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weirdmageddon · 1 year ago

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i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

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goldfades · 1 month ago

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SCREAM QUEENS──NICHOLAS CHAVEZ

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─ summary | after filming Scream with cooper and nicholas, you and nicholas develop a slow-burn romance filled with subtle tension.

─ pairing | nicholas chavez x fem!actress!reader, platonic!cooper koch x fem!actress!reader

─ warnings | sooo sweet and soft!! literally nothing except fluff and a few kisses at the end.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The red carpet glistens under the flashing lights of countless cameras, and the hum of excited voices fills the air like an electric current. The Scream premiere is your first big debut in a film of this scale, and it feels like you're stepping into another world. Your breath catches slightly as you look up at the towering poster of your character, Sydney, splashed across the theater behind you. It’s surreal.

You smooth your dress—a deep, rich burgundy that makes you feel powerful, but in a quiet way, like you're not here to scream but to be heard when it matters. A few feet away, Nicholas stands in his sleek suit, posture rigid yet calm, looking every bit like he belongs. Stoic, as always. But there’s something in the way his eyes shift toward you when he thinks no one’s watching—a softness, a quiet admiration hidden behind his mask of indifference.

Next to him, Cooper is an absolute ball of energy, talking animatedly with an interviewer, his hands gesturing wildly as he laughs, completely unrecognizable from the unnerving, cold-blooded Stu he portrayed in the movie. His warmth is contagious, and you can’t help but smile, even though you’re more used to blending into the background at events like these. Still, this is your night too.

The interviewer finally reaches you, and your stomach flutters—not from nerves, but from the anticipation of sharing this moment. "How does it feel to be a part of such an iconic horror franchise?" they ask, their microphone hovering in front of you.

You glance at Nicholas briefly, his lips curling into the tiniest of smiles as if he’s silently encouraging you to take the lead. The smallest gesture, but you catch it. You always do. You gather your thoughts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in.

"It’s… unreal," you start softly, your voice measured. "Scream changed the game, and being a part of that—it's hard to describe. It’s like stepping into a legacy, but also bringing something new."

You pause for a second, letting the weight of your words settle, and then continue. “It’s not just about stepping into Sydney’s shoes—it’s about understanding her fear, her resilience. Horror is… more than just jumpscares. It’s psychological, it’s emotional. It’s about survival, and I think that’s what makes Scream different.”

As you speak, you feel the lights and the noise around you blur into the background. Your focus is on the moment, on articulating what’s been buzzing in your mind ever since you landed the role. Sydney was never just a scream queen—she was a fighter, an anchor in the madness, and playing her was like learning how to channel that same strength in yourself.

The interviewer nods, visibly impressed, and moves on to Nicholas. You shift slightly, glancing at him as he takes a steady breath. His expression is the perfect picture of composure, but you can tell from the slight twitch of his fingers that he’s thoughtful about what to say.

“Well, Billy’s not exactly the hero,” Nicholas begins, a small chuckle escaping his lips, eyes narrowing with that subtle sharpness that made him perfect for the role. “But I think what’s interesting about him—and about the film as a whole—is the way it plays with the audience’s expectations. Horror has always been about tension, about twisting what you think you know. Scream does that, but on a deeper level. Billy’s... manipulative, sure, but there’s a layer of humanity there, buried under all that chaos. And that’s what makes him so terrifying. You don’t just hate him—you understand him.”

He doesn’t say much, but his words settle like a weight in the air, his voice low and reflective. You’ve always admired that about him, the way he can strip away all the noise and say something that matters, something you’ll still be thinking about long after the conversation ends.

And then, of course, there’s Cooper.

The moment Nicholas finishes, Cooper bounds into the spotlight, his energy bright and overwhelming, making everyone laugh before he’s even answered the question. “Oh man, playing Stu was wild,” he says, shaking his head with a grin that’s far too friendly for someone who spent the entire movie butchering people. “I had to turn off my brain to even think like him. I’m pretty much the opposite in real life, so going to that dark place took some effort.”

He laughs again, carefree, but you’ve seen it—the way he can flip a switch when the cameras roll. One moment, he’s this ball of sunshine, cracking jokes and keeping the mood light, and the next, his eyes go cold, his smile sinister. It’s what made his portrayal of Stu so chilling, so disturbingly real.

“But honestly, I think the best part was working with these two,” Cooper continues, throwing an arm around both you and Nicholas in one smooth motion. “We were like family on set. Every scene, every rehearsal, we got closer. There’s this... chemistry we developed that I think really translates on screen.”

You feel a flush of warmth at his words. Cooper’s enthusiasm has always been infectious, and you can’t help but nod in agreement, even if you’re not as loud about it as he is. The connection between the three of you—Nicholas, Cooper, and you—had been undeniable, a sort of unspoken understanding that had only grown stronger as filming went on.

The interviewer seizes on that. “It sounds like you all bonded a lot on set. Can you talk more about your dynamic? What was it like working together?”

You’re about to respond, but Cooper jumps in first, unable to help himself. “Oh, totally! It was a blast. I mean, there were some intense scenes, obviously—especially for Nick and her,” he says, nodding at you. “But between takes? We’d be laughing, hanging out, keeping it light. It’s the only way to survive a horror film without going crazy yourself, right?”

Nicholas smirks, leaning into the moment with his usual understated charm. “Yeah, Cooper’s energy definitely kept things interesting.” There’s that subtle warmth again in his tone, a softness in the way he talks about you both. “I think we balanced each other out in a lot of ways. You”—he nods toward you again—"you brought this quiet focus, and I think it rubbed off on me. It’s easy to get lost in a role like Billy, but watching you... I learned how to ground myself.”

The compliment, though wrapped in his usual casual delivery, sends a faint flush up your neck. Nicholas had never been one for big declarations, but when he did speak, it was always with meaning, as if he had chosen each word carefully, deliberately.

You find your voice again, wanting to contribute before the moment passes. “I think we each brought something different to the table,” you add softly, your gaze flicking between them. “Cooper has this incredible energy that keeps everything light, but he can flip a switch when it’s time to get serious. And Nicholas...” You pause, considering. “He’s... steady. There’s this calmness about him that keeps you anchored, even when the scenes get intense. It’s hard to explain, but it made working with him feel... safe.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something in Nicholas’s eyes—a glimmer of appreciation, though it’s fleeting, quickly hidden behind his usual cool demeanor. But you catch it. You always do.

The interviewer, sensing the dynamic between the three of you, smiles warmly. “It sounds like you all formed a pretty tight-knit group. That’s rare in an industry like this.”

Cooper nods enthusiastically. “Oh, for sure. We’re stuck with each other now,” he jokes, but the sincerity behind his words is unmistakable. “I mean, how could we not? We’ve been through the trenches together.”

You smile, unable to suppress the warmth that floods through you. He’s right. Despite the long nights, the emotionally draining scenes, and the weight of stepping into such iconic roles, the bond you’ve formed with these two has been something special—something real.

As the interview wraps up, you take a step back, letting Cooper and Nicholas finish with their final thoughts. The night isn’t over yet—the premiere still looms ahead, and there are more cameras, more questions waiting. But for a moment, in the midst of the chaos, you feel a deep sense of gratitude. For the film, for this experience, but mostly for them.

For the way Nicholas’s steady presence has become a quiet comfort, his admiration for you evident in the smallest of gestures. For the way Cooper’s energy has pulled you out of your shell, making you laugh, making the hard days bearable.

And as you glance at them both, standing under the glow of the premiere lights, you can’t help but feel like something has shifted. Something subtle, yet undeniable.

───

“—that is not what happened, and you know it.” Cooper sighed dramatically as he glanced your direction, a mock upset settled on his face as you bite your lip, stifling a laugh. Nicholas watches the two of you, amusement clear in his expression.

You settle into the couch as you shrug, letting a small laugh escape your lips. "Okay, fine," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Maybe I don't remember it exactly the way you do, but come on, Cooper, you were the one who started it."

Cooper gasps, clutching his chest dramatically like he’s been mortally wounded. "I started it? Oh no, no. Let’s be real here. You and Nicholas were the ones conspiring against me from day one!"

Nicholas raises an eyebrow, a quiet smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Conspiring? That’s a bit dramatic, Coop.”

The host of the podcast, a friendly guy with a genuine smile, watches all of this unfold with a look of amusement, clearly enjoying the easy chemistry between the three of you. “So wait, wait. What exactly did happen on set? I need to know who’s telling the truth here.”

You lean back into the couch, crossing your arms playfully as you glance between Cooper and Nicholas. "Oh, this is good," you say, your eyes lighting up with the memory. "You tell him, Nick. I think you’ve got the best perspective here."

Nicholas, always the picture of calm, shakes his head slightly, clearly entertained by the chaos unfolding between you and Cooper. "Alright," he says, his voice steady but with a hint of amusement. "Here’s the real story. Cooper, as usual, was trying to lighten the mood between takes. It was one of those intense scenes—you know, where Billy and Stu are supposed to be... doing their thing."

Cooper jumps in, unable to help himself. "You mean brutally stabbing people?"

Nicholas just gives him a look, unfazed. “Yes. That. Anyway, Cooper decided to improvise a little—”

“A little?” you interject with a laugh. “He completely threw the script out the window!”

Cooper grins, not remotely ashamed. "Hey, I was trying to make everyone laugh! It was a tense day, okay? I thought Billy needed to lighten up. Maybe do a TikTok dance between stabs. You know, just to mix things up."

Nicholas rolls his eyes good-naturedly, the smallest chuckle escaping him. “Needless to say, it didn’t go over well with the director.”

“Or anyone else on set,” you add, giggling at the memory of Cooper’s ridiculous, over-the-top dance moves while still in full Stu costume.

Cooper holds his hands up defensively. “Alright, fine. It was a bold choice. But you two were laughing! Don’t try to deny it. I saw you both.”

Nicholas’s expression softens, and he nods. “I’ll give you that. You definitely broke the tension.”

The host laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “It sounds like you guys had a lot of fun on set, despite the heavy material. How do you balance that, being in such a dark, intense movie but still having this kind of dynamic off-screen?”

You exchange a look with Nicholas and Cooper, your smile softening a bit as you think back on the experience. "I think it’s because we had to," you say thoughtfully. “When you’re dealing with a film like Scream—where you’re surrounded by horror and violence every day—it’s easy to let that weight stick with you. So we found ways to break it up, to remind ourselves that we’re just playing characters, that we don’t have to carry that darkness with us.”

Cooper nods along, his usual high energy subdued for a moment as he listens to you speak. “Yeah, exactly. And it helps when you’re working with people you trust, you know? Like, we got along so well from the beginning, so it made everything easier. Even on the tough days, I knew I could look at you guys and just... snap out of it.”

Nicholas glances at you, his expression a little more serious now. “There’s a lot of trust involved, especially with a film like this. You have to trust that the people around you are going to be there, not just as actors, but as friends. And we built that over time.”

You smile at him, grateful for the sincerity in his words. He may be quiet, but when he speaks, it always feels intentional, like there’s weight behind everything he says. And in moments like this, you’re reminded of just how much you appreciate that about him.

The host shifts in his seat, leaning forward. “That’s great to hear. It really shows on screen—the chemistry, the dynamic between you three. So, what’s next? I mean, after Scream, where do you go from here?”

Cooper jumps in again, back to his usual lively self. “Well, I think we should all do a rom-com next, right? Something light, something fluffy. Get away from all the blood and guts.”

You laugh, the idea of the three of you in a rom-com so absurd it’s actually kind of appealing. “Oh yeah, I can totally see Nicholas as the romantic lead.”

Nicholas raises an eyebrow, looking completely unfazed by the suggestion. “I don’t know about that. I think I’ll stick to horror.”

“Stoic, mysterious guy,” Cooper teases, leaning forward dramatically, pretending to narrate. “He’s hiding a dark secret, but deep down, he’s just a big softie.”

You and the host burst out laughing, and even Nicholas can’t help but crack a smile. “Alright, alright,” he concedes. “Maybe one rom-com.”

The host grins, looking between the three of you. “I would definitely pay to see that.”

The interview wraps up soon after, the room filled with easy laughter and lingering energy as you stand from the couch. You, Nicholas, and Cooper thank the host, chatting amongst yourselves as the podcast crew wraps up.

As you head toward the door, Cooper slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. "Next time, we do the rom-com," he says with a wink. “We can be the love interests and... Nick can just be there. I’ll start writing the script tonight.”

Nicholas falls into step beside you, his hands in his pockets, watching the two of you with that familiar glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll leave that to you, Cooper.”

You smile, shaking your head. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

After the interview wraps up and the bright lights of the studio fade behind you, the three of you pile into Cooper’s car. He’s talking a mile a minute, still buzzing from the podcast, hands waving animatedly as he drives.

“Man, that was fun. Did you hear how the host lost it when we started talking about the rom-com? I think we should seriously pitch that,” he jokes, throwing you a wink in the rearview mirror.

You laugh, leaning against the window in the back seat, the city passing by in a blur of neon and headlights. “You’re never going to let this rom-com thing go, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” Cooper replies, grinning. “We’d crush it. But first…” He slows the car as you approach Nicholas’s place. “How about we just hang out for a bit? Relax, watch a movie or something.”

You glance at Nicholas, who’s sitting quietly in the passenger seat, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He nods slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yeah, that sounds good. It’s been a long day.”

Cooper pulls up to the curb, parking in front of Nick’s apartment. “Alright, I’ll grab the snacks, you two go ahead. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

You and Nicholas exchange a look as you step out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you walk up to his place, the quiet hum of the city surrounding you.

Inside, the atmosphere feels different—quieter, more intimate than the usual chaos of set or interviews. Nicholas’s apartment is minimalistic but warm, with soft lighting and a collection of books and records scattered about, telling more about his quiet, thoughtful nature than he’d ever openly admit.

You slip off your shoes at the door, glancing around as Nicholas sets down his keys and heads to the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” he asks, his voice casual but soft, like it always is when it’s just the two of you.

“Water’s fine,” you reply, following him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he pours a glass. There's something unspoken hanging between you, an undercurrent of energy that’s been building for a while now—something neither of you has acknowledged out loud, but it lingers, making your every interaction feel just a little more charged than it used to be.

Nicholas hands you the glass, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. You feel the jolt of electricity, the way your skin warms under his touch, and you quickly look away, pretending not to notice the way your heart beats a little faster.

He leans against the counter beside you, his shoulder just inches from yours, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. “Today was fun,” he says quietly, his voice low in the soft glow of the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you agree, looking up at him, your gaze catching his for a second too long. “It was. It always is when we’re all together.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze with those steady eyes of his, and you can feel the tension growing, thickening the air between you. It’s not uncomfortable—it’s the kind of tension that makes your skin buzz, that fills the quiet with unspoken words, words you’ve both been too careful to say.

The front door swings open, breaking the moment as Cooper strolls in with a bag of snacks. “I’m back! Got the goods!” he calls, completely unaware of the quiet, charged moment he’s just interrupted.

You and Nicholas both turn away, the spell broken, but that energy doesn’t dissipate. It lingers, hanging in the air as Cooper throws himself onto the couch, oblivious as ever. “Alright, what are we watching?” he asks, rummaging through the bag. “Something funny, I hope. Or... maybe Scream?” He shoots you both a mischievous grin.

Nicholas chuckles softly and shakes his head. “I think we’ve had enough Scream for one day.”

“Agreed,” you say, settling onto the couch next to Cooper, grateful for the distraction but still hyper-aware of Nicholas as he joins you, sitting a little closer than usual on your other side.

You all end up picking a lighthearted comedy, something easy to watch without much thought, but your mind isn’t fully on the movie. The whole time, you can feel Nicholas beside you, his presence magnetic, pulling at you without even trying. Every now and then, your knee brushes his, and even the smallest touch sends a ripple of awareness through you, as if your body is attuned to his in a way you can’t quite explain.

Cooper, true to form, falls asleep halfway through the movie, his head dropping back against the cushions as soft snores escape him. You and Nicholas exchange a glance, both trying to stifle a laugh.

“I don’t know how he does it,” Nicholas murmurs, his voice low in the darkened room. “He was the one who wanted to hang out, and he’s the first one out.”

You smile, your heart skipping a beat at how close his voice sounds, the intimacy of the moment amplified by the quiet. “He always does this.”

Nicholas leans back, his arm stretching casually along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. The touch is light, barely there, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You feel the tension building again, heavier this time, as if the universe is pushing the two of you closer, daring you to acknowledge what’s been simmering between you for months.

You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and he’s already looking at you, his expression softer, more open than usual. There’s something in his gaze, something unguarded, like he’s letting you see just how much he cares. The realization makes your breath catch.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper now. “You okay?”

You nod, but your heart is racing, and you’re not sure if it’s the quiet or the closeness, or the fact that, for once, it feels like the unspoken tension between you might finally break.

“I’m good,” you say softly, your voice catching a little, and you feel his eyes on you, searching.

For a moment, the world outside the apartment doesn’t exist. There’s just you and Nicholas, the space between you shrinking with every second, and it feels like you’re both standing at the edge of something, something that could change everything.

Nicholas doesn’t break eye contact, and neither do you. The air in the room feels thick, almost electric, as if the space between you is charged with something both of you have been too careful to admit. His arm rests casually on the back of the couch, but his fingers twitch slightly, brushing the barest edge of your shoulder. The touch is subtle, but it’s enough to send a ripple through you—a pulse of heat that spreads from where his skin meets yours.

You swallow, trying to keep your breathing steady, but you can’t ignore the way your heart races, thudding in your chest like it’s trying to communicate something your mind hasn’t fully processed yet.

Neither of you says a word, and yet, everything is being said in the silence between you. There’s a pull, an invisible string tugging you closer, and for the first time, it feels like maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so impossible to cross that line.

Nicholas shifts slightly, turning his body more toward you, and you realize just how close you are now. His leg brushes yours again, this time lingering. His eyes are darker in the low light of the room, his usual calm and controlled demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable, something he’s usually so good at hiding.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carries weight, like he’s asking more than just about how you’re feeling in this moment. He’s asking if you’re ready, if you’re willing to let whatever this is between you two finally come to the surface.

You nod, your mouth dry, unable to trust your voice to respond. Your heart is pounding, and you’re acutely aware of every inch of space between your bodies—or lack thereof.

His hand moves from the back of the couch, sliding down slowly, deliberately, until his fingers are resting on your shoulder, gentle but firm, as if testing the waters. You don’t pull away. In fact, you lean in just a fraction, closing the distance, and you see the shift in his expression—his guarded facade softening as his breath hitches slightly.

It’s so quiet in the room now, save for the soft, steady sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. You can feel the tension building, thick and palpable, wrapping around the two of you like a thread that’s been pulled tight, ready to snap at any second.

He tilts his head, just the slightest bit, his gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again. It’s a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it feels like the ground beneath you is shifting.

You lean in, your breath catching in your throat, and for a second, everything else falls away—the interview, the movie, even Cooper snoring softly on the other side of the couch. It’s just you and Nicholas, and the space between you feels like it’s vanishing.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, his touch impossibly gentle, and you feel your breath falter as your heart skips a beat. He’s so close now that you can see the way his pupils have dilated, the soft rise and fall of his chest matching your own.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with something unspoken, something fragile but undeniable.

You shake your head, barely able to manage the words, “Don’t stop.”

And with that, the tension that’s been simmering between you for months finally breaks. He closes the distance, his lips brushing against yours softly at first, tentative, as if he’s still giving you the chance to pull away. But you don’t. You lean into the kiss, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. His lips are warm and soft, and you can feel the unspoken words behind the way he holds you, the way his hand slips to the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer. There’s a gentleness to the kiss, but also a hunger—a need that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer as the kiss grows more urgent, more intense. The world around you falls away entirely, and all that matters is the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands grip your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the room around you still thick with the weight of what just happened. You don’t say anything at first—there’s no need to. The look in his eyes says everything.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Nicholas finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, your heart still racing. “Me too.”

There’s a moment of quiet between you again, but this time, it feels different—less tense, more comfortable, like something has finally clicked into place. Nicholas watches you with that same look of admiration, the one you’ve caught glimpses of before but never fully allowed yourself to acknowledge. Now, it’s out in the open, undeniable.

Slowly, he leans in again. The kiss is slow, unhurried and easy. He hums at the taste of your lips, your hands reached up for his shoulders as you deepen the kiss. You both part after a moment, opening your eyes to meet his darkened eyes.

“Knew it.” Cooper rings out, his voice groggy and tired.

You both snap your heads toward Cooper, your bodies still close, as if you’re caught in the middle of a secret you thought no one else knew. He’s sitting up, rubbing his eyes lazily, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face as he watches you.

“Fucking knew it,” he repeats, his voice groggy but teasing, clearly amused by the moment he’s woken up to. His eyes narrow slightly, a knowing glint in them as he looks between you and Nicholas. “You two think you’re so slick, huh?”

You feel a flush creep up your neck, the heat of embarrassment mixing with the adrenaline still pulsing through you from the kiss. Nicholas tenses beside you, his jaw tightening for a split second before he exhales, leaning back slightly but keeping an arm casually draped around you.

“Cooper…” Nicholas begins, his voice steady but with a hint of exasperation.

“What? I’m just saying,” Cooper continues, throwing up his hands defensively, but the grin never leaves his face. “It’s about time. Thought I was gonna have to give you two a nudge.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Cooper, being Cooper, doesn’t seem fazed by anything, and it’s almost a relief that he’s not taking this too seriously. You can feel the tension easing out of Nicholas, too, his posture relaxing as he shakes his head.

“Were you even asleep?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at Cooper, trying to divert the attention away from the blush still lingering on your cheeks.

Cooper snickers, leaning back into the couch like he’s settling in for a good story. “Oh, I was out. But I guess I woke up just in time for the good part.”

Nicholas groans lightly, rubbing a hand over his face, but there’s a small, amused smile playing on his lips. He glances at you, a soft look in his eyes, and even with Cooper’s teasing, you can still feel that unspoken connection between the two of you—stronger now, undeniable.

“Well, now that you're awake,” Nicholas says, standing up and stretching, his hand lingering on your back for a moment before he lets go, “you wanna order food?”

Cooper grins, sitting up straighter. “Oh, I see. Change the subject. Nice try, man. But yeah, I could eat.”

You laugh, standing up as well, the warmth of Nicholas’s earlier touch still lingering on your skin. Despite Cooper’s teasing, there’s a lightness in the room now, like something that had been building for so long has finally settled. The moment between you and Nicholas wasn’t lost—it’s just the beginning.

As you walk to the kitchen with Nicholas, Cooper still muttering something under his breath about “finally,” you exchange a quick, knowing glance with Nicholas, and the spark that lit up between you earlier remains. There’s no rush. Whatever this is, it’s yours, and it’s just getting started.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew #monsters netflix #nicholas chavez icons #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez smut

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ventismacchiato · 5 months ago

Text

O6 stuck with you — crash course on how to not be an idiot !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

“Why are you just standing outside the door like a creep?”

You turn to see Scara standing behind you, adorned in sweatpants with bags under his eyes as his members slowly catch up with him. You have the knee-jerk reaction to argue with him.

“I’m not,” you defend, “You’re the one running late, is someone scared?”

“You’re the one who hasn’t gone inside,” Scara points out, reaching out to grab the doorknob but you jut your arm out to stop him, “I was right, you are scared,” Scara smirks.

You swelled up, stepping back and squaring your shoulders, and Scaramouche was immediately certain that the next words out of your mouth were going to be a lie.

“I’ll have you know…,” you caught sight of his dubious expression and seemed to deflate right before his eyes.

“I heard your mom’s attending the meeting,” you easily lie.

Scara immediately takes his hand off the doorknob.

“See, I’m not the only one scared!” you gloat.

“I’m not scared of my own mom,” Scaramouche replies. But there was an edge to his words that made you wonder if you’d just stepped on a landmine. But, being the stubborn idiot you were you barrelled on regardless, hoping to cover up the tension by burying it with more words.

“Just admit you don’t wanna go in either, wouldn’t kill you to stop acting like a smartass for two seconds.”

“I don’t act like one, everyone’s just smarter compared to someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re proving my point.”

“Fuck you, I-.”

The door gets thrown open by an exasperated Jean who is looking at you both with a solemn expression.

“Just when I thought you both were getting along,” she says, stepping back to gesture you both inside.

“We are!” you speak up, “Please don’t put us on hiatus again!”

“We weren’t even arguing,” Scaramouche adds, rather unconvincingly.

“Yeah, I love this little guy!” you lie.

You both give her a strained smile as she sees through your bullshit.

“I wish I believed you,” she sighed, “We really need to work on your acting skills.”

“Why would we—,” you don’t get to finish your question before the rest of your group members barge in after you, forcing you to attend the meeting you’ve all been dreading all week.

///

“So, before we continue with my portion of the meeting Lisa is going to give a crash course on media training,” Jean says, gesturing to Lisa standing in front of you all with a rather pointy pointer in her hand.

“Welcome to Lisa’s crash course on Media Training,” your manager smiles, “If you guys answer anything wrong then I’ll hit you with this stick!”

“Lisa, you can’t hit them,” Jean interrupts.

“Really? What’s the point then?” she sighs dejectedly, “Ok moving on. I’m going to throw some scenarios at you, and I want you both cuties sitting in the front to listen.”

You and Scara awkwardly avert eye contact with her and shrink in your seats.

“Scenario one, if you and another group under the same entertainment tie for an award, what do you do when you get on stage and there’s only one trophy?” Lisa asks, eyeing you.

Suddenly the shoes you’re wearing become rather intriguing.

“I think-,”

“Not now, Childe, honey,” Lisa interrupts, pointing at Scaramouche who was forced to sit next to you, “I want to hear from him.”

“Share the award,” he grumbles.

“Exactly! Basically the opposite of whatever you both had going on,” Lisa muses, “Even if you both hate eachother you want to appear nice in front of new fans and sponsors. How about you both come on up here and act it out!”

“I’d rather not,” you start, but Lisa is already grabbing you and Scara and pushing you to the front, taking your seat.

“Go on, pretend that book is the award,” Lisa points as you pick up her book.

“Why is the cover some shirtless guy?” Childe asks.

“Not now, hun,” Lisa hums as she waves him off, “Continue.”

Scara stares distastefully at you and the scenario you both were in.

“Wow. Congrats on the award,” he praises in a monotone voice. He pauses for a second before clapping his hands just once.

“Thank you,” you say back, your face neutral as you hold the book up, “What an honor this…is.”

The room is silent for a few seconds before someone speaks up.

“That was terrible,” Venti boos.

“It was rather…not good,” Lisa says, “There’s no nice way to put that. But better than screaming at eachother.”

“I only yelled because he yelled first,” you defend, tossing the erotic book aside, “Maybe he should be working on his media skills.”

“Maybe you should work on not being a sore loser,” Scara shoots back.

“Better than being just a loser.”

“Ironic coming from you—.”

“Alright!” Lisa claps as she stands up, “Back to your seats you go, I’ll just email the powerpoint to you both. That’ll be better.”

“Let’s take five and I’ll get into the main reason we’re here,” Jean sighs, “Ease up.”

“Listen guys,” Jean drawled, leaning on the back of one of the chairs as everyone got situated once again, “We are low on publicity after that scandal at the award ceremony.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Scaramouche mumbled.

Everyone shoots him a look.

“Okay, I admit it’s our fault. But isn’t everything fine now?” you say, taking the bullet.

“Well, sort of,” Jean starts, “But in order to keep our appearance high we’ve decided to host a show starring you all.”

“It was an idea we scrapped a while ago, but kept in the back just in case,” Lisa smiles, “A dating show!”

The room was silent before a ruckus exploded.

“What do you mean by dating show?” Lumine asks, “Who the hell are we dating?”

“Do we even have time for a show?” Kazuha pipes up.

“Where is the show going to be? Is it gonna be like the bachelor? Can I be the bachelor?” Childe rambles, “Wait, I wanna be one of the girls who fights for a rose.”

“If it’s the bachelor then are we all going to try and date one person?” Aether muses.

“This is stupid,” Scara states. And for once you agreed with him.

“Everyone, hush!” Lisa interrupts, raising her voice to get everyone to quiet down, “Let me explain before you get your panties in a twist.”

“Our panties in a what?”

“Now not Childe,” Lisa sighs, “Okay, Jean, take it away. And everyone save your questions for the end.”

“The dating show will be with all of you,” Jean states, “Later on we will add a few extra people, at most three, who will also be idols. It won’t be like the bachelor, but more like Love island if I had to compare. We’ve rented out a private island where this will be recorded.”

“We can always script random shit for views, so don’t stress too much,” Lisa adds, “But it’ll be better if it’s authentic. That being said, there’s only two of you in this room who will be following a script and have to end up together.”

Jean and Lisa both gesture to you and Scara.

“Scaramouche and Yn, you both will be fake dating on this show. And if need be after the show we can have a fake break up where you end on good terms, or have you both continue to date,” Jean explains casually as if she was simply recounting the weather.

The room is silent before everyone but you and Scara erupt into laughter.

“Oh my god,” Venti cackles, “This is going to be great.”

“I can’t wait to see you both kiss,” Childe grins.

“How the fuck is this supposed to mend our image?” Scara speaks up.

“Believe it or not, love, people ship you both,” Lisa smiles, “Even though you both are gremlins. So the fans and media will eat this up.”

“Why can’t I date someone like Lumine or Venti instead?” you question.

“I’ve seen farmers markets with less fruit, try again,” Scara remarks.

“Fuck off,” you sigh, not willing to accept your fate.

“Wait, so do the rest of us have to find someone to fake date?” Aether pipes up.

“Honestly, the rest of you can do what you want as long as you keep it interesting and reasonable,” Jean answers, “You guys can fake date or actually date your members for fun, I suppose.”

“If the show gets bland we’ll assign designated couples and scripts but you guys will mostly have free will,” Lisa adds on.

“Wow,” Childe whistles, “So who wants to cheat with me on live television?”

Lisa stares at him for a moment.

“Okay, everyone but Childe has free will.”

“Don’t damage your images even more,” Jean sighs.

“Dibs on Yoimiya,” Lumine quickly says.

“We’re calling dibs?” Venti asks.

“Then I want Xiao,” Kazuha muses.

“Let’s team up Aether!”

“Guys,” Jean sighs, “You can sort the details later and in private, for now we just need you to sign some forms so we can get production going.”

“What if I don’t wanna do it,” Scaramouche asked, already halfway out of his seat.

“Too bad, we’re writing this off as a free holiday. And according to Section 3E in your idol contracts, it’s mandatory you take one every year.” Lisa grinned, pulling out a stack of papers. “Sign away cuties, no escaping this.”

Scaramouche slowly sat back down, staring down at the contract with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

“This will be a good chance for you guys to get to know each other as friends, idol work is exhausting and can strain relationships!” Lisa explained as she passed out pens, “This is a great opportunity for you guys to relax!”

You stared down at the piece of paper in front of you, skimming the clauses.

Idols Inferno™ Participation Contract This contract outlines the terms and conditions for participation in the dating show Idols Inferno™ hosted by former idol Yae Miko, hereinafter referred to as "the Show". The Show will take place on TG6, a private island accessible via plane from Teyvat. 1. Participation Participants agree to actively participate in the three-week-long Show, adhering to the rules and guidelines set forth by Sakura Entertainment, the production company. 2. Accommodations and Activities Participants will be accommodated together at TG6. Regular idol training activities will be suspended during the duration of the Show. Participants are strongly advised against engaging in such activities. 3. Filming and Media Rights 3a. Camera crews will capture footage of participants throughout the filming period, with the exception of private areas such as restrooms. Hidden cameras and microphones will be installed throughout, including bedrooms. 3b. All footage captured during the Show remains the sole property of Sakura Entertainment, which retains the right to use and distribute it publicly. Participants forfeit any claim to ownership of footage in which they appear or that includes other participants. 4. Confidentiality Participants agree to maintain strict confidentiality regarding the content, activities, and outcomes of the Show until the official airing date. Disclosure of behind-the-scenes information before this time is strictly prohibited. 5. Electronics and Communication 5a. Personal cell phones and electronic devices are strictly prohibited during filming. Devices must be securely stored and may only be used outside of filming hours. Violation of this rule may result in confiscation of the device. 5b. A communal television and house phone will be provided for public use in the dormitory area. 6. Scripted Interactions 6a. Participants Scaramouche Shogun and Yn Ln are required to portray a fictional romantic relationship as scripted by the Show's producers. This may involve physical contact and specific dialogue as outlined in the provided script. 7. Dispute Resolution Any disputes or disagreements arising from this contract or during the filming of the Show will be resolved through mediation, arbitration, or another mutually agreed upon method. 8. Schedule and Production Details a. A tentative filming schedule will be provided to participants outlining key activities and events. Participants are expected to adhere to the schedule as directed by the production team. Please review and sign below to indicate your acceptance of these terms. Participant Name: ________ Date: Representative Name: ________ Date:

You signed away your fate, sighing dejectedly.

“Why are you standing like that?”

You scoffed, suddenly self conscious about your body.

“This looks natural, shut up.”

You had found Scara waiting for you in the lobby but once he caught sight of you he started walking ahead, leaving you behind as he started scouting outside for a good photo spot. He didn’t waste any time in ordering you around, and maybe it was the events of the day and how late it was at night, but you found yourself complying.

“You’re supposed to look like you’re having fun,” he berates.

“As if you’d know what that looks like, you rarely even smile,” you say back from where he had you stand by a tree.

“I do, just not around you.”

You roll your eyes as you sit on a bench you guys stumbled upon. It was late into the night and you both were wandering the streets your dorms were located on, but since you guys were isolated due to being idols there weren’t many places to hang out let alone fake a photoshoot.

“You’re helpless,” he mumbles, stepping forward and grabbing your legs to swing your body to the side of the bench so you’re laying down.

“Hey–!”

He joins you and sits on the other side of the bench, grimacing as he places your legs onto his lap.

“Take a photo,” he instructs.

“This is weird,” you say, not enjoying how Scara oddly had a keen eye for posing couple photos. You comply and take a few, showing Scara who immediately deleted them. After doing that for almost five minutes he was finally satisfied and pushed your legs off of him.

“Post it, now we’re done,” he says, getting up and walking back to the dorms.

“Wait up,” you huff, walking one pace behind him. You weren’t about to walk alone at night, even if your only other option was tailing Scaramouche.

He didn’t say another word until you guys reached your dorm buildings. Before he turned to head back he spared you a look.

“Let’s just get this fucking show over with.”

For once, you didn’t disagree.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

changed the update account pfps so it’s easier to see xx

did i eat that contract up or what guys

asking again pls comment on the masterlist if i can use ur username and make u a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — sorry gang i was rlly sick last week and cudnt write el oh el so enjoy this long chapter

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche idol #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche texts #stuck with you smau

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yazmarina · 6 months ago

Note

this is FILTHY ok? ok! f!reader is a new wag and still getting used to all the media attention and paparazzi, F1 driver feels kinda guilty. After a particularly hectic outing for dinner, driver sits down to ask if she is really ok with it, she is like "ill get used to it, its worth it for you" and the man is swoon!! hes like "ok, lets get you used to being the center of attention then" with a smirk and its just him pleasing her all night, even photographing her to get used to flashing lights!!

picture you

lando norris x fem!reader

you could only expect so much, having a boyfriend who likes taking pictures

warnings/notes: smut, fingering, semi-nude photography, implied insecurity

a/n: very short, just a little bite-sized drabble to test the waters. lmk what you think!

Dating celebrities is not for the weak. That much you knew. With all the media attention, tabloids scrutinizing every aspect of your relationship, curious fans digging into the recesses of your life, one must possess a certain degree of resilience.

But dating an F1 driver? Even the most tenacious of people might buckle under it all.

What was supposed to be a quiet dinner between you and Lando turned into curious eyes and less-than-quiet murmurs around the restaurant. Lando tried to steer your attention away from all the other people and you tried your hardest, you really did, to carry on a normal conversation, but Lando could see you were growing more uncomfortable with each passing minute.

So after your last bite of pasta, Lando rushed the waiter for the bill. So much for your shared creme brulee.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lando asks as the two of you step into his apartment. He flips on the light switch by the door and his whole living room comes into view.

You sigh, tossing your jacket onto the couch before collapsing on the plush upholstery.

"I'm fine," you lie. You busy yourself with the straps of your shoes, avoiding Lando's eyes.

"But you're not," Lando presses, plopping down next to you. "You can tell me if you're not."

"Eh," comes your noncommittal response. "Unless you can make every person turn away when we're out on a date, I'm afraid whatever I say won't matter at all."

Lando huffs, hands wrapping around both of your wrists. He coaxes you to look at him and you see the look of concern in his eyes. His eyebrows are bunched together, and for a moment, you think Lando looks like a scorned puppy.

"Don't be like that," Lando urges gently. "I can make them look away. I'll try."

You chuckle, leaning in briefly to kiss him right on the scar on his nose. Lando scrunches up his face, pulling away as if annoyed by the gesture.

"I just need to get used to all of this," you admit. Your thumbs find Lando's knuckles and you rub along them soothingly.

"I can bear being the center of attention if it means I'd be doing it for you," you add.

Lando's expression softens and you can almost see the twinkle in his eyes. He cradles both sides of your face and pulls you in to kiss you square on the lips, his mouth plush against yours.

"You're dating the Lando Norris, of course, you're gonna be the center of attention," Lando teases, nudging your cheek with his nose. You laugh, fingers threading through the hair near Lando's nape.

"Big talk for someone who begs for cuddles every night," you whisper back as Lando kisses his way down your neck.

His hands grip tightly around your waist as he adjusts the way you lay against the couch, pulling you fully underneath him. Your hair splays out against the throw pillows and your chest is heaving, Lando's teeth lightly grazing the skin over your jugular.

"You can be the center of attention right now," Lando murmurs near your ear, large hands sliding under the hem of your dress. He bunches the silky material up around your waist, exposing your lower half.

You huff as you're left bare from the waist down, Lando pulling back to grab something off the coffee table.

His camera.

Your breath hitches as he squints, angling his eye against the viewfinder. Lando snaps a picture, the flash going off just as you gasp in surprise. He takes another one, his hand coming down to rest against your breast.

"Lando...," you whimper. You hook your legs around his hips, pulling yourself closer, right against his thigh. You start to grind against the rough material of his jeans, your panties doing little to confine the wetness between your legs.

"Naughty," Lando chuckles, pressing a hand down on your abdomen to still your movements. He pulls the material of your underwear away, fingertips immediately pressing against your cunt.

You can't help the moan that escapes you, the cool touch of Lando's fingers a contrast to the warm liquid that's leaking from your hole.

"Smile, honey," Lando encourages, taking another photo. You shiver at the thought of these images of you, tucked away only for you and Lando to see.

"You're a star, baby," Lando continues, circling your entrance once, twice, before plunging two fingers in. You mewl, hips shooting up to meet Lando's hand.

"You're a natural. So good for me, yeah?"

Lando starts to pump in and out of you, curling his fingers periodically against that one spot inside. You stare straight at the lens through your lashes and you can see the grin that spreads on Lando's face from behind the camera. He takes a burst of shots as you play it up for him, biting your lip and grabbing onto your boobs.

"Oh, I wanna see you cum on my fingers, baby," Lando says mischievously. "Wanna take a picture so it lasts longer."

He quickens his pace, the loud squelch of his fingers echoing around the space of Lando's living room. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when you feel Lando angle his fingers deeper, your walls clenching around him.

"Come on, let it go for me, sweetheart," Lando implores, snapping more pictures as you start to unravel.

Your fingernails dig into one of the couch pillows, your other hand reaching down as you shove your fingers beneath your panties, rubbing at your aching clit. You hear Lando grunt at this, zooming in on your hand so artfully outlined in your thin underwear as you frantically work your nub closer to orgasm.

"Filthy," Lando practically spits out. "So fucking filthy, my love."

Your release rips through your entire body and your back arches impossibly high off the couch. You hear the camera shutter go off again but it's faint, overtaken by the loud ringing in your ears as waves of your orgasm wash over you.

You're panting a few moments later once it starts to fade, your vision bleary and Lando barely coming into focus in front of you.

He places the camera back on the coffee table, leaning down to kiss you fervently. He licks into your mouth and you groan, fingers tangling in his hair.

"There's more where that came from," you whisper against Lando's lips.

You can only yelp as Lando flips you over on your stomach.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #ln4

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litfiction · 5 months ago

Text

oneshot stolen charger 🪫

pairing — paige bueckers x fem!reader

content & warnings — "arguing because paige stole your charger" , only playful arguing!

word count: 1k , notes @ the end (something fun!)

“Has anyone seen my charger?” You walked into your living room where some of your and Paige’s friends were gathered. Most people shook their heads no, some replying out loud. You sighed. Your phone was down to 5% and starting to lag.

You had felt around for it on your bed when the 20% battery warning popped up in the middle of watching your show but left it when you couldn’t find it. 20% was okay for now. When you got the 10% warning you felt around more thoroughly, even checking under your bed thinking maybe it had fallen when you moved around to get comfortable.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t there. Frustration started to set in when you searched all over your room to no avail, your phone battery quickly draining to 8%.

It wasn’t on your nightstand, it hadn’t been plugged into the outlet at your desk. You vividly remember taking it back to your room after charging your phone in the bathroom to let it play your music while you showered earlier.

After going out to your dorm’s common area you searched the outlets behind couches and through the clutter on the kitchen counters which showed no results. Literally where could it possibly be?

It’s not like your charger has legs and skedaddled off when you needed it.

Or maybe it’s just really good at hide and seek because now your phone was at 3% and you still have no clue where your damn charger could be. You’ve looked in all the obvious places.

Well, maybe except for one.

You quickly pace towards Paige’s door, leaning close to it to hear what she was doing inside before knocking. “Come in,” the blonde’s voice came a moment later.

You opened the door to see KK and Jana scrolling on KK’s phone. Your figure had appeared in the background and they had seen this, gesturing you over to show you off to the live.

“Hey girl! The live wants to see you,” KK smiled brightly. You momentarily forget about the search for your runaway phone charger to greet the people on KK’s live.

You squeeze between KK and Jana so that you’re all in frame before waving and saying hi quickly before turning to the girls on your sides to ask them if they’ve seen your charger.

Jana shakes her head no, followed by KK’s “Negative”.

“Seriously? I’ve been looking for like 10 minutes!” You sigh, exasperatedly.

The people in the live chat laughing at your frustration, some empathizing with your pain. You looked down and your phone was down to 1%. It was a losing battle and you’d just let it die at this point.

Doesn’t mean you don’t still need your charger.

You stand up straight from your bent position between Jana and KK, your face being cropped out of frame. Your head swivels to look at Paige and ask her if she’s seen the cord.

She’s sitting up on her bed, legs stretched out with one crossed over the other, her back against the wall. She wasn’t paying attention, her eyes glued to her phone, occasionally laughing quietly at something funny she happens to see while scrolling.

Your eyes meet her figure before flicking to what’s in her hand. Her phone, on charge, using your charger. The very thing you’ve been looking for for almost 15 minutes by this point.

“Paige!” You demand. She looks up from her phone to look at you, her expression calm but confused. “Yes?” She responds obliviously. “You stole my charger!”

She looks back down and then drags her gaze back up to you with a sheepish smile. “Give it back!” You demand again, putting your hand out for her to return your charger. She shakes her head immediately. “No! I’m using it now!” Paige retorts. You groan, “You always do this! You always steal my stuff and then refuse to give it back to me when I ask for it back!”

“Ok first of all, you didn’t ask, you demanded. Second, you can’t just wait until I’m done using it?” She questions you like she’s the one in the right. You glare at her. “I demanded it because you stole it, and no, I can’t wait this time because my phone is dead and I just wanna watch my show!”

By this point, KK and Jana (and even some people in the living room) aren’t paying attention to what they’re doing. Even the live was invested in this argument. KK was quietly snickering while Jana just watched this unfold.

“C’monnnn,” Paige whined. “Just give me 5 more minutes!”

You shook your head adamantly. “No Paige, I need my charger now.”

“How did you even get it? I had it in my room. And why? You have your own charger, Paige, do you not?” You deadpanned.

Paige just shrugs at you. “Aubrey needed a charger so I offered her mine but then I needed to charge but Aubrey wasn’t at a good enough percentage so I took yours. I just grabbed it from your nightstand while you were in the bathroom.”

You roll your eyes. Of course she had. “Ok well, time’s up! Hand it over.” She makes puppy dog eyes at you, making you roll your eyes at her again. “That hasn’t worked for you before, it won’t work now.”

She leans her head back against the wall and sighs before unplugging the base of your charger from her wall and crawling on her bed towards where you stood at the edge of it to place the cord in your outstretched hand.

You shoot her a sarcastic smile before thanking her and walking back out to your bedroom. Finally, you can watch your show in peace.

You enter your room and head to your closet to grab your favorite sweater.

But when you open your closet doors expecting to see the fluffy bundle sitting in an organizer just at eye level, it wasn’t there.

Then you register what Paige had been lounging in.

You were too busy to notice it hanging off her shoulders. You throw your head back exasperatedly then yell towards her door. And you swear you hear her snicker with KK.

🔖 — i feel somewhat ashamed that this is the longest work i have on here.. also hi again! i haven't written in a bit because i haven't had any ideas :( my requests are open if anyone wants to send something in! anyway, this is day one of something i've decided to try! for july i'm gonna pick a prompt from a list i have and write something based on that! i didn't take the list from anywhere i just made it myself. i wanted to do this to just write more and push myself to write stuff with creative freedom since a lot of prompts are quite vague. but yeah! that's my update, sorry this so long oops. hope this was entertaining to some degree, thank you for reading!!

#✮ litfiction #✮ c says #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb

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wandascosmic · 4 months ago

Text

your boyfriend, he's upset (4)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part four of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 2596

tags: slight homophobia, best friends to lovers, reader's so in love, wanda's as oblivious as it gets, to reader's feelings and her own, reader messing with sam even more, wanda joins in on the pranks, we hate vision in this one

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

“Hey,” Sam whispers to you as you’re reading over your files by the copy machine. “So, listen, I was thinking that it might be a good idea if you and I formed an alliance, you know, ‘cause of the downsizing.”

You nod slightly, still keeping your eyes on your papers but acknowledging the fact that you’re listening to him. There was a rumor going around that Tony was possibly being forced by corporate to remove a couple of his staff, and because Sam was Tony’s biggest suckup, naturally he was worried about being laid off. You and Wanda had talked about it earlier, and you both weren’t too worried, since you knew you would remain friends. Plus, the only good part about your job in your opinion was seeing Wanda every day, so that would probably be the driving force that would make you miss this place at all.

“Would you like to form an alliance with me?” he asks lowly, like the two of you were on some sort of top-secret mission.

You meet his gaze, narrowing your eyes and looking over your shoulder as if to ensure no one was eavesdropping on your conversation. “Absolutely, I do,” you respond under your breath, imitating his spy-like tone of voice.

“Good, good,” Sam answers, crossing his arms and scowling around at the members of the office. “Okay, now we need to figure out who’s vulnerable, and who’s protected,” he points a finger to emphasize his point.

Sam continues to speak about his plan for the two of you, but you don’t hear him over the excitement bubbling up in your chest as he presents to you a way you can finally get back at him for all the times he’s annoyed you. Your mind runs through a million different ideas of how to prank him, and you try not to smile to give it away, doing your best to maintain a serious expression.

“Just one other thing, and this is important,” Sam states, and you snap out of your thoughts to play your role once more.

You lean closer to hear him clearly.

“This alliance is completely secret, ok? You cannot tell anyone about this.”

You nod, holding out your hand for him to shake. He takes it with a firm grip.

*** “An alliance?” Wanda asks with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug, leaning over her desk, acting nonchalant but giving her a look to indicate that it’s a joke to you too.

“What does that even mean?”

You break out into a smile. “I don’t know, I think it has something to do with ‘Survivor’, but I’m honestly not sure,” you joke.

Wanda chuckles at your jest.

“It’ll definitely involve spying on people, and we may build a fort in accounting,” you finish amusingly as she grins.

“Y/N!” Sam interrupts from across the room, your head snapping up to turn towards him by the fake tree in the middle of the office.

He narrows his gaze at you and Wanda suspiciously. “Can I talk to you for a second about…the paper products?” he lies, beckoning you over with a gesture of his hand.

“Good luck,” Wanda whispers to you.

You wink at her before walking over to meet Sam in the kitchen.

Wanda watches your retreating from with a smile and an amused shake of her head.

***

Slamming the door closed, Sam wastes no time in confronting you. “Did you tell Wanda about the alliance?” he accuses, pointing a finger at your chest.

“What? No-” you respond as if his accusation is completely ludicrous.

“Just now!” Sam shouts at you.

“Oh,” your eyes widen in fake realization. “Oh, no, no, no, Sam, no. I’m using her,” you clarify. “For the alliance.”

Sam looks at you skeptically.

“Who knows the most information about this office? Wanda!” you explain.

“Right, that’s good, keep doing it,” Sam says, watching Wanda work at her desk in suspicion through the kitchen window.

“Well, I’m trying to,” you answer. “Do you see what I’m doing?”

“Mhm,” Sam continues to analyze all of Wanda’s actions.

“But listen,” you get his attention, turning him back around to face you. “I’m gonna have to talk to her a lot, all right?” Sam nods. “And there may be chatting, and giggling, alright? And you gotta just pretend to ignore it, got that? Wipe it away.”

“Done,” Sam says.

“All right,” you acknowledge, patting him on the back and leaving the kitchen to head to your desk.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” you tell Sam in the parking lot between the cars, pacing back and forth with your arms crossed and a scowl on your face.

“What?” he asks with worry.

“Bruce and Nat,” you pause, stepping closer to him. “They’re forming an alliance,” you admit.

“What? How do you know?” he asks disbelievingly.

“I saw them talking at lunch,” you lie. In reality, they were talking about their favorite sandwich shop in New York and they let you join in on the fun. You actually managed to learn a lot more about the history of ham and cheese. “And if Bruce is in HR, and Nat is in accounting, think about it.”

“Oh, they are forming an alliance!” he grunts angrily, kicking the tires of a red car in front of the two of you.

“Okay, listen,” you tell him. “We need to assume that everyone in this office is forming an alliance, and is therefore trying to get us kicked off.”

“God, damn it! Why us?” he asks up at the sky.

You hold his shoulder as he makes eye contact with you. “Because we’re strong, Sam. Because we’re strong.”

***

“Hey, Y/N? Can I talk to you for a second?” Wanda asks, her arms crossed as she comes up to your desk, seeming as if something was weighing her down.

“Sure, what’s up?” you ask, swiveling around in your chair to face her.

“Um, I don’t know, I’m just going a little crazy,” she explains. “‘Cause I keep overhearing all of these conversations between Tony and corporate.”

Sam’s ears perk up as he hears Wanda’s confession from his desk next to yours.

“And they’re all about like, staff issues,” she continues.

You smirk as you see Sam’s brows furrow out of the corner of your eye as he pretends to keep reading his magazine.

“Oh, no,” you respond, leaning your elbow on your chair’s armrest and putting your chin in your hand.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And he’s making me take notes on all these meetings, and I’m like, “These people are my friends,”” she says with worry.

“Right,” you acknowledge.

“But he’s all like, “This is confidential, you can’t tell anybody,”” she imitates. “But I don’t know, I just feel like I need to tell somebody, you know?”

“Yeah, of course,” you assure her.

“Anyways, just promise me you’re not gonna say anything?” she asks you nervously and pulling her sleeves over the back of her hands.

“I will not tell anybody,” you promise. “This is between you and me.”

“Okay,” she says with relief and blows out a puff of air. You get out your chair and follow her back to her desk.

“I didn’t know you were an actress, Maximoff, that was perfect,” you whisper to her, stopping at reception, and drumming your fingers on the table.

“All in a day’s work, L/N,” she repeats your phrase back to you with a cheeky grin as she sits back down.

You shake your head in amusement. That was all her idea too. Leaning on your elbow and putting your head in your palm, you admire her quietly as she starts typing on her computer, giving you small smiles every now and then. You sigh softly, she’s so amazing.

***

“Okay, here’s the deal,” you let Sam know in the kitchen, locking the door and peeking through the window to make sure no one’s listening. “Wanda says that one of the alliances is meeting in the warehouse during Jennifer’s birthday party later today.”

“Oh my god, we have to be there!” Sam responds.

“I know! But it’s gonna be a little tough because there’s no good place to hide down there,” you explain.

“No, no, yes there is behind the shelves- oh my God,” Sam’s eyes widen.

“What is it?” you ask with curiosity.

“I know exactly what to do.”

***

“This is not what I had in mind, Sam,” you say as he steps into the large cardboard box in the middle of the warehouse.

“Shut up, this is gonna be perfect, Y/N. It’s got a central location, and it’s the perfect cover. I can see and hear everything,” he answers.

“Okay, good,” you respond, as he sits down in the box. “Wait, this isn’t gonna work, the lids open,” you let him know.

“So tape it down,” he answers obviously.

“I can’t do that,” you squat down at his level. “You won’t be able to breathe.”

He rolls his eyes. “Look, I can breathe just fine, okay, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll poke holes in the box.”

“Thank you, okay,” you nod, standing up and closing the lid.

“God, you’re so needy, Y/N,” he says.

“Yeah, thank you, Sam,” you say sarcastically. “So, do you want me to stay here, and you know, stand next to the box?”

“No,” he retorts, opening up the lid from the inside. “You need to go upstairs to the party, so people don’t notice that we’re both gone.”

“Right. That’s good.”

You poke a couple of holes in the box as well as two peepholes before taping the lid shut.

Letting Sam know that you’re finished, he tells you to leave to go to the party. “All right, let me know if you hear anything,” you tell him, walking backwards slowly, and trying your best to hold in your laughter.

Once you’re at the bottom of the staircase you turn to rush upstairs to let Wanda know about what your shared scheme has led to.

***

“He’s in a box?” Wanda asks disbelievingly as she looks up at you from her chair.

“Wanda, he’s in a box!” you laugh, eating a bite of Jennifer’s birthday cake and leaning further over her desk. “He’s downstairs, in a box, on the floor near the shelves.”

Wanda laughs.

“I’m serious! Go down there, check it out, and work your magic,” you say as you point your fork at her with a mischievous grin.

Wanda bites her lip in mischief, nudging her head towards the stairs for the two of you to go mess with Sam even more.

Wanda steps down the stairs loudly to make sure Sam can hear her arrival, while you trudge behind her as quietly as possible ready to watch the scene unfold before you.

Stopping at the last few steps, you point towards the box Sam is in, and Wanda walks towards it, pulling out her phone.

“Hey, where are you?” she says as if she’s on an important call. “Yeah, we were supposed to meet here.”

You bite your fist to hold in your laughter.

“What?” Wanda says with fake shock. “Oh my gosh,” Wanda says as she covers her mouth to hold in her laughter. “That ties in perfectly with something that Tony was telling me earlier!” The two of you look at each other with enormous grins as you both notice Sam trying to tear open the box from the inside with his pocket knife. “Yeah, I just don’t know what people, in like, accounting are gonna do,” she says as if she’s stressed. “It said specifically that-”

Sam falls over in his box and the two of you nearly burst out in hysterics.

With Sam letting out a groan of pain, Wanda shuts her phone and runs towards you with a huge smile on her face and grabs your hand absentmindedly, the two of you unable to control your laughter as you both make your way back upstairs.

***

“Wanda!” you say excitedly as you run around her receptionist's desk to stand behind her chair. “I have something that totally tops the box.”

“Oh, tell me, tell me,” she says eagerly looking up at you.

“Okay,” you start with a big smile on your face. “I have just convinced Sam that he needs to go to Stamford, and spy on our other branch.”

Wanda muffles her laughter with her hand.

“No, no, no!” you continue. “But before he does so, I told him that he should dye his hair to go undercover.”

“Oh my god,” Wanda says, putting her head in her hand as she tries to stop her overwhelming urge to fall to the floor in hysterics.

The two of you break out into a fit of laughter together, and in the heat of the moment, you wrap one of your arms around her shoulder and place your palm there and hold her hand with the other.

“If we can get him to drive to Connecticut, and put peroxide in his hair,” you continue through your laughter, the two of you unable to stop your giggles.

“What the hell is this?”

Your heart drops as you hear the sound of Wanda’s fiance. Stopping your laughter immediately, you take a big step away from Wanda and turn your head, making direct eye contact with Vision.

“What are you trying to cop a feel or something, L/N?” he asks in anger.

“No, no, no-” you try to explain.

Vision’s anger overcomes him further and he starts to stalk towards you in rage. You take a couple steps back in fear away from him.

“Vis! Hey, hey, stop!” Wanda interrupts, putting herself between the two of you and placing the palm of her hand on Vision’s chest.

Wanda looks at you wide-eyed as Vision continues to glare daggers at you.

“God, I don’t even know how to explain this,” you say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. Whether that was in fear or nervousness you didn’t know, but this was definitely not an ideal situation. “Um,” you clear your throat. “Sam asked me to be in an alliance,” you state, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “And, um, we were, we’ve just been messing with him, you know, because of the whole alliance thing.”

“Yeah, it’s just office pranks,” Wanda explains to her fiance, rubbing his arm to calm him down.

“Exactly, it’s just office pranks,” you agree.

“An alliance, what the hell is he talking about?” Vision asks Sam who stands by the fake tree.

You look at Sam, silently apologizing and urging to explain the situation.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Sam replies, ignoring the situation before him and plopping down at his desk to make his sales calls.

Your mouth parts slightly in shock.

Vision looks at you angrily. “C’mon,” he tells Wanda, shoving her in the direction of the door while never breaking eye contact with you. Wanda tries to give you an apologetic look as she walks out but you don’t manage to meet her gaze as her fiance continues to intimidate you.

Once Wanda’s outside, Vision stalks even closer to you, and at this point you’re nearly completely back to back with the wall. “You know she’s not gay, right?” he tells you venomously.

Gulping, you nod.

He narrows his eyes at you in anger, before finally deciding to walk out and follow his fiance.

Standing awkwardly at Wanda’s empty receptionist’s desk, you walk quietly towards the ledge and lean onto your elbows, and sigh softly into your hands.

part 5

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wandamaximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel

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betterthanyalls · 20 days ago

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Can u do a Reader x epic various where y/n is apart of Ody's crew and during the end of thunder bringer Zeus kidnaps y/n and takes them to Olympus instead of letting them either drown or get washed up onto Calypso's island?🥰🥰🤩🤩 It'd be cool if during God games or something Athena finds out what Zeus did and now instead of the games being just to free Ody from Calypso's island, it's ALSO about freeing y/n from Olympus and reuniting them with Odysseus?? Sorry if this doesn't make sense or if it's too much work lol, just write this however you want if you even wanna write it at all teehee ^^"

blinks i think i went through 37 different emotions while writing this, most of them were bad. Ok so, I'm not sure how good this is but please don't kill me😇 TW: Zeus gives reader Ganymede treatment

Masterlist

Stolen Soldier

Various (kind of) x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Angst

Words: 1.6K

Published: 11-4-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thunder roared, winds whipped, and waves rocked the lone ship back and forth. Standing on the bow of the ship was a figure of divine power and presence, waiting with a wicked grin. “Choose,” the king of the gods demanded harshly.

“Choose?” Odysseus muttered, looking at Zeus in fear. “Someone’s got to die today, and you have got the final say. You,” he pointed to Odysseus before gesturing to the rest of the crew, “or your crew.”

The captain looked to his crew, locking eyes with Y/n—his best friend, his rock, his shelter. He took a shaky breath, looking back to Zeus in desperation.

“Please don’t make me do this; don’t make me do this,” Odysseus begged. His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Looking back at his crew, he saw a range of emotions: anger, hurt, terror, grief, and more. Taking a daring glance at his closest friend, the soldier felt his heart shatter. Holding back tears, Y/n gave him a hesitant nod to show it was ok.

Then, a new voice tore his gaze away from his crew. Looking out over the sea and to the clouds, a figure of familiarity seemed to take place within the clouds. Illusion or not, that was his wife.

Penelope. Odysseus took staggering steps across the shaking boat and to the edge. Both of his hands latched to the wooden railing, his eyes never moving from the clouded position of his partner. Memories flooded his judgment, from his crew and Y/n, to his family waiting for him. “Captain?” A voice of uncertainty spoke up. Eurylochus. The said captain couldn’t even dare face his right-hand man as the sky darkened and Penelope faded back to the clouds.

“I have to see her," Odysseus whispered, tears brimming in his eyes as he finally looked back at his crew. The general saw all of the hurt and betrayal in his men’s expressions. The fear hurt the most to see. “But we’ll die,” Eurylochus pleaded. Odysseus knew he would regret this option until his final breath. Once he got home, how would he tell Ctimene he was the cause of her husband's death? “I know,” Odysseus’ voice broke, a few stray droplets not belonging to the storm washed down his cheeks.

At the end of those words, the thunder roared, and Zeus grinned evilly. Zeus rose above the clouds, lightning moving to gather in his raised hand.

“Thunder, bring her through the wringer.” The crew drew their weapons in defense, charging towards Odysseus with murderous intent. Y/n stood away from the fight, not daring to lift any sort of weapon against her best friend.

“Show her I'm the judgment call. The one who makes her kingdom fall. Lightning, wield her, use and yield her.”

As the crew closed in on their captain, the air started to become tense and electrified. Y/n took a step back from the chaos, looking up to see a phenomenon of heavenly power. “Show her what she can’t conceal; her true nature will be revealed.”

A bright light enclosed the surrounding sky, ripping down to the center of the ship. In an instant, a deafening crack sounded, and all light faded to black. Y/n felt like her soul was being ripped apart as she opened her mouth to scream her pain, but no noise came out. Then she felt a drop, only to be brought into a suffocating embrace of cold. Finally, her mind cut out. ~~~~~ Y/n felt different. She didn’t sense the shivering water anymore, but instead a subtle warmth. It took a few minutes, but eventually she managed to peek open her eyes. Y/n wasn’t on a ship in the middle of the sea with the night sky above anymore, but instead there was a grand painting on the ceiling of white marble overhead. Looking around slowly, the young woman saw an unfamiliar scene.

A lavish bedroom surrounded her, furnishings a king could only dream of sitting like average decor in each nook and cranny. Moving her hands, Y/n felt the silk sheets of a glorious bed below her. Ivory blankets fell from her body as she slowly rose up from her position. Placing her feet on the cold marble flooring, the mortal stepped through the room. It wasn’t long before she found herself in front of a floor-length mirror.

White and gold fabric draped down on her body—a dress fit for a goddess of divine origin. Confusion clouded her eyes as she scanned her new attire. That puzzlement was quickly replaced with fear as two wooden doors opened, revealing an even more confusing sight.

A tall man wearing a white toga entered the room without a care of knocking. Striding to where Y/n stood, she instinctively took steps back from him. “My dear, why do you back away?” The smile on his face was unnerving, especially with the nickname. Y/n recognized that voice immediately, terror coursing through her veins as her lips parted to let out a gasp.

“Zeus.”

The god in question continued to walk towards her with that two-faced smile until he backed the mortal into a wall. “Mmm, you’re as smart as you are beautiful,” he took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Y/n shuddered in disgust and fear; her heart raced faster than a chariot racer's steeds. She wanted to push him away, but her body felt locked in place. Y/n tried to speak, but her lips were closed tightly like a stone wall. “Hm, dear, I think I know a dress that’d fit your body much better. Let me help.”

~~~~~

Within only the second morning of the Heavenly Palace, Y/n had the overwhelming urge to jump off. But she wouldn’t be allowed such a pleasure with the god at her side. Zeus had taken it upon himself to guide the mortal on a tour through Olympus, which only influenced her thoughts.

Y/n kept her eyes on Zeus every second. Not out of intrigue or anything of that sort, but of apprehension. Each movement of his that was near her direction, the mortal would tense up and pause everything. Soon enough, the king of Olypmus noticed and grinned with faux comfort. “Dear, you seem tense. Allow me to ease you.” ~~~~~ Day after day. Weeks after week. Zeus never let Y/n leave his side, threatening any god or goddess who even dared to give her a sympathetic glance. The woman was a shell of who she once was. Her eyes sunk and her soul depleted; she felt her life draining by the day. Not in mortality-wise, no Zeus would never let her perish. But in consideration of her spirit.

Each night she would cry until no more salt would leave, leaving only choking sobs. Each night she was infiltrated by the king of Olympus. Y/n would stare at herself in the mirror, vomit building in her throat as her eyes trailed down to every mark on her body. No spot was untouched. No matter how hard she tried, Y/n could never wash off the sin. The mortal would scrub her skin until she was raw and bleeding, but the phantom touches remained.

Each night she missed her home and friends more and more. Where was Odysseus now? Did he forget all about her when he returned to Ithaca? What about Penelope? Would she miss her best friend?

Seven years. Seven years of misery, force, and agony. Seven years of physical and mental torture she endured to no fault.

But soon, like all stories, her savior arrived. ~~~~~

Athena stood in front of her father, spear and shield in hand, while staring into the king’s eyes murderously.

“I’ve played your game and won. Release them,” the goddess of wisdom demanded, shifting her gaze to where Y/n stood anxiously beside Zeus’ throne. The mortal had gone through so much, and Athena was determined to save her.

Zeus glowered down at his daughter, rage covering his expression. “You dare to defy me? To make me feel shame?” He growled, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles turned a bright alabaster. “No one beats me; no one wins my game!”

The lightning god stood up threateningly, his hands glowing a static yellow. “Thunder, bring her through the wringer!” The air was caught in Y/n’s throat at the familiar words, her eyes wide in horror. Zeus rose up, the electricity in his hands growing as the woman noticed the alarmed looks on the other god’s expressions. “Show her I’m the judgment call, the one who makes her kingdom FALL!” With a vociferous burst, he threw the lightning at his daughter, forcing her back onto the floor. Once the light faded, everyone looked to see the warrior lying face down, her body still as ice. “Is she dead?” the voice of her brother Ares asked hesitantly. Y/n thought back to every moment her and Odysseus had been with Athena. They were an unstoppable force together. Now though, Y/n only wanted to rush to the goddess side. Before anyone could do anything, Athena struggled to her feet, holding her aegis in defense while pointing the spear tip to her father.

Zeus’ look of utter shock soon turned to rage at her defiance. In response, he sent a barrage of bolts towards his favorite child. Against this attack, the war patroness held her shield strong and pushed against the force, making her way to her father.

Finally, at the feet of the king, she grabbed his arm and fell to her knees.

“Let them go, please. Let them go.” Her plea was finished as the goddess collapsed, her breath slowing to a stop.

#x reader #betterthanyalls #oneshot #ask #epic the musical x reader #epic the musical #epic zeus #zeus #zeus x reader #epic musical #epic the thunder saga #epic the wisdom saga #oddyseus #epic odysseus

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

hi my lover,

i have a joel request🤭

something angsty and evil. like joel says the most awful thing to reader about her being delusional that he could ever love her or something. (cause they haven’t defined their relationship) and then reader writes a note and leaves in the middle of the night and ellie finds it and yells at joel. with a fluffy ending cause i like to cry then happy cry.

ok bye ily😏

AN | It hurts a little but there’s a fluffy ending! 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you serious?” The expression on his face was enough to send chills down your spine. But these were all the wrong sorts of chills, “you’re not that dumb, are you?”

“I…” you’d never heard him speak like that before, especially not to you. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry, tears threatening to well up and roll down your cheeks, “I don’t….”

“What?” he mocked, arms crossing over his chest and a hard expression on his face, “can’t even put a sentence together?”

You kept your sniffles down, but that didn’t keep from your voice trembling and sounding so small, “J-Joel, why are you doing this?”

“Let me make this clear,” he leaned in and gestured between the two of you, “we - you and I - are nothing. I don’t care about you, okay? I’m definitely not in love with you, little girl. So get that straight. You are nothing to me.”

You weren’t able to hold back your tears anymore, and felt them dip down your cheeks, warm and salty. You recoiled from him, almost as though he’d hit you. He might as well have. It would have hurt less than this. Brushing away your tears, starting to back away; this wasn’t your Joel, you didn’t know this Joel at all.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out before just turning on your heel and running away. You didn’t even know where you were heading to, you just knew that you had to get away from him. You couldn’t bear to look at him for a moment longer.

Whatever had happened to Joel Miller was nothing you wanted a part of.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You spent the latter part of the day locked in your room and pacing around, nervous and worried that he might come back and find you for some reason. You know, kick while you’re already down. There had been so much malice in his words that they kept ringing in your head all day. You had no clue what had suddenly come over him to cause him to act this way.

But perhaps, this had always been him and he was just now showing you his true colors. And yet…no. You knew deep down that this wasn’t him. But it still felt heartbreaking. You had no idea how you were supposed to face him again. You weren’t sure if you wanted to face him.

Eventually, after a lot of contemplation and mulling over your options, you decided you knew what you were going to do.

You hadn’t come to Jackson with much, and packing up your singular bag hadn’t taken a long time. It felt weird to see your entire life, what everything had amounted to, shoved into one bag.

Despite your desire to just leave, you knew that you couldn’t entirely leave without saying anything. You scribbled down a quick note and left it on the kitchen table deciding that it would suffice.

It was late, and Joel and Ellie were sleeping. At least they appeared to be; the house was dead silent and the lights in their bedrooms appeared to be off. You hesitated in front of Ellie’s door, thinking about seeing if she was up so you could give her a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock. The girl needed rest and you didn’t want to bother her with something that felt so trivial.

Instead you put your hand on her door before leaving in silence. You hoped that one day you would be able to see her again.

After ensuring you had everything, you walked to the front door and stepped out into the quiet, still evening. On to the next, you figured, on to something that you knew would never match what you had with Joel and Ellie.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel could sense that something was off as soon as he woke up the next morning. Things felt different…heavy. He knew that he did not like it.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Ellie sitting at the table, the expression on her face a mixture of shock, sadness, and anger. Once she heard him, she looked up and glared daggers at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she stood up from the table, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. Joel’s eyebrows raised as he shrugged at her. He had no clue what was going on - okay…maybe had some clue. But still, he wasn’t expecting her to come up to him and slam a note against his chest, “how can you be so stupid! You ruined everything!”

“What are you talking about?” He looked at her with surprised eyes and shook his head. He took the note and unfolded it gingerly.

“Read the note,” she shoved him lightly, “and figure it out. Idiot.”

She pushed past him and ran up the stairs, slamming her shut so harshly that some of the frames on the wall rattled. He flinched at the sound but finished unfolding the note and quickly reading it.

By the time he reached the end, he wasn't sure if was mad at you or angry with himself. The latter more than anything else. He knew what he did, what he had said wasn't right, but he - in his own weird, flawed way - thought that pushing you away was the best thing to do. He just never thought it would affect you this much.

He accepted that you were going to be mad at him, he deserved it at the very least, but to have you this heartbroken was devastating. You really did love him. You'd told him as much but he'd never allowed him to believe it.

And now you were gone. Gone like a thief in the night.

"Fuck," he held the note to his chest before sighing shakily, trying to control the trembling in his body, "fuck."

But he already knew what he had to do.

He ran up the stairs and threw open Ellie's door without even bothering to knock. She looked at him in confusion but only raised her eyes.

"I'm going," he was breathless and mentally mapping out everything he needed to pack before he left. Things be damned, he figured, as long as he had some sort of weapon it would be okay. He could handle hunger or cold, pretty much anything, except the idea of you being gone.

"What?" But she was already jumping off the bed and looking for her backpack.

"For her," he answered despite not having too, "you're not coming, Ellie. I don't need you to get hurt too. I can handle it. But I fucked up."

"Joel," he wouldn't have minded her going, but he also wanted to keep her safe. But she was like him, stubborn and iron willed.

"Ten minutes," he answered in reply, "don't want to lose more time."

You'd left in the night while he had been sleeping. And it was only about nine in the morning now, piecing it together Joel realized you couldn't have had more than about an eight hour head start. They could cover ground easily and catch up. Especially if you hadn't taken a horse which, if you were trying to be discreet you wouldn't have.

"Let's go," Ellie swung her backpack over her shoulder and opened the door, "no time to waste."

He grabbed his own backpack and nodded gruffly. He might have royally fucked up, but he was going to do everything in his power to fix it.

Even if you hated him forever, he wanted to make sure you were safe.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You should have thought this through a little more. But in the middle of the night and with a broken heart, people didn't generally make smart decisions. It was you, you were people.

And you were currently freezing and trying to stop yourself from shivering. You'd only grabbed your light winter jacket and it had started snowing. Of course it did.

You also hadn't bothered to take a horse, or food, or anything really. All you'd taken with you were a few weapons, a few snack bars and the clothes on your back. Yeah. You hadn't really thought any of this out. Smart was not something you'd use to describe yourself at that moment.

And you were growing tired. You'd been walking for hours and your feet were sore and you really just wanted a rest. You were fairly sure that nothing would happen to you on the path you were taking, but the risk wasn't worth it. You just had to push through and go a few more hours before you'd be near civilization - or rather civilization adjacent - again. Then you could rest.

But your body had other ideas, and after another hour or so, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You were getting a stitch in your side, and your legs felt like jelly; you had to rest for a little while if you were going to keep going.

Luckily, there was a thicket of trees along your path that you could use for cover. You threw your bag down and flopped down with a heavy sigh. The ground was cold; it made you shiver. Your jeans weren’t enough to fight off the chill and you were shaking as you leaned against the tree to try and get some rest. Just an hour or two was all you would need before you could keep going.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour turned out to be…longer. You weren’t even necessarily sure how long it was, because when you woke up, it was with a start and a scream. You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. Your natural instinct was to fight off whoever it was and to defend yourself; Joel had taught you that much.

“Stop,” you were blindly flailing around and trying to get yourself free but the voice sounded familiar, “stop. It’s me - it’s me!”

You stopped suddenly and looked up to see who was there; when you realized it was him, you panicked all over again. Shaking your head, you tried crawling away, wanting to get as much distance between yourselves as possible. You can’t believe that he had found you, but then again, you really shouldn’t have been surprised. You were just more surprised that he bothered to come and find you. Part of you had never expected to see him again.

“No,” you looked at him with wide eyes and he hated the thought that he had done this to you. He was the reason that you had done this to yourself, “please, just leave me alone.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” alright, you’d quickly gone from worried and upset to mad. He really had the audacity to call you that? The man had some nerve, “just leave me alone.”

“Listen,” he crouched down so he was eye level with you, “you shouldn’t be out here. You’re going to freeze.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to hold back your shivers. You knew he was right, “just leave me alone.”

“Please, just-”

“No,” you hissed, “why are you even here? I thought you never wanted to see me again. You made that very clear.”

“Listen, I know I fucked up,” he pinched his brow and sighed heavily; he was only mad at himself, “but can you please just come with me right now? You need to get somewhere warm.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” almost as if your body wanted to betray you, a shiver ran down your spine and you trembled, “just go.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” he insisted, “you want to stay here? I’ll stay here too. But at least take my jacket-"

"Why are you here, Joel?" your eyes narrowed as you refused to take the jacket he was holding out to you, "why?"

"Can we do this later? Once we're back home," he really wasn't getting this. He was so smart most of the time but right now he was just…not quite comprehending.

"You don't get it," you shook your head incredulously, "there is no home. I'm not going back."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving," you clambered back to your feet, shaky and painfully, "I'm not going back with you. Why would I? There's no place for me there."

"Oh?" He learned your stubbornness and tenacity but right now he wished you'd just listen to him. Not that he deserved that much, but fuck. He just wanted you home, "and just where are you gonna go, huh?"

"Riviera," you waved him off as you started back towards the street, "and if that doesn't work out then I'll figure it out."

"That's another six hours away on horse," he sighed as he followed after you, "you'll never make it on foot."

"Why do you suddenly care?" you threw out your arms. You could see the horses and Ellie a short distance back. Your heart ached when you realized how much you'd miss her. And him, "I am nothing to you. You made that abundantly clear."

"I wasn't…fuck, I lied," he finally admitted it, his eyes finding yours, "I didn't mean it any of it."

"Then you shouldn't have said it," you threw back at him, "why did you say it?"

When he didn't say anything in response, you rolled your eyes and turned around, keeping your gaze on the horizon. He was wrong; you'd make it just to prove him wrong.

"Come back for Ellie," oh. He knew how to get to you, "please. She needs you. If nothing else, do it for her."

You stiffened, sore and tired and hungry and already missing her. Maybe you could go back just for a little while just for her…

"Fine," your voice was small as you turned around and pushed past him, "for her."

He closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh. As long as he knew you were safe, that was all that mattered.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few weeks since you'd come back. For Ellie. And nothing more. You hadn't said more than a few words to Joel, despite living in the same house. And despite his best efforts. He kept trying to talk to you but you weren't having it. You weren't ready yet, and to be honest, you weren't quite sure if you would ever be.

But there came a time when Joel couldn't take it anymore. If you were going to be mad and angry he wanted you to get it all out and be mad. He just couldn't handle the silence; it was brutal.

He caught you when you were in the kitchen and stood in the doorway, blocking your way out. You hadn't heard him at first but you could sense his presence, "hey."

You remained silent and kept drying the dishes. He came closer and his heart broke at how you recoiled from him, "don't."

"Can you just - we need to talk," he sighed gruffly, leaning against the counter. You tossed the towel down and shrugged your shoulders, "five minutes. Please."

"Why?" You asked, but when you didn't immediately run away he relaxed slightly, "I don't see what there could possibly be to talk about."

"Don't do that," he insisted softly, "you know there is plenty to talk about."

"I don't have anything to say to you," you moved to the opposite counter and mirrored his position, "I didn't think you'd have anything to say either. You made that very clear."

"I'm sorry," despite wanting to look away, you caught his eye. You almost wanted to see the lie written all over his face; but you couldn't find it, "I…I fucked up."

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, sighing softly, “you did. You really hurt me, Joel. It didn’t have to go that far, you didn’t have to be so…cruel. I just don’t get how you didn’t know how much I cared for you. You had to know, right? If you didn’t want me or didn’t want things to get as far as they did, you should have said so.”

“I knew,” he agreed, “I always knew.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” you already felt tears welling up in your eyes. You looked away and blinked rapidly to try and prevent them from spilling over, “why didn’t you just say something?”

“I didn’t want to-”

“Why not?!” you groaned, “it could have been so much easier. We wouldn’t be here right now!”

“I didn’t say anything because I felt the same!” as soon as the words fell out of his mouth, it became dead silent in the house. You could have a pin drop. “I felt the same way.”

“Felt?’ you asked quietly, “or feel?”

He paused for a moment and you could see the little bit of pink rising up in his cheeks, “feel.”

“Okay,” you nodded softly, staring at your feet, “so you felt and feel the same as I did. And then you told me you didn’t love me, that I was anything to you…we were nothing. That’s a pretty big disconnect.”

“I know this is going to sound stupid and maybe you won’t believe it, but it’s the truth,” you motioned for him to continue on, “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“By pushing me away?”

“By pushing you away,” he agreed, “I thought by doing that, I was doing you a favor. That way you wouldn’t feel stuck - with me. That way you had the chance to do what you wanted.”

“Stuck with you?” you echoed, your heart deflating slightly. You definitely would not have had this on your bingo card, “you think I felt like I was stuck with you?”

“Didn’t you?” He seemed more like a shy boy than a grown man at that moment.

“No,” you shook your head fervently, “of course not. I never once had that thought even cross my mind. I didn’t feel stuck - I wanted to be with you, Joel.”

“Oh,” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “oh?”

“Oh,” you snorted lightly in amusement, “I’m in love with you, in case that wasn’t clear. I never felt stuck or that I had to be with you. I wanted to be here.”

“I thought giving you a way out was the best thing,” he sighed softly, “I thought it would be easier if you hated me. That way you wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

“I never once wanted an out,” you promised, “I never wanted someone else. Never. It was always you, Joel.”

“And I fucked it up,” he concluded. You swallowed thickly; part of you wished you could be mad at him forever, the other part of you knew that was never possible. He pushed off the counter and nodded to himself, “well, that’s my five minutes. Thank you for um…for listening to me. Letting me explain.”

You watched him turn around - but you didn’t let him walk away.

You reached for his, fingers wrapping around his wrist as you stopped him, “wait.”

He had a shocked expression on his face as he turned to look at you. Part of him was sure that he’d imagined the moment, “what’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” your voice cracked as you tried not to cry already.

This time he didn’t hesitate for a moment, “yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed again, “do you….you want me to leave?”

“No,” he promised, “I don’t.”

“Good because I don’t want to leave,” you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that bubbled up, “so I guess I’ll stay. Even though I’m still kind of mad at you.”

“I deserve that much,” he exhaled shakily, “that’s fair.”

“But I also love you so I want to stay.”

His face lit up and you remembered all the reasons you’d fallen in love with him in the first place, “I love you.”

“Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Next time,” you whispered, “just talk to me, okay? We’ll figure things out, but we gotta do them together.”

“I promise,” and you knew he meant it, “I promise.”

“I promise too, Joel,” you squeezed his hand, “always.”

“Always.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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cassyxox · 1 year ago

Text

I’m so obsessed with the concept of bbf!ellie I had to make a little post..

Imagine bbf!ellie teaching you how to play guitar..18+

ur back pressed against her front..her fingers guiding ur’s to different strings. she would so tease you. letting out sweet little praises.

“see?..your gettin’ the hang of it..”

“ur doing so good I’m-…kinda surprised” she chuckled. making ur neck shiver. her face angled around you. watching from below.

you barely could even function with the way ellie was praising you everytime u did good.

but when u didn’t..she would grip ur wrist. rather softly. letting out a little “tsk tsk tsk” you on the other hand breathing out a small “ahh..” brows furrowed from the grip she had on u.

“wrong string babe..”

you looked back at her. “Im-..this is so hard”

“let me try again?..pleasee?”

studying her zoned out expression. you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. but then a smirk rose upon her freckled pretty face. green eyes back on yours. her right hand let go of your wrist. the ache slowly going away.

“how bout this?..” she spoke. wetting her lips. suddenly the feeling of her back non comforting anymore. she turned around facing you fully. pulling the guitar out of ur shaky arms.

“ellie what are you-“ you tried but she finished. “how about we play a little game?..” u rolled ur eyes.

what game could she possibly wanna play.

u scoffed. “ellie..we’re not 12 what are you saying?” but in the back of ur mind u were so nervous.

Ellie was a lot. well her mouth was. always leaving u in awe..whenever u were around her and your brother.

Like that one time where u were laying in bed. thinking about what ellie meant earlier when u sent a pic of you in a bikini to the gc with ur brother and her in it.

her response being a “yea I would..”

ur brother’s a short “ellie dude..chill fr”

whenever u had tried asking him later that night what she meant. he had brushed u off with a quick “nothing.”

leaving u to wonder in ur own thoughts all night.

but now..it was just you and her. in ur room.

ellie’s voice pulling u out of the daze. “I’m saying that if you—you know mess up..you have to do something for me..” u giggled. “uhh like what exactly?”

does she want like a hug or something?

“give me a kiss..on the lips.” u laughed even louder. “ellie ur not..being serious right?”

was she?

she smirked. “oh I’m being super serious (y/n)..or are you..”

she looked around the room. making a frightened expression.

“..scared?” u rolled ur eyes at her gesture. “uh..no it’s just a little strange..” u softly muttered out. looking everywhere but at her.

taking a glance at ur ring finger. then back up at her.

being met with a flirty smile? oh ellie…

“kay well..don’t make it strange—just think of it as a thank you for showing me how to play ur guitar kiss..you know?” she spoke eyeing the way ur lips were halfway open.

She just wanted to stick her-

“ok whatever.. I’ll do it” crossing ur arms you made eye contact with ellie. the smile on her face never faltering.

“alright..cmere” she grabbed her guitar watching u get situated very closely in front of her. your jeans scratching against hers.

she gave u her guitar. basically pushing it into ur arms.

“what do I do?..” questioning her antics. she smirked. a little pitch in her voice. “play me what I showed u earlier—the first part..small one.”

she’s doing this on purpose. u barely even remember the right strings. u were so focused on her fingers.

“ellie.” “just uhh—do it” her smile faltered.

“geez okay..” u muttered. rolling ur eyes. ur fingers gripped the strings. u slowly strummed trying so desperately to flick the right strings. u were sounding pretty good until..

“wrong string” u stopped.

“ellie that didn’t eve-“ “-it was the wrong string” she spoke quickly her voice never faltered.

“whatever..” u huffed pushing her guitar to the floor. “sooo..” u heard her giggle. “what about that kiss yea?” she really wanted a kiss.

“ellie can’t we just..hug or something?” u pleaded. her eyes boring into urs. “no u agreed to it so you kinda have to” she expressed. shrugging her shoulders. u groaned moving closer to her.

she had that stupid weird smile on her face.

“on the lips?” “yes (y/n)..” u sighed. leaning into her but she moved back. “ah ah ah..on my lap.”

u have got to be kidding me.

“ellie that’s so stupi-“ “—ur making this take way longer than it has to..cmon.” she groaned pulling u on top of her by ur hips.

why were u internally shaking.

“nice seat right” ellie teased. “oh my-shutup” she tapped ur hip with her finger patiently waiting. u sighed. leaning into her but this time she didn’t pull back. the warmth of her lips meeting urs. she groaned loudly but was muttered by your mouth. her grip on your hip tightened.

U were in a daze before u pulled back. lips wet from her warm ones. she patted ur hip.

“see..wasn’t so hard was it?” her raspy voice filling the now quiet room.

u shook ur head. trying to seem unfazed.

“guess not..” u spoke. moving from ur place on her lap. “soo..” “pick it back up we’re not done..” ellie said. her lips were plump.

her neck feeling hot for some reason.

u groaned. she stiffened. feeling rather flushed. thinking of her next demand. she really wanted to play with u.

“If u mess up this time u have to give me a kiss on the neck.. yea?” She tried to sound tall and proud. but the shakiness in her voice was heard.

u scoffed. “ellie cmon..what are you doing..” questioning her antics. “just playing a little game..why are you making this into something it doesn’t have to be”

she’s just playing a game. It’s not that serious. She’s just messing with me like she always does. u thought. your just reading to much into it.

“fine..” “okay then”

..2 minutes later..

“wrong string”

“ur so annoying-” “—what was that?” she grabbed the guitar pulling it away. “nothing..” u sighed. crawling toward her.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. u thought to urself. slowly angling ur head towards her neck..

ur breath hitting the pale flesh making her softly groan out. “don’t wet ur pants now..” u joked. “shutu-“ her raspy voice getting cut off by the feel of ur lips on her lonely neck. the feel of warmth suffocating her. u leaned in even closer. Tongue tracing over her skin. “ohh yea..” she softly spoke.

u inched back. looking at the little mark u left.

“so pretty..” u gazed up at her. a little smile on ur face.

“Imagine what my brothers gonna say” u laughed quietly. “yea imagine..” nervousness in her voice as she spoke. “you okay ellie?..was that to much?”

“no pick it back up.”

u were shocked with her next demand she wanted. “uhh— you have to kiss my stomach..o—on ur belly looking up at me.”

kinky.

it wasn’t surprising when u messed up again. maybe u we’re doing it on purpose. the whole ordeal was awkward and another feeling you couldn’t quiet think of. Ellie smiled down at you with such a heavy grin.

she wouldn’t fully admit it. but the sight of u on ur stomach touching her in such a way. was making her forget this was just a..game?

yes a game. she kept repeating in her head.

the game kept going. Ellie wanting u to kiss random places on her. until it got to the last one.

U were so close to finishing the whole piece. but ur stupid finger messed everything up.

“wrong string.” oh god.

u sat patiently waiting for her demand. but u didn’t think she would be this upfront.

“Put ur hand in my boxers..” ur eyes grew wide. ur fingers dug into ur hand. “el..”

“do it.” her jaw clenched. ur breathing was ragged. frantic. u could feel ur heartbeat out of ur chest..

u slowly approached ellie. how was she so calm?

u moved ur wrist from ur side. moving way to slow for her liking. “cmon unbutton em..s’not that hard” she leaned back on her elbows. giving space between her thighs.

u couldn’t even look at her. just so focused on getting her buttons undone.

once u finally did. Ellie pulled ur wrist under her dark jeans. ur hand was met with..was that..

“You feel that?..now take them off.”

oh this was gonna be a long night.

pics @elliesgalaxy🙏

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x yn #ellie #ellie x fem reader #lesbian

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ruporas · 1 year ago

Photo

post-trimax vash meets stampede wolfwood

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood of their Stampede versions. The comic starts with Wolfwood continuing off a conversation, saying “I didn’t mean t’say anythin’ bad to her. She just took it the wrong way. But anyway...” Wolfwood speaks with a hand gestured flippantly while Vash, who’s seated next to him, just listens. Vash thinks to himself, “Talks more about himself... Honest expressions... Immature, though he was pretty immature too.” He smiles and continues to think, “And yet...”

A panel of Vash’s eye directed now to the sky. He thinks, “Some things are bound to be the same with us...” He thinks of a memory, the version from Maximum of him and Wolfwood, back shown as they chatted underneath two moons, one moon with a hole through it. Vash continues, “Isn’t that right, W-“ His thoughts are interrupted by Wolfwood coming into a view, a close up his deadpan expression. Vash utters out “-olfwood..?” with a nervous expression. He starts to explain, “Um. Sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t listening, I was! So, let’s keep talking?”

Vash smiles and puts his hands together as he says, “okay?” Wolfwood glares at him with gritted teeth and Vash immediately remembers, “Right, he’s more short-tempered...” He continues to think, “Maybe Plan B works with him—“ before he’s grabbed by his coat collar aggressively and changes thoughts, “OK, never mind, brace for impact..!” But he’s surprised when he’s tugged instead, him and Wolfwood flops against the ground. Wolfwood puts an arm over Vash and says, “I don’t need to be entertained, blondie. If yer tired, we can go to sleep.”

Two close up panels of Wolfwood and Vash’s eyes looking at each other, Wolfwood taking off Vash’s glasses as he says, “Am I wrong?” Vash thinks to himself, “Actually... I was being genuine when I said I wanted to keep talking. I don’t feel tired at all. But, I think you know this body more than I do.”

Vash’s thoughts continue, “I can’t deny the me you’re fond of from being taken care of. And I could never deny your kindness. Even though...” Vash finally smiles and says, “You’re not wrong...” Wolfwood smiles back before tugging Vash closer and says, “Then, let’s sleep.” Vash asks, “Should we get a blanket?” Wolfwood asks, “Why?” before kissing Vash on the cheek, “I’ll keep you warm.” Vash puts his face into both his hands and flushes. Wolfwood smiles cheekily and asks, “What?” Vash responds, “I was caught off guard..” Wolfwood says, “You’ve said worse though.” Vash responds, “Did I...” The panel phases out and the dialogue returns to Vash’s thoughts. He thinks, “I want to stay a bit longer. Talk a bit longer.

You’re tired here too. The future is always going to be unfair to you. I want to protect you from it. I want to hold you close so you won’t go far.” The thoughts overlap the scene of Wolfwood now sleeping peacefully against Vash with an arm over him, Vash’s jacket draped against him as a blanket. Vash looks at him and a small thought bubble thinks, “He can fall asleep first...” His previous thoughts continue, “I know I can’t. I already had that chance.” A close up of Vash putting his hand over Wolfwood’s. He continues, “I wasn’t capable once, I can’t be sure I’d be capable a second time. And in a way...”

Vash’s thoughts continue with the back drop of the sky, Stampede’s sky of two moons without holes, “Some things are bound to be the same. But I know you’ll be loved again and again in a way I’d never know.” A split panel, one half contains the sleeping face of Wolfwood from Stampede, the other of Wolfwood from Trimax. In turn, the Vash lying down looking fondly at Wolfwood shifts to the post Trimax Vash while the other versions, Stampede and earlier Trimax, are faintly drawn next to him doing the same. Vash closes his eyes and finally drifts to sleep as the final text reads, “Goodnight, Wolfwood.”

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #trimax spoilers #was thinking damn havent done the crossovers in awhile. doodled a bunch of fluff crossover stuff and somehow #this is the one i finish dmgkg in the same vein ive been thinking a lot about the time loop au which #i also like but one thing about it that always made me wonder is vash's interference and his willingness to interfere #not to say he's a believer of fate or anything -- im a firm believer that if vash had a chance to do it again knowing what he knew he'd #obviously do things differently -- but not in the i'll solve everything for you way but in the #let's spend less time arguing and be #happier while we still got the time to #trigun universe is always going to be brutal to the both of them <pensive> but anyway to be a little kinder to him i just #let him swap for a day or so with stampede vash... maybe granted the chance to stay but vash would never do that to Himself. and #in the end thats not the wolfwood he knew. no miguel o'hara-ing this #also he nor us know if stamp ww would go thru the same fate :']!#ruporas art #trigun

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knavesflames · 6 months ago

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hiii I really really love your writing and i just read your post about insecure reader x arlecchino ! 🫶 i was wondering if you would be willing to write something similar but with a reader insecure about the opposite, being too feminine/curvy like having wide hips, a tummy and big thighs, it's ok if not tho, thank you for reading 💗

Of course!! As a curvy gal myself I can resonate with this HARD. There aren’t super many who write curvy reader (and the ones who do slay, btw) so I am more than happy to write this. I’ve actually been excited for this ever since I received this ask.

Contents: insecure curvy reader, arlecchino being arlecchino, fluff with a hint of sadness sprinkled in

Word count: 1120

Writing utc!

Having dragged Arlecchino along to a lunch with your friends, you’d think you’d be happier than you are right now. Arlecchino is not like your friends in the slightest, them laughing and talking loudly with playful slaps on each other's arm as they melt in hysterical laughter. You suppose that is why Arlecchino zeroes in you and your behaviour now. Arlecchino is usually the quiet one, cracking a small smirk at a joke or huffing in laughter occasionally, you being the bridge between hysterically happy and Arlecchino’s level of calm. And yet, there you sit, poking the small salad leaves with your fork, a miserable expression on your face.

She frowns, glancing over at the plates of your friends. Pasta, focaccia, a burger.. why on earth do you have a salad? One that doesn’t even look good, of all things. Her foot moves to nudge you under the table.

“Eat. There is almost nothing on your plate and you look miserable. Shall I go and order more for you?”

You’re quick to deny her offer, a little too quick for Arlecchino’s liking, if she’s honest. She watches you for the rest of the lunch, watching how you smile and say you’re too stuffed to get dessert. She gives you a pointed look when you say that. She says nothing, but somehow you know that she’s not about to let this go.

You both walk home at a leisurely pace in comfortable silence. Feeling the slightest of breezes against your skin and listening to the afternoon birds chirping relaxes you, and it’s always a pleasure to walk through the town. Arlecchino’s arm snakes around you, resting gently on your hip. A silent gesture, but one she does often, one you usually enjoy.

“Don’t.”

The word pierces through the air as you shrug her arm off, continuing to walk in silence. Her eyes focus on you again, your face holding the same miserable look, like you’re about to burst into tears. Her brow creases and she folds her arms over her chest, her tone almost accusatory. Almost.

“What has gotten into you, love? You do not wish for my touch, you did not eat, you lied to your friends.”

“No—“

“If you say “nothing”, I swear to the Tsaritsa I will sit you down and not let you move until you tell me.”

You both walk the rest of the way home in tense silence, her words simmering. You know she isn’t joking, she would. She has done it once before, and it was the longest hour of your life. Of course, she only means well, but sometimes her ways of showing it can be a little.. tricky. You’re home before long, sliding the keys into the door and shutting it with a small click. You know you have approximately five seconds before—

“Tell me. You have not eaten except about five salad leaves, it is 4pm, your clothes are unusually baggy for your taste. Unless you plan on turning into a rabbit, you will tell me what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

Her stare is unwavering, piercing through you in a way that would make anyone shudder and run away. You are not afraid, you know how soft she really is, at least around you, but you know you can’t put off telling her any longer.

“They are smaller than I am.”

“What? You are slightly taller than them, yes. What is wrong with that?”

“No. Not like that. They’re just.. smaller. Smaller breasts, smaller hips, smaller thighs. I don’t understand why I have to be this way.”

You mutter, gesturing to your body, hidden under the clothes. They are indeed baggy, chosen quickly when you glanced at yourself in the mirror this morning. She is silent for a while, clearly pondering. Arlecchino has a tendency to be blunt, a little too blunt, and it’s obvious she’s trying to soften her words.

“That is true. That does not make you any less beautiful. You are very feminine. I enjoy that.”

You stare at the floor, sniffling a little. It takes her a few seconds to realise you are crying, albeit trying to hide it to the best of your ability. But she is vigilant, she knows. She always knows.

“It is not a bad thing to have the body you have. You are healthy, you just have curves. Many people have surgery to get what you have naturally.”

“They can have it. I don’t want them.”

“Stop. I do not want to hear this nonsense. It is ridiculous. You..”

She walks behind you, pressing her lips to the nape of her neck. You swat her hand away when it brushes your arm, but she tuts and brings it back, gently caressing the skin.

“You are stunning. Your breasts are perfect. They are full and I can hold them in my hands just right. If I must admit, they are good to lay on. They are soft, and they move with your breathing.”

Her hands move, tracing the outline of your breasts through the baggy shirt. She traces a heart before she moves downwards.

“Your hips are beautiful. They are wonderful to hold, both when I come up behind you while you back, and while you are on top of me doing things only we speak about. And, they will be perfect, should we have a child.”

“Your stomach is wonderful. I enjoy massaging it, kissing it, and it may or may not be a weakness of mine when you wear those lovely dresses I know you own.”

Arlecchino’s hands gently knead the skin of your stomach as your tears slowly come to a stop. You can’t help but feel a little better knowing that the person you love finds you just as attractive as you hope she would.

“Your thighs, my god. They are so plush and you know how I love nipping at them, leaving pretty marks only you can see. I love feeling them next to either side of my head, feeling them clench around my head when.. well, you are aware, are you not? Having curves does not make you any more or less of a woman than someone with less curves than you. You are perfect the way you are.”

A small smile graces your face, a smile that always makes her warm inside, though not once will she admit it. She returns a smile of her own. Rare, but genuine.

“I will make you pasta. You will eat it. There is no argument.”

You groan, following her to the kitchen, though you attempt to hold back a giggle when you speak.

“Arlecchino, you.. you lack in the cooking area.”

“Did I ask?”

#knavesflames #arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino fluff #arlechinno genshin #genshin impact #arlechinno x reader #arle #genshin x reader #genshin wlw #genshin fanfic #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin impact #genshin impact arlecchino

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aplaceinme · 1 month ago

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[Kind of a coda for episode 4, season 8; Tommy's POV. Additional information: Lucy Donato appears; as well as two original characters.] You can also read it on AO3

The popcorn sails through the air and then neatly falls inside Lucy’s mouth. Her eyes dance with mirth as she watches Tommy pace back and forth in the hangar.

“What’s up with him?” Julia says as she approaches the table where Lucy and Matt are sitting.

Lucy, who had briefly turned to look at her, goes back to watching Tommy.

Tommy is still pacing, listening intently to whatever it is that the person on the phone is saying. One side of his hair, the one he keeps messing up every time he passes his fingers through it, is completely dishevelled and the expression on his face is one of worry and frustration.

“Buckley called him,” Matt replies, stealing some of Lucy’s popcorn.

Playfully swatting his shoulder with a noise of protest, Lucy then says, “Knowing Buck, I’m gonna guess that he did something impulsive on a call and now it’s telling Tommy all about it in full detail.”

“That explains why he looks as if he is having an aneurysm,” Julia chuckles while grabbing the bowl of popcorn from Lucy’s clutches.

Matt looks expectantly at Lucy. When nothing happens, he pointedly looks at Julia, the bowl, and then Lucy.

“She can have them. I like her better.”

“Hey!” Matt yelps. “That’s so rude.”

While Julia looks at them amused, Lucy shrugs her shoulders pretending to be unmoved but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips gives her away.

The three of them sit up straighter when they hear footsteps approaching and watch in silence as Tommy sits up in the only chair left, carelessly throwing his phone on the table and sighing in defeat.

“Everything ok?” Lucy asks him, at the same time that Julia offers him popcorn.

Grabbing a handful, Tommy tells them with a sarcastic tone, “Oh yes, everything is fine. Just, you know, they had a call of a tiger attacking someone. And there was obviously no time to call animal control, so Evan had to walk into the apartment hoping that a sedative would work.”

By the time he finished talking, his volume had increased and he had ended up dropping all the popcorn from his hands from all his wild gesturing.

“Well, did it work?” Matt asks

“Yes,” Tommy admits. “But that’s not the point!”

“And what is the point?” Julia asks while sharing a look of glee with Lucy.

“The point is that they are all so reckless,” Tommy thumps his fist onto the table. “I mean, last week he fucking tried to stop traffic on the highway with just some flares, right after stealing a firetruck from a TV show set, by the way!”

Matt is biting his lip so hard that Lucy fears that he will start to bleed soon, while Julia's shoulders shake with her silent laughter. Lucy is not faring any better, her amusement hard to contain.

Since they know that nothing bad happened, it’s easy to laugh about it. Besides, the irony is just too big for them to not make fun of Tommy.

Crossing her arms on the table, Lucy looks at Tommy and asks him, “Weren’t you the one who stole a helicopter with all of them despite the fire chief's orders?”

“Yeah… I seem to remember that. Didn’t you have to fly over a hurricane?” Matt adds.

“And it was all based on a hunch, right?” Julia continues, snapping her fingers at Tommy.

“That was different,” Tommy huffs.

“Because…?”

All three of them stare expectantly.

“Because I was there. He could get seriously hurt and I won’t know until he is in the hospital, or worse.”

Lucy exchanges looks with Matt and Julia. Neither of them is dating first responders, so they can’t fully relate to that all-consuming worry of getting a phone call telling you that the person you love had an accident while on duty. But they are first responders themselves, they care about their team and it is always possible that one of them will get hurt. That feeling, they can understand.

That’s why Julia pokes Tommy’s temple and says, “You are getting grey hairs there, my friend.”

Tommy sighs in annoyance and eats a handful of popcorn. “Isn’t there any cake?”

Matt laughs but brings him a cupcake that Lucy knows for sure he was saving for himself to eat once their shift ended.

Lucy gives Matt a thankful smile, making him blush.

Looking in slight disgust as Tommy devours his fears with the cupcake, Lucy decides to be serious for a minute.

“Look, Buckley is an incredibly capable firefighter. The entire 118 are, and you saw how they have each other’s back. It’s normal to get worried but he will be fine.”

Tommy swallows hard and nods. “I know, I know that. But I can’t help but worry about him, even though I know how amazing and wonderful he is.”

“Now, he is getting all sappy. I shouldn’t have given him my last cupcake,” Matt jokes.

Grabbing some popcorn, Tommy throws it at him, and they all laugh.

Slowly, Tommy’s shoulders start to loosen up, and he looks more relaxed.

Lucy smiles, and thinks about how they will probably continue to tease him for the rest of the shift.

—

“My coworkers say ‘hello’,” Buck hears as soon as he enters Tommy’s place.

Following the smell of meat cooking and the noise of the sink, Buck goes to the kitchen, where he finds Tommy cooking them dinner.

“Oh, no! What did they do?” Buck asks. “You only refer to them as coworkers when you’re mad at them.”

Tommy turns off the burner and approaches him while looking him up and down.

“They were being annoying,” Tommy says deadpan. “I might hate them.”

“You love them, actually,” Buck says, shaking his head.

When Tommy is closer enough, Buck leans in to greet him with a kiss but Tommy instead grabs Buck’s arms and keeps looking him up and down.

“What are you doing?” Buck pouts.

“Making sure that you don’t have a scratch on you,” Tommy explains while walking in a circle around Buck.

“Oh my god! I told you I’m fine,” Buck huffs, but he secretly loves it. Having someone be worried about him feels amazing. “And? What’s the verdict then?”

Stopping in front of Buck, one of Tommy’s hands goes up to his face and his pointed finger taps his chin.

“Hmm… I can’t say for sure. A more thorough inspection is required.”

Tommy gets closer and takes off Buck’s shirt.

“Let’s see now,” Tommy says, doing another circle around Buck. “This is not enough. This just won’t do. The inspection is still incomplete.”

Buck smiles at Tommy’s playful nature, loving that he gets to see this side of him.

Walking closer again, Tommy goes for Buck’s trousers. He takes off the belt and it makes a clunk sound when it hits the floor.

Without taking their eyes off each other and maintaining eye contact, Tommy pops off the button of Buck’s trousers and slowly moves the zip down.

Out of his trousers, Tommy does one more circle around Buck. “Everything seems to be alright. No scratches, no bruises.” Tommy says with a smirk. “You’ll be glad to know that you have just passed the inspection.”

“That’s good to know, but I think you forgot to check an essential part.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Tommy asks, barely able to contain his smile.

Instead of answering, Buck takes off his boxers.

“You’re right, how could I forget?”

Buck shrugs his shoulders and flexes his arms, enjoying this game.

“You know? I think that this will require a much closer inspection,” Tommy says hungrily.

“Oh, I definitely agree,” Buck growls, and grabs Tommy in a fireman's carry, taking him straight into their bedroom.

Their dinner can wait, they have more important things to do. Their dinner can wait, they have more important things to do.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #kinley #tevan #i don't know if julia and matt will appear in my writing again #but in my mind i'm between lucy and julia being together #or the three of them forming a throuple

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