)

Who knew that when Dustin went to Science Camp, he walked right into a Friday the 13th movie? 😂

Don't want to spoil too much about this one, but I had a blast reading it. Dustin's perspective is always entertaining, the comic works as a brilliant introduction for Suzie, and the mystery plaguing the camp is genuinely interesting and has a good twist. High recommendation.

#4: Stranger Things Zombie Boys (See Review Here)

I'm still bitter that the character of Joey Kim never made an appearance on the show despite the camaraderie he had with the Party, as well as how he gave the boys some catharsis from all the shit they were put through in season 1.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the premise of the Party making a zombie movie, and I appreciated how it handled the characters' trauma without being patronizing. The artwork was also impressive and beautiful to look at. Here's hoping we get more comics and graphic novels like this in the future!

#3: Stranger Things Tomb Of Ybwen (See Review Here)

At its core, the comic manages to explore an aspect that wasn't given much coverage on the show: Will's reaction to Bob's death and his attempts to come to terms with it. All of which culminates in a quest Will undertakes when he finds a map from Bob that (allegedly) leads to an ancient Viking treasure buried in Hawkins.

I don't want to give too much away in terms of spoilers, but the story is both emotional, sad, and heartwarming, and it does an excellent job reinforcing the friendship between all 4 boys while also demonstrating the impact Bob had on Will's life.

#2: Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons (See Review Here)

Speaking as someone who's occasionally crafted various fantasy scenarios in my head to cope with the stresses of life, this comic was deeply relatable. The show never shied away from emphasizing the importance of D&D to these characters, and this comic expands on that by illustrating why they became interested in D&D in the first place, how they've used D&D to cope with living in Hawkins, how the events of the first 3 seasons factor into how they play D&D, and how the game evolved with them as they continued to get older. It's like the piece of media from your childhood that stays with you as an adult. Arguably the best comic in the series (so far).

#1: Stranger Things Rebel Robin (See Reviews Here)

My favorite book and tie-in of the series. Speaking as someone who's gay, this story spoke to me on a personal level, and there were a lot of parallels I was drawing between Robin's experiences in high school and my own: The fear of being outed and ostracized. The desire to break free and explore the world. Recognizing the injustices that exist in society and wishing you could do something about them. Getting a nasty dose of reality that people you thought you could trust aren't reliable, and may even be more awful than you anticipated. Been there, done that, still dealing with some aspects of it.

It's funny because even if you take out the plot elements relating to the Upside Down, you still get a great coming-of-age story, and one that speaks to many people, LGBT+ or otherwise.

That concludes the ranking and reviews for right now! Thank you again for those who've been reading them! :)

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hatsumaki45 · 6 months

Text

Gaming || JiYoo

Yoohyeon is lying on the bed, on her cell phone screen the PUGB game is about to reach its peak. As she faces the enemy her head is full of insults and her body is tense with adrenaline. Victory is at her fingertips when she suddenly feels the weight of someone else on her. The sweet fragrance gives the pinkHair woman away.

Without a sound, Minji brushes Yoohyeon's hair to the side and tries to leave soft kisses on her neck and shoulder. Desire permeates the air, but Yoohyeon tries to play along, almost ignoring the older woman. Not that that was her intention, nor did she intend for Minji to retaliate in any way for that, she was just too immersed in her goal: the game.

But she should know Minji loved having her undivided attention…. And that she hated it when she didn't.

Her right hand circled Yoohyeon's waist until it completely took over the girth, Minji pressed her to her body from the crotch and the heat that suffocated her now spaced out towards the gamer.

Ignoring her became a challenge from then on.

Minji lowered her hand and slowly started massaging her clitoris over Yoohyeon's pants. At the same time, the kissing became hungry, the older girl's tongue started to work, trying her best not to pull her teeth out so soon. She wanted to let her toy know that she couldn't get her out of her mind, that she would turn her into a mess that day, slowly.

With half her head still in the game, the younger girl spread her knees apart to give him better access, even tilted her head to one side. But her eyes and hands were still playing, and playing well. So much so that she went on to win.

The celebration this time was neither shouting, nor insults, but throwing the cell phone and seeking Minji's lips with need. She didn't get them. Instead she received a hard squeeze on her button, which elicited an ambiguous moan. Was she enjoying it or was it pain she felt? Minji, knowing it was both, continued the massage in the same way, causing the body beneath hers to writhe deliciously.

-Minji…

-Keep playing.

-Y-yes…

Retrieving the cell phone and starting the new game was no longer simple, the hands playing at unbuttoning her pants were more the same ones that seconds later were again teasing her pussy. The same ones that slid down her torso to caress her breasts, enclosing them between forefinger and thumb to twist them and make them hard. Yoohyeon took a deep breath at the first hint of blurriness in her eyes, tried to stay in combat….

But it was difficult as they slid her pants and panties down her thighs.

And it got harder when Minji pulled the lube and the puppy anal plug out of the drawer.

The long fingers stimulating her anus made their way in, slowly stretching her for the toy's arrival. Having Minji's fingers in her ass would always be among her favorite things; long, skillful and veiny, perfect for driving her crazy.

Her vision blurred, she bit her lips and tried to keep playing…. Something in her was ignited by having that extra pressure, by feeling like he was forcing her to play to be fucked. And even though it was a silly beginning, it kept her body's heartbeat at the pace Minji liked: desperate.

Moans began to be heard loudly as a third finger joined in and grew louder as they were replaced by the plug thrusting in and out of her insides.

-My pretty puppy… -Murmured Minji, then placing a choker around her neck and a leash that she hooked to it -Do you like playing like this with mommy? Do you like me using your beautyfull ass?

-Yes… Y-yes… -the tug she received from the collar was a clear sign that it was not yet time to let herself be carried away by the plaser, and that Minji didn't seem to mind that she was already close to the edge.

-"Yes" what?

-Yes I… like uhm~ to play with mommy…. And have her use my ass…. Ahg…

-Good girl. Keep playing.

Minji finished removing her pants, panties and unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing. That disheveled garment was the only thing separating her from total nudity, and although the older woman loved to see her naked, she was making an exception that day. The shirt Yoohyeon was wearing actually belonged to Minji. And what sexier than seeing her with her clothes on?

What sexier than having her in his bed, hot, wet, flushed and moaning with that little voice cracking apart? What sexier than making her drip on his sheets knowing she was dying to be filled?

Though she wanted to keep calm, thinking about such things melted Minji's brain. The slow rhythm was broken by a kiss, hot and fast-paced, where she claimed Yoohyeon's mouth as her own, where she saved the cute gasps the lesser let out as she touched her shamelessly. A slap on the ass before she grabbed her by the ass and turned her around. Another slap on the cheek as soon as they broke away from the kiss.

Yoohyeon clung to Minji's shoulders as the older one filled her neck with hickeys. And she clenched even tighter when the Pinkhair woman's thigh fronted her needy pussy. God knows where the cell phone was at that moment, all the younger one cared about was continuing to get those stimulations, to have JiU's heat on hers, to have her take her and claim her as her…. It was hearing Minji panting over her, it was sensing the unsteady trembling that characterized her before going for more. Harder, faster, intense…. More violent.

Minji entered her tight pussy, wrenched screams from her with her name and helped herself to more as she devoured her breasts, licking and sucking the hard mounds as if being filled by her two holes wasn't enough.

Yoohyeon came without a chance to warn and fell to the mattress in tatters, panting with exhaustion. Minji, on the other hand, slowly slid her hand out and then slipped it into the younger girl's open mouth while forcing the strap in the same direction.

-You better clean him up good, puppy….. Put on a show for me.

And after what was said, Minji straddled Yoohyeon's hips, watching intently as her fingers were assimilated.

#dreamcatcher scenarios #jiyoo #jiu smut #dreamcatcher smut #yoohyeon smut #jiyoo smut

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