#shortest roads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gamebunny-advance · 7 months

Text

NSR Comic Ideas I'll Probably Never Get To

My brain worms often prevent me from doing the things I actually want to do, so here's a list of NSR comic ideas that live in my head that I just can't bring myself to actually draw. These aren't full scripts like I've written in the past, but more like general outlines.

Draw them yourself if you want, but tag/credit me if you do. It'd be fun to see other interpretations of these prompts.

Since they're mostly gag comics, I've split them into "Set-Up" and "Punchline" in-case you want to write your own punchline or don't want to spoil the joke with the misguided hope that I will someday bring these to life. Some also have "Extended" parts which I think functionally don't need to be there, but may add context or additional jokes at the risk of dragging it out.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy them, and hopefully someday I'll be able to make at least 1 or 2 of these real. If there's a particular one you really like, let me know and it might inspire me to actually do it~

Preview:

Game (Neon J. teaches 1010 a new game.)

Clothes (1010 discuss the concept of nudity.)

Simulation (Kliff plays a 1010 dating sim to gather intel.)

Shorts (Tatiana urges DJSS to reconsider wearing shorts to work.)

Singing (Kliff sings to himself in the hideout.)

Chill (Gigi reveals that he has ice powers.)

Wall (Kliff and Tatiana have an argument that turns violent.)

Magazine (Neon J. tries to find the culprit of a smuggling.)

Trade (Kliff makes a trade.)

"Game" (Warning: Violence)

Set-up: Neon J. offers to teach 1010 how to play a new game. They all agree.

Punchline: NJ throws a gun on the table and declares the game is "Russian Roulette."

Extended: The winner turns out to be Blue (as per the chess poll), but he is traumatized by the events. It turns out to be borderline pointless, as the losing 1010s are immediately restored by the factory. The 1010s attack Neon J. in retaliation.

"Clothes" (Warning: Suggestive)

Set-up: Green holds a meeting to discuss if the concept of "nakedness" applies to the 1010's considering that their "clothes" could also be considered "skin." White is annoyed at the prospect of such a pointless discussion, but the others make their cases. Two camps form: team naked (Red and Green), and team not-naked (Blue and Yellow). Team naked believe the skin theory, and team not-naked believe that functionally they can't be naked. Additionally, Blue believes that their clothes are technically made of skin since they're 80% recycled materials.

White refuses to participate to break the tie, so to settle this Green proposes the "underwear test," claiming that if they look more or less naked while wearing underwear will determine if they are functionally naked or not. If they look more naked with underwear, then they weren't naked before because the underwear would draw attention to their nudity. If they look less naked, then they are naked because now they're more covered up. He convinces White to model for them since he hasn't done anything to help move the conversation anywhere (the sooner they settle this, the sooner they can do something else). White agrees and models some underwear, but all the 1010s determine that he just looks stupid.

Punchline: Green bursts out laughing, revealing that this was just a drawn-out revenge plot. White destroys him and their "Days since White has Destroyed Green" board is reset to 0.

"Simulation"

Set-Up: Kliff hobbles into the sewer looking half-dead and is intercepted by Zam, asking what happened to him. Kliff explains that he was doing research for the upcoming 1010 battle. To meet that end, he discovered that they released a dating sim that was supposedly programmed with the 1010 A.I.'s input, so he figured that there might be something useful in it that he could use for a battle strategy.

"Ellie says: Please don't pirate games from independent developers!"

When asked why he didn't just use a guide or play through for his research, he claims that although each 1010 only has 2 routes (good and bad) plus an ultimate ending for playing all routes, the A.I. adapts to the player, so the information would only be useful if he played as though he was Mayday or Zuke.

Punchline: The content of the game was so expansive and the story so moving that he was burnt-out emotionally and mentally. When he recalls the final ending, he starts crying, mimicking Mayday at the end of the 1010 battle.

"Shorts"

Set-Up: DJSS was recently hired onto NSR and has been pulled into a meeting with Tatiana. Tatiana tries to convince DJSS that wearing shorts is inappropriate dress-code, stating that "There are children here." Offended, DJSS starts pointing out the obvious biases in her request, citing that Neon J. doesn't technically wear pants and Eve accidentally interrupts their meeting in her usual outfit. Tatiana acquiesces on this condition, "Don't come crying to me when you come to regret your choices."

Punchline: DJSS leaves the room in a huff, and begins muttering to himself. At that moment, Yinu and Mama are passing by as Yinu points out that DJSS often talks out loud to himself. DJSS and Mama stop to try and make small talk while Yinu zones out of the conversation. She starts looking at DJSS's leg hairs and grabs onto them. DJSS thinks that she's trying to get his attention, but she suddenly yanks them out, causing him to let out a physical scream which bursts out of NSR tower to be seen by the citizens miles away. When we return to NSR tower, DJSS has toppled over from the pain, and Mama lightly scolds Yinu as they walk away from the scene. DJSS manages to pull himself back into Tatiana's office, crying. To which she replies, "What did I just tell you about crying back to me?"

Extended: It is revealed that this is why DJSS wears platform shoes: to keep Yinu from reaching his leg hairs. He also switched to velcro shoes just to be safe.

"Singing"

Set-Up: Kliff is singing Vs. SAYU to himself in the meeting room. He's embarrassed, but can't help himself because the song is too catchy. He at least finds relief that no one can hear him in there but suddenly notices that someone is peeking in through a crack in the door. It's Zam who was secretly recording it on his phone.

"Ellie says: Don't record people without their permission!"

Zam apologizes and slowly closes the door and begins to talk away before Kliff bursts through the door and begins chase. Zam manages to get the phone to Ellie, who gets the phone to Mayday, who is confused about what's happening. Kliff managed to get back to the game room, but he's too late.

Punchline: Mayday plays the video and says, "Wow Kliff... you've got a really good voice." Zam (who is a little beat-up from the chase) agrees and says, "But he never comes out to karaoke with us." Kliff is confused because he thinks the fact that he was singing one of NSR's songs is embarrassing, but Mayday laments that it's a really catchy song, and she does the same thing sometimes.

"Chill"

Set-Up: It's a hot day in B2J's hideout. Mayday laments the heat when Gigi passes by and puts his hand on her forehead. To her surprise and delight, his hand is really cold. She asks him if he was just holding a cold drink, but he reveals that he's half-ice elemental, so he has a naturally low body temperature, explaining that's why he's always bundled up. Mayday asks if she can hug him, since she thinks a frosty hug would be amazing right now. He's a little hesitant but agrees. Mayday feels relieved from the heat, but Gigi starts sensing murderous intent from somewhere. He notices a darkness flowing out from the meeting room and sees Kliff peering out. He urges Mayday to stop, but before she can do anything, Kliff accidentally falls over into the room from leaning on the door.

Punchline: Mayday wonders why this happened and concludes that Kliff must have been jealous. As Kliff tries to say that "it's not what it looks like", Mayday says, "You're jealous that I'm hogging Gigi all to myself. You can have a turn too." Gigi and Kliff internally monologue about how dense she is, but hug each other anyway to keep up appearances.

Extended: As they hug, Kliff realizes that it actually does feel pretty good. And the next shot has Kliff apparently monopolizing Gigi from the others as the latter wonders how they got to this point.

"Wall"

Set-Up: Tatiana and Kliff are arguing about something when Tatiana suddenly slams her fist into the wall, narrowly missing Kliff's head. Flustered, he says, "You can't win by trying to seduce me!" She replies, "This isn't seduction you moron." Before they can do anything else, they both hear a "Ker-thunk!" as Neon J. has situated a table with a sign reading, "Get wall slammed by Tatiana! $5 [Or the rough equivalent in ringgits]" and a small line has already formed. Tatiana questions this as Kliff slips away from the scene. Neon J. declares that he takes any business opportunity he sees. She's about to tell him to stop when the crowd starts looking disappointed.

Punchline: Tatiana begins wall slamming various characters including:

Mayday, who squees about being wall slammed by Kul Fyra.

Eve, who Tataiana tells could just ask her to do this for her.

Kliff again, who wasn't done with their earlier argument and had to pay Neon J. double since he "got the first one free".

Extended: After all the wall slams, Tatiana is exhausted and Neon J. tallies their profits from the day and gives Tatiana her share. It is also revealed that the "table" was actually a 1010 with a board on his back covered by a tablecloth.

"Magazine" (Warning: Suggestive)

Neon J. has called a meeting for the other 1010s to discover which one of them brought a dirty magazine into the house. They ask where he found it, but he claims it doesn't matter and he just wants to know who it belongs to.

Punchline: The 1010s look to each other but remain silent. Neon J. expresses disappointment that they would disobey orders twice, but they claim that they can't determine who it belongs to without more information. Neon J. then correctly deduces that they all own copies of the exact same magazine, just hidden in different places. They are all grounded for 2 weeks.

Extended: In an attempt to make it easier to identify the culprit the next time this was to happen, Neon J. decides to give each 1010 a different fetish, so he can just match the content to the 1010. To his dismay, this just leads to them finding a magazine which miraculously contains all 5 fetishes.

"Trade"

Set-Up: Kliff sits on a bench in front of a fountain. An individual wearing a trench coat and hat obscuring their face sits next to him. Without looking at the individual, Kliff asks, "Do you have it?" They slide him an envelope. Kliff briefly examines the contents (seemingly a document) which can't be seen by the viewer. After tapping them back in, Kliff sets a USB drive on the bench. The individual takes it. "That should patch up most of your vulnerabilities." Kliff says. "Yeah. Most." The individual says with a square text bubble, revealing himself to be Neon J. As Kliff stands up he says, "I need a reason for you to keep coming back, don't I?" Neon J. is left alone holding the drive before squeezing it in frustration and curses under his breath. Kliff makes his way back to the hideout's meeting room where Mayday is waiting with a stern expression. She asks, "Did you get the goods?" Kliff tosses the envelope onto the desk and says, "I always come through, kid." Mayday examines the contents and smiles to herself.

Punchline: It is revealed that the document is a signed pin-up of Kul Fyra which Mayday excitedly hangs up in the room.

#gbunny writes #nsr #no straight roads #game is the shortest one #because that's the only one that i envisioned as a 4-koma #when writing these i realized that i don't utilize zuke as a character that much #i dunno. he's usually the comic relief in-game #but that somehow makes him more boring to write for #his brand of comedy is more of being 'comically serious' while i write from a slightly more absurdist angle #in other words: he's just too smart for me to write for #and he's also too nice for him to be the instigator of conflict #the only role i have for him is the straight-man but most of these didn't need one or had one baked into the story already #there is one mind comic that he plays a more major role in #but that one's a little too spicy (and under developed) for me to put here #to give you a slight idea of the contents: that comic's code-name is 'orientation'

13 notes · View notes

aads22 · 10 months

Text

The best and shortest road towards knowledge of truth is Nature.

#The best and shortest road towards knowledge of truth is Nature.

5 notes · View notes

catastrxblues · 10 months

Text

IM FINALLY HOME THANK GOD

#look #love that my parents are a big fan of road trips #but this has got to be the longest shortest one we’ve ever done #i think i’ve just not been feeling very well #and i ended up just becoming restless and tired #and that traffic was so brutal i was so done #and i kinda want to throw up rn my head is spinning #and my left ear and eye is still hurting #i will be spending all my time in my lovely bed tomorrow #mark my words #nadirants

0 notes

heartpascal · 1 year

Note

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed<;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller father figure #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #tommy miller father figure #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #tlou imagine #tlou angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #heartpascal writes

5K notes · View notes

mistercrowbar · 4 months

Text

Sketchy lineup of origin companion (+Aldiirn) body type headcanons because I really would have like to see more variation in game. And c’mon the guys all dumped Strength they shouldn’t have six pack abs.

Thoughts under the cut!

Lae’zel - her being the shortest mostly because its funny to me. I legitimately did not realise she’s small & thin in game until most of the way through Act 1 because she’s so freaking intimidating. So she’s just like, mini murder machine. Utterly ripped keeping with the in game look for githyanki, trying to keep her shapes sharp and muscle bodies short. No boobs because githyanki lay eggs and honestly I find them weirdly out of place on her body.

Astarion - Slim and svelte, to seduce, not scare. I know canonically Larian said he’s 5’9” but look we need at least ONE guy to be short and it’s going to be Astarion.

Aldiirn - Soft body befitting a soft heart! Also to appear non-threatening. He’s active pre-campaign so the pudge stays consistent until he transforms and tummy hurty. :(

Shadowheart - Bottom heavy with muscle that can still be seen under the fat.

Wyll - gets a pass at having the default figure because he was making a career of the hero hobo thing already. But a bit less defined.

Gale - Good hearty chonk. Fat. Man’s been cooped up for a year, lost his magic (I assume casting costs calories), and has a penchant for wine and cheese. I figure he would slim down a bit due to being more active during the campaign (and certainly the cheeses are less fine on the road) but still remain the heaviest. Not gonna be beholden to if this is act 1 or act 3 tho because I am still learning how to draw fat on guys.

Karlach - BEEF. Gets the Gamagoori treatment where she’s as big as she needs to be to be the biggest in any given frame lmao. Still, keep her muscle shapes on the rounder side (compared to lae’zel especially) because she’s a sweetie.

I didn’t draw the non-origins because HONESTLY I get overwhelmed at the number of companions wheeze but Halsin gets the bear look and is a smidge taller than Gale, Minthara is like a more filled out Lae’zel, and Jaheira and Minsc as they are in game.

#bg3 #sketch #crowbart #c:aldiirn

919 notes · View notes

bambisnc · 2 months

Text

- thinking about road trips where you end up sitting on sungchan's lap because there's just not enough space in the car and your group of friends all pulled straws but you both were the unfortunate ones to have the shortest ones :/

- thinking about him with his arms constantly wrapped around your waist; that's just to ensure you don't uh fall off obviously!! why would he have any other reason to do that haha? wdym he's blushing haha no he's not?!

- thinking about him taking advantage of this position to keep sneaking in kisses here and there when he thinks his other members aren't looking; you're pretty sure that glossy chapstick of his is able to keep your own lips rather well moisturized at this point..

- thinking about him placing his jacket around you when you fall asleep on him - head resting in the crook of his neck as he ever so gently cards his fingers through your hair; his content humming acting perfectly as a soothing lullaby - thinking about him placing his headphones over your ears when you feel a bit overstimulated and cramped due to the excess chaos inside the car and switching on the playlist he made for you

- thinking of him placing one final kiss on your neck as if placing a silent, secret promise into your skin; hey i know it's a bit much right now, but i'm here for you okay? just rest, pretty, we'll be there before you know it. <3

notes : queue (2) idk if i like the repetitive starting thing but i dont have enough brain cells to think about any other sjdkldkjdjsldlsd + [m.list]

568 notes · View notes

m0nsterqzzz · 2 months

Text

Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue

pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader

summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?

a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?

is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.

With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination.

There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.

It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand.

This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.

The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.

“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.

Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.

The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.

Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.

So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.

They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.

“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.

Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.

Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.

“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.

She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”

Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”

“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”

She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”

You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.

“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.

“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.

“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.

“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.”

“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.”

“Always?”

“And forever.”

There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.

“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.

You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.

All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.

“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”

You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.

He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.

The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!”

She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.

“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.

“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.

“CLARISSE LA RUE!”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #fluff #valentines day #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #cats #don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy!#what was that ending?#11 days late lol #valentines gifts #valentines day fic

490 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 4 months

Text

Little black dress- Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661

Based on a request:

hey! just binge read all ur fics and I love them so much😭 saw that your taking requests rn and I had one, reader and ghost had gotten into an argument right before a party and so reader puts on her shortest dress and purposely tries her hardest to make ghost jealous, then gets fucked senseless by ghost when they get back😋 (Dom!ghost, consensual ofc) love your writing ur so creative with it! (just a request you don't have to do it^^)

---- F!Reader, established!relationship, smut, 18+, MDNI, unprotected!sex, dom!Ghost, rough!sex, slapping, choking, jealous!Ghost? ----

It was possibly the worst argument in your relationship so far, he and you saying horrible stuff towards each other and worst of it all is that you both had to attend some stupid party. The drive there was silent and awkward, especially when you wore that tight little black dress. The same one that showed him every beautiful curve of yours, he adjusted himself in the seat, an annoyed sigh as he tried to focus on the road ahead. You, applying that red lipstick and fuck did he need to have your marked lips on him.

The party was shit, he didn't expect more from it but when one song in particular came up, he had to adjust his trousers as he watched you move. That body was graced by the gods, moving your hips, hypnotising him like a siren. His bulge grows bigger by the second, and your cat's eye on him is like prey. He shook his head, Simon knew you well, knew the tricks you did to mess with his head. And fuck you because it was working. There is one thing he loves when in public settings. That being that every guy in the room looks at you, wanting to fuck that cunt of yours but when you sit on Simons's lap, let him kiss your neck or you kiss his neck, he knows every man in that room envies him.

No other man in that crowded space can fuck you, touch you but all they can afford is to imagine you, imagine how tight that cunt of yours is, how your pretty tits bounce when riding, how your moans sound. Simon Riley, a man who knows his pretty toy is for his use, who knows he eats you out, makes you come, scream, whimper and beg to come all over again. "Mate, y'alright?" And suddenly, he is back in that party. He nods, your stare still on him as your body keeps moving, he becomes frustrated, how can a pretty thing like you make him this way? Why can't you just bend over his lap, let his calloused fingers in your cunt, and make every man in that space know you are his slut, no one else's.

And then he saw it, another guy trying to flirt with you. He isn't insecure of himself, very much the opposite but to even think of a man as pathetic and not as strong as he dares to flirt with you? Yeah, not happening on his watch. Simon knows you are loyal, he is secure in your love and knows you don't have eyes for anyone else but him, but it's time Simon shows once and for all that just because you aren't grinding on him at this party doesn't mean you two ended. He gives you that look, motions with one nod for you to come over and with some hesitation you do, "Simon, don't start-" His lips cut you off as he kisses you, his hand possessively on your waist as the other holds you by the back of your neck.

"You're my-..fucking...girl," he reminds you between kisses. Of course, this reminder wasn't really for you, but for those around who think they have any chance with you. As stated before, he isn't insecure, he adores when you wear small dresses, when your curves are for all to view but to not touch, he loves to know that at the end of the day, you go home to him and that no man can change that. Simon encourages you to wear those outfits, he can fight and he can certainly kill for you, so wear that dress, be a slut and wear it because in the end, he belongs to you and you to him. Blood-covered knuckles won't stop the romance you two have.

He grabs your hand, takes you back to the car and drives home. "I didn't get to finish talking with my friends, Si," you look at him and he shakes his head. "Doesn't matter, you can see them tomorrow, if you can walk that is." His hand is on your thigh as he drives. Fingers caressing the softness of your thigh. "I'm sure you can tell them all about how you got a proper fuck, right darling? Since you love to gossip and they too, so, tell them, tell them your boyfriend fucked you and covered your pretty body in his cum."

Once home, he carries you to the bedroom, tearing the dress apart as he nibbles on your neck. His cock was hard, swollen and needy for some attention. You look at him but all he does is turn you around, push you to the bed, and slowly rip your panties, his tongue lapping at your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as moans escaped your lips, you look back and he shakes his head, and slaps your ass. "No no, you don't get the privilege to look at me," he sits up and pushes your face to the mattress. His heavy cock slapping at your cunt before he pushes his tip between your thighs, your cunt already aching for him.

Your hands behind your back, his strong hands holding your wrists as he begins to slowly push himself inside of you. "Oh fuck, lovie, s'tight," he moans and begins to increase his speed. Your cunt spreading for his size, your eyes leaking mascara-stained tears. You begin to moan louder the harder he pounds your sore ass. "Shut the fuck up," he slaps your ass once more, making you let out a whiny moan. One of his hands wraps around your neck, making sure to choke you just hard enough. Your voice is hoarse as you continue to get your tight cunt pounded.

"C'mon, lovie, just take it." He whispers into your ear and begins to leave love bites on your neck. "Si," you cry. His marks beginning to hurt just right. "It's okay, pretty baby, let me just fuck you raw and then let me take care of you, yeah?" Simon whispers. His cock is buried in your sweet pussy, and your back begins to arch the second his hand travels down and slowly rubs your clit. Your moans are loud, and you begin to moan his name, cursing him as you begin to get closer to your orgasm. "Come for me, I know you want to, lovie," Simon taunts, his fingers slow, letting the build-up increase and the second you grew quiet, your cunt clenching around him, he knew you had cummed.

Your whimpers get low as he pulls out, begins to stroke himself and grunts, his cum painting your back. "Oh, that's my girl," he moans, fingertips spreading his seed all over your soft skin, you squirm and he lifts your chin. "Open your mouth," he says and lets you clean his fingers, your tempting stare and the way you make subtle moans what a way to ask him for more. He picks you up and snuggles you under the sheets. "You did such a good job, darling," he smiles, Simon's warm lips meeting your forehead. Your legs still shaking, trying to calm down, ass is so red you wince when he massages your ass. "You'll be okay, I'll take care of you," he whispers and wraps his strong arms around you.

A/N: my brain melted mid way through this so I'm sorry if its shit

Tags:

@liyanahelena @ghostslillady @unicorngirly1 @under-the-dirt @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @iruzias @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @greatstormcat

870 notes · View notes

simplyhughes · 13 days

Text

A Hughes Summer: The Arrival

Synopsis: A Hughes Summer is an ongoing series about a HughesSister!Reader x Connor Bedard! This will follow multiple scenarios of their summer together spent at the infamous Hughes Lake House! If there are any specific scenarios you’d like to see, please let me know! Thanks for reading!

Content Warning: none!

Pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!Reader

Part One

wc: 1k

Navigating dating the best rookie in the league while being surrounded by three brothers, all notable players themselves has been extremely chaotic, to say the least. Hockey has permeated all corners of my life, not that I necessarily mind, but being born into a hockey family has definitely altered my taste in men. Connor, my boyfriend, and my trio of brothers have clashed on the ice before, obscured by layers of gear, battling fiercely for the puck. But today marks the moment of formal introduction, and I can't deny the flutter of nerves within me. My brothers are intense; Quinn has this odd maternal instinct toward me, Jack is just downright wild... and with Luke, I'm actually not too concerned, as long as I keep him supplied with a snack to gnaw on.

As the 2024 hockey season drew to a close, Connor and I made the spontaneous decision to embark on a road trip from Chicago to Michigan, where I planned to introduce him to the beloved Hughes summer lake house tradition. Every summer for as long as I can remember, my family has spent the majority of the summer in Michigan, lounging at the lake house. With every mile closer to our destination, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation mingled with nerves as the moment of collision between my two worlds drew near. Yet, amidst my own jitters, I couldn't help but notice the anxiety radiating from the driver's seat beside me, where Connor sat, his nerves seemingly even more pronounced than mine.

It seemed like he was on a timer; every couple of minutes, he dragged his palms against his thighs, wiping his sweat to keep his grip on the wheel. In between that, he’d run his hands through his hair and check his reflection in the rearview mirror. After watching him do this a few times, I couldn't help but chuckle. Connor glanced over at me before turning back to the road and smiled. “What?” he chuckled back at me.

“You are just cute, that's all,” I replied, still with a smile plastered on my face.

“Oh yeah?”

“For Sure”

The car fell into silence for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, but you couldn't help but feel bad that he was nervous. “Connie, they are gonna love you. I promise.”

“I really hope so, y/n.”

“I know they don't know you yet, but I do know they already admire your skill and drive. But they are gonna love you, promise.”

Connor looked at me, his eyes softened and gave me his signature lopsided smile. I stretched my arm out to the car's console and turned up the radio's volume.

The car rumbled along the graveled, mud-plastered driveway, flanked by towering trees that resembled skyscrapers, the only resemblance to the city we had just departed. Finally, the vehicle came to a halt. Connor shifted the gear to park and wiped his palms once more. He unbuckled his seatbelt, popped the trunk, and went to retrieve some of our luggage from the back. Before handling our belongings, Connor opened my door and offered me a hand. I grasped his hand, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you, Con. Chivalry isn't dead, I suppose. But you gotta do something about the sweat, baby,” I teased.

His eyes rolled, and he bumped me jokingly with his hip. Together, we made our way to the trunk. As I started to gather my things, Connor swiftly snatched the bags from me.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Chivalry,” he smirked.

Connor, busy with all the bags, let out a huff as he unloaded his arms on the front porch. I rammed my finger into the doorbell multiple times, rapid-fire style, just to annoy my brothers.

“HOLY SHIT MAKE IT STOP!” I heard one of my brothers yell, muffled by the walls. The door swung open revealing the shortest of the three brothers. “QUINNIFER!” I shouted, jumping into his arms. “Hey, Peanut!” he shouted back. We shuffled back into the house where I was then greeted by the other two. After almost being squeezed to death, the attention shifted to the awkward blonde standing alongside the bags. I cleared my throat, “Guys, this is Connor!”

“Hey man, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Quinn said, giving him a handshake. Luke followed suit while Jack just stayed back. The middle brother narrowed his eyes, watching his other brothers greet the new guy. “Jack quit being a dickhead and say hello.

“I’m just busting his chops y/n, don't worry,” Jack smirked. “What's up?” He finally spoke, shaking Connor's hand.

“Quinny, can you please handle our bags while I give Connor the grand tour?”

“Whatever, anything for my favorite sibling,” he replied, immediately getting hassled by the other two.

I managed to grab Connor's hand and sneak him around the brawl leading him into the living room. His eyes trailed along the pictures that decorated the mantle; pictures that told the Hughes’ past summers, the quilt that was draped against the couch; the quilt that was ripped and resewn back together, it held too many memories to throw out. He soaked in the room, observing all the details laid before him. I plopped down onto the couch, also soaking everything in. “What do ya think?” I questioned.

“I think that you were adorable,” Connor gushed while picking up a framed picture from almost 14 years ago. He looked it over for another minute, then put it back down in its spot. I smiled watching Connor, seeing him in this house that meant so much to me. He fit in so perfectly, it’s like he's been here all this time. My smile only grew thinking about the events this summer longs to unfold, how this will be his first summer in Michigan with many more to follow.

#luke hughes #jack hughes #simplyhughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #hockey #connor bedard #nhl #njd #blackhawks #connor bedard x reader #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard fluff

204 notes · View notes

questionprompts · 16 days

Text

1. If your OC could live anywhere they wanted, where would they choose?

1a. If their ideal location is not where they currently reside, what is preventing them from moving there? Is it financial, situational, scientifically impossible, etc.?

1b. Have they ever been to this location before? If not, is it a real place they've read about/seen pictures of, or is it a hypothetical place they daydream about?

2. If your OC does not have any particular place in which they'd like to stay, do they prefer life on the road?

2a. If so, is that a lifestyle they currently enjoy, or are they stuck somewhere and wish they could take up traveling?

2b. If not, what is their preferred living situation?

2c. If they travel for work/obligation but don't enjoy it, would they enjoy it more if the traveling was on their own terms or through a different mode of transportation?

2d. When traveling, does your OC have any favorite spots they like to revisit when they can?

3. What mode of travel would/does your OC prefer? (Ex: RV, spaceship, hiking, train, etc.)

3a. How common is it for their setting? How would someone make arrangements to travel by this method (is it expensive, cheap, free, exclusive to a contract, etc.)?

4. How many times, if any, has your OC moved [to live somewhere else]?

4a. What were the circumstances?

4b. What is the longest they have ever lived in the same place? If they have lived in the same place their whole life, how old are they?

4c. If applicable, what is the shortest amount of time they've stayed at a place?

5. When moving or traveling, how many belongings does your OC typically take with them? What do they consider essential?

5a. Who else, if anyone, is with them? Are they agreeable traveling/living companions, or do they not get along? Do they travel together often or rarely?

5b. Who else, if anyone, would your OC prefer to have as a traveling/living companion?

#oc questions #writing prompts #character development #worldbuilding #writeblr #which oc

210 notes · View notes

anisespice · 1 year

Text

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2

one || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D

notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!

notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?

During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings.

The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.

“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”

The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.

Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."

But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"

With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow!"

And then, all was quiet.

The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.

Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"

Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."

"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."

Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."

Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”

“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”

“Not always-”

"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."

"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”

With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…

Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.

‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’

Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.

You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…

“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”

You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.

You confirmed it with your own eyes now.

“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”

“Could what, Sho?”

His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"

"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"

"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.

"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."

Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.

By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.

“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”

Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess.

‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’

You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now.

“Ko, baby, please calm down-”

“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!”

You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today.

Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously.

“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”

Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.

“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?”

He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge.

“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.”

Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.”

“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!”

You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.”

Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise.

Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.

"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."

"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.

"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."

Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.

His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.

"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"

KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored.

Like right now.

The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.

With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."

"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.

"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."

Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”

“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”

“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.

He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.

With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.

@/FckIt22.

After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”

‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’

Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...

He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.

“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”

"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.

The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"

Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.

"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…

He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."

"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.

“Whoa, how much of this is true??”

“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”

“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”

He absolutely took offense to that.

With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.

In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.

He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."

Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.

Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"

"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.

As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”

He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."

Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.

#🍁wasabi #SHES FINALLY HERE #hq #hq!#hq!!#hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq hinata #hq bokuto #hq kuroo #the fuck-it list

2K notes · View notes

ihavethedreamies · 29 days

Text

Watermelon | Mark

Mark Lee - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~1.6k

Pairing: Mark x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Quickie, Sex in the Bathroom, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: You end up making a bit of a mess with the watermelon…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, and this is the second shortest one…sorry.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

It was hot. For you, too hot. And it was just your luck that the boys wanted to dick around outside because the weather was nice. Nice? No, it was hot as balls. While they ran around screaming, playing games and throwing stuff, you sat on a canvas camping chair. Your electric fan's batteries had died so you were futilely fanning yourself with a paper plate. Your thighs were sticking together, and your shorts were no help against the chafing. You shuffled again, grunting in discomfort, adjusting your sunglasses since they had slid down your nose from the sweat. Even in the shade of the tree and a slight breeze, it was still much too hot. Mark had offered to run to the convenience store down the road from your rental house and get something to cool you off. Glancing at your phone for the time, you wondered what the hell was taking so long, you were about to melt away.

"Noona~" Chenle called but you couldn't see him. Finally, he and Mark appeared from around the house as they went to the backyard where the rest of your group was. The second youngest had several bags of snacks, but what really caught your attention was what your boyfriend had in his arms. It was to no one's surprise he had somehow acquired a watermelon.

"Finally!" You exhaled harshly and Chenle dashed over to you, digging a cold bottle of water out and you yoinked it from him eagerly, chugging it down and he laughed.

"Slow done, babe." Mark huffed, letting the watermelon wrapped in a mesh settle on the grass near your feet. He watched as a bit of water slipped past your mouth and down your throat, landing on your white tank top, making the fabric darken. Swallowing, he shook his head to focus his attention elsewhere and kneeled near the melon so he could start cutting it.

"Uh, no." You shook your head, taking the knife from Mark that Renjun had brought out.

"I can do it!" He whined and you gave him a deadpan look and he just grumbled. Mark scooted over and you sat next to him, wrapping your legs around the big fruit to hold it in place. That looked even more dangerous than what he was planning, but you didn't keep it like that for long. Once you had dramatically stabbed the knife into the end of the rind, you adjusted and easily and evenly sliced it in half. Everyone watched in amazement as you deftly cut up the melon, laying each quarter of a slice into the big bowl Renjun had also brought out.

"Wow, she actually cut it evenly." Jaemin pointed out, giving Mark a very pointed look. The eldest looked back at him, slightly confused then offended.

"Hey!" He grumbled again and you grabbed a few slices with Mark and put them on a plate. While the rest of them continued to do whatever nonsense they were doing before, you and your boyfriend sat on the grass under the tree to eat the watermelon. Not thinking anything of it, because who would, you started to eat. It was very juicy, and the man's attention kept going back to your collarbone. After a big bite of the fruit, the juice spilled over your bottom lip and ran down your chin, your throat, pooled on your collar bone, then continued down to run into your cleavage. When you took another bite and even more juice spilled out you cringed, sucking in to try and keep it in your mouth.

"Geez." You mumbled, looking for a paper towel or napkin, something, to dry the juice. The pink liquid was already soaking into the white of your tank and luckily your bra was nude. Not only was your face and chest a mess, but your hands had gotten sticky. Mark watched your tongue lick furiously along your bottom lip, trying to get some of the juice off your chin.

"Let's get you cleaned up." You were shocked at the speed of your boyfriend, who had stood, hauling you up with him, and into the rental house. You both barely slipped your sandals off up entering and you were a bit surprised he dragged you toward the bathroom and not the nearby kitchen to get to a sink.

"Where are we going?" you questioned, blinking in shock as he pulled you into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. As you stood near the vanity, hands in the air to avoid getting things stuck to them, you watched in surprise as he pinned you against the sink, his face getting very close. Even though he was your boyfriend, the proximity and intense look on his face made your own warm up red. His tongue flicked out, lapping at the drying juice on your face that was just as sticky as the stuff on your hands. He groaned as you shivered, his lips sealing over your own. Immediately you forgot about your sticky hands, going to the back of his shirt to hold on as he lifted you to rest on the bathroom vanity. You did at least have the subconscious thought to not touch his hair. His own sticky hands had met your waist, sneaking under your flimsy white tank, running his thumb over your smooth skin, it stuttered a bit from the juice. When his tongue entered your mouth, you both tasted the sweet watermelon on each other. A trail of saliva connected your lips when he finally pulled away, both of you panting.

"Fuck." He loved the dazed look that had spread across your face, and his smirked when his lips met your neck and you whined. His tongue ran along the path he had watched the juice flow over the skin, cleaning you off and at the same time heating your skin and core. Your hips jumped up from the counter, your denim covered mound grinding against his cock tenting his swim trunks. Mark continued to suck and nibble at you as he moved to follow that path of the watermelon juice, before your shirt covered the final destination. He pulled back just enough to get it off of you, the white material sticking briefly to his fingers. Yours stuck even more to his shirt as you hauled it off of him. Mark's mouth and tongue traced and nuzzled your breasts as he got your bra unhooked and off. Using his tongue to follow the trail of juice, he diverted at your sternum, sealing his lips over your nipple. You sighed, resting back on the counter so your bare back touched the cold mirror. As your boyfriend focused on the other side, he helped you wiggle your shorts off. You didn't have any panties on since your shorts were so tight, and it was so hot out anyway.

"Fuck… (Y/N)~" You would never get used to way he would moan your name.

"Mark, hurry." You furrowed your brow in playful frustration, trying to reach the waist band of his swim trunks to get them off. He huffed in amusement, having a better reach to do it himself.

"Hurry, hurry~" You nearly bounced in anticipation and his chuckle turned to a groan as he started to sink his cock inside of you. Your body shivered, your hand went to your mouth to try and muffle the pitiful moan you let out as he bottomed out. Like usual, you were soaked for him, making the entry easy.

"Try and stay quiet, baby." He rested his forehead on your shoulder, hands on your hips. You hiccupped when he gave a short but hard thrust, keeping up that pace, rapidly bringing you close to your orgasm already. His pelvis would grind against your clit every time he filled you fully, and your breath hitched each time. He gave a breathless chuckle at how cute you were, not noticing that his thrusts were strong enough to shake the vanity. The ceramic cup holding some toothbrushes rattled each time, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Damn-" Mark groaned as quietly as he could, pulling your hips to the very edge of the vanity, your back slid down the mirror before landing on the marble. You wrapped your legs around his waist, hand pressed hard over your mouth, the other gripping the bar on the wall that held up the hand towel. Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his smirking bottom lip, enjoying watching you try desperately to stay quiet as he fucked you. He only slightly paused when the cup finally fell over, landing on the tile floor and shattering. It was out of the way, so his hips stuttered a bit, but he continued with a huff when you whined in desperation at the halt.

"Shit, babe-" He groaned, and you moaned as well, feeling your own climax getting closer. You both fell over when he did a final grind against your clit, as deep as he could go, spilling inside of you. The heat of his cum brought you over as well, and you pulled your hand from your mouth, panting quietly.

"S-sorry." Mark suddenly felt guilty for hauling you into the bathroom to fuck while all of your friends were possibly in ear shot.

"Th…that's okay." You gave him a tired smile and he kissed you softly with a giggle. After cleaning up a bit and straightening clothes and hair back up, you slipped back outside, and it seemed like no one had even noticed you two had been gone. Later, when you were inside to eat supper, you heard a loud shout from the bathroom.

"Who broke the toothbrush mug?!"

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

Masterlist

224 notes · View notes

wisteriagoesvroom · 2 months

Text

the sun (in your eyes) ☀️

🍊 a landoscar fic 🌷🏙️ florist!oscar and ad agency!lando au 🖋️ 11.2k words 🔗 read on ao3

written for @maaxverstappen as part of the @f1playlistficexchange

preview:

The two of them stand: one behind the florist counter, endlessly patient. Lando, feeling vaguely warm in the face and wondering why he hadn’t left yet. “Didn’t get your name?” Lando says, hopefully. “Oh. I’m Oscar. Piastri.” Oscar Piastri runs a hand through his hair. “Ah! That explains the pi symbol?” Oscar grins, then. It’s slightly slanted, and his front teeth are slightly too big. The overall effect is very endearing. “Exactly. Anyway. Not sure why I felt the need to give you a last name. But there you go. If you need to like, contact me for legal reasons or whatever, you have that now.” “Thanks. I’m Lando. Er, Norris. I am not currently wanted or convicted of a crime in any country.” “Good… to know.” “The Australian immigration form did ask.” “Once again. Good to know.” “I’ll keep you informed if I do commit a crime. Don’t get caught at the scene, or anything.” Lando winks. “See you ‘round, maybe?” “Sure. Bye, Lando.” “Bye, Oscuh.” Oscar smiles again, dimples showing at the side of his face. Lando tries not to think too much about why it tickles him inside when that happens. On the way back to the office, Lando frantically googles things like shortest lifespan Australian wildflowers and vintage Ducati motorcycle facts and is love at first sight a real phenomenon like actually whatthehell. Then he almost drops his phone on the curb, and has to settle for shoving his phone in his pocket and trying to dodge the mass of cyclists that have inconveniently spawned on the road right for some reason. Very rude of them to do that at rush hour.

150 notes · View notes

idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 9 months

Note

Can you plsss do a Carlos smut 😭 one where you act like a brat all day during quali day and you start to irritate him and by the end of the day he like f@&ks you stupid and tells you how much you’ve embarrassed him even though you didn’t and he slaps chokes and all that (i love how you write smut one shots lol)

Embarrassment - Carlos Sainz

warning - smut, under 18s dni, (light) choking, degradation, denial

Qualifying. Arguably the most important part of a race weekend. Sure, the race itself was important since that's where the points come in, but if you don't have a good qualifying, then you don't have a good race. Quite simple, really.

To be frank, you had wanted Carlos all day, but he wasn't letting you near him, you couldn't even touch him. "Carlos, you have hours until they need you," you whined, pouting at him.

"I don't see your point," he huffed. You had been pestering him for the past two hours since you had been awake, and it was starting to get onto his nerves. "I need you," you said, sauntering up to him and running your hands across his chest.

"Not right now, I need to focus," he dismissed you, walking off into the bathroom. If that was how he was going to be, then fine. He could have it his way. For now.

The car ride to the circuit was the first part of your plan. "Are you in the garage or on the pit wall today?" he asked. You glanced at him, before turning away and training your eyes back on the road. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," he scoffed, knowing he was going to be in for a day of it.

When you arrived, you walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at the fans and reporters. As soon as you got into the garage, you walked away from Carlos, not even looking at him. "I'll see you later!" he called after you, and you could see people giving the two of you skeptical looks.

You made a beeline straight for the bathroom, taking off the jeans and shirt that you had on and replacing it with the shortest dress you could find out of your backpack. It barely covered your ass as you walked around.

You left the bathroom, strutting around like you owned the place. In the corner, you spotted Charles, doing something on his phone. You saw Carlos talking to his engineer, and his eyes swiftly flicked over to you.

"Hey, Charles," you smiled, leaning on the wall next to him and batting your eyelashes at him. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?" he asked, and you watched his eyes briefly skim over your figure. You bit your lip as you looked at him, spotting Carlos' jaw twitch out of the corner of your eye.

As you talked to the man from Monaco, you twirled your hair around your finger and giggled at his jokes. His cheeks flushed red every time, and if you weren't with Carlos, he would be taking you back to his hotel tonight.

"Charles, time to go," Xavi told him, and he looked sad to have to stop the conversation.

"Good luck, Charles. You'll do great, but you always do," you told him, watching as he walked away. "Thanks Y/N," he shouted as he left.

You took your seat with your headphones over your ears. Carlos was sat in his car, already annoyed at you as it was. Now, seeing you sat in the chair with the tiny skirt of your dress riding over your thighs sent him into an angry spiral.

He put his poor performance in FP3 was down to him being distracted by you. God knows who could have been looking at you while he wasn't around. God knows who could have been looking at what was his.

He got out of the car, his team asking what was wrong to warrant a P11 in FP3. It wasn't bad, but not where he should have been. Especially since Charles had come out in P1. "I'll be one second, guys," Carlos said, storming over to where you were talking to Charles.

"Charles, do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" He asked, struggling to hide the fact that he was absolutely livid with you. "Yeah, course," he said, walking away. You touched Charles on the shoulder as a way to say goodbye, before turning your attention to Carlos.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he spat a you, gripping your wrist tightly.

"Why, you like what you see?" you smirked, knowing you had already gotten under his skin.

"No, you're dressed like a stripper," he stated, his nails digging into your skin slightly.

"Aw, is someone just mad because they came 11th and Charles came 1st?" you teased, putting on the baby voice that he hated.

"I was distracted by my girlfriend parading herself around like a slut," he reasoned, running his free hand through his hair.

"Call me that again, I liked it," you told him, watching his face contort into an expression of pure lividness. "Drop the attitude," he commanded, his tone strict and hard. You started to walk away from him as you rolled your eyes, but the grip he had on your wrist was too tight for you to break.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" he asked.

"So what if I did?" you said, getting as close to him as possible so he had to look down on you. "Let's not make that a habit," he said as if you were a five-year-old, letting you go as the team started to go to the debrief before qualifying.

"Behave," he instructed, "And put some clothes on," he finished.

"Yes, sir," you rolled your eyes at him again, and if he wasn't in a garage full of people, he would have bent you over his car and fucked you until you begged him to stop.

He figured the best way to actually perform well in qualifying was to put all of his anger towards you into his driving, and he could put it on the first row. That was exactly what he did. It was a Ferrari 1-2, but he missed out on pole to Charles by 2 thousandths of a second, so there was nothing else he could have done.

When they got out of the car, they were met with the team clapping and smiling for them. As the pair got out of their cars, they were hugged by their mechanics and engineers, glad that they had finally gotten a good result after a while of misfortune.

You walked up to Charles, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. "Well done Charles! We knew you could do it," you squealed as he lifted you in the air and twirled you around.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you in my drivers room," he shouted across the garage, and people could tell something was up. You did as you were told, swaying your hips as you walked.

"What's up?" you asked, innocently.

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you want people to think you're a slut?" he snapped, slamming the door to the room and blocking it off. "Well at least someone might fuck me because of it," you scoffed, rolling your eyes again for good measure.

"Did you not hear me? Or are you that fucking stupid that you don't know what's good for you? Roll your eyes again and I swear to god," he spat, rushing up to you and pinning you against the wall by your neck.

His fingers gently squeezed as he spoke, the lack of oxygen flowing to your brain making you smile goofily. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," you mocked, rolling your eyes in an over exaggerated manner.

"Get on the couch," he commanded, releasing his grip on you and pushing you towards the couch slightly. "Oh so you want me now that you're frustrated?" you queried, adoring how much you had agitated him. "Get on the fucking couch," he spat, and you thought it would be best to listen.

Stepping over to the couch, you sat down, the skirt riding over your thighs and revealing everything to Carlos. "Look at you, all pretty in pink," he smirked as the pink lace that was your last, thin barrier between you and the Spaniard.

You were blushing, looking down at your feet. "Oh, so we're all shy now?" he mocked, keeling down in front of you. "There's no turning back now, bitch," he spat, and you had to admit his attitude was turning you on.

His fingers slithered up the side of your thighs, hooking into the sides of the flimsy material. He pulled them down your legs, slipping them over your heel clad feet and tossing them aside. Without a warning, he hoisted your legs onto either shoulder, gripping them with his hands.

"So fucking pretty," he breathed against your thighs, placing soft kisses as his lips traveled. "It's a shame you're such a brat," he said. He started nipping the skin with his teeth, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.

Finally, you were getting your way, you thought. You had pushed him to the limit, and a day of gallivanting had finally paid off. Every time he lightly sunk his teeth into your skin, it was like a needle stabbing into you with a sharp prick.

"Now I didn't know you were this desperate," he near on mocked, staring at the effect he had on you. Carlos leaned in, licking a thick stripe up your dripping folds. His tongue gently circled your sensitive bundle of nerve endings, the feeling sending volts of electricity pulsing through your body.

The sensation elicited a moan to escaped you lips, when Carlos pulled away. "For once, you need to keep that goddamn mouth of yours shut," he instructed, earning a nod from you. For once, you would actually do as you were told.

Carlos attached his lips back onto you, lapping and sucking at all of the right places. Pressure bubbled in your stomach as you tangled your hands in Carlos' hair. Tugging at the strands, you earned a hum of pleasure from him as he brought you so close to release on his tongue.

"Shit, Carlos, I'm close," you struggled to say, barely able to suppress the moans that had built up in your throat. At your words, he attached his lips around your clit and teased it with his tongue. "Fuck, I-" you fumbled over your words, so close to release.

Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Carlos pulled himself away from you, a devilish grin on his face. "You didn't really expect me to let you cum, did you?" he cockily grinned, pushing his dark locks of hair from his face.

The pressure that had built up slowly, and irritatingly fizzled out, much to your dismay. "Please, Carlos, I'm sorry, I was a bitch," you pleaded, hoping he would crack and give in to your desires, your needs.

"Yes, you were a bitch. A bratty, little, bitch," he seethed, yanking you up off the couch. "Turn around and bend over," he said. You thought if you obeyed his commands that he would let you off.

Before he could let you do as you were told, he slipped your dress over your head in one swift movement.

You turned around and bent over, holding yourself up with your arms on the back of the couch. "Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, and you could tell he was getting a kick out of seeing you in this compromised position, knowing only he could give you what you wanted. "I want-" you started, but you were cut off by him teasing your entrance with his cock.

"What do you want?" he pressed.

"I want you to fuck me," you blurted out, turning over your shoulder to look at him, cocky grin plastered across his face. "God, such a needy slut," he breathed, slipping into you in one movement with ease.

As he started to rock his hips back and forth, the coil in your abdomen started to tighten again, and it was already so close to snapping. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Sauntering around like that all day. Fucking brat," he spat through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

"And flirting with Charles? I knew you were trying to make me mad, but that fucking pissed me off," he rambled, slamming into you harder each time. "You're an embarrassment, you know that? Trying to fuck my friend in front of the whole garage," he seethed, bringing his hand up and swatting your ass.

You yelped, causing him to do it again until the skin started to sting and turn red.

"Tell me you're sorry," he ordered, his hand gliding up your back and clasping around the back of your neck.

"I'm-" you said, but were cut off by the overwhelming pleasure of him squeezing your neck as he picked up his pace. "Tell me you're sorry for being such a fucking slut," he said between thrusts. "I'm sorry," you managed to get out as he squeezed your throat harder.

"Word for word. I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," he repeated, feeling as your walls were clenching around his dick. "I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," you hardly managed to get out as the stimulation became too much - but in the best way possible.

Hot, salty tears slipped down your cheeks as silent moans disguised as sobs escaped your parted lips. "Good, wasn't so hard, was it?" he could feel you were on the brink of coming undone, and so could you. The coil was so tight and so close to snapping. Slowly, you felt light tingles spreading through your body, your legs and arms bucking slightly.

Just as your pleasure was about to hit you like a tsunami, Carlos pulled out, detaching his hand from your neck and pumped himself a few times, spilling himself all over your back. "Carlos, please, fuck," you cried, staring at him through glassy eyes.

He rode out his high, looking at your tear stained, reddened face. "Go ask Charles if you're that desperate," he menacingly chuckled, pulling his underwear and race suit back up his legs to his hips. "Please, Carlos. Just two minutes," you whined, needing the release.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been such a slut for it all day," he demeaned one last time, "You've embarrassed me enough, don't become desperate," before walking out of the room. "Put some clothes on for fucks sake," he doubled back, staring at you, almost in disgust.

If he could, he would have watched you squirm for him all day, but he had a job to do.

A/N - This is my first request, and I hope it was good enough! The third part of 'Baby Fever' is on its way, I promise. It's taking longer than expected. If anyone has any requests in the meantime, you can submit one on my profile. I'm pretty much open to anything!

|masterlist|

725 notes · View notes