#I was boring again this year but at least I have An Art for you all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rhaenella · 9 days

Text

LN4 | Challenge Accepted

pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader

genre: one shot ✿

summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…

word count: 5.6k

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.

Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was.

Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.

After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by.

“Y/N?”

The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.

“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”

“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.

“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”

“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”

Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”

Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”

He wavered. “That would be…”

“Genius?”

“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same.

“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed.

Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way.

“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”

Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…”

You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him.

“Wait!”

He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.

“Nice.”

Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.

“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”

You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?

The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.

Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it.

You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery.

Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.

“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide.

Well, there was your authorisation.

You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe.

The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall.

Holy… beep.

Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.

“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”

You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”

It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.

Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”

You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”

You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.

“Jarv?”

He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not it,” you trailed off.

“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”

“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”

“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”

“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”

You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”

“No.”

Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.

You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver.

And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.

“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons.

The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides.

“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”

***

“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors.

They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.

Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”

Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod.

“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder.

It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.

“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.

“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”

“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.

Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”

He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.

The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.

“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?

“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.

Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”

Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”

Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.

Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next.

Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.

What the hell?

He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less.

So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…

“What do we have here?”

You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration.

“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”

“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”

Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”

“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”

You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.

“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled.

Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still…

“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.

“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”

Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well.

“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”

Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”

Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”

“What is? Gambling?”

“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”

“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.

Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.

“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”

“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”

Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”

“Well, sweetheart…”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing.

Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.

Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.

“You know what? I’m in.”

With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind.

Lando’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”

Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.

“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.

“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”

“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.

Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.

She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground.

“Hold on. We can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Lando sighed. “You know why.”

Did they? Did he?

Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two?

He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way.

He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that.

So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…

Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?

Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.

He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare.

“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”

“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”

“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.

“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.

Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter.

“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”

“Y/N… are you sure you want to…”

He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.

“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”

That struck the intended chord.

Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought.

You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.

Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”

At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.

“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”

“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”

“You clocked the only lap time.”

You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”

“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”

Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.

Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.

The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.

“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice.

Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”

He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”

“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”

Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.

“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”

“Shut up,” Lando snapped.

“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely.

“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”

You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.

Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”

“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”

On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track.

“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”

The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.

“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”

Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.

You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.

“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”

“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.

“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”

Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath.

You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.

Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?

“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”

“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”

Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.

“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”

Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.

You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.

Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”

Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.

“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished.

You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.

“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!”

Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.

“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”

“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.

“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”

You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”

He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you.

Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.

Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”

Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.

Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”

“Ha-ha, very funny…”

Although, you really did.

Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.

As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”

Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.

You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”

Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car.

When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.

He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”

“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.”

You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.

She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”

***

a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored.

by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!

also posted on ao3

621 notes · View notes

littlemspeachy · 21 days

Text

Crazy To Love You

(Feyd x Reader)

Summary: You hated him. You hated his planet. You were the sun and the stars. Of warmth and gold. Yet, for some reason, you do find black appealing.

Note: While this is a reader insert, there are mentions of brown skin, but other than that, it's fairly neutral

Warnings: 18+ content near the end but nothing explicit, mentions of blood and use of the word whore.

Word Count: 2.35K

Part II

---------

Everyone said there was something complex about him. About the man you were about to marry. In her opinion, there was nothing complex about the man. He was easy to figure out and it didn't take a shrink to realize that. He was violent and cold. Obsessed with blood and the cries of a man he knew he was about to kill.

He was nothing special and yet here you were getting ready to get sent away.

"You are to marry him." Lady Jessica coolly responded while she watched your maids put the finishing jewelry into your hair and bodice.

You stared at her from the reflection of your vanity mirror.

"You don't get better than this. You're a daughter of your fathers' whore-" She started angrily.

"Get out of my head. The least you could do is that." You snapped before the Reverend Mother walked through the door.

"I don't understand how you managed to raise such a disobedient child," The older woman dragged.

"And child I don't understand how you could be so stupid." She said smacking you on the back of your head.

You sighed and stared at yourself in the mirror before applying lining your lips with a soft brown and filling the rest of the empty space with a dark red. And no, you weren't stupid to not know what was going on. Lady Jessica messed up and bore a son and so in the eyes of the Reverend Mother, you were the best choice. You were still of the Duke's blood and by marrying the na-baron and producing an heir you would bring the houses together and create a perfect union. You knew this, you knew this ever since you came of age. You knew it more and more in every etiquette lesson.

Raised like cattle for slaughter. Or not slaughter but more so for breeding.

A knock on your chambers broke you from your thought process, you looked to your door to see your brother peek into the room.

"He's here."

You sent the young man a small smile before standing and heading out with Lady Jessica and the Reverend.

Your ladies-in-waiting walked silently behind you with your luggage in hand. They too knew of the rumors of the man you were bound to marry. The grotesque nature of his uncle and family.

The warmth of the sun warmed your skin, but it didn't seem to reach past it. You had known these halls all your life. Stared at the paintings and art that decorated the walls. You'll miss the yellow of the sun that allowed your brown to become even richer in the warmer months.

When you were younger your nursed like to joke that if there were goddesses you had to have been the child of the sun. Unfortunately, today proved that no such being existed because why would she curse her child to a polluted waste land with a sun as black as night.

They arrived at large doors to the negotiation room. Guards of both families lining the walls. You followed the two older women into the room while your ladies-in-waiting stayed outside.

You sat next to Paul and across from your husband to be.

Feyd was... Not stunned no. Not amused either. He had heard about you as a child and adolescent and even met you at some point in those years. Yet here he was, intrigued. You looked almost entirely out of place and in place at the same time. He could tell you were strong willed, but then again, any man in the room could tell that.

You sat with your back straight and head high. Your eye's moved to each person as they spoke.

As much as he would never admit it. You were beautiful. Not seductive, not sensual. You were beautiful. You're skin complimentary to the gold in your hair and the gold threads in your bodice. Your skin shined in the lazy afternoon sun. Your lips plump and decorated in red. You were stunning.

"Then it is settled. You two will be wed by the next full moon," Feyds uncle rasped, a greedy smile upon his lips while he stared at you intently.

"Come it is getting late and we must make our way back. Have her maids put her items on our ship. There's to be a solar disturbance. And I don't want to be here longer than I need to, this heat is starting to annoy me."

You swallowed intensely. "No."

All eyes snapped to you. Feyd tilted his head slightly to the side in curiosity. 'A fighter' he mused. This should be interested.

"I have never been Giedi Prime, and since I am to be married in a week, I would like my family to join me, a proper wedding, and an introduction to your culture and customs. There is more than enough time to organize my request." You stared at the two leading men at the table. Inside you were shaking and fearing the worse. While you still had enough status to marry into a High Family, it didn't take away the fact that you were born out of wedlock. But fortunately, your voice stayed strong and didn't betray your nerves.

Lady Jessica started to open her mouth to reprimand her but was cut off by laughter. Well, it was more of a bark but humor present, nonetheless.

"I agree to your terms, child." Feyd's uncle said staring at you.

"I do not understand." Lady Jessica muttered staring at you in horror.

"This will either be the greatest match in all the high families. Or the worst thing to come from your House."

You bite the inside of your cheek, jaw flaring. The handshakes and contracts were signed.

You walked silently and quickly to the informal meeting place of your home. Maids scrambling to get other items for your family and to leave promptly. Lady Jessica hot on your tail and delivered a quick slap to your face when you turned around.

"How dare you embarrass us like this."

"Not to intrude on family... matters... But as she is my bride, I'd prefer if you don't leave marks on her. That should be my job soon enough." A voice said boredly.

She whipped her head to look behind her and stared at the pale man behind her. Before gritting her teeth, giving a small curtsy and walking out quickly.

"It's impolite for us to be together without a chaperone." You stated. Eyes following his every move. You didn't trust him. How could you? He was a bloody murder, that craved blood and bones. You would consider him uncivilized if it wasn't for the fact that he came from a royal bloodline.

"Hmm, you see something you like?"

You squeezed your dress in your hand to stop you from being annoyed and rolling your eyes.

"You know I heard you were sweet. Demure. But you seem to like a fight."

"A fight that was not, my lord. Just a request. I am to be whisked away to a place where I am nobody and have no rights outside of you. So yes, requesting my family and have a civil wedding, is the most basic request."

He gave you a smirk. Him slowly getting close to you, almost like a snake. "You sure are mouthy, I hope it's the same on our wedding night." He whispered, closely to your ear.

His hot breath sending a chill up your spine. You watched him walk past you to the window. He was incredibly pale and hairless. No blemish or scar in sight. Was that genetics or cosmetic you would never know. How dark was it on his planet to make someone so pale? Paul was pale, but his skin warmed and tanned during the warmer months.

You glowed in the sun; you understood the sun. The sun gave light, it gave colors. A black sun... Would strip things of light. Nothing exists in a sun like that.

The reality of your situation started to bare its weight on your shoulders. You knew why they needed the marriage to work, you knew why you needed to produce an heir. It would create an alliance forged in blood, it would tie your two kingdoms together and prevented them from going to war. It would protect your kingdoms economy and exports. But why a place so cold in dark. How were you to live? To raise a child or children. How were you going to raise your children. With dreams and fantasies of a kingdom they'll never know. Shall they become their father? Murderous and craving madness and death?

You let in a deep breath, to help settle you. You were to be married and have a child. That's it. You were raised to do so and do it you will. Nothing more, nothing less.

"We are ready for departure your majesties." A voice rang through the room.

You nodded at the man before taking a look back at Feyd and realizing that he's been staring at you the whole time.

The next few days were spent learning about their "castle", which in your opinion was a bland fortress meant to keep people out and in. The days were spent watching bloody sparring matches in preparation for his big fight and preparing for the wedding.

Skin was cleaned and body was scrubbed clean. Herbs and foods to increase fertility feed three times a day. Lessons on how to "please a man" in way too much detail. Nothing like what you expected your wedding day to look like. When you were younger you imagined white dresses and days of getting to know your soon to be husband by the waves. Intimate and flushed glances at each other over dinner. Excitement and butterflies. And all there was to greet you was darkness. Black suns and pale heads greeted you at every corner. You prayed your child you look more like you. Or at least a mix.

You woke up to the sound of your sun alarm. You're glad you brought it with you. It imitated actual sun light and reminded you of home and warmth. You cuddled back into the pillows when you realized your maids weren't there. Breakfast and a long intensive bath could wait. You hardly did anything and yet had intensive baths every morning and night. After five days you were surprised, you had any skin left.

Feyd watched you silently doze off again, perched away in a corned you have not seem to realize. He chuckled lightly at the last time you fully conversed. 'Not polite.' What he was going to do in one days' time wouldn't be very polite to her parents either.

He watched you as you walked softly to the vanity you had set up in your room. It was simply a desk and a small mirror, but it worked for what it was. For what you had access too.

You hummed lightly to yourself as you took your scarf off your head and took out the rollers. The maids given to you had no idea what they were doing when it came to your hair. It was the last thing that you had for yourself... Only yourself.

Feyd walked over silently, almost leaning down to your ear whipping backwards and grabbing your wrist.

No words were said, outside of the sound of heavy breathing.

The two of you stared intensely at each other before the man's eyes wondered over to the knife in your hand. Sharp and ready to sink into the next victim.

He raised what you assumed would've been a brow if he wasn't hairless.

"Did you intend to kill me."

"It didn't matter if it was you. The knife was intended for whomever decided to get that close to me without out announcing themselves." You spat.

He smirked at you, "So you do know how to take care of yourself."

"My father didn't raise a stupid damsel."

"Very clearly he didn't."

You two stared at each other before he went and bite your collarbone. A guttural groan coming from his throat as he smelt your rose body oils from the night before.

You gasped, shocked, your hand dropping the knife and your body arching towards his. A surprising mix of sharp pain and pleasure dancing through your body to your fingertips.

"I thought you hated me?" He whispered grabbing your chin and forcing you to keep eye contact.

Truth be told as much as you hated his home, his planet, the whole preparation of practically being wedded purely for alliance reasons. You got used to the idea of being his.

He was smart and quick on his feet. Intelligent and willing to amuse your intellectual ideas. He let you fight him and berate him when you were alone. He guarded you and defended you. And he was taken with you the moment he met you. Many women were raised to be obedient, silent, and just take what was given to them. If he was going to become the Baron one day he'd need a woman that was going to raise his children to be strong. Your union was perfect, anything that he lacked you had.

"I hate you invading my space. If you wanted to come you could've asked or at least told me." You stated. A terrible and needy heat starting to fill your body.

He smirked at you before crashing your lips together. Teeth and tongue clashing in a battle of dominance. His hands threading through your hair and yours finally getting the relief of feeling his body.

You broke away to breath, head being lifted by the upwards pull of your hair.

"I would love to continue this but, this is impolite, remember." He said breathlessly, backing up slowly.

You stared back at him. Becoming painfully aware of the want in your core and the electricity running through your body needing release.

"Fuck you."

Feyd laughed at your temper tantrum before leaving your room and leaving you to deal with the mess he started.

#fanfic #dune x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x you #black reader

200 notes · View notes

dittanyinbloom · 1 year

Text

Note Taking

Ominis Gaunt x fem!MC (there is only one gendered term in the very last line). 1.8k. No specific house. Fluff and a bit of MC embarrassing themselves.

Based on this post I made about having HoM with Ominis.

.💕✍🏻💕

“In today’s lesson, we will cover a truly thrilling event. . .,” Professor Binns had just started class, but half the students were already dozing off.

It was widely accepted that History of Magic was merely used as a free period. Whether that meant catching up on sleep or doing last minute homework for another class, one thing was certain: no one paid attention. Attendance hardly mattered since Professor Binns rarely ever engaged with the class directly. In fact, you would bet he didn’t even know a single students name or even the exact year. Everyday he floated into class, discussed whatever curriculum he felt like, then drifted off through the wall to his office at the end of the period without so much as a goodbye.

To say the least, it was no one’s favorite subject, that is, except you. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you practically skipped to your afternoon slot of History of Magic. With all the extracurriculars other professors sent you on, and the adventures you went on without their knowledge, you were elated to have time set aside for assignments and catching up on some sleep. Those horrible demiguise statues Mr. Moon asked you to find were really taking a toll on you lately.

Perhaps the most exciting part of class was that you didn’t share it with Sebastian Sallow. Now, he was a very lovely boy for helping you out on multiple excursions, but his presence could be intense at times. This could be simply fixed by spending time with your other friends. Natty, Poppy, and even Amit were great company and just as, if not even more helpful than Sebastian. But that boy had one thing drawing you back every day to meet up. .

Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian’s right hand man and arguably his moral compass. Oh, how you would spend hours practicing spells with Sebastian in the Undercroft for the smallest chance that Ominis would walk in to study, or have a chat, or sometimes even join in on the dueling. That was the only time you ever saw him without his school robes. Neatly folding up his sleeves and grinning like a mad man when he landed a blow on Sebastian, who as of late, rather deserved a few jinxes thrown his way.

History of Magic was the only class Ominis sat beside you in. It was hardly the place to make conversation since even the softest of whispers would be heard by the extremely bored students around you. Nevertheless, you were content with just sitting beside him and admiring his lazy smile as he drifted off into what was probably his fourth nap of the day.

That was one of the first odd quirks you had noticed about the boy. While you ran around the castle from one fool’s errand to the next, you often passed by Ominis lounging about on benches, windowsills, and most often the floor. Sometimes he was snacking or working on revisions, but more often than not the boy was merely napping, just out in the open, where anyone could step on him. The first few times, you had gently woken him up and offered to help him to his common room, but he always acted as though you were the strange one for not letting him sleep in the middle of a hallway in the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

Now whenever you saw him, you hummed in endearment and graciously covered him with your scarf as a makeshift blanket. You used to have an array of scarves, but now half of them were likely stuffed in a trunk deep in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory, never to be seen again. It was a small price to pay, in your eyes.

“Seb told me to tell you to meet us in the library after classes,” Ominis said as he leaned forward on the desk, getting in a comfortable napping position.

“Does he think you’re an owl?” You teased.

“Something about you being more likely to say yes if it comes from me.”

“I see,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear how flustered you had become. “So he’s scheming again?”

“You say again as if he quit to begin with.”

“Well, you know I can’t say no to an adventure.”

“Exactly why the two of you will be the death of me. Wake me up if anything crazy happens?”

Nothing ever would, at least, not while all the other students that usually caused trouble were sleeping as well. You dated your parchment for notes then began doodling to stay awake. As of late, the professors had been elated with your progress and stopped giving you so much extra work. Not much catching up needed to be done since most other students couldn’t take on a troll alone and live to tell the tale.

Your eyes wandered to study the pretty moles Ominis had scattered about his face and neck. The unhinged, love stricken part of your brain desperately wanted to draw little love hearts or flowers around them. Your fingers twitched, but you controlled your urges and drew hearts all over your notes instead. This was turning into a common occurrence. Most of your history notes contained one or two key points from Binns, a few random drawings, and many iterations of your deskmate’s name scribbled about. At the top corner of every parchment you would even write your name with his last name along with the date. And oh, how the two went so well together.

The period flies by while you daydream of holding Ominis’ hand or kissing his beauty marks as the two of you part ways. The sound of students scuffing their chairs in the worn wood flooring brings you back to reality. You tap Ominis on the shoulder. For a moment your hand lingers, drifting between his shoulder blades.

“Ominis, class has ended.”

“Already?” His voice was almost a whine which was strange because most students jumped at the opportunity to leave history class.

“Don’t sound too disappointed. Binns might offer to go on for another hour if he knows a student is willing to stay.”

You had one more class before meeting the boys in the library. Sebastian seemed to be awaiting your arrival, spotting you the moment you walked in, and waving you up to join them on the second floor. As you greeted them, you set your scarf and robes on the back of the chair.

“You really do need to come by our room and grab your scarves,” Sebastian commented. “They’re taking over.”

“Hmm, yes. I am missing quite a few at this point.”

The culprit, though it wasn’t entirely his fault since you were the one always covering up his sleeping form, went pink at the mention of scarves. Despite looking as though he wanted to add to the conversation, he quickly went back to writing the twelve inches for Sharp’s latest assignment.

“So, Sallow, why have you dragged me here today? Are we going treasure hunting again?”

“Sorry, little adventurer, today’s request is rather boring in comparison. Thought it would be a good time to start revising for O.W.L.s, and I need help in History of Magic. I’ve managed to fall asleep every single period since the start of term. . Quite impressive if you ask me.”

“Don’t know why you thought to ask me. I hardly pay attention in that class.”

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “But, Ominis said he can hear you writing notes all period.”

Your eyes flicker to Ominis almost in a look of betrayal. He seemed as focused as ever on writing, either exuding an excellent poker face or genuinely not showing any interest in being mentioned by Sebastian. Quickly, you swallowed down your own emotions and insisted, “Well, sorry. My notes for that class are very scattered. I mostly just draw to keep myself awake.”

“Anything would help. I honestly don’t even know what we’re meant to be learning about. Nellie heard there might be a quiz next week. My uncle can not hear about my grades slipping on top of everything else.”

Seeing the innocent look of terror on Sebastian’s face made you melt a bit. In his defense, he didn’t know you made a fool of yourself by doodling his best friends name across your parchment twice a week. He was just asking for notes, which was something the three of you often shared.

“I can. . read them to you?” You compromised.

Both boys gave you an odd look, but Sebastian agreed without much hesitation given how desperate he was.

“Suppose I should be writing this down too, if there really is a quiz coming up,” Ominis said with a grimace.

You unrolled your parchment and began to read. Both boys studiously jotted down every word. Hopefully you were explaining everything accurately. There were clearly periods in your notes where you had dozed off between key moments, but unless Binns was looking for his exact wording on the quiz, the three of should should be able to pass.

“It’s with an ‘A’, Grimbald, not Grimbold,” Ominis said out of the blue.

“Thanks,” Sebastian muttered as he went back to add a flick of ink to his ‘O’. He seemed unbothered but Ominis’ correction. You, however, were too tongue-tied to continue reading. Sebastian frowned at the silence and finally looked up at you. “Is there not more?”

“How. . ?”

“Oh!” Realizing your confusion, Sebastian was quick and rather proud to explain his best mate’s ability, “Ominis can hear the letters, or, dunno really. You explain it better, Ominis.”

Suddenly, Ominis went ridged like he had been caught in an act. “When the room is quiet enough, I can pick out the sounds of a quill or chalk on the board. Letters all have a distinct cadence to them. Some sound too similar to be distinct like ‘b’, ‘d’, and ‘p’, but I can make an educated guess.”

“So you can hear what people are writing?”

“Precisely!” Sebastian spoke up with a wide smile. “Brilliant, isn’t it?“

“It is. . quite the talent, Ominis.”

“Thank you.”

You cleared your throat and went on with the lesson. Just because Ominis knew Sebastian’s penmanship did not mean he had your memorized, or that he even listened in the first place. After all, he slept through every class, and you weren’t bold enough to write his name in such a way while he was awake.

Still, knowing of his ability left you wary. The next time you sat with Ominis in history class, you were meticulous with your note taking. No doodles, no love hearts, no childish name writing. Those days were over. They had to be because if Ominis somehow didn’t already know about your embarrassing crush, you were not going to give him the opportunity to find out.

This time when you wrote your name and the date at the top of the parchment, you used your own last name. After that was finished, you moved on to title it “The Goblin Rebellion of 1752”, but you hadn’t gotten past “The” when a hand landed on your knee.

Warmth spread across your thigh while chilling nerves sprinkled down your spine. You nearly fell out of your chair at the touch, causing Ominis to squeeze down harder, keeping you firmly in your seat.

“Ominis?”

He almost seemed angry, but he kept his voice a low whisper for only you to hear, “What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Gaunt? Title your notes appropriately.”

~You can find part two here~

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #my writings

1K notes · View notes

myerssimp21 · 5 months

Text

Knife's Canvas (Pt. 1)

Yandere Poly!Ghostface x Reader

warnings: mention of torture (not reader), planned stalking.

prompt inspired by @jadedstarlight03 's prompt to @creepyyanderegirl on yandere stu with artistic reader. I liked it and took my own spin with it since I simp for Billy too.

"I admired your sketch!"

The cursive note, adorned with a smiley face, stared back at you, earning an A+ grade on your inaugural in-class creative writing assignment at Woodsboro High. As a newcomer, you had hoped your depictions of characters like Garfield and Scooby Doo would endear you to the teachers, and it appeared they did. Sketched in red pen and colored with pastel pink highlighter, your drawings grinned up at you, surrounded by tiny glitter hearts.

"Oh, those are wicked!"

The cute blonde girl seated behind you leaned over your shoulder, her minty breath fanning into your face as she praised, "Do you draw a lot? Did you do those in class? It's pretty fast if you did."

"Yeah! I started doing art last year, but you get better and faster with practice," you replied with a warm smile, eager to make your first friend. "I think these took about 3-4 minutes each."

Your face warmed as she leaned closer, her chest lightly pressing against your back as she inspected your paper. She pointed to the little hearts, "Those are so cute!" Her approving face turned toward you as she introduced herself, "I'm Tatum."

"I'm ____," you replied, pleased to make introductions effortlessly. The teacher's allowance for 5 minutes of free time before class's end was a welcome opportunity for socializing.

"You should join my friends and me after our next class for lunch; maybe some of us will be in your classes!"

"That would be so nice," you said, relief evident in your voice. "I'm honestly pretty shy, so making friends can be intimidating."

Her dazzling smile accompanied her words, "Perfect! If you have Chemistry next with Mr. Scott, I'll show you where it is if you don't already know."

"Um," you leaned down to your backpack, sifting through your new student documents to find your schedule. "Oh, it's actually history with Ms. Johnson."

"Hmm," Tatum leaned back, crossing her legs as she thought. "I think Billy has that class. Maybe if you leave a little early, you can catch him. He's the guy with the, uh," she seemed to struggle for words, "grunge hairstyle? I think he's wearing a dark red t-shirt today if that helps. He's a little grumpy sometimes, though, so if you're too nervous or he's mean, we'll look for you at lunch."

The bell rang, and students not already congregating by the door got up to leave. You neatly tucked your graded paper into its designated folder and stood, slinging your backpack over your shoulder as Tatum rose in tandem.

"I'll try!" you said with a giggle, even though meeting Billy made you nervous. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Tatum said, pulling a pack of gum from her bag and offering you a piece before you left. "I think your next class should be in that building, right? I’m not sure if you had it yesterday or if it’s a Tuesday-Thursday class."

Thanking her again, you made sure your Discman had the CD you liked the most before connecting your headphones and heading off in that direction. You'd only have a few minutes of music, but it was worth it!

After finding your next class, you lingered around the door since you were early, hoping to at least place who Billy was from Tatum's description. After a moment of trying to not look awkward as you stood around, you spotted him.

He did have a grungier hair style, reminding you of a movie star you'd seen on TV recently. It threatened to fall in his eyes as he stalked towards the door, a bored look on his face. Now that you noticed him more, it was hard to ignore that he had a pretty face. Trying to not overthink it now that you realized you thought he was kind of cute, you pulled your headphones down from your ears until they hung around your neck as he came closer to the class.

When he noticed you looking at him as he drew closer, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, the scowl on his face deepening and making you feel even more nervous.

"Hi," you said somewhat sheepishly, "I'm ___. I'm new and met Tatum in my last class. You must be Billy."

His eyebrow raises and his eyes soften, but the scowl remains, “Oh?”

“Yeah…” you trail off a little, unsure of what to say since his response was sort of dry, “I’m from the more southern part of the state and we moved up here for my dad’s new job. I hear you guys experience the seasons up here so I’m excited to see them! The leaves never change in the fall where I’m from.”

His dark brown eyes have been boring into yours as you speak, making your face feel warm for the second time today. They dart down to the folder in your hands and he smirks as he says, “That’s cool.”

For your history folder, you’d tried to paint torsos and busts like the ancient historic statues from Greece and Rome you’d seen in a National Geographic magazine on the cover. They were naked torsos, but you had tried to make the nipples on the women look less prominent to avoid getting into trouble. If you had any sense, you’d have depicted something else to entirely avoid the possibility of getting into trouble, but you’d gotten irritated at the idea of censoring art.

“Oh, thank you! I hope I don’t get shit for the nudity, but I guess I could probably give them all clothes if I need to.”

He nods towards the classroom and you notice the hallways are getting quieter, “We should head in. There’s a couple empty seats near me.”

Ms. Johnson's strategy to get the kids interested in history was to start with the brutality of the medieval age, it seemed; with diagrams of the torture methods they created being the highlight of her second class after syllabus day.

The history class, guided by Ms. Johnson's unwavering enthusiasm, delved into the unsettling corners of medieval history. As the lesson progressed, she took a moment to present an image of a haunting artifact, projecting it onto the screen for the entire class to see.

"Now, can anyone tell me what this is?" Ms. Johnson asked, gesturing to the screen. It was a grotesque device, an iron contraption with a cold, heartless design. Sharp spikes protruded inward, forming a cage around the wearer's head. The unsettling silence lingered as the class peered at the image, growing discomfort palpable.

To everyone's surprise, ____ confidently raised her hand, her eyes betraying an unexpected depth of knowledge.

"It's called the Scold's Bridle," she answered, her voice steady. "An oppressive device designed to silence women who dared to speak their minds. The spikes prevented any speaking, ensuring their voices remained stifled."

Billy arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "How do you know about that?"

____ shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on her lips. "I read a lot. History isn't just about dates and battles; it's about the struggles people faced, especially women, and respecting the challenges they went through."

Billy's skepticism softened as he nodded slightly. "Guess history is more twisted than we think."

____ leaned towards him slightly, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes and made his spine tingle slightly, "Oh, you have no idea."

"Ah, ____," Ms. Johnson said with genuine admiration and ____'s attention snapped back to her, "Impressive knowledge there. I'm eager to see your thoughts on this in more detail, perhaps in an essay. It's always refreshing when students connect with the material on a deeper level."

"Now, let's delve further into the complexities of medieval society. How these devices were not only instruments of physical torment but also symbolic of the societal norms of the time."

The lesson continued, and ____ slowly flipped through her sketchbook to find a fresh page, seemingly reviewing her previous art briefly as she did so. Billy faced the board, but his eyes were turned downward, toward ____'s hands. He caught a glimpse of previous drawings – a mix of cartoon characters and a few creepier depictions.

Angry faces splattered with red marks resembling blood and figures wearing intimidating masks (or just freaks with the scariest faces ever) caught his eye. Intrigued, he discreetly watched as she began absentmindedly sketching the torture devices described in class as she listened, switching out her pens to smear red ink on them. He caught his scoff before he uttered it when he realized she was drawing the devices in glitter pens, her eyes flickering from the images on the screen to back down at her paper.

He must have been too obvious, leaning in too closely or being too pointed with his staring now because she had flipped to a fresh page and locked eyes, an unreadable expression across her face. There was a pause before she tucked her sketchbook into her bag and turned her attention back towards the board.

Billy felt a mischievous idea forming in his head as he let his eyes linger on her, knowing she could probably see him staring in her peripheral. If she wasn't thrilled about him seeing her portfolio, perhaps there was more hiding in that sketchbook than just cutesy cartoons. It could be amusing for him and Stu to explore her place once they found out where she lived, hunting for more art she wasn't ready to showcase while they scoped out their new potential victim. If the glimpses of what he saw when she had flipped through it implied there was anything more beneath her vanilla exterior, Billy was confident that he and Stu could uncover it.

As the bell rang, she turned to him with what he'd call friendly eyes, the strange demeanor now gone, "Are you hungry or what? Is the cafeteria food at Woodsboro High edible or would I be better off hunting a bird?"

He huffed, "You'd be better off starving." Nodding towards the door, he started towards it, hardly waiting for ____ to collect her bag, "Maybe Randy will be enough of a simp to offer you whatever his mommy made for him."

Noticing the disdain Billy seemed to have for Randy's mother but feeling too tentative about the potential for conflict to ask more about it, ____ decided to leave it alone and hurry after him into the now bustling hallway.

290 notes · View notes

skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Reading Romance

Hyunjin x Thick female reader

Word count: 4.2K

Synopsis: While hanging out and reading with your best friend Hyunjin he catches a glimpse at what you're book is about and wants to know more.

A/N: Number 5! Only 3 left to go and I have at least an idea of what the rest will be! I hope you like this one, if you do please reblog, like, comment, hit up my ask box, I always get great feedback with these so I really appreciate it! As usual warnings and smut below the cut.

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, light bondage, pet names (darling, beautiful etc), slight Hyunjin dom/MC sub dynamic (kinda sorta not really), oral (m&f receiving), deep throating/face fucking, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, use of the color system (never yellow or red), squirting, tearing up during sex(?), cum play/cum eating, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cream pie. I think that's everything but if I ever miss anything please let me know and I'll add it asap!

One of the reasons Hyunjin was your best friend was your mutual ability to be completely fine sitting silent in a room together. Whether you were reading, painting, even watching tv, whatever, the two of you were content just existing in the same space and called it hanging out. Today Hyunjin came over to your place for the two of you to do some painting in your studio and you had for about an hour or so. Now the two of you were sitting on your couch reading together quietly.

Hyunjin’s book was a series of short stories that intersected into each other and all tied together in the end. You were reading a book one of the girls from your book club had recommended to you on the low. It was... spicy... and normally not a book you’d be reading around anyone, let alone Hyunjin, but it really had a great plot and you were hooked so you were reading a smutty book, sitting with your insanely gorgeous best friend. Needless to say when it came upon a sex scene you started blushing and couldn’t help but look up at Hyunjin and imagine if you were in that scenario. It would never happen in a million years but a big girl could dream.

In reality, guys that were that beautiful didn’t go for the chubby art chick. Hyunjin was a sweet guy and a good friend so you shouldn’t be picturing him in any scenarios, yet your eyes would scan the sultry words on your page and then drift up to the man frowning at the book in front of him. You jumped a little focusing on your book again when Hyunjin closed his.

“This book is boring, predictable. What are you reading?” You almost choked when he asked but rebounded quickly.

“Oh! Uh... umm... a romance.” Hyunjin nodded.

“Let me take a look.” You scoffed, trying to be nonchalant, but you could feel your ears starting to burn.

“I’m reading it right now Hyunjin.” He mimicked you.

“I’m reading it right now muhmuhmuh, mark your page and let me look at it for a second. If I like it I can just download it on my phone and read it.” You shook your head.

“No like I said it’s a romance, you won’t like it.” Hyunjin held out his hand.

“Do you remember who you’re talking to darling? I AM romance, now let me see.”

“No.” No reason given this time, just no. Hyunjin was very curious now.

“No?” You shook your head again. Hyunjin nodded.

“Okay fine.” You relaxed a bit and Hyunjin lunged for the book in your hand snatching it away.

“HYUNJIN! DON’T!” He held you back with one of his long arms as he opened your book and started reading. Unfortunately, he landed on the page you had been reading and one of the more risqué parts of the book.

“Philippe grabbed his throbbing member!? And shoved it in again, gagging Krista with his hard thrusts to the back of her throat?! What the hell y/n you’re sitting here reading porn?!” You snatched the book back angry he’d taken it instead of listening to you.

“It’s not porn, it’s a romance novel and I told you not to read it!” You got up and started storming off towards your room mad and Hyunjin followed.

“Oh come on! I’m just teasing, don’t get mad.” You turned back towards him.

“I asked you not to and you did anyway. It’s embarrassing Hyunjin okay?” He walked up to you.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, so there’s dirty words in your book, so what, I guarantee I watch porn way worse than any smutty book you’ve got.” You rolled your eyes shaking your head, going to walk off again.

“That’s not the point...” Hyunjin followed grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

“Well then what is it? Are you embarrassed because you were watching me?” Your jaw dropped.

“Is that it? Because if it is... I mean don’t be. If I had a dollar for every time I imagined fucking you I’d be rich.” You tossed the book on one of the tables.

“Hyunjin! I... what?” It took a second for your brain to catch up and register what he said.

“Did you just say...” Hyunjin waited for you to finish your question and then finished it for you.

“I imagined fucking you? Is that really surprising?” You stood there dumbfounded.

“Uh... well... I mean... yea it kind of is. You mean you think of me and you like...” Hyunjin nodded finishing your sentence again.

“Having sex together? Yea. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, talented, sexy...”

“I’m fat.” Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed at you.

“That doesn’t make any of the other things I said about you untrue. So what if you’re bigger. Only a vain troglodyte would care about something so trivial and stupid.” You stood there utterly speechless and then something clicked for Hyunjin.

“Did.... did you think I wouldn’t want to be with you because you’re bigger?” He sounded genuinely hurt.

“Is that how I come off?” It wasn’t, you didn’t want him to think that.

“No! No Jinnie that’s not how you come off. That...that’s just me projecting my shitty body image onto you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” Hyunjin had always been nothing but sweet to you and if you hadn’t been so in your head about images and what people thought you’d have noticed that Hyunjin’s interest in you wasn’t purely as friends. You weren’t sure how you didn’t realize with how comfortable you both always were with each other. There was a reason for that, a mutual unspoken affection.

“You don’t have to apologize y/n. You’ve grown up in a world telling you that you’re not pretty if you’re not skinny. I understand but I want you to know that’s not how I feel. I think you’re beautiful.” You didn’t know what to say. You stood there, Hyunjin still holding onto your arm. He took a step closer and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The hand grasping your wrist let go. He caressed your face and cupped your cheek.

“I’m gonna kiss you now...” You nodded and as he leaned in closer you closed your eyes. When you felt warm full lips pressed against yours sweetly, your hands came up and rested on Hyunjin’s chest and his other hand found your soft hip pulling you closer. He pulled away and ran his thumb over the apple of your cheek as he looked at you. You grasped his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. Lips parting tongues teasing. You only pulled away once you both were breathless. Hyunjin bit at his pouty bottom lip, catching his breath, wrapping both arms around you, and resting his head against yours. He got a smirk on his face.

“So what were you reading in that book that had you staring at me like that hmm?” You started blushing and shook your head.

“Oh come on I already read about Phillipe’s throbbing member how much worse can it get.”

“It gets worse trust me.” Hyunjin’s smile grew wider and he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well worse is better, let me take another look.” He went to grab the book off the table and you picked it up quickly.

“Hyunjin...no...” He laughed softly. It was cute how shy you were being suddenly. Usually you were confident and spoke your mind around him easily. He wasn’t really used to this timid side.

“Come on... show me what you were reading when you kept looking at me.” You stood there frozen with the book in hand. There was absolutely no way you could show him that part. Phillipe was a French masseuse and before grabbing his ‘throbbing member’ that Krista was gagging on, he had tied her to his massage table with silk ropes. You had looked up when you read it initially, looking at Hyunjin’s hands, imagining his long deft fingers tying knots around your wrists and ankles.

“Look I won’t take it this time, just show me... or... read it to me?” He cocked his perfect eyebrow at you. That was diffidently not happening.

“Fine I’ll show you... but...” Hyunjin tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not gonna judge you darling...” He leaned in by your ear.

“I just want to know what sets your body on fire...” He kissed your neck those insanely soft lips of his pressed against your skin.

“then dumb gasoline on it and give it to you.” He gently grabbed hold of your wrist again and pulled you to your own bedroom, where you had been storming off to in the first place. He let go of you when you walked through the door and made his way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it. You hesitated. Was this really happening? Were you really about to sit on your bed with Hyunjin and show him the smut you were eye fucking him to? He pat the spot across from him on the bed.

“Do you want to sit down?” You nodded walking over and sitting across from him on your bed, book still in hand. He scooched a little closer so that he could see over your shoulder a bit. You turned your head looking at him nervously. He kissed your shoulder and smiled at you.

“It’s okay. I promise.” You gave him a little nod and started thumbing through the pages looking for where you were at. When you found it you held it open for Hyunjin to read.

“This was the page I opened it to.” You nodded and he scanned through the type, getting closer to you, his warm breath fanning against your neck. His breathing hitched when he saw what you had been reading.

“Is it the ropes darling? Hmm...” His lips were ghosting your skin but not touching.

“Do you want me to tie you up? Make you cum?” Your breathing was coming out more labored and your skin was completely flushed. You looked over your shoulder at him again and shook your head softly. He tilted your head and started kissing down your neck and shoulder, pulling the straps of the tank top and bra you were wearing down. His arms wrapped around you from behind as he groped your soft body and he nibbled and kissed your neck. You leaned your head back against his shoulder giving him better access to you. Hyunjin moved from behind you and laid you back on the bed before getting on top of you, propping himself up, looking down at you.

“I’m going to undress you and kiss all of my favorite parts of your gorgeous body, then I'm gonna go into your closet and grab four of your silk scarves and I’m going to tie you up and make you cum again, and again and again...” He started kissing down your neck to your chest between each word. He lifted your shirt up and over your head and grabbed your full breasts before burying his face between them licking and kissing the soft skin. Your fingers combed through Hyunjin’s hair and you held on as he continued kissing down your tummy, then tugging at your pants sitting back and pulling them off, tossing them aside.

He climbed between your legs and kissed the insides of your thighs, gently dragging his teeth across them. He kissed his way back up your body stopping at your tits again, pulling your bra down and sucking on one nipple and then the other. Hyunjin was pleased to see your bra opened from the front. He unhooked it and pulled the straps down and off of you. He kissed his way up further, his full lips overtaking yours in another heated kiss. His hands running up and down your plush body, memorizing every curve. Hyunjin hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulled them down, you lifted your full ass up as he continued dragging them down and off. He sat back on his knees and took in every last inch of your plump frame.

“God I wish you saw what I see...” Your felt your heart go soft.

“Hyunjin...” Your eyes were glassy as tears started to rim them.

“I really do darling, you’d never doubt how beautiful you were ever again if you saw what I see every time I look at you.” He hovered over you and kissed you sweetly, your hands sliding up his shoulders and neck, toying with the pieces of his long hair that had fallen from his ponytail. He sat back up peeling his own shirt off.

“Get comfy gorgeous, I’ll be right back.” Hyunjin disappeared into your closet and reemerged with scarves thrown over one of his shoulders. He lost the pants and boxers on the way back over to you and when you saw him standing naked by the bed, you thought your heart was going to pound out of your chest.

“That book has bondage, does it mention safe words?” You nodded.

“Yes Jinnie.” It had; Phillipe had told Krista about the stoplight system.

“And what did they teach you darling?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down, red means stop.” He shook his head smiling.

“That’s my good girl.” You flushed when he said that, then he crawled back onto the bed by you.

“Hands please.” You gave him your hands and he kissed the back of each before he gently tied your wrists together. With another scarf looped through your arms now joined at the wrist Hyunjin secured your hands above your head and to the headboard of your bed. He lightly ran his fingertips down your body and you softly pulled at the restraints needy for his touch goosebumps erupting all over your body.

“Comfortable? Too tight?” You shook your head no.

“They feel okay, not too tight.” Hyunjin gripped one of your ankles and kissed it before he started tying another one of the scarves around it. He tied the other end to one post of your footboard and walked around to the other side and gave the other ankle the same treatment. A sweet kiss and then tied to the opposite post, spreading your thick thighs for him and exposing your glistening cunt. He immediately started stroking his cock once you were laid out in the vulnerable position.

“You look good enough to eat beautiful.” Hyunjin crawled up on the bed again and took his place between your legs that were held open for him. His face hovered over your clenching pussy, his warm breath teasing you, his full lips ghosting, you were ready to scream for him right as Hyunjin ran his tongue through your folds.

“Fuck you’re delicious.” Hyunjin spread your plump pussy lips apart and latched onto your clit, licking and slurping on you, collecting your arousal on his tongue and savoring the taste of you. You could feel your high approaching and Hyunjin could tell. He slid two fingers inside your wet hole and pumped them in and out as he sucked and hummed against your clit. White hot pleasure electrocuted you from head to toe when Hyunjin made you cum, you pulled tightly at the straps around your wrists.

“Jinnie! Fuck! Oh god!” He stopped feasting on you but kept his fingers curling inside you. You tried to close your legs feeling the pin pricks of overstimulation, but couldn’t while Hyunjin started fingering you harder again.

“Ji-Jinnie I... I can’t...” He cooed at you and slowed down a little.

“Color?”

“Green.” He smiled.

“Good girl, you can and you will.” He started fingering you harder again then spit on your clit and started eating you out again as well, unrelenting between his plump lips and expert tongue. It wasn’t long before your body tensed and pulled against your restraints as you came on Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers again. Again he didn’t slow down, not even the kitten licking your clit, he didn’t stop.

“Hy-Hyunjin! FuckFuckFUCK! It’s too much!” Your legs were shaking, he stopped slurping at you but still kept his fingers lodged deep in your pussy constantly rubbing against that soft spot that sent more jolts of electricity through your body. He spit on your clit again only this time his other hand started teasing your clit, spreading his saliva around the buzzing bundle of nerves.

“Do you know what else I notice in that little page you showed me darling?” You were panting sweat beading on your temples, you shook your head and couldn’t control the level of your voice.

“What!? God what tell me fuck!” Hyunjin smiled and played with your pussy more making you writhe under his touch.

“After Phillipe had Krista tied down and before he was chocking her with his cock...” You had almost forgot and only now, Hyunjin bringing it up, reminded you.

“He finger fucked Krista until he made her squirt.” Your eyes rolled up in your head, again you tried to close your legs but it was futile as long as they were tied to the bannisters. Hyunjin started eating your pussy again, starved, ravenous, and you came again, and again, and again. After every orgasm Hyunjin would part from your cunt long enough to ask your color. As soon as he heard green you were getting licked and fingered into another orgasm, and another and another and another. He pulled away again panting like a mad man.

“Fuck you taste so fucking delicious, such a good girl; I could eat you for fucking hours... color?” You were sweaty and trembling, your whole body was on fire. You only pulled at your restraints now when another orgasm tore through you.

“G-gre- green.” Hyunjin spit on his fingers and rubbed four of them firmly across your sensitive clit as he pumped his long fingers into you as deep as he could, hard. You felt it, you were going to cum harder than you ever had. It felt funny.

“Hy-Hyunjinnie I’m... I think I’m...OHHHHH! FUCK!” You started squirting on Hyunjin and still he didn’t relent, he rubbed your pussy and pumped his fingers in and out as your juices squirted and leaked out of you. Your arms pulled tight at the scarves, your back arching, legs twisting, shaking and still unable to close no matter how hard you tried. Hyunjin slowed down and pulled his fingers out of you, your cum still trickling out after. He softly rubbed your whole pussy which made you jump and jolt from the oversensitivity.

“God that was so fucking sexy!” You laid there limp, panting, and he started licking your cum from your body.

“Was it?” You asked genuinely. Hyunjin climbed up your thick, cum slicked, body and kissed you with his lips, puffier than usual after eating you out for so long.

“Mhmm. Almost came on myself a few times but when you squirt for me... well... let's just say it’s not just your cum on these sheets.” You managed to open your eyes and smile. You loved the idea of Hyunjin being so turned on eating you out, making you squirt, that he came untouched. Hyunjin reached up and untied the scarf that was holding your joined wrists to the headboard and you could finally bring your arms down but they were still tied together. Hyunjin knelt by you stroking his cock that was already hard again. He leaned down close to your face as he kept tugging on himself. He whispered in your ear.

“Can I fuck your face like Phillipe did to Krista too?” He absolutely could after what he’d just put your body through. You nodded.

“Yes, fuck my face Jinnie.” He crawled and knelt over your head a knee on each side straddling you. He held up his cock, jerking off, his balls hovering over your mouth. You started tonguing them as Hyunjin stroked his dick, when you sucked one into your mouth and gently suckled at it Hyunjin moaned and it made you gush. You sucked on his other one and then licked his balls until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Open up darling.” You opened your mouth and Hyunjin hovered over you sliding his cock in between your lips. You stuck your tongue out as he pushed in deeper allowing him further into your mouth, the tip of his dick prodding your throat.

“FFffffuck! Good girl. Are... are you r-ready?” You hummed around his cock and he felt it vibrate through his whole body. He propped himself up over you, gripping the headboard with two hands and started thrusting into your mouth deeper. You gagged and choked on his dick and he pulled out spit connected to your lips and his cock. You took a couple of deep breaths and Hyunjin thrusted back into your mouth bottoming out in the back of your throat again. This time when you choked he didn’t pull out, he thrusted deeper and harder into your throat. He felt a strong gag on the tip of his cock and pulled out, you gasping for air.

“Color?”

“Green.” You choked out before he shoved his cock back into your mouth fucking it hard and deep again. He braced against the headboard with one hand and held the back of your head with the other, pushing you down on his dick, making you swallow all of him, giving you a few more deep thrusts and pulling out again. You had tears in your eyes drool running down your chin.

“Color?”

“Green now choke me with your cock Jinnie.” He rubbed his tip against your face slapping your lips with it before thrusting in and fucking your throat mercilessly. The gagging, choking and squelching of his cock punishing your throat filled the room. Your tied hands started playing with his balls and Hyunjin was ready to blow.

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK OHHHH BEAUTIFUL FUCK!!! Can I cum down your throat hmm? Gonna be a good girl and choke down my cum?” You hummed around his cock hard and He gripped the back of your head again pushing you down as he came in your mouth, his seed flooding and dripping down your chin.

“Fuck! Oh fuck oh god damn! Swallow it!” You swallowed what you could and Hyunjin pulled his softening cock from your mouth. You took big, deep breaths, licking your lips and savoring the taste of him. When Hyunjin’s wits were back about him he untied your wrists, and then untied each of your legs from the bed posts. Massaging each one of them, softly kissing them each again. You could finally relax all your limbs and you laid there completely fucked out. Hyunjin kissed your shoulder and neck then your lips, his taste lingering on your tongue. He was stroking his cock again as the two of you softly made out for a bit, catching your breath. Just enjoying each other’s lips and taste.

“God I want to fuck you so bad, I want your arms and soft legs wrapped around me and I want to lose myself inside you.” He kissed you and you could feel his hard cock prodding at your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him. Nuzzled against his nose and place soft chaste kisses to his lips, over and over. Hyunjin jumped when you first grabbed his cock, not expecting it with how tenderly you were kissing him. You lined him up with your warm cunt and slid the tip of him into you. Hyunjin’s forehead fell against yours and he moaned as he pushed deeper into you.

“Feels so good Hyunjin-ah, don’t stop.” He bit his lips and shook his head no, sweat already forming on his brow. He continued to slide into you until your hips were pressed together. You wrapped your thick thighs around Hyunjin, your arms gripping him close to you, no possible way there was any space left between the two of you. Hyunjin propped up on his elbows, held your face, his forehead pressed to yours again as he rocked his hips into you, slow deep grinding, both of you kissing and consuming the other’s moans and soft pants.

“You’re so beautiful, god you feel so good, so soft everywhere, fuck, I love you y/n I love you.” You were coming, tears of pleasure in your eyes as Hyunjin kissed you tenderly.

“Hyun- I-I love y-you.” When Hyunjin felt your walls fluttering around his cock he pushed deep inside you slower.

“C-can I cum inside you?” You held onto him tightly with your arms and legs still and nodded, kissing him as his speed picked up again. The soft moans that came from Hyunjin as his orgasm approached made you want it all the more.

“Please Hyunjin-ah, cum inside me.” His hips started to lose rhythm.

“Please.” You whispered in a soft moan against his lips and Hyunjin came. He pushed deep into you and stilled as his cock twitched and filled you with his big warm load. Hyunjin collapsed on you filling you, softening inside you, his cum dripping out of your sensitive hole. Both of your sweaty bodies completely spent. Hyunjin finally managed to stop crushing you and lay next to you. The two of you laid there quietly, catching your breath until you finally broke the silence.

“We need to shower and clean up Jinnie.” He hummed nodding and started to get up.

“I know...” He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked back at you with his eyebrow cocked and a smirk plastered on his face.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice05280 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64

“Then we need to finish reading that book.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz317cb97 thick reader series pt 2 #skz317cb97 thick reader series

613 notes · View notes

gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

Note

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Everyone in this fic is a freak and I'm having a great time

763 notes · View notes

onlybeeewrites · 11 months

Note

If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe like friends to lovers or something x

The Muse

Requested: By anon

Warnings: nothing just pining

Painting: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Request: If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe friends to lovers or something

Authors Note: I beg for forgiveness that it has taken me so long to get to this. I had insane writers block, then university hit like a truck and had to put writing on hold. But I have returned and I loved this request. I am currently rewatching Brigderton after watching Queen Charlotte so I hope this to your liking. So sorry again, love <3

—————————————————————————————

You had grow up beside the Bridgerton Household your entire life—to the estate beside theirs at least. Your father’s had been quite good friends, and as your parents began with their families the relationship between the two had grown. This has allowed you to have direct access to the household since you could even remember. Your were at the young age of four and twenty, just a few years older than the eldest Bridgerton daughter, but still a few years younger than the second eldest Bridgerton who also just so happened to be your closest companion.

You remembered the first time you had met the boy, or at least remembered meeting him. You were but about six years of age, and Benedict was ten. Your mother had dragged you over to the house as she more often did to have tea with the Viscountess Bridgerton as they did more often than not. It was in their tea room where you were interacting with Colin when Benedict had come in rather excitedly to show his mother a drawing he had made. You could remember her cooing her second eldest son, praising his rather interesting art piece. Curiously you had glanced over, interested with all the paint colors and such. Benedict had noticed your curiosity and offered for you to have a closer look. From then on whenever you had come over you had eagerly awaited to see what Benedict had created next.

This little routine continued as you all got older. Of course after the passing of their Father, there was more comfort and reassurance whenever you had visited. Though, even in a time of such great sorrow, Benedict had portrayed that emotion within his paintings and drawings. You had been the one to support him and aid him in any such way possible.

As time continued, the two of your had grown closer. Of course you had grown closer with all the Bridgerton siblings, Benedict was the one you were closest with. The one you could also scope out at balls if you needed to escape another dreadfully boring dance partner, or an attempted suitor that was twice your age. Of course your father was there to ensure nothing of the sort would occur, but there would be times where Benedict was simply closer and much better at conversation.

Often Lady Whistledown commented on the you both, sometimes a bit too often. There would be whispers about you both, how often you dance with each other at balls or are seen giggling a bit tipsy with each other in the corners. Most of the time it had not bother you—when you were younger at least. Though as you blossomed and grew into yourself, you also were able to recognize your feelings. You believed it was around ten and six when you had realized you were doomed. That you had fallen completely in love with Benedict. It was not something you liked to think about nor dwell on for too long. Why would he, a Bridgerton, a most handsome, talented, funny, charming man like himself even think about courting you?

It was not that you felt like you were unattractive in some sort of way, you were rather pretty. But it was the fact that you were best friends with Benedict that caused you to think this way. There was a chance of him not returning those feelings. There was a chance that he would laugh in your face assuming it was a joke. There was a chance of him scoffing in your face and cutting you and your friendship off completely.

There was no chance that you would even consider taking that risk—no matter how often Daphne or hell, even Elouise would reassure you that he had returned those feelings to you.

Though one afternoon, you sat with him in the Bridgerton’s drawing room. You had been having some tea that Rose had gotten for you while Benedict drew. He drew with his charcoaled that made his long fingers turning an odd shade of black within his drawing pad. You had always admired the way he looked to serious when he drew. His eyebrows furrowed, causing wrinkles to cover his forehead. He also had this habit of tilting his head; you assumed it was to get a different angle on whatever his latest creations was. But your most favorite thing was when he would be stuck on something. Maybe it was because he could not draw it correctly, or the art was not coming out the way he wanted it to. But once he figures it out, or it comes out the way that he had wanted and the ways his eyes lit up with pride and eureka was your absolute favorite.

“what is it you are drawing today?” You asked, lifting the fragile porcelain to your lips as you take a small sip of the warm tea. Your eyes flicker from your cup to the Bridgerton across from you. And just in time too because was already looking at you. His body tensed slightly before he attempted to play it off.

“Nothing you must worry your head about,” he said in a teasing tone, as he most often did. But he was just trying to play it off when in reality it was you. He was drawing you, in your beautiful soft green dress, your hair done up into a neat braid to keep from your beautiful face. You looked stunning and he wanted to capture it like he had done many time before.

It was always you that he drew, especially when you plagued his thoughts in the late. Hours. Oh if you only knew that you were his muse. The very figure and image of you filled pages and pages of his work. Two of the things he loves most wrapped into one. But what if you were to find out? You would never return and that would break his heart. He was so in love with you it ached to not be able to hold you, kiss you when he wanted. He felt this especially at balls and suitors would come up to your constantly, it made his blood boil. But he had hoped he kept it well hidden. Well, enough to keep it from you. His family on the other hand seemed to know or notice it for quite sometime. According to his mother, both of your mother’s knew of it. Everyone seem to know. Everyone but you.

Too busy in his thoughts, he did not feel the dip in the sofa until it was too late. You had seated yourself right next to him with a small huff as you tried to peak at this new creation before he was able to hide it. But he managed, which caused you to pout slightly. Of those lips…he wanted nothing more to cup your face and kiss you right then and there.

“Benedict. You always show me your drawings,” you had insisted, which just caused the other to shake his head.

“Nonsense. There are plenty of work that you have not seen. Besides it is no good anyways, there is no point in showing it off if it is no good.” He said, giving his best friend a look. This only made you want to see more. “you always saw your work is no good and it is always beautiful. Let me see, please?” You pleaded as you took hold of a part of his drawing pad. There was some back and forth, some ‘no’s’ and ‘oh please’ as you both struggled to take proper hold of the pad.

Eventually his hands slipped and lost its grip on the pad, landing it right into your smaller grasp. “ha! I have got it now. Now, let us see what you have been working so hard on,” you tease before looking at the drawing Benedict had been working so hard on. It was a lady, a rather beautiful one. But the longer you looked, the more you realized that this lady in the charcoal had the same features as you. the same face shape, body type, hair—even the little scar that was right on the bridge of your nose that you had gotten as a child. And you face began to redden as you slowly looked towards Benedict. “Are…is this of me?” You ask in wonder, amazement and without a single sound of disgust or hated—this reassures Benedict a bit more at least.

He nods and before he could utter another word, you flip through pages; more drawings of you. “You make me look beautiful..” you say in wonder and this causes Benedict to furrow his eyebrows once more but not in concentration but confusion.

“Because you are beautiful. I draw what I see and what I see from you is…” he stopped himself from speaking another word, too afraid to come across as too forward. He took a breath, figuring now is a better time than ever. The Bridgerton boy took the drawing pad from your hands and placed it next to him before giving you his full attention. Your face is covered with blush, flustered from this whole thing.

“I suppose now I must explain myself before it comes across strangely. But I do draw you. More times than not because you plague my every waking moment, you have since we were children. You have captured my heart from years and you have refused to return it to me. My dearest friend…..my feelings for you grow into one where I want you by my side forever, not just in my drawings. You are my muse for everything I do and I cannot bear it being another nor you being with anyone else..” he said, “So I suppose-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and giving him a kiss. Your soft ones pressed against his own. It was bold and improper. But his words were moving and your heart would not stop its fluttering. So you had kissed him, hoping no one would see. The kiss was everything you both had imagined it would be like and more.

So once you had pulled away to his surprised but smug reaction, you simply nodded, “Of course, it would be delighted to court you, my dearest. I have been waiting so long for this moment.” You say, still almost not believing that your love was also your best friend.

“I suppose we both were a bit too blind and afraid to admit it, hm?” He chuckled, taking your hands in his, getting a bit of the charcoal onto your hands. You giggle and nod,

“Yes I suppose so. But I also would love to see these other drawings of me that you have mentioned,” you teased him, now making it his turn to blush as he realized what he had admitted.

“Perhaps another time…?” He asked hopefully and you grin mischievously, almost impishly.

“Or perhaps we can give you something else to draw,” you said suggestively continuing to tease him about such thing.

“Oh I quite like the sound of that,” Benedict grinned as he pulled you in for another quick kiss. Perhaps it was a good thing you had seen the drawings after all.

#bridgerton imagines #onlybeeewrites #bridgerton #Benedict #benedict bridgerton #Ben Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x reader #Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader #anon post #send anons #friends to lovers #cute imagine #onlybeeeanswers #onlybeewrites #open asks

354 notes · View notes

asmutwriter · 27 days

Text

Are You Scared Yet? (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You're a new student at your university. You were smart and dedicated to learning. But every uni student gets up to some crazy things, right?

A/N - I have work tomorrow and instead of going to sleep for my day I'm here writing a fan fic. I make very sensible choices.

WORD COUNT: 2245

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: Reader is an introvert/anti social, mild cussing (bloody/Jesus), reader is a little judgy, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex/nudity

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

Not been proof read

You take a deep breath. Living on campus was new to you so you were quite nervous to say the least. Going into the dorm rooms you hear people chatting around you. Finding your room number. 16. Opening it with the new key you had. You shut the door behind you. Placing your rucksack down onto the chair in your new room.

You’d not been in education for about a year at this point. Having had a gap year to do some exploring so you had to get back into the mindset of doing if. You rst your head back as the door knocks. SOmeone walks in "Oh hey!" your roommate says. Her bubbly personaltiy being a surprise based on the rudeness of some of the other dorm people that you’d bumped into. "Im Lucky" she comes over to you. Hugging you. You gently pat her back before she moves away. Resting a hand on her hip she eyes you up and down.

Your oversized hoodie and jeans being a contrast to her mini skirt and tight shirt. Both leaving very little to the imagination. You wihs you had the confidence to wear something like that. "Im Luna"

"Oh that is a beautiful name" she says, cuaisng you to smile. SHe hugs you again "I think we're going to be best friends" she says. ALmost squealing as she moves away from the hug. "What is it that you're studying?"

"Art and drama"

"Oh my friend did that last year. I tried but got bored. Everything I do mildly creative ends up looking like a toddler did it” you let out a soft chuckle

“So does mine but that doesn’t mean I don’t try to do it”she laughs “what do you do instead then?”

“I do psychology"

"Thats cool. I was debating doing it but decided against it” a knock at the door stops your conversation as she looks owards it

"come in". she says. SOmeone walks in.

"Lucky do you want to come see my new room?" she nods, looking at you as she stands

"DO you want to come?"

"No Im ok tha k you. Ive got to unpack" she looks at your singular rucksack but nods

"ALright then. See you later" she smiles before walking off. You grab your bag. Taking out your various items. Your diary, book, clothes, etc. SOrting it all out onto your bed before putting it away properly on your side of the room.

Youd moved in on the Saturday. Sunday having a few induction days or various groups you could join. Then Monday being peoples first day at uni. Now it was Sunday. After a night in reading yur book. Your roommate coming in during the early hours of the morning, very drunk. You got up early and explored the grounds. Going over to a stall with various cakes and such on it.

You hear someone letting out a groan beside you. "Hi there Luna"

"Did someone have a good time last night?" you look at Lucky standing next to you. Sunglasses on despite the dark weather. SHe nods. Taking the glasses off as she looks at you. A black eye adorning her face. "Jesus what happened to you?"

"I had a terrible fight. With the floor. ANd lost" you let out a slight chuckle as she picks up one of the cupcakes. The lady at the stall going to speak but she shushes her. Walking off. You grab out a fiver from your purse, placig it down and mouthing 'sorry' to her. Catching up with your new friend. SHe bites down into the cake, a moan escaping her lips as she speaks with her mouth full "That is a bloody good cake". SHe looks at you, swallowing before talking again "what did you get up to last ngiht?"

"Nothing in particualr. I read my book, had a shower, then went to bed"

"You should come out with me tonight"

"I have classes early tomorrow morning so I really shouldnt"

"Oh come on. Itll be fun!" she grabs your arm "I can introduce you to some of my friends. I think you'll like one of them. Hes handsome and he likes books to. Plus you have similar fashion tastes. Oh lets look over here" SHe drags you over to a stall. Making small talk with the person behind it. You both go round to the rest of the stalls. Meeting a couple of her other friends.

The day going past quckly. You manage to convicne your new friend to stay in the night. Inviting her and two of her other friends rund. You stay up till quite late. Talking about a whole variety of things. Sadly things that didnt overly interest you. Boys you found cute. WHat lipstick shade was the best. Hair products. Although you found the conversation lacking in intellect you enjoyed the girls company so engaged in the talk with them.

You found one of the girls was also doing art. So you agreed to walk to class together. Her name was Hope. Sitting next to her in class, you found she had a lot higher intellegence then you initially thought when yo first met her. ACtually having a decent conversation with her until your professor walked in. Then every brain cell she seemed to have rotted away as she practicly stared at her. A young woman. Probably early thirties. Eyeliner perfect, hair styled in a way that looked both messy yet neat. You chuckle slightly. You were unaware that this new friend of yours swung that way, and this was certainly an interesting and entertaining way to find out.

"Please can you all call me Destiny. I would go about the formality of you using my doctorate name but we are here to make art. Not have a tea party with the queen. So-" she says. "I want everyone to pick up their pens. Pencils. Paints. Paper mache. WHatever you need to make a piece that says 'I am me'. You have the rest of the day. I will be judging them when you all go home to some sort of party Im sure"

You pick grab out your sketch book and pencils. Starting to trace your art piece. Noticing your friend still drooling over your teacher. You nudge her. Cuasing her to fall out of the trance. SHe looks at you. Her face turning a wonderful shade of tomato red.

"How much of that did you get?"

"Soemthing about her being our destiny"

"Ok then" you laugh. Explaing to your love stricken friend what she needs to do.

Once she listened she started her piece, as did you. You did a simple piece of work. A black and white picture of yourself. Behind it a mass of colour. Tryng to show that although you appeared dull on the outside, you had a lot of fun to show to those who got to know you.

Hope links an arm with you as you leave the lecture. "Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"You know that we're here for education right? ANd npt to drink ourselves to death"

"Oh come on"

"Ive got a very good book and a film to watch though"

"You can do that any day"

"I can have a party any day" she rolls her eyes.

"Come for like... an hour. If you dont like it then you can go back to your room"

"Fine..."

"Yay!" she exclaims. "I'll be round to take ypu and Lucky at 9. SPeak of the devil!" Lucky walks up to you both. Linking an arm with you on the other side. "I was just telling Luna about our party tonight"

"Youre coming?"

"I am" she squeals. Hugging you close to her. You gently pack her back. "You can borrow one of my dresses if youd like?"

"Oh no. Im not wearing a dress"

"Yes. Yes you are" you give her an uncomfortable look "At least wear a skirt".

"Skirt but a hoodie. ANd tights"

"Deal" she holds her hand out for you to shake. To which yo do.

If this was a movie. There would be a cheesy dress up montage. WHere the popluar girl takes off your glasses and straitens your hair and your suddenly beautiful. But this isnt a movie, so you settle with them doing their makeup in your room. Playing various pop music on their 'top of the charts' CD. Putting some mascara on your, as well as a deep blue skirt paired with a grey hoodie and black tights.

You get to the partry. You stand awkwardly in the corner. Watching men and woman get more and more drunk. With each drink they seem to strip too. Leaving a lot of half naked people around you.

Lucky stuck by your side for the first hour. Getting herself drinks. She had gone off to get drinks some more 20 minutes ago and hadnt returned. Hope stuck by your side though. Not drinking, joining you in a joint sober. You did start to enjoy yourself. You were planning on going for an hour but ended up staying for 2. Not a long time compafred to most people but for you, it was a lot of time to socialise.

So you bid your friend farewell. Telling her that you were grwing tired and would see her in class the following day. SHe agrees. Seeming happy that you had a good time. Sad to see you go but understood how introverted you are.

You head back to your dorm room. WHen you get there you see a tie firmly tied around the door handle. Now, you werent necersarily the most outgong person you knew. But you did know what that meant. So you turn tail. Annoyed that your friends had managed to convince you to not take your tote bag with you book in. You guess youd check the university library and see if they had anything in there to read.

Thankfully the library was run by book enthusiasts so was open 24/7. You go inside. Smiling at the lady at the desk as she smiles back to you. You idle down the rows of books. Seeing if any screamed out at you. You found one in the fantasy isle. Picking it up you turn it to read the blurb.

"Id recomoend this book instead" a voice says. Making you jump back at the suddeness of a male voice. You thought it was only you and the librarian (who was a female). "Sorry, didnt mean to startle you"

"No. No its fine. I just wasnt expecting anyine else to be here" you say. Now that you were over your initial scare you take a look at the man. Dark hair contrasting his vibrant blue eyes. Glasses sat comfortably on his nose as he wears a blazer over a vest shirt.

"I wasnt expectinh to see anyone else either. Normally its just me here reading up on studies". DUe to his youthful featrues yete his smart attire you couldnt tell if he meant in a professor or a student kind of study. He seemed to be able to tell your confusion as he continues speaking. "I work here". He outsteetches his hand towards you. "Professor Crane". Yiu take his hand.

"Luna. Like the moon. Ironic given that I often suffer from insomnia" he chuckles. "What do you study then professor?"

"Psychology"

"No way. My friend is studying that! Lucky... I dont know her last name"

"Yes. I know Lucky" he smiles. Obviously not overly impressed by the name drop. "WHat do you study then? Assuming you do come here and havnt just decided to sneak into a unis library"

"I stidy art. Not quite the level of psychology but still good fun".

"WHat made you come here rather then go out and party?"

"I was at a party but I decided to go back to my dorm". He looks around the library. "Oh no. There was a tie on my dorm door. I know how promiscous my roommate is so I just decided to leave her to it".

"Ahh. Well, if your wanting something to read whilst you wait then Id recomend this" he turns. Taking out a book from the shelf and handing it to you. You take it from him, turning it over to read the blurb. "Its a very good stroy line with some strong characters"

"Ive read this author before. Hes a good writer". You place it atop the oteer one youre still holding. "Ill add it to the pile"

"What book is that one?" he motions to the one your holding. "I saw you get it from the fantasy section"

"Its part of a series I read. Not read this one rhoufh. Its about an angel who solves crimes. Using his powers to force people to tell the truth"

"Sounds..."

"Utterly insane?"

"I was going to say interesting but yeah, that sums it uo better" he smiles. "I have taken up enough of your time. I imagine that you are wanting to get back to your reading. So I shall leave you to it Miss Luna. I hope you enjoy your books. And I hope tat your roommate lets you back into your dorm at some point tonight"

"If not then Im sure the librarian wont mind me camping out here" you joke. Causing him to let out a laugh. Adjusting his brief case before turning and walking out.

58 notes · View notes

ourautumn86 · 1 year

Text

stray. pt. 5

joel miller x fem! reader

gif credits to @pedrorascal <3

< previous chapter next chapter >

summary; after saving Joel and Ellie from the brink of death, you get caught with having to live with two more strays.., and you don't do strays.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡either ways, i hope y'all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

warnings; eventual +18 content! MINORS DONT INTERACT IN THE CHAPTERS WHERE IT IS IMPLIED IN THE WARNINGS and smut, mentions of death, possible deaths, blood, fighting, angst, fluff..

warnings for chapter 5; angst, loss, ellie and reader getting closer <3 (man i love them), guns, daggers, blood, wounds, weapons, tension, cursing, fear, ptsd, joel and reader get closer…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

a/n; omg in so excited, the tension is growingggg

You had been awake for hours, unable to move from this bed that surrounded you like a big tight hug. You knew you shouldn’t let it, should get up and start moving, start one more day…

And you too knew that Ellie was on the other side of the door, waiting. You had heard her pacing around, getting closer, almost knocking but always sighing and stepping back. Now she was sitting against it, you could see the shadow, hear her head moving from time to time and her soft breathing.

You got up, a groan falling from your lips when your side throbbed and pinched. Fucking bitch knew how to kick…

You sighed when you opened the door and Ellie, who was fully leaning on it, fell backwards into the room. She looked at you from below, eyes shot open and you gave her an unamused stare before inhaling deep and stepping outside, dodging her. She sat up as you entered your room, exiting it shortly after taking a new change of clothes, and stood up as you closed the bathroom’s door behind your back. She stood there silently, hearing as you turned the shower on and bathed.

The mirror reflected your messy state, your bruised cheek and sticky skin bathed in blood. You didn’t waste time to scrub it off, thanking the water pouring on your body.

You didn’t take long, being efficient in putting on your clean clothes —along with the dirty ones to wash up— and leaving the bathroom.

She was in the same spot you had left her. And you went back into the room dodging her…, again.

You could feel her need to be near, to talk to you, to do anything that could help. You could almost touch her worry as you started to rummage the bloody bedsheets and making them onto a ball to go and put them to wash along with your clothes.

“Ellie?” you called for her, stopping the ruffling of sheets, and she perked up.

“…Yeah?” she asked, her voice careful.

“Are you gonna keep boring holes on the back of my head or are you gonna come in?” you said, and she stepped inside as quickly as she could, almost stumbling. Her eyes met yours, and she swallowed. She didn’t move.

It had surprised her, you letting her in. She was ready to wait ‘till you would come out. She was not ready for this. Hell, it had surprised even you.

She took in the surroundings, took in the art, the photos, the books…

“Are you… Are you okay?” her eyes were away from you, on the floor. You knew she was nervous by the way one of her hands was scratching her neck.

“Oh yeah, brat. Never been better.” you sarcastically said and she stood there, silently, her eyes everywhere. You sighed, taking a seat on the naked duvet. “She was really cool.” you said, and she looked at you. “Kind of annoying, like you, but cool.” she huffed at your semi-compliment. At least you didn’t hate her… “It’s been a year… And everything looks the same.” you sighed, your eyes dreamy on her artworks.

“She was great.” she said, pointing at her sketches.

“She truly was. He wanted to be a tattoo artist. Got a gun and everything.” you said. “Carved one on my back for her first time.” you chuckled, and she smiled.

“Can I… See it?” she inquired, and that caught you by surprise.

“You want to see it?” you frowned.

“I’ve just never seen a tattoo before. Only on pictures.” she said and you nodded, muttering a ‘sure’ that made her get excited.

You turned her back to her and slowly shifted up your white sleeveless top, revealing at the middle of your back a big black moth.

She took it in, eyes open and mouth ajar. She stepped closer, and one of his hands rose with the need to touch it, but she retracted it. It was beautiful. “How… Does it feel like? To get a tattoo I mean.” she says, and you turned back to her, letting your top hide your tattoo once again.

“It hurts. But it feels awesome when its finally done.”

“I want one.” she said, and you scoffed.

“You’re too young for that kind of stuff, kid.” Kid. Well, at least it was better than ‘brat’.

“I’m not. When did you get yours?”

“When I was sixteen.” you answered.

“I’m sixteen!” she said and you laughed.

“Bullshit!”

“Okay, fourteen. But does it even matter? It’s practically the same!” she said and you shook your head.

“It’s not.” she frowned and practically pouted. You rolled your eyes. “Look. Once you turn sixteen we’ll get you one, alright? Hell, I’ll even pay for it.” you offered and she lighted up like a firework.

“Really?”

“Sure.” you said, and she smiled so bright that you almost followed her.

You went back to your shuffling, stripping the pillows off their covers.

“Hey, y/n…?” she asked and you hummed. “I’m sorry. About Laura.” she said, and you looked at her, after a few seconds nodding slowly.

You two fell back onto that silence that seemed to follow you everywhere. Only this time, you decided to break it.

“Hey, brat?” you called for her and her eyebrows rose, paying attention. “I saw that you finished those comics of yours.” you said, giving her your back to take a hold on something in between your hands. You smiled softly as one of your palms slowly dragged against the pages, over the drawings and inked letters. “You should give this one a try. It’s a really good one.” you said, closing the book that had been open for a year to hand it to her. She took it with such a great care… As if it was made of the most rich porcelain and could break with just a mere whisper.

‘Alice in Wonderland’ she red on the cover.

“What is it about?” she asked, and you smiled.

“You’ll have to read it to find out.”

Ellie was really enjoying the book, you could see it. She had not put it down the whole day except for eating and a kick trip to the bathroom.

Joel opens the door to your house, you keys having been copied for him since he had started helping Larry on the farm.

“What are you reading, kid?” Joel asks, a box full of food in between his arms. Probably from Larry’s. He always insisted on sending you more and more…

“Alice in wonderland.” she answered, monotone, too focused on the book to even look at him.

“Don’t try and make her talk, Joel, I’ve had a pretty good and silent day with her glued to that thing.” you warned him from the balcony, your naked feet against the ice cold flooring and your eyes still looking at the sunset.

His eyes found you, and he stared at you. At you and your gray baggy sweats, at you and your white sleeveless tank top, the cigarette in between your lips…

He sighed and walked towards you, opening the sliding door to take a seat next to you, closing it back up so the smoke wouldn’t get inside.

You looked alright. That was good.

“Pretty face you’ve got, huh?” you said, and she glared at your before scoffing, shaking his head.

“Just as sweet as always, aren’t you?” he rolled his eyes and took a cigarette out of his pocket. “Thanks.” that’s what he said when you offered him light to burn it. “Larry asked about you, he’s worried.” you sighed.

You didn’t answer, you were fine, okay. You had been scared shitless yesterday, and still felt a little shaken up, but breathing in Laura last night had really helped you get up that morning, try and heal a little bit more through the day.

Joel’s leg was shaking, a nervous and anxious tick that always seemed to came back after tense days. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, wanted you to tell him that you were okay. After yesterday events… He needed you to look at him.

You spent hours like this, watching the sun disappear and the night fall, in silence, him being focused on you and you being focused on him. The present. Something you never focused on lately.

He had gone inside after having caught Ellie completely passed out on the sofa, book still in hand. He tried to take it away from her as he softly woke her up to take her to bed, but she grumbled something that you couldn’t hear and hugged it closer to her chest. Oh no, there was no way she was letting go of it now. She was gonna sleep with that thing.

“What the hell did you do to her? She didn’t even let me put it on the night table.” he said as he came back onto the balcony, first-aid kit in hand to start cleaning up the wounds on his body.

You looked at him once he was back on his chair, new cigarette lit in between your lips. You took a long drag and exhaled. “It was Laura’s.” you said and his eyes widened just the slightest.

“y/n, you didn’t have to…”

“It’s okay.” you cut him off. “I wanted to. And she would have too. She would have loved for someone else to enjoy her books. She loved them.” you said, and he could swear his breath hitched when an almost imperceptible smile crept on your soft pink lips.

He nodded, silently, and unbuttoned the sleeves of his flannel, letting see the new cuts and bruises from yesterday’s fight. You looked away when you’d caught yourself staring to the muscles clenching under his tanned skin, his biceps pressing against the shirt.

You cleared your throat and took another drag of your cigarette, filling your lungs with an oxygen that seemed to not exist.

Joel cleaned his wounds silently, rubbing alcohol on them like he had for the last decades. New scars would decorate his body, but that was okay. ‘Cause that meant that he had survived, he was still alive.

Soon enough he was done with her arms and had to move up to his face. You watched him struggle to find the right spot, struggle to clean the cut on his forehead properly.

You softly took the cotton from his hand, and he looked at you as you moved your chair closer to him. So close he could smell your shampoo, your deodorant and your perfume. It was intoxicating, but not as much as your presence, as your closeness.

He hissed when you pressed it against the cut, and even if his hands twitched with the need to stop you, he didn’t. You were focused on cleaning it up, on making sure it didn’t get infected, and he was focused on looking at you. At your pretty eyes and soft skin, your long curled lashes and your teeth biting down on your bottom lip in concentration. His heart was beating fast, hard against his ribs. He wanted you to be closer, to held you like he had yesterday, to help you heal the wounds that weren’t on the surface, but inside of you, throbbing with every one of your breaths.

You put ointment on it before moving to the cut on his bottom lip. That was the one that hurt the most. You noticed when he softly gripped your wrist.

He never pushed you away, only closer.

You looked at his lips, at how soft and plump they seemed. You looked away for just a mere second to leave the cotton aside and take in between your hands the ointment once again. He let go of your wrist, but your skin was still crawling on goosebumps, and you could still feel the warmth of his touch, remember the warmth of his hug. You wanted more. You’d been freezing for a year.

Your index finger met his bottom lip once again, spreading the ointment softly onto the cut. Tomorrow it would be almost closed and wouldn’t hurt anymore. He took a deep breath at the feeling of your touch, of your soft yet cold fingers.

You had already finished covering it completely, helping him. But you couldn’t pull away. Your finger softly outlining the plush of his lips. His eyes met your own when your tongue unconsciously dampened them. Your heart was beating hard, your skin breaking like ice under the sun. What is it that you wanted?

Your hand met his jaw as you thumb now pressed against the cut, smearing the ointment a little bit more even if it wasn’t necessary. You didn’t do it for him. You were doing it for yourself. ‘Cause your body was begging to be touched, to be held, and your mind was reeling with his warmth.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he whispered, and that’s when you met his eyes. They were dark, darker than the night, and soft, softer than your touch on him. You looked at him, with that goddamn beautiful face of yours, and he felt like melting, like dying when you looked away and let him go.

You silently stood up from your seat and walked inside your apartment, leaving him behind as you closed Laura’s door behind your back.

Your breathing was shaky, and your hands were clammy. This is trouble. You shouldn’t. Nothing good would come out of this. You couldn’t loose no one else, couldn’t up your heart once again just to get it broken again.

You tried to make up your mind, try to promise your heart to stay low, to stay safe. But you found yourself having yet another night when your mind wouldn’t shut up and your eyes would stay open.

And worst of all, found yourself looking through Laura’s desk cabinets ‘till your hands finally found that metallic little box that you swore would never touch again.

Soon enough, your fingertips were stained, and the hours seemed shorter.

The sound of something falling and breaking on the salon startled you. Your hands left aside what they were holding, your body jolting alive from your seat. Was there someone inside?

You took one of your daggers in your hand, cursing after having left your gun on top of the dinning table.

You stepped outside the room, softly, lurking. Your eyes adapted to the dark and noticed the light coming from the kitchen. You stepped closer, and that’s when you heard it.

“Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” you let down your dagger, let it aside on the table, next to your gun.

“Ellie?” she turned to you, following your voice. She was holding something in between her hands. Something broken. A mug.

You looked at the floor, there was some of the ceramic little pieces that she couldn’t get left, decorating it like snow.

“What’s going on?” you inquired and stepped closer.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I was trying to make some of that tea you drink to fall asleep but then it slipped and… Shit, I’m sorry for breaking it.” she blurted out, and you hushed her by taking her shoulders.

“It’s fine.” you said, and she shook your head.

“But-“

“Ellie. It’s fine. It’s just a mug.” you promised, and she let you take it from her hands to dump it on the trash can. “Now… Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” you inquired, looking at her, and she looked away, growing quieter…

“I…, had a nightmare.” she confessed, and your eyes softened. Oh.

She was awkwardly hugging herself, seeming little, seeming just like what she was: a kid.

You silently went towards the stove, where the tea she had sneaked from your jar was boiling and took the pot. You poured it on a new mug for her to sip from, and softly and carefully handed it to her.

She took it with just the same care, enjoying the warmth of it against her fingers.

“Come on.” you simply said, and she followed behind you, slowly stepping inside Laura’s room when you did. She looked just as dazzled as the first time.

You closed the door and that’s when she noticed the staining on your fingertips, the pages filled with charcoal all over the desk. She walked closer, and took a peak.

“Were you…, drawing?” she inquired and you let out a little smile, nodding, this time being you the one feeling embarrassed. “But… I thought Laura was the one who did.” you let out a soft chuckle that made her chest grew warm.

“Sure. But who do you think teached her?” her eyes widened and her mouth fell on a surprised smile.

“You dick!” you laughed when she whispered, inspecting the drawings. Some of them were simple, like flowers and animals, others were more complicated, like portraits of people you knew: Lizzy, Larry, Laura… Joel. She frowned just the slightest, but instead of questioning your motives and make you uncomfortable, she rather asked a: “Hey, and what about me?!”

You looked at her and her scowl. “You want me to draw you?” you eyebrows rose.

“Heck yeah. Though I’ll get mad if you make me look bad.” your chest bubbled with a new laughter.

“Alright. But first let me finish up the one I was drawing, alright?” she nodded and you took a seat on the desk, grabbing the charcoal in between your fingers once again. She stepped closed, inching by your side to watch as you sketched some leaves. Her stomach fell and her eyes shone. It was really simple, but truly beautiful. There was a moth, just like the one tattooed on your bag, with its wings spread open and showing her patterns, standing on two plants with their leaves fully exposed.

“It’s beautiful.” she whispered, and you felt your heart flutter. You never showed people your drawings, didn’t like to brag about your skills or let them out onto the world for it to see, but it had been a long time since someone complimented them, and that made you feel better. Maybe you hadn’t lost your touch after all.

“This?” you inquired as you rose the finished piece. “It’s not that impressive.” you shrugged and let her take it as he pushed the cup away and onto the free side of the desk, away from your sketches.

“Can I keep it?” her eyes full of hope and light looked into yours, and you melted.

“Sure.” you accepted and she only smiled harder, making you smile just the slightest as well.

She gave you her back, inspecting it over her head. She looked so happy. It was a mere simple drawing yet it had made her so happy… Made her forget everything about the nightmares that sometimes tormented her on her sleep.

You looked at her and back to your drawings, his face catching your attention. You hadn’t even noticed you had drawn him, drawn his side profile as he smoked, his eyes as he looked at you…

You pushed it underneath the rest as you rummaged them to clear up a little the space, trying to bury it where it belonged, deep into your head.

Ellie finished up her tea as you cleaned up, and after a couple of minutes of her chatting you up about all kind of stuff; about what she’d have liked to be if the world hadn’t turned into what it was now, about how she’d have loved to travel up and away into the sky, into the space, where only the starts would ever talk to her, she fell asleep on Laura’s bed, her new drawing on the night table behind her back. She was breathing slowly beside you, her wavy hair a mess all over her face. You shook your head with a smile and softly pushed it away and behind her ear.

You didn’t like strays. Didn’t like new people. Change.

But for once in your life, you hoped this feeling wouldn’t go away.

That they would stay.

taglist; ♡

@bubbles-for-all-of-us @hiphopdancer101universe @amethystwonders11 @mmeerraa @azxulaa @euovennia @twilightsbiggestfan @dabria14 @minaxcarter @lynndaline @frogjumps-world @cassiepascal @mdnigts @fudosl @batweildinglittlepysco @doodlebob-mp3 @boh3mian @saintmagx @scaredknight @ipadkidsworld @somebodytookmyusername @natalia42069 @cassrox @seninjakitey @maddsfilms @issybee0611 @corpsebridenightamare @eddie-munsons-slut @wren-2-d @hiroikegawa

pedro pascal’s masterlist <3

624 notes · View notes

hapuriainen · 10 months

Text

Some comparisons of the “Disney girls if they were the player character in a pokemon game” designs, the earliest being from 2012.

Snow White - hasn’t changed much from the initial idea. For the most recent version aside from the improved colours (which really goes for all of these) I made the pocket a bit more sensible in size and less bland with the logo and changed the sleeves into something a little less costume-y looking. And apparently I had never bothered to check what her eye colour is supposed to be before?

Cinderella - I think the first one is way too tomboyish for Cinderella so it was a good idea to give her a skirt instead. And stop trying to copy the hairstyle as is, how is it supposed to work anyway? The most recent version is supposed to be wearing see-through plastic sneakers which was the closest equivalent of a glass slipper I could think of, but I don’t think you can see that well enough from this far.

Alice - I also like the original idea but it does look a bit too much like a costume. The more recent version is one of my favourites of the set, both with the design and how the art turned out overall.

Tinkerbell - I remember being dissatisfied with the first version (mostly for being boring) and thought I should have given her shorts instead, so here is that now. The top could still use some work though.

Aurora - She feels like she’s incrementally getting towards my ideal design but isn’t there quite yet. I probably should have done more with the half pink-half blue thing.

Eilonwy - not a lot to work with about her, though what is up with the shoes on the middle one?

Ariel - I don’t know what I was thinking with the turtleneck in the middle one, it’s supposed to be a warm weather design. Though to be fair sandals would be a better fit for that, but I like the stockings to represent her tail. Also apparently I got obscenely lazy with the shoes with the most recent one.

Belle - has barely changed at all, I remember being very happy with the initial design. Though now that I think about it the bag probably should use a different shade of blue. I’ve also done an earlier design with the yellow dress, but it’s so monochrome that it’s a bit hard to work with it.

Jasmine - I clearly wasn’t even trying with the first design, it’s just her canon outfit with very minor tweaks and a pokeball, and the second one isn’t any better. But to me Jasmine had one of the biggest glow ups with the most recent design and the art turned out cute as well.

Pocahontas - I really like the pants and would have liked to use them again, but then I thought, “is this problematic”, and ended up not using the tassel fringe thing. Overall she was a huge struggle and I’m not happy with the result at all, Pocahontas’ canon design has a lot of elements to work with, but I tried so many versions of one sleeved/one sleeve off the shoulder/layered tops and they all looked like a dancer or a figure skater. And I also attempted a tunic-like design like Yellow but that just looked like a LoZ oc. So this design is definitely subject to change if I redo everyone again in ten years. At least her face turned out cute..

Esmeralda - Another mess in both attempts, her canon design also has a lot of interesting details but somehow the best I could do with ended up being a schoolgirl? In my defense she was among the last characters I drew for this set and at that point I was just burnt out and ready to move to something else, so it was either this or not being drawn at all. Better luck next time!

Megara - the first attempt is pretty random and lazy and I don’t like it at all, but I do like how the second one turned out. Overall it does skew a bit too young though especially for a character like Megara, but she’s a kid here so maybe it’s ok?

Mulan - she is my favourite Disney heroine so it’s always frustrated me that I had never been able to really get the Poke design to work. But this time it somehow clicked that I could take inspiration from the male protagonists instead. I think the details could still do some workshopping but overall I like the result this time around.

Jane - the first one isn’t a Poketrainer at all, it’s just a jungle explorer anime girl. Though I guess there’s not much change in the second one either...

Kida - this has always been somewhat of a “just throw random ideas in there” kind of design and especially the first one I clearly had no idea what I was doing. In the most recent version I think the decision to move the mark to her hat was the best update, a facial tattoo on the supposed average kid feels kind of strange.

Giselle - I really like the most recent one, it’s one of the most dynamic poses and I think it has a nice balance of “fine lady” and “going on a Pokemon adventure”. Not sure if any of them are properly recognisable as Giselle though.

Tiana - as you can see I have no idea what to do with her. I don’t know what’s wrong, there’s so much to work with her canon design but nothing ever works out properly. Many of my ideas, like poofy pants (because of the dress shape) also felt too kiddy and so out of character for Tiana who is at the more mature end of Disney princesses. Still, with the most recent attempt there is a lot I like, but somehow it doesn’t quite fit together and I now notice that repeating the flower shape everywhere is pretty awkward. Sorry Tiana! Maybe fourth time is the charm.

Charlotte - the first attempts feel too much like a formal party outfit instead of something for an adventure, so I had to lose the updo at least. The hat is a little silly but I figured it would fit the goofier Charlotte. I do like the bubble skirt (one of the abandoned Tiana ideas) but the top could still use some work.

Rapunzel - very pleased with how the most recent one turned out apart from the hair looking a little too brown, it’s supposed to be just shading and not two-tone hair.

Merida - I’ve never figured out how to do her hair in Pokemon form and her canon dress is pretty stingy with workable details. I got the idea of using plaid from Sword/Shield, but I noticed everyone and their mother already drew Merida in a plaid shirt so I put it on her shorts instead. But in hindsight maybe I should have just gone with the flow.

Vanellope - her design is really fun to work with and the result is one of my favourites. With the newer version I realised that I tend to use white a lot when I don’t know what to do, which usually is at least inoffensive, but that there could be a more interesting option if I dare to try something else (talking about the socks here).

Anna - quite pleased with how the new version turned out but it could still do with some work, what was I thinking with black boots and almost-black tights?

Elsa - I really like how the cardigan thing turned out, except for the fact that I realised I had already used practically the same thing for Aurora (but hers is more boring so it’s the one subject to change). Meanwhile the dress is pretty bland. The leggings use the ice type uniform design from Sword/Shield.

Moana - Another victim of the “I have to churn out something” project finale. I think I already had this queued and had to go back to doing at least some fixes because the initial version was somehow even more boring. I think the loose pants idea is very workable but she’ll just need more time and effort.

Raya, Mirabel - they’re too recent to have a comparison but let’s have a few words on them anyway. I just couldn’t get anything out of Raya’s design (though she was one of the last characters to be drawn and also I really don’t like her movie so I was very much not in a mood to try very hard) so the result ended up pretty boring and definitely waiting for a redesign. As for Mirabel I like her look a lot more and especially the skirt practically designed itself, but this still kinda feels like a first draft.

#disney #pokemon #comparison #art evolution

295 notes · View notes

iamasaddie · 6 months

Note

Never Have I Ever read a Librarian! Marcus P fic. 🥰 I’m not really a Marcus P kinda girl, more of a Dave York (iykyk) girl BUT as someone who works at a library, Marcus P would be the best guy to get lost in the book shelves with 🤭😏

Hi, birdie <3 This is actually such a sweet idea! I haven't seen fics like this either! At first, I was just gonna send this ask out sending writers that see this your idea for a fic. But then I thought about it and something hit me, so here's my take on librarian!Marcus Pike. I gave it my own twist, but I hope you can still enjoy it <3

you're such a heavenly view

paring: Marcus Pike x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 2.1k~ summary: He wants to be in love again. He's just not really sure how. a/n: This was written on a whim. Thank you to the amazing anon for planting the thought of librarian Marcus in my head <3 Not beta-ed, all mistakes are my own so pls don't plagiarize them. warnings: pining, Marcus Pike is shy and horny, male masturbation; no use of y/n MY MASTERLIST

Marcus loved the quiet.

He loved the whisper of turning pages and scribbling pens being the only noise in the spacious library he worked at. A humdrum nine-to-five that most people tried to escape became his salvation. He felt calm, at peace, a feeling that wasn’t prominent in his life before.

When he came here over two years ago just to help his old friend out, with his heart ripped to shreds and falling apart, the walls of this place held it together. And then you and your gentle smiles as you checked out books put bandaids all over it, so it started healing.

Marcus first saw you a year ago, by that time he was already comfortably moving along the labyrinths of the abode of books, knowing every section almost by heart. He still remembered your tiny manicured fingers nervously tapping the reception table as he looked through the computer base for the availability of Giorgio Vasari’s "Lives of the Artists". Before you, art section was one he never frequented for two reasons: first, he didn’t need the reminder of the past that he tried to separate from his present; and second, he knew pretty much every book there by heart.

As his eyes bore into the screen, looking for the right title, with his peripheral vision he saw you burning a hole in the side of his face. Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle, it was a while since a beautiful woman had been interested in him. Or since he noticed. You hurried to stray your gaze away, and his smile became bigger, now showing his teeth. You saw him noticing you and got flustered, that only meant that you staring was intentional. Marcus confirmed that the book you needed was available, but since it was a rare edition you couldn’t leave with it. The library was surprisingly empty for the first month of autumn, but at least you wouldn’t have any problems with staying and doing your research there. You nodded, agreeing with him. The place was quite cozy, you thought that to yourself the moment you entered from the windy autumn street.

"Let me show you to the art section, it’s pretty difficult to navigate these corridors the first time you’re here." Marcus left the librarian desk he had been occupying for the last year and motioned his hand to the right direction.

"Only the first?" You raised your eyebrows and smiled. Damn, you were beautiful in your flared jeans and a big white t-shirt with a warm-looking sweater on top. Your hair in a messy bun, either it was messy because of the wind or because you wanted it to be. Anyway, you looked fantastic like that, so Marcus smiled back automatically.

"Well, the first fifty."

You laughed, and he stumbled at the sound. Marcus felt his cheeks burn with pride, he forgot how pleasant it was to make a pretty girl laugh.

It was over a year ago, and still he remembered that beautiful sound you let out. One of the beautiful moments you shared that he kept sealed in his mind. Even though all your interactions were friendly, and sometimes borderline flirtatious, something always stopped Pike, and he got used to seeing you leaving with a nod and a tight-lipped smile, now almost never lifting your eyes up to meet his as you sat studying behind one of the many similar wooden tables.

He cursed himself, cursed his cowardice and the fact that he got panic attacks any time he tried to tell you a compliment. He hated that he became tongue-tied whenever you asked his opinion on one of the books you checked out. And when his brain was swarming with knowledge, the influences the author had, or the way the work was transcending the time it was written in; his mouth only said ‘it’s a good book’ or worse ‘it’s not bad’. He wanted to punch himself, but that would mean lifting his arms that were numb and limp on both sides of his body.

Today was not an exception, unfortunately. Marcus was sitting behind his desk, pristine, clean and occupied only by his work computer and a book he had been reading during the quiet times. You came over less than half an hour ago, saying your usual hello and asking about yet another book on art. You’d almost read them all, and Marcus was frantically thinking what would happen when you check out the last book from the art section, a place in the library that no one else went to. He told you where to find a copy of "Janson’s History of Art" and you nodded, going in the right direction without needing his help anymore. You didn't look up at him when you took your usual place near the window and placed the book on the table.

Marcus sighed, looking as you brows furrowed when you read something and started rewriting it in your notebook. Art section was your place. Yours and his. It was special, at least for him. He had walked you there exactly forty nine times. Not because you couldn’t remember where to go, no, you were confident in your stride the third time; but because it became a sort of a joke between the two of you. Sometimes you’d just come over and ask him to show you where the art section was, telling him that it was only your 21st, 33rd, 45th time in the library and you didn’t have the opportunity to learn all the right turns yet. He laughed, but always walked you there. Sometimes you were silent, sometimes you’d ask him silly questions (‘What is the rarest book here?’ 'First edition of Oscar Wilde's "The Happy Prince and Other Tales" with the author's inscription.’; ‘What is the worst thing a person did in the library?’ ‘Tried to rip a page out of the first edition of Oscar Wilde's "The Happy Prince and Other Tales"’; ‘Did you stop them?’ ‘Kind of.’; ‘Is the horror section haunted?’ ‘Yes.’). You hadn’t asked him to walk you to the art section for a month now. Marcus even wanted to suggest it himself, but his tongue felt too heavy and big for his mouth whenever he tried.

So he was left with watching. Just like dozens of times before. As he quietly observed from a distance, Marcus couldn't help but lose himself in the beauty of your presence amidst the mundane decorations of his workplace.He thought that he knew you face better than his own by now. The structure of your cheekbones, the curve of your lip, the depth of your cupid’s bow. He could close his eyes and draw you in his sleep. You were engrossed in the book when another wave of hot air from the AC above you tousled your hair. Winter this year was abnormally cold, so to keep the building warm Marcus had to turn up the temperature on the AC pretty high. Maybe he overdid it today. He saw you wiping a lonely droplet of sweat running from your temple. Yes, he definitely overdid it today.

He reached to stand up and go to the temperature controller when you started tugging up your usual bulky green sweater, and dropped back into his chair as the material of your sweater and t-shirt stuck together, so you almost took both items off. Marcus choked on his saliva seeing so much of you that he never saw before. Sure, you wore knee-length shorts and oversized t-shirts during summer, sometimes you even put on a dress when it was too hot for anything else, but this was different. The swell of your naked stomach, the almost-not-there lacy edge of your black bra, fuck, it felt so intimate.

Marcus squeezed his thighs under the table, his cock getting hard with every thought his brain provides. Fuck, it was really not a time or a place for a boner, but you looked so… He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and trying to relax, but instead of that he saw images of your naked skin over and over again, followed by fake scenarios where he ripped the shirt off you, kissing your willing body with his greedy mouth. Marcus could almost feel the softness of your skin under his palms, and he bit his lower lip at the phantom feeling, trying to suppress a moan.

He didn’t notice how his legs brought him to the secluded area of the art section, his hands hysterically pulling out his stiff cock from the confines of his pants, while his mind completely shut off.

It was almost primal, the incandescent feeling inside him that made him spit in the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his shaft.

"Fuck," his whisper was quiet, even though it was unlikely that anyone could hear him anyway. There were less than eight patrons when he left the main hall, all of them engrossed in their literature of choice, and he still had an hour before he had to close.

His spit-slicked hand tightened around his cock as he moved it up and down, circling the weeping head every time. Goddamn, he was sick. Fucked up. Getting hard after seeing the stomach of the girl he had been swooning over for almost a year. What in the teenage hormones was this bullshit?

Your skin, the swelling of your stomach, the tiny dip of your belly button. Fuck, he wanted to dip his tongue in the little canyon of your body and hear you suffocating on giggles.

Up, down, up, down.

He looked down, watching his hand methodically moving around his fat cock. As he got closer to his orgasm, the veins that led from the base to the tip of his cock became more pronounced, the head getting darker with every stroke. "God-fucking-dammit, baby," he dropped his head back, punching a wall but barely noticing any pain as he got succumbed by his pleasure. "So fucking gorgeous. Mine. Mine. Only mine."

If anyone heard Marcus, they’d consider him a psycho, his hoarse whisper feverishly calling someone his when he was the only one in the room. He didn’t give a single fuck. In his little fantasy, right now, you were his. Only for him to touch, only for him to love. He tripped over the edge, as his mind flooded by the memory when you first laughed at his joke, and he came all over his fist moaning your name as quietly as possible, as four thick ropes of cum painted his skin pearly white.

Marcus didn’t hear the footsteps, orgasm claiming every sense in his body until he heard a quiet ‘oh’, the voice too familiar to mistake its’ owner.

"Fuck, fuck, oh God, sorry, this is not what you think it is." His eyes went wide at the sight of you. You were pressing your copy of "Janson’s History of Art" to your chest, face curious and almost… amused? He pulled his boxers up, trying not to wince when the thick rubber band scratched the sensitive skin of his spent cock.

"Isn’t it?" You raised your eyebrows at Marcus, and he remembered that he was still standing in front of you with his pants fully undone and his boxers stained with the cum he wiped on them in a hurry.

"No." He shook his head frantically, tugging on the zipper and trying to quickly zip it up when the hem of his shirt stuck in it and he cursed, almost tearing it out.

"So you weren’t just masturbating thinking of me, and the fact that you moaned my name as you came was just a coincidence?"

'How long had you been standing there?' Marcus thought. He heard your steps closing in on him, but didn’t dare to raise his eyes to see the disgust on your face. Instead, he continued fighting with the zipper.

"Yes," he nodded, and then immediately shook his head. "No. Look, I can explain." Marcus searched his brain for the right answer, for something that could fix all of this mess, but coming up empty. His sigh was deep, almost hurting his lungs as he gave up. "Okay, I maybe can’t explain, I’m just… Sorry."

"I’m not."

He snapped his head up so fast that the sides of his vision went black for half of a second. "What?"

You were close. Very close. If you reached your arm out you could help him with a zipper he abandoned in stupor.

"I was planning to come over at the last moment tomorrow and ask you to walk me here," you stepped even closer, placing your hand on his chest and feeling the rapid fire of Marcus’ heartbeat. "You know, for our last time."

He just nodded, the blood pumping in his ears made it almost impossible to understand what you were saying, so he just stared at your lips, unconsciously licking his.

"And then," both your hands circled his neck, burrowing in the slightly damp hair at his nape, "I was going to blow you right against the rare editions shelf."

"Wha..—"

Marcus wasn’t able to finish when your lips crushed into his, tasting each other for the first time. Suddenly, he wasn’t so tongue-tied anymore.

PLEASE WRITE A COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THE STORY ♥︎

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #iamasaddie fic #pedro pascal fic #the mentalist fic

144 notes · View notes