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minhosimthings · 23 days

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Gilded Skin || 18+

Synopsis: A makeout session with your tattoo artist neighbour

Pairings: tattoo artist!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, Dom!Jay, sub!reader, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, manhandling because idk I love Jay's hands, kinda pervert Jay, unprotected sex (not for you), swearing, use of "sweetheart"

A/N: for you my beloved @jaeyunluvr. Also possibly my last work for in a while since I'm getting kinda busy!

Tattoos.

Controversial (to some people) as they were, you loved them.

The mere thought of getting a tattoo scared you though, yes they were pretty, but number one, money and number two, needles. But soon enough, your friend, Heeseung, who was ironically a tattoo artist himself convinced you to pay a visit to the tattoo parlour.

Normally you would have refused, stating the usual excuse of 'I'm busy maybe next time?'. But lo and behold to Heeseung's ears you agreed this time.

"It's because of that hot guy there isn't it?" Heeseung snickered, his hands on the steering wheel as he drove you to the parlour.

'That hot guy' aka your new neighbour, aka the tattoo artist at the new tattoo parlour that had opened up down the street.

Even though it had been just a two minute walk's distance from you, Heeseung insisted on coming to the parlour with you. Although his actual motives were to see you absolutely melt infront of the man you had a cunt-destroying crush on, he kept on with the absolute lie that he was trying to be a supportive friend, and also obseve the artists at the parlor.

"He has a name you know." You rolled your eyes as Heeseung parked his car into the alleyway, "It's Jay or something."

"So we can no longer call him 'hot guy'?" Heeseung asked, seemingly amused by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, "Shame, I liked that nickname. What do you like about him anyway?"

What did you like about him. What answer could you have possibly given to that? Of course there were so many factors. The fact that he was your new neighbour but you still hadn't talked to him, the fact that he fed the street cats, the fact that he-

"His hands."

Heeseung's reaction was... appropriate to say the least. His choking on air made you roll your eyes, as you slapped his back to make him calm down. Then after a few moments of silence, he burst out laughing.

"His WHAT?" Heeseung held his stomach as raucous laughs escaped his lips, "Please don't tell me you're being serious right now." He doubled over again, almost hitting his head to the car's ceiling.

"Oh shut up, you're talking as if you're any better." You rolled your eyes, opening the car door, with Heeseung doing the same, "Remember last September when you-"

"Do not even start right now." Heeseung glared, slamming his car door shut, "Come on, don't want to keep the hands waiting do we?"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out rather too quickly, you pushed on the neon pink decorated door, which opened with a tinkling sound. The smell of lavender hung around, an unfamiliar scent for a tattoo store, which was covered in rock posters from head to toe, along with a few blue beads here and there, the kind Heeseung liked to collect.

"Hey." You greeted the red haired girl behind the counter, "I have an appointment under the name Y/N."

The girl looked up and sent you a quick smile before looking down at her computer, her eyes whipping around before finding a spot she thought was satisfactory.

"Yep right here." She popped her lips together, "I'll see if anyone is free Ma'am, could you wait for a minute?"

You smiled at her as if to say yes and plopped down on the couch next to Heeseung, who had been analysing the store with a lot of vigour in his eyes.

"It's fancy." He whispered, eyeing the girl at the counter, "Let's just hope your man comes out and you can get to catcall him before he goes."

"I am not going to catcall him, im not you." You chuckled, getting distracted from the conversation when you saw a black haired figure from the corner of your eye.

"Is that-?" Heeseung didn't even have to finish his sentence. He knew, judging from the look in your eyes and the fact that your mouth fell slightly open, that this was the person he ever so passionately called "your man".

You were mesmerised.

No, mesmerised wasn't the right word.

You were starstruck.

Maybe your hormones were on a whole different level, maybe you had just been dick-deprived for a long time, or maybe it was the lavender fumes, but you truly thought you had seen a Greek God fill the vision of your corneas.

"Y/N. Y/N!"

You felt Heeseung's elbow jab you painfully in the side, which was effective in breaking you out of your stupor. You blinked a couple of times, to see the red haired woman and Jay looking at you in what seemed to be amusement.

The woman coughed to defuse the seeming tention, you swore you could feel Heeseung awkwardly smiling for your left.

Well they always say bad beginnings have good endings don't they?

"So," A steady hand carefully polished the silver of the miniscule needle, "Y/N was it?"

Though the air conditioning was turned onto a high, you could feel sweat drops form at your forehead, why were his hands polishing the needle so erotically?

"Y-Yeah. You're Jay right?" You managed to cough out, feeling yourself immediately melt into the chair leather chain again when his eyes fell on you. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, seemingly darting around to catch it's prey, but never leaving one point of focus.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled, "Don't be, unless you're chronically afraid of needles."

"I am." You laughed, leaning back a little more comfortably on the chair, "Probably shouldn't have gotten a tattoo then should I?"

"Perhaps not on your most sensitive area." Jay nodded, sitting in front of you, his legs spread wide open, did he realise how welcoming that was to you?, "Most people go for the arm, I'm surprised you went for your thigh."

"Heeseung told me it doesn't hurt much." You braced yourself in the chair at the sight of Jay's needle pressing into his tattoo machine, "He's a tattoo artist too."

"I should make a friend of him then." Jay chuckled, looking into your eyes, he could bore deepwells in them and you thought you'd forgive such a handsome man like him, "How did you meet him?"

"Are you-" you gave him a funny look, "Are you trying to make conversation with me?"

"It helps most of them." Jay shrugged and smiled at you, you noticed his dimple come off his cheek, the one you saw last week, whilst spying on him from your bedroom window.

"So, new neighbour who I've never talked to until now," Jay raised his eyes up to you, "How about some conversation to lessen the pain?"

You had always known since you were a child that you had the attention span of a butterfly, eyes always zooming from one place to the other, but you never knew all you needed was a handsome face and some pretty hands to get you to focus.

Jay's deep voice soothed into your nerves, effectively proving his theory of "more talk, less pain". You hadn't noticed much of the tattooing process, except for a few instances here and there when his knuckles brushed across the skin of your thigh, making you mold your orgasmic whimpers into 'painful' winces. You could physically hear Heeseung in your brain telling you about your pain kink.

"So any relationship goals?" Jay asked you, your eyes briefly meeting with his, as his fingers stopped to move across the cross section, "I know that's sorta personal, don't answer if you don't want to."

"No it's fine." You laughed, pretending as if you didn't maniacally want to answer the question, "I'm still single for now, and as for goals, I'm free for ramen tomorrow, and that's it."

"So how about ramen tomorrow then?" Jay smiled, looking up at you, his hands coming to a halt and resting softly on your thigh.

"Will we be eating or will we be talking like this?" You chuckled, your brain fog capturing you entirely as you had no idea what words were coming out of your mouth, "Because to be honest, I'd just be staring at either your lips or your hands if we do either of them."

The most painful part of getting a tattoo, according to the internet, was the beginning part, when you'd be so scared, because apparently fear paralyses you more than the actual tattoo process. But you now knew, the most painful part would probably be Jay's amused eyes staring at you, while your brain managed to catch up with what you just said.

"Oh- no! No I'm so sorry—i didn't mean-"

"It's fine sweetheart." Jay's soft voice stopped your panicking, he stifled a chuckle at your behaviour. Adorable, he thought.

"No I'm really sorry Jay, I shouldn't have said that." You apologised again, feeling the heat come upto your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart." Jay chuckled, leaning in towards you, "Do you really think I had no idea of your pretty little face spying on me through your window?"

He knew?

"I must admit, you look cute in that flimsy tank top, which hides nothing by the way." His deep voice rang through your eardrums, "but don't worry, I won't press charges or anything on you for spying."

Your back pressed against the leather of the leaning chair, as Jay put his tattoo machine down. Taking off his gloves, his tongue swept across his lips in a swift motion, as his hands trapped you in a cage, laying on either side of you.

"May I?" Jay asked, not even waiting for permission, he already knew the next thing to come out of your mouth was a pathetic whimper.

Without a moment's waste, his soft lips landed on yours, hands rubbing to take off your shorts.

You soon became lost in his presence, lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. his tongue pushed past, kissing you like his life depended on it.

"Fuck sweetheart." Jay said, "You taste good."

You moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling his fingers trail down and start to rub your clit. Your hand came down to grab his cock, already half hard, and you could feel him growing with each stroke you gave him.

His fingers slipped past your clit, toying with your opening and eventually plunging in as deep as he could with the angle he was at. Your head fell back, resting on the leather of the chair as your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

“fuck, you're so tight.,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, chuckling as you let out a stifled whimper, "You like that baby? You like my fingers hm?"

He began to set a fast pace, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you in place for him and the other hand next to your head. you could see the veins in his arms as it flexed beside you, no doubt he was trying to hold back.

Small whimpers came out of your mouth with each thrust, but then you heard it. Footsteps outside the room, you had forgotten you were in a public place in the heat of the moment. The footsteps died down after a few seconds.

“Just gonna have to keep those pretty sounds in. Wouldn’t want them to hear you,” You clenched down at that.

He chuckled, a devilish, almost cruel sounding chuckle like he had something in mind.

“oh you like that, huh? Like the idea of someone walking in on us fucking in here, watching us. Watching you come apart on my fingers. You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby? Dirty fucking slut.”

At that moment, he made it his mission to make you cum, hard. keeping one hand clamped around your mouth to stifle your moans, your eyes practically rolled back into your head when his fingers touched a particularly sensitive position, the new position making his fingers fuck impossibly deeper into you.

As you were nearing release Jay pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you.

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance

He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat.

His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock.

“You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds.

Jay's thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”.

“fuck…you’re so tight” he says, pulling your legs up to sit on his shoulders as he thrusts inside you at a steady motion, fucking you deliciously in missionary. His eyes stare at your tits that are bouncing with each motion he pulls you in.

“fuck baby..i’m gonna cum…gonna cum inside” he says as he gets that dumb look on his face, he squeezes your breast with white knuckles as something to hold on to while his eyes roll back in his head, a beam of his sweat falling on your chest.

your orgasm comes as his does, his dick twitching inside of your cunt making it almost impossible to keep going.

“m’gonna cum too…” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you to feel his cum covering your walls. the warm liquid coming fast inside you.

as Jay pulls out, he’s met with his mess, the pool of his cum leaking out of your cunt.

His fingers make their way down and pump inside of you, the squelching noise of your wet pussy filling the room. His fingers make their way out of your cunt and up to your mouth, pushing in his cum covered fingers inside your mouth.

“Suck sweetheart.” he demands, and so you do. You suck the mixture of cum off of his fingers while maintaining eye contact, his thumb cradling your chin for support. You could get intoxicated on those eyes for centuries.

Jay's thumb swept out of your mouth swiftly, as his lips landed on yours again, pressing you into a sweet and chaste kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled away and supported your tired structure with his strong arms. You could see the veins flex on his hands.

"So how about that ramen date tomorrow hm?" Jay asked, his dimple once again appearing on his cheek, "that is, if you can handle staring at my hands while I eat."

"A ramen date, if I can walk by tomorrow." You chuckled, "So, I guess this messy hair is because I was struggling too much out of pain while getting the tattoo? Or should I tell Heeseung something else?"

"Tell him how good of an artist I am." Jay chuckled, "And that his friend won't have to spy through bedroom windows anymore."

"Was I really that noticeable?" You rolled your eyes playfully, as Jay handed you your shorts.

"Sweetheart you have no idea."

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willixmsonswife · 10 months

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blind date/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *what happens if you are on a blind date and stood up by the person you were supposed to meet but a beautiful blonde comes to you rescue? *fluff ig? *1.3k words (1.7k with the bonus) .................................

My first blind date. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. Why did Beth even set me up? I didn't need it. I mean, yeah, I'm not dating anyone at the moment and I'm not good at flirting but did she have to make it that obvious and set me up with someone? I never met that girl and Beth didn't even want to tell me her name. How was I supposed to know who she was?

I sighed before I turned around on my bed, almost falling out of it. My hand reached for my phone, which was laying on the nightstand. In my stress, I dialed the first number that came to my mind. "Hello?" I almost threw my phone across the room. That was not my best friend. "Hello? Is someone there?" I had to answer now, right? "Hi. Eh it's y/n. We met like 2 weeks ago, on that event. I was there with Beth and Viv." I mentally facepalmed myself for calling HER out of all people. The women I've had a crush on for a year now, captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson. "Oh yeah y/n, I remember. What's up?" Was that my mind making things up or did her tone change when I said my name? It was probably nothing. "Actually I wanted to Beth. I must've dialed the wrong number sorry for disturbing you." I was about to hang up when I heard her say something. "No no, don't worry you didn't disturb me at all. I was pretty bored actually."

"Oh, okay." My response was followed by an awkward silence. "So what are you up to this evening?" Should I tell her about the blind date? Would she even be bothered to know about it? "I'm actually going on a date."

"Oh you're dating someone? I didn't know that."

"Surprised? Don't you think that people ask me out?" I chuckled as Leah searched for a plausible answer.

"Eh- I- No, I do. It's just-"

"Don't worry, it's just a stupid blind date Beth set me up for. Apparently I'm not capable of finding the 'true love' myself." That made Leah laugh and I couldn't help but join in. Her laugh was really infectious, I had to admit that. "Where does your mysterious date take you, if I'm allowed to know?"

"We're going to the new restaurant in town."

"Oh the Italian one? I only heard good things about it but you'll have to tell me if they're true once you come back."

"I will do that. Alright, I'm gonna have to hang up now. I have to get ready if I wanna be there at 9."

"Well have fun then. It was nice talking to you, maybe we could meet up in the near future?"

"Yeah I would love that. I'll let you know when I'm free. Bye Leah."

"Bye y/n."

That definitely went better than expected but now I really had to get going. I stood up and walked over to my closet. I picked a nice navy blue dress that I hadn't worn in a while and matching high heels. my makeup was done 20 minutes later and my hair only took 15. With enough time to spare, I decided to drive to the restaurant and wait for her there.

.................................

"Hi, I have a reservation at 9 under the name y/l/n."

"Ah yes. Please follow me."

I followed the nice women to our table and sat down. "Would you like to order something to drink while you wait?"

"Yes, just a water please."

And with that she left. I looked around the restaurant and tried to calm my nerves by concentrating on the decoration, the color of the walls, literally anything. I fidgeted with the rings on my fingers while I watched the door carefully as if I could miss her walking in. The waitress came back with my water but I just took one sip before placing it in front of me. The minutes passing felt like hours and I got more and more nervous. Multiple people walked in but they all sat at different tables. Every time I heard the door open, I looked up and hoped that it would be her but it never was. After a while, I looked on my phone and saw that it was already 9:45 pm. She wasn't coming. I felt the entire hope just disappearing with that realization. I got ditched by a person I didn't even know. I did my hair and makeup for nothing. I was excited and stressed for absolutely no reason. Disappointed by how the evening turned out, I leaned down to pick up my purse. That was when I heard a voice. "Sorry that I'm so late. The traffic was awful." I looked up to see the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Wait, I knew those eyes. And that blonde hair. And that voice. "Leah? What the hell are you doing here?" For a second I completely forgot my crush on her and stared at her like she was some alien from outer space. "I'm here to save your night."

"Elaborate please." I leaned back in my chair while she sat down on the one in front of me. "Well your date didn't come, did she?" I shook my head and another wave of disappointment hit me. "Definitely her loss. But anyway, I'm here now. I can't just let you sit at this table, all alone, that would be mean."

"You know when you said 'near future', I thought you meant next week or something but not tonight." She chuckled and I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I wasn't planning this either trust me. But let's see where the night brings us, shall we?"

"Alright, fine with me."

.................................

The evening was simply amazing. Leah and I talked about everything and I felt like I was on cloud nine. The food was delicious and the three hours we spent together felt like 10 minutes. She offered to pay but I didn't accept. Instead I paid for both of our meals. As we made our way out of the restaurant, our hands brushed against each other and little fireworks erupted in my whole body. We walked side by side in a comfortable silence until we reached my car. "So this is it, right?" I turned around and looked straight in Leah's eyes. Big mistake. I could feel my cheeks turning crimson red and Leah trying to hide her cheeky smile was just a confirmation that I was blushing. "I guess so." She took a deep breath. "y/n, I really really liked talking to you and all of this felt so, so-" She searched for the perfect word but I already knew it. "Natural?"

"Exactly. That's why I would love to take you out sometime in the near future. And this time I mean next week and not tomorrow night." A big smile made its way onto my face. "I would love that."

"But how about I make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?"

"You paid, so obviously I'm going to give you something back."

"Leah I really don't want your money, I-"

"Oh don't worry, I wasn't talking about money."

Before I could say something, she leaned towards me and my brain just turned off. I felt her soft lips on mine and I instantly knew that it was going to be favorite feeling of all time. I kissed her back and arms made their way around her neck. We only parted when air became a problem but my arms stayed exactly where they were. As soon as we locked eyes and I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in hers. "That was way better than any amount of money."

"I hope so cause I was planning on doing it again." We both smiled at each other and I was sure that this evening couldn't have been any better.

.................................

Bonus:

"Leah are you sure that they're gonna like me?" I anxiously looked at her and she took my hands in hers. "Princess, they're going to like you just as much as I do. I have no idea how they couldn't." She squeezed my hands reassuringly and I felt a part of the nervousness leaving my body. "Alright if you say so. Then let's go." I put a smile on my face and followed Leah into the locker room. She knocked and several women answered. "Come in!" She turned to me one last time and I just nodded, not sure if I could form actual words right now. She opened the door and we stepped inside. "Hi girls, I already told you that I wanted you to meet someone very special to me. This is y/n. My girlfriend." As soon as those words left her mouth I could feel every pair of eyes on me. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you." Beth walked to me and engulfed me into a big hug. "Finally! I thought you'd never show yourself here, god." I laughed and hugged her back. After that, I answered a lot of questions from everyone in the room. I also got into a nice conversation with Jen and Katie. We even agreed to meet each other for lunch the next week. All of the stress that I felt before this meeting was totally unnecessary. Everyone was incredibly welcoming and they were all so nice to talk to!

After an hour or so, Leah and I left. We still had to drive home, make dinner and watch the movie she promised me earlier that day. I intertwined our fingers as we walked to the car and started talking about her teammates nonstop until we got to her car. "You were so right, I shouldn't have worried about this. Your teammates are way nicer than you're always saying."

"Oh just wait until you get to know them a bit better. You're gonna be pranked by Katie, Lia is going to spam you with messages and-"

"I absolutely don't care. I love them."

"Well I only hope that you don't love them more than me." She grinned and I couldn't help but tease her a little bit. "Ah I don't know about that. Let's see, shall we?" I got a playful slap on my shoulder in response. "I'm joking babe. I'll always love you more, more than anyone actually."

"I love you too darling."

.................................

this is my first fic on tumblr so I'd be happy about some opinions :) also, i'm taking requests if you have some

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capricornlevi · 6 months

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(wc 759)

"you're gonna make me look good?"

jean's question is delivered with that annoying crooked smile, his jersey hugging tight across his chest as he stands with his hands clasped behind his back. he arches an eyebrow expectantly as you fiddle with the camera, trying to fix the settings that seem to have adjusted themselves without your knowledge.

as captain of the soccer team, he's the last player whose picture you need to capture for the college yearbook, and also as the captain, he brings with him an exceptionally smug but annoyingly charming aura that threatens to penetrate your stony resolve.

no, you force yourself to keep a straight face, it's bad enough that you got roped into this gig for free as a favour to your professor, you don't need to start stretching out these interactions any longer.

at that, you set the camera back on the tripod and lean closer, making sure the framing is right.

"okay, smile?" you say, halfway between an instruction and a question.

"i am smiling," he retorts instantly.

"smile ... i don't know, properly."

he winces with mock offence, screwing up whatever hope you had of getting the picture in one shot and finishing up for the day.

"properly?" he queries incredulously.

you sigh, closing your eyes so you don't roll them.

"professionally, then. formally. whatever what you want to do it."

"not open to me doing a silly one?"

"i'll give you one guess on that."

in the viewfinder you see jean's face twist back into that now-familiar smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, the light brown of his hair contrasting again the royal blue of the drape behind him.

(the hall of the gym isn't the best place to set up an impromptu photo studio, but you found an old team flag bundled up in a supply cupboard that made for a decent background)

"okay, okay, i'll be professional. showing my leadership qualities, and so on."

"great," you say flatly, focusing the camera.

"really demonstrating my abilities to represent the school."

"sounds good."

"recording this moment for future generations to come, a piece of living history--"

"do you ever stop talking?"

your interruption was intended to throw him off his tangent, hopefully to buy enough time for you to actually get the picture, but all it does is make him throw his head back with a laugh.

"i can if you want me to."

"if you wouldn't mind," you mumble, feeling a slight pang of guilt at how hard you came in when he's clearly just trying to lighten the mood.

still, you've been here since seven this morning -- soccer practice is early early, you've discovered -- and all you want in the world is to make your way home to collapse back into bed.

"ok, i'll shut up for a minute. if you can answer something for me first."

you take a steadying breath, temper starting to simmer. "what is it?"

"can you actually tell me if i look good?"

against all odds, he shocks you out of your sullen silence.

you pull away from focusing at the camera display to stare wordlessly at jean, the seriousness of the question still pinging around in your head.

he's flirting, obviously, but the question was delivered with sincerity.

"meaning?" you ask. no harm in clarifying, plus you're not entirely sure if he's looking for an ego boost or just asking whether his jersey is too wrinkled or his hair out of place.

"do i look good?"

you swallow thickly, avoiding the temptation to give him a once over. "you look fine."

"fine won't make the history books," he objects; again, with a hint of earnestness that you could find amusing in another setting.

"whatever. you look good, then."

"hair okay?"

"it's a mullet, so --"

he clutches his chest as if wounded, fully grinning now. "no cheap shots at the mullet while I'm in such a vulnerable position, im begging you."

again, your curiosity forces you to engage.

"vulnerable how?"

still smiling, eyes fixed on you, he answers.

"well, talking to a pretty girl, for one thing. secondly, pretty sure she's sworn off soccer players for good after this morning, so ... uphill battle, and all that. plus ive had a crush on her since she was selected as photographer for the championship final last year, so even more's at stake, y'know."

you pause. no words leave you, nothing even resembling a response. you're sure your mouth has actually dropped open.

brow arched again, jean tilts his head forward expectantly.

"aren't you gonna take the picture?"

#jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x you #may tries to write #nanowrimo23 #nanowrimo drabble 1 of many i hope teehee #i love u jean kirstein #i love u cocky college athlete jean kirstein hc

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maplleaf · 1 year

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Two tries, One success

[Gepard Landau x gn!reader]

Working as the manager of Mechanical Fever's famous bassist isn't as bad of a job as many would think. Serval originally wanted an assistant to sort out her workshop's data, but after seeing how you matched energies with her, she offered the position as Mechanical Fever's assistant not long after being hired.

It's good; your pay doubled and your boss is great as a friend and as an employer. It's been a year since working for Serval and you've never looked back in regret. You even got the chance to befriend her younger brother, Gepard.

Although recently, the two siblings have been acting strange.

At first Serval asked about your type, you answered the question by saying blonde, since at the time you find a blonde hair color attractive.

Then only a day later, Serval had to 'take leave' in the middle of the day; saying that Pela asked to meet her regarding some scheduling with rehearsals. Despite you not remembering Pela mentioning anything of the sort when seeing her yesterday...

Since she is your boss, you brushed it off. The workshop doesn't have days where an influx of clients would come in anyway. Additionally, current clients' orders are all finished and it's just a waiting game for any of them to pick their items up.

No Serval, no work, not even cleaning. The only thing moderately interesting is the plant you brought here as decoration for Serval.

In conclusion; you were bored as hell that day.

Which is why when the door opened, your body straightened up as a reflex; thinking it's one of the clients. Surprisingly, you were met with the sight of Serval's younger brother. A rush of excitement and joy hit you, almost subconsciously.

"Gepard? Serval didn't mention you coming here," you pointed out. As captain of the silvermane guards, he's usually busy with work. "Did you left something last week?"

The blonde didn't answer right away, in fact his eyes are looking at everything but you. "No, uhm, Is my sister not here?" Gepard asked, finally turning towards you.

"Nah, she said Pela wanted to talk to her urgently earlier," you answered. "I can tell her you're here though," you raised your phone as a way to tell Gepard how you could tell Serval about his visit.

"That... isn't necessary," he almost stammered, even to the point where you noticed. "Did my sister bring that in?" Gepard pointed to the plant beside you.

"I did actually. This old fella' looks like it fits in this place," your hand grabbed the small plant's pot, shaking it lightly as if it's talking. Using a voice for the plant, you began to talk for it like a puppet. "That's right, it was so cold out there."

Gepard chuckled at your antics, "you must take good care of it." He heard you hum in response, "if your sister did, she might sing it rock music for bedtime."

After you placed the pot back down, Gepard took a deep breath before spilling his true intention. "Are you perhaps busy this Saturday?" The Landau sibling had a light red dusting on his cheek, something blocked by the darker lighting of Nevermore workshop.

You raised an eyebrow at him in interest. Saturday... Mechanical Fever shouldn't be having any performances that day and the workshop is closed; leaving you with an open spot. "I'm not, why'd you ask?"

"I was wondering if we could..." Gepard's word trailed away, his blue eyes looking at yours with a strange gaze. It's beautiful, his eyes, like the carved geomarrow at the Everwinter Monument, but somehow more beautiful. It's mezmerizing, truly.

"...could teach me about plant management. I've been trying to take care of mine as a hobby, but they don't usually end well," Gepard finishes his sentence.

The room stayed quiet for a moment, though in Gepard's mind it's louder than all the concerts he's seen his sister performs. The silence ended when you chuckled, then laughed.

"Sorry sorry," you managed to muffled out. "It's just, Serval's been mentioning your 'hobby' for awhile and I didn't expect you to come to me for help," you leaned back against the chair with your arms crossed, "How about at noon here? I can ask Serval about opening the workshop for the day, sure she wouldn't mind if it's for you."

Gepard straightened his posture as a reflex, though his face does hold a certain embarassment that you didn't pick up. "Sure, I'll be glad," he smiled. "I think I'll have to go now, my break isn't long."

The blonde leaves the workshop in a hurry, not even hearing your words of parting. You found it strange how he behaved that day, and many days after to be exact.

The second time one of the Landau siblings acted weird was when Mechanical Fever's performance had just ended. Many people were asking for a photo or even signatures of the bandmates, especially Serval.

Since it all had technically wrapped up, you sat by the bench nearby to recharge from watching a fun yet exhausting performance. The air of overworld's Belobog is much colder in the evening, even with geomarrow heaters everywhere.

Your hand rubbed against eachother for heat and friction. It'll only be a short while until the band properly wraps up and have a little celebration in Serval's workshop. Though that short while felt like eternity when all you could feel is the eternal winter's air saying 'fuck you warmth!'

"You okay there?"

You looked up to see the familiar charming captain, his face full of worry. The thought of Gepard worrying made you conflicted to wether feel happy or guilty. "Yeah, just chilly," you responded, bringing your heated hands to your face for more warmth.

"You didn't bring a jacket?" Gepard asked, sitting right beside you. "It's usually not this cold at the evening, but winter has its ways."

"Well fuck whoever made this winter," whilst rubbing your hands again, you slipped out a few words of annoyance at the current state of temperature. Realizing the rudeness, you couldn't help but feel guilty, "sorry."

"It's fine but," Gepard looks at your sorry state and thought about it for a moment, leaving you to wonder what's in his pretty little head. Your thoughts stopped when he took off the white and blue scarf of his uniform and slid it around yours.

"Here."

You wanted asked what was he doing before feeling the heat. It's so... warm. Is this what he feels everytime going in the fragmentums filled with cold air? No wonder he could stand in a fight for so long, this thing is comfortable.

"You are an actual lifesaver, Landou," your almost trembling voice muttered, quickly relishing in the warmth that his scarf had given you. Gepard on the other hand felt his eyes being stuck on your figure; the snow of Belobog definitely made you look more ethereal than usual.

Gepard took a few moments before the spur of the moment outweighs his worries. "A new place opened up near Goethia hotel, I was wondering--"

"(y/n)! Hurry up, we're heading to Serval's," the pianist of Mechanical Fever yelled out, uncaring of the other people surprised at his sudden voice.

As the assistant of the band, you were already used to this by now. The blonde beside you is not used to it; and if that pianist is a fragmentum monster, he would've thrown a punch right then and there.

"Sorry, could you say that again?" you tried to ignore the pianist's wails, focusing on Gepard more considering he's not yelling at you.

"Right," Gepard coughed to ease himself back in the moment, "this wednesday, I was wondering if--"

"(y/n)!"

You winced in annoyance as that pianist's voice filled the streets of the district. Seriously, you hope Serval can knock some sense into the guy about the great knowledge that is patience. Seeing as he would probably keep yelling your name until you yield, your priorities had to change.

"Sorry, Gepard, could you continue that another time? I'm afraid a certain someone wouldn't shut their mouth if I don't come," you scoffed, side-eyeing the person in annoyance. Gepard looks at you with disappointment, a face you've never seen before.

"It's fine," the blonde answered, though when he sees you start taking off his scarf, his gloved hand prevented you from properly taking it off. "Just take it, you'll get cold on the way."

You raised an eyebrow at him unsurely, "... won't you get in trouble for giving this to a civilian?"

Gepard shook his head, instead gently tightening the scarf. "I have another at home," he brushed it off before backing away from you. "I'll... see you on another day."

The next day, you overheard a few guards talking about their Captain Landau; and how he seems to be missing a part of his uniform.

The third time is when Serval asked a specific question when you two were working. A client had given her an antique click to fix earlier on, the device taking over Serval's focus for the past two hours. You on the other hand had to sort out this month's profits and data regarding clients and business related items you two bought for the month.

"Say, what do you think of silvermane guards?" the blonde bassist asked you before extending her hand up to you expecting a tool. You naturally took the screwdriver and gave it to her, eyes still focused on the laptop.

"They're... fine," you answered. "What's with the random question?" Serval shrugged her arm, taking off her glasses as she leaned back and rested her eyes. Another fixing job for a complex antique done, it's amazing how someone could keep an object for a long time without realizing the broken gears it has.

"Everytime we go out to buy parts, you always glanced at the silvermane groups when they passed," the flinch coming from you became an answer to her assumption. Serval leaned on the table in front of her, blue eyes scanning you for any hints, "Interested in one of 'em?"

Seeing as lying would get you nowhere with the engineer, you took shaky breath, "just one."

Serval's eyes lit up like stars, "No way! Care to spill?" you averted your eyes from your boss' enthusiasm, finger tapping on the wood as a way to calm yourself. Even if she is your friend, it doesn't ease the nervousness.

"Well..." your voice trailed out.

"And what was the answer?"

Serval sighed, "said I knew the person." Her younger brother slumped down, tapping his feet for every half a second. "C'mon, we narrowed it down to a blonde and a silvermane guard I know! That's a pretty good chance," Serval tried to cheer him up, which sadly didn't do much.

"That doesn't narrow it down to one person," Gepard pointed out. At first, he noticed you sneaking glances when he was ordering guards near Belobog's alleyways. It gave him a hope that maybe this isn't unrequited; a hope that's lost the longer he thought about it.

"Maybe I should cancel it, I can't ruin our friendship because of this."

Serval smacked her brother's head lightly in a scolding manner. "Hey, I thought us Landau are hardworking and determined. You can't just give up now," she reminded him.

Even if Gepard's hesitance did stop for a moment, it didn't stop him from feeling nervous. Serval waited for her brother to speak up, her arm crossed on her chest. Gepard recalled how long he had been trying a confession, four weeks. Four grueling weeks and three tries of trying to ask you out in any way he could think of only to fail each time.

The first time he got too nervous when looking at your eyes gazing at him. The fear of rejection and making that look turn into something bad made him scared.

The second time one of Mechanical Fever's band members interrupted him. Maybe it's The Aeon of Preservation's way of telling him fate doesn't allow this to happen.

It's complicated; so many variables that caused him to worry over what ifs. For starters, his sister is your boss, then he might not even be your type personality wise. Gepard is usually a confident person, but something about you just makes him nervous all the sudden.

"What am I supposed to do?" Gepard asked, wanting some kind of advice from his carefree older sister. Serval sighed, leaning against her table to wrack an idea from her head.

"Tomorrow morning, I asked (y/n) to take care of the workshop since I have plans with some friends," she told him, "Try shooting your shot then, and don't chicken out this time."

Gepard thought about Serval's idea, ultimately considering it a good enough plan. "Sounds great. Thank you, sister," Gepard stood up properly after giving his appreciation to Serval.

A part of him feels guilty for falling with his sister's assistant. He didn't even realize he's falling for someone until he's already too late.

The blonde sighed, he can only pray to Qlipoth that you won't hate him for this.

After Gepard said his goodbyes to Serval, the cold air of Belobog hits him. Thankfully, his uniform made it so he's not feeling cold, but usually geomarrow heaters around the city would lessen the drop in temperature. He should've told his sister to fix the broken heater outside.

Unbeknownst to him, you were just done buying flowers from the shop near Nevermore workshop. Your hand clenched onto the bouquet of flowers hard as you noticed a familiar blonde in front of Serval's workshop.

The dark lighting that roams Belobog's night made it so he probably didn't realize it's you there. Even so, he did hear footsteps approaching him. "Gepard! Didn't expect to run into you," you greeted him.

"Oh, (y/n), hi. I was just visiting my sister," Gepard answered, your voice instantly making him nervous. He noticed the item you're carrying; a bouquet of sunshine flowers. From his hours of studying how to do gardening as a hobby, he also learned some of the meaning of flowers.

Sunshine is a flower that means "warmth and love of light" for the people of Belobog. He doesn't know if you knew what those flowers mean, but something inside his mind is causing him to feel scared.

Though, remembering you were still here, Gepard quickly swallowed that feeling in favor of being your friend. "Are you heading home?" Gepard asked, receiving a nod from you.

"Yeah, gotta take care of the workshop tomorrow," your hand held the bouquet slightly tighter. "Actually, do you mind walking me to my house?" your voice had a hint of hesitance to it. "I... still have your scarf from last time."

Gepard smiled at your worries. Yes, he did get questioned by his superiors about it before being given another scarf, but honestly, he didn't mind it since it results in your comfort. "You don't have to worry about that, I have another one."

"No!"

The sudden change of tone caught Gepard off guard, as you usually never raised a voice unless it's needed. Looking at your regretful expression and the hand nearing your mouth made Gepard think it wasn't fully intentional on your side either.

"Sorry, it's just," your words came into a stutter. "I want to take a walk with you tonight, is that possible?"

Gepard didn't know what to say in an instant, almost stuttering himself. Though, he does answer fast in fear you might think he feels reluctant to. "Of course," he answered, "Shall we go, then?"

"Yeah," you swallowed a lump in your throat and walked closer to the captain.

The walk is a relaxing one. Due to Jarilo-IV's eternal winter, weather at night have always been colder than at day; even with the heaters. Droplets of snow covered the both of you as the walk continued. Gepard is the first to break the silence, bringing up the flowers he noticed.

"Those are sunshine flowers, right?" he asked. "Yeah, I bought it for a friend," your voice almost seemed to hesitate on the last word. "It means love and warmth from what I remember."

Hearing you say that gives the knowledge to Gepard that you know the meaning of it, and if you're giving it to a friend then it means you feel some sort of love or warmth for the friend. That left a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks about it.

"Warmth and love of light," Gepard added, when he sees your eyes looking at him in curiosity he felt the need to explain. "I've read some additional details when learning how to do gardening."

If it weren't for the barely lit street lamps, he would've been caught with a red face. "Love, huh..." your muttering were loud enough for Gepard to hear. "Have you ever been confessed to?"

Your question made Gepard wonder what to answer. If he were to say yes, does that lower the chances of you accepting his confession. But if he were to say no, would you really believe him?

"A few times, though I never really accepted them," Gepard side-eyed you, trying to pinpoint any kind of reaction. He could see your hand holding onto the bouquet tight, even so he doesn't know if it's due to nervousness or just from the cold.

"I see," your voice trailed out. The walk continued on quietly, but it's not awkward per se.

For Gepard, his mind is clouded with doubt for tomorrow's plan. If he were to be planning a confession, he would ask for some kind of advice from someone he knows well. For him it was Serval, but maybe for you it's him.

Before either of you could realize it, you two are already in front of your home. "Looks like we're here," Gepard said unsurely. He isn't exactly sure if you would give back his scarf or not, considering he rejected the offer earlier.

"Right," you took a deep breath before turning to face the blonde, your movements as stiff as a robot. Your hand held onto the bouquet with shaking fingers, eyes unsure where to look but eventually locking to Gepard's blue ones.

After a moment of silence and you biting your lips to form words, any words, you finally spoke.

"You are a wonderful person to be around, I always enjoy talking to you even if it's just for a few minutes," your voice is low, scared even. The fear of losing someone causing hesitation between each words spoken.

"And you might feel otherwise, but fuck, I want to be selfish just this once." You took in another breath of air to prepare yourself. Your arms extended towards Gepard, offering him the bouquet of flowers. "I like you, like really like you."

Your voice trembled, but not because of the coldness in the air but the warmth that slowly crept up to your head. Heartbeat going louder than any of Serval's performances.

Gepard's own state isn't far different than yours. His mind slowly processed your words as his cheeks is engulfed in a light pink hue. For almost a month he was worried every time he thought about it; head slamming against the wall thinking on what to say and what to do for a confession.

"It seems you did what I was planning to do."

His hand took the flowers, happiness written all over his face expressed by a soft and endearing smile. "I feel the same way, for awhile now to be exact," Gepard took a deep breath before letting out small chuckles of his own.

"Sorry, its just nice to see that I'm not alone," his admittance made you laugh yourself. It's good that your house doesn't have many street lamps in front of it, or else the two of you might've been exposed for the redness in both of your faces.

It's strange. Just a moment ago the cold air of Belobog had started to settle in, but now all you could feel is the wamrth coming from your own face. Though, after properly processing Gepard's reponse you realized the opportunity laid properly at this moment.

"I have a ticket-- sorry, two tickets, to the Golden Theater next week at 12. If you're free, we could go together," your voice came back happily, glee and excitement coming from the tone.

"Like a date?"

Your eyes lit up as Gepard continued it for you, hearing it as a confirmation that he might be okay with the idea. "Yeah, like a date."

"Of course, I would love to," Gepard answers, his beautiful smile still brightly seen even with the dark lighting. Your face mirrored his, still nervous as hell, but happily nervous.

Realizing the time, you felt bad for making Gepard stand in front of your home for so long. "Great! I'll see you another day then," you argued with yourself for a few moments before going with the nervous adrenaline telling you what impulses to do.

Matching yourself to Gepard's height, you dropped a small kiss on his cheek; causing the blonde to be caught off guard as his face heats up more.

"Can't wait for next week," you muttered loud enough for him to hear before bolting to your door to avoid any chances that he'll see your state; an obvious nervous wreck. As you entered your own home, mumbles of questions leaves your mind, all relating to your actions not even a minute ago.

Meanwhile, Gepard is left still in front of your home dumbfounded and processing what had just happened. His eyes darted to the bouquet again; yellow petals looking back at him, giving him hope for what comes in the future.

#i got gepard for the guaranteed standard roll #kinda disappointed at first bc I wanted Bronya or Welt #BUT HE FUCKING CARRIED ME THROUGH THE WHOLE GAME MAN #seele + landou sibling combo op #warmed up to him after that #gepard x reader #gepard honkai starrail #honkai starrail #gepard x male reader #gepard honkai x reader #honkai starrail x male reader #honkai starrail x gn reader #gepard x gn reader #☆works

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d0llylove · 1 year

Text

♡ indifferent [1]

♡ pairing: saiki kusuo x f!reader

♡ synopsis: kusuo found himself noticing one of the most boring student in class, [name], finally realising she was the culprit behind his crisis of getting disturbed at random timings.

♡ t/w: slowburn, this will be a series, sfw, little angst? kusuo is lowkey stalking reader but its more like observing, similar to how he likes to watch satou 💀

♡link to pt2: friends? , pt3: furry feline

'what's the reasoning behind humans needing to pee more when it's cold...', it was the mysterious voice again sounding in his head, with another ridiculous topic.

'not again, it's the 10th time this week.'

the pages of the manga created a crinkling sound as kusuo gripped onto it, a vein popping out on his forehead. it was the mysterious voice again. always popping up almost everyday for the past week. the worst thing was that it would be so out of the blue, at random timings.

not only was the voice annoying, it was loud as well. kusuo wanted to use clairvoyance to find out who it was who kept interrupting his time for relaxation. however, the voice sounded rather feminine. and considering the type of things she says, kusuo was able to deduce that it was likely something called "shower thoughts" that humans regularly have.

even though he found the voice rather irritating, he still found the topics discussed amusing. although after listening for awhile, he'd put his germanium ring on.

it was against his personal pride to try to peek on a woman like that so he never tried to watch you. afraid he would end up doing something toritsuka would do, he would rather die than to be lumped in the same category as his purple headed friend acquaintant.

back to the clues kusuo was gathering, he knew she had to live near him. otherwise her voice wouldn't be so loud, and considering that it has only appeared this week, there's a high chance that she just moved in about five days ago.

'maybe it's because our bladders contract, ah yes! in the cold, it contracts so it holds less of our fluids!' it was her voice again, so enthusiastic.

'not an impossible theory, actually plausible. good job stranger.'

there was a moment of silence.

'what is the most reactive metal in the-', her voice was cut off as kusuo put on his beloved germanium ring.

'that's new, solving a chemistry question while in the shower.'

♡

the loud chattering of students surrounded him, kusuo had already gotten used to the noises in his head.

relief washed over his body when the teacher finally stepped into the classroom. it took awhile for everyone to settle down, but as soon as they did the teacher started speaking.

"today we will be discussing about the cleaning duties." she started, eyes narrowing as she glared at certain students before continuing, "I received several complains about a few of you skipping your duty, I'm sure you all know who you are."

'ah yes, the classic "if no one admits it, I'll punish everyone until someone does" how fair.'

"no, I will not be punishing all of you, instead, I'd like to pick someone to ensure that everyone does their duties." the teacher really contradicted saiki's statement, but it was hard to listen to her thoughts when everyone around him was panicking in their heads.

"I'd like to volunteer!" a fiery aura came from a certain someone. and to no one's surprise, it was hairo, everyone's favourite passionate class representative.

"no, I would prefer someone who has no other duties so that they can focus solely on this." hairo seemed quite disappointed but accepted it.

"what about [name]?" she suggested.

'who? are they even in our class?'

"miss, I don't think we have a [name] in our class," yumehara, a girl with short hazelnut hair spoke up.

kusuo could hear everyone's thoughts. it could be confirmed that majority of the class had no idea who this [name] is. or at least the loudest thoughts he could hear were people going "who the hell is that?" or, "I knew our teacher was delusional all along."

"I'm [name]," a feminine voice sounded across the classroom. everyone stopped talking, turning their heads towards the back of the classroom.

"w-what?! when were you there?!"

"I've never seen you in my life!"

"are you sure you're in the right class?"

'good grief, making a big deal out of nothing. I just think that no one knows her.'

saiki's eyes widened, he recognised... her voice, that voice. hold on, maybe he's just hearing things. he has never heard her thoughts before. she's so near him too, there's no way he would miss her thoughts. or rather, that was not the case.

'I thought I called the wrong person for a moment, i didn't even know she was in my class until i checked the name list last night...' the teacher thought to herself in embarrassment.

'you forgot your own student?'

"I was here since year 1," you grumbled, knowing that no one would remember you after this incident anyways.

'it's definitely her. how come I've never noticed her until today..'

kusuo stared at you. his eyes lightening with glee as he realized how normal you were. the type of person he always admires.

'she's so normal. she's just like satou-kun, if not better! she's so boring that she blends in so well, no one noticed but she's always been in over 10 frames.'

flashbacks played in his head as there were in fact several instances where you were seen near by the group. even back to the very beginning, in the first episode where saiki was seen explaining his powers, you were walking right behind him. another instance was when teruhashi first met and noticed saiki, you were right there! looking at displays at a nearby shop for a spilt second before the camera pans to the psychic.

heck, you were even at the same temple during new years with everyone, at one point even standing right beside saiki. it's a miracle that he had never noticed you.

♡

recess came by, everyone was excited to finally have a break from classes.

"hey pal! let's go have ra-"

"saiki! we need to find out the HQ of the dark reunion!"

"hey saiki, do you mind doing 100 sit ups with me?"

'lunch break is always annoying.'

kusuo ignored the three boys surrounding his table.

'because they always come to me.'

saiki got up, pushing his chair back and walking towards the door.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he told the 3 boys telepathically.

upon taking a seat on the toilet (yes the lid is down), saiki immediately used clairvoyance. he was excited to observe you, to learn from you.

there you were! sitting with one, no two people!

'that's good, she actually has friends. right now, her popularity is 49.'

at 49, you aren't popular enough to be noticed but not to the point where you would get bullied.

there was only talking here and there, you were mainly focused on your food, adding onto the conversation every now and then.

'no one knew who I was..' you stared at your food, poking it around with your chopsticks.

your lips were pursed into a thin line, trying to hide the fact that you were quite upset over the incident earlier.

'maybe I should dye my hair to stand out more, then people would forget me less..' you thought as you started contemplating about what colour you'd like.

'no [name], keep your hair colour,' kusuo's eyebrows furrowed. he liked how normal you were, similar to satou. however he didn't like how upset you were.

'good grief, i guess I could help you out.' kusuo let out a soft sigh before leaving the bathroom.

♡

14.00

finally, school has ended.

kusuo was back in the bathroom, observing you as you walked towards your locker.

opening it, you let out a soft audible gasp as an envelope fell out of it. you stared at the paper the laid on the floor, mind barely processing what was before you.

'did someone leave this in the wrong locker?' you thought to yourself in disbelief.

picking it up from the floor, noticing that your name was written on the bottom right corner, indicating that it was infact for you.

you tried not to overthink it, although a small part of you was hopeful that this was a genuine message for you, from someone who actually wants to befriend you perhaps?

you turned your head around, checking if there was anyone around before opening it. pulling out a piece of neatly folded paper. as you unfolded it.

'is this a joke.' you deadpanned. staring at the paper that you held in your hand.

a picture of a dog?

'damn it! I thought once in my life I got a love letter. turns out its just someone trolling me.'

you let out a sigh.

kusuo on the other hand as starting to regret not choosing something else. he knew he was horrible with words, so he thought an image of a cute dog would cheer you up. he didn't mean to add fuel to the fire.

your lips curled into smile, 'still.. it's pretty cute, maybe rika-san left this for me, she's always pretty thoughtful of people around her.' you placed the photograph back into the envelope before putting it safely into your file. you were going to protect this with your life.

#saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo x reader

965 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 4 months

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Our Little Secret (Part 19)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Following mediation with Danielle and, within a short ten-minute walk, Cillian and Siobhan arrived at a bar downtown which was well known for its delicious cocktails and extensive wine lists.

As they entered the bar, the scent of premium liquor and appetizers lingered in the air as if conjuring a promise of pleasure to come and Siobhan was quick to order two Whiskey Sours for them, which was a beverage that her brother would not usually drink.

"What is this, Siobhan? Are they out of beer?" Cillian chuckled as his sister handed him a drink, causing her to roll her eyes at him.

"You're such a lightweight, aren't you?" she giggled as he sipped his whiskey sour and grimaced slightly before responding, "Oh, please, I can hold my own. Just not...whatever this is..." Cillian chuckled and Siobhan laughed heartily, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement before she spotted a familiar face, namely her colleague Amanda.

Amanda was quick to wave at Siobhan, who immediately abandoned her conversation with her brother to greet the older woman. Amanda wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curvaceous form, her short dark hair framing her angular face like a striking portrait. She looked like a model and Cillian watched Siobhan approach her and exchange whispers with her before pulling her over towards Cillian.

"Cillian," she began. "This is my workmate and friend, Amanda O'Connor. She is from Cork too," Siobhan then explained and Cillian's interest piqued.

Amanda's gaze fell upon him, scrutinizing him with a mix of surprise and intrigue. "It is a pleasure to meet you Cillian," Amanda said, biting her lower lip.

"Likewise," Cillian replied, offering her a warm smile, which caused Amanda's pulse to skip a beat.

"So, what brings you here, Am?" Siobhan asked, her voice softening as she studied her friend. "I mean, it takes a lot to drag you away from your work."

The corners of Amanda's mouth curled upwards, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, I thought I needed a break from the case I am working on and decided to unwind a bit. I actually have taken two weeks off now," she explained while looking at Cillian directly, sending an irresistible vibe that even the dullest person could notice.

A few moments passed without any sound but the soft hum of music playing in the background creating a comfortable silence between them and then all three of them talked, about work, legal cases and politics while sharing a bottle of wine before, after a little while, Siobhan called it a night, leaving Amanda and Cillian to their own devices.

For some reason, Amanda seemed intrigued by Cillian. The way he carried himself, his self-confidence, and that unique aura about him that attracted her instantly were all factors driving her feelings wild, and she couldn't help but find herself wondering how things might turn out if she allowed herself to enjoy a little flirting with him.

"So, Cillian," Amanda started, her tone low and husky now that Siobhan had left, "Tell me, how do you spend your time outside acting? Any other hobbies or interests?"

"I like music, jogging, reading," Cillian replied casually, "meeting up with my sister and her attractive friends," he teased, his piercing blue eyes met hers, and Amanda felt an electric charge pass through her body.

"I take this as a compliment, Mr Charming," Amanda remarked jokingly, unable to mask the sudden spark of attraction that ignited beneath her skin.

"I am just being honest," Cillian responded, grinning boyishly and Amanda raised an eyebrow, amused by his boldness.

"Speaking about honesty, I live just around the corner from here," Amanda offered, taking a sip of her wine and winking suggestively. "And I am about to go home, so..." she paused before asking "would you care to join me? For company, I mean."

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Cillian replied, shrugging nonchalantly, yet inwardly he knew that something exhilarating lay ahead, especially considering the sultry tension simmering between them.

As they exited the bar, the cool breeze caressed their faces, carrying the intoxicating aroma of blooming flowers. Their eyes locked momentarily, each sensing the palpable chemistry brewing between them as they walked side by side, the moon cast its ethereal glow on their path.

Amanda led Cillian down a dimly lit alleyway lined with graffiti-laden walls. The flickering shadows danced on their faces, adding an air of mystery to their encounter.

Amanda, with her athletic build and green eyes, exuded confidence and poise, while Cillian's rugged charm and piercing blue eyes radiated an undeniable magnetism. As they continued walking along the cobblestone streets, the scent of damp earth mingling with the sweet perfume of blossoms filled the air. Amanda gently brushed aside a loose strand of dark hair, exposing her graceful neck. Her fingers grazed Cillian's arm, and a shiver coursed through his veins as he felt the heat of her touch.

"How much further?" Cillian queried, breaking the silence that followed their last exchange.

Amanda smirked. "Not far," she said.

"Good, because I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands of you," Cillian replied flirtatiously, peeking sideways at Amanda whose green eyes sparkled playfully under the shadowy street lamps.

"Oh really?" Amanda gasped, feigning shock. "That so? Well, I guess we'll see about that." Amanda chuckled, brushing past Cillian's shoulder as they reached the entrance to her apartment building.

"Ready?" Amanda asked, turning back to look at Cillian who stood only a couple steps behind her.

His presence made her feel like the ground beneath her feet was shaking, and the intensity of his gaze made her knees weak. "Sure, let's go," Cillian replied, reaching out to gently grasp Amanda's hand, intertwining their fingers together. His grip was firm yet gentle, sending a surge of electricity coursing through their bodies.

As they ascended the stairs leading to Amanda's apartment, the air thickened with anticipation and unspoken desires. The creak of footsteps echoed in the stairwell, each step closer to her destination feeling like an eternity.

Amanda hesitated for a second before opening the door to her apartment, her heart pounding against her chest. In the dim light, she gestured for Cillian to follow her inside, and he did. Once inside, she turned to face him, their gazes locking in a heated stare. The air crackled with anticipation, and the room seemed to get smaller with every passing second.

"Would you like something to drink?" Amanda asked, trying to hide the anxious tremor in her voice but he shook his head and simply closed the gap between them.

His lips pressed firmly against hers, his tongue slipping past her parted teeth with a slow, sensual kiss, their bodies melding together as one. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he ran his hands up and down her exposed thighs underneath her dress. It felt like they'd been making out forever, standing there in the middle of her living room while the wind whistled loudly outside, threatening to expose them both to the world beyond these four walls.

"You know what, Cillian?" Amanda murmured breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his.

"I want you. Right now." Cillian kissed her again, deeply and passionately, his hands roaming across her bare shoulders and back. He lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, spreading her legs with his knee. She gasped, clutching his shirt as their tongues dueled furiously.

"I need more than kisses, Cillian," Amanda whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. "I want you inside me."

He nodded, his breathing ragged as he pulled her dress over her head, tossing it aside. Her bra followed, revealing her luscious breasts.

Cillian's eyes widened, his breathing growing heavier as he stared entranced at her naked flesh. He reached out, cupping her bosom, squeezing gently as if assessing their weight. Amanda moaned softly, her nipples stiffening beneath his touch. She grabbed his belt buckle, undoing it hastily, revealing his erect cock.

"Fuck," Cillian muttered, running his fingers through her silken hair while staring intently at her tits. "I want every inch of you." Amanda arched her back, presenting herself willingly to him.

Her hands slid down his chest, tracing lines of desire as they explored his toned torso. She reveled in the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips, the rippling muscles flexing in response to her touch. The intimacy of it all overwhelmed her senses, and she eagerly awaited his next move.

"Cillian," she murmured, her voice hushed and seductive. "Fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard."

He obliged, swiftly removing his clothes until he stood fully naked before her. His erection stood proudly, evidence of his arousal for her.

Amanda reached out, wrapping her fingers around his hardness, guiding it towards her wet pussy. Cillian groaned, his hips thrusting forward, entering her with a single forceful plunge. Amanda cried out, her body arching back as she savored the exquisite sensation of his massive cock filling her tight hole.

"Harder, Cillian," she urged, clutching his backside, urging him deeper. "Fuck me harder!"

Cillian complied, his powerful strokes driving Amanda wild, her cries echoing through the apartment. Each thrust sent shockwaves coursing through her body, intensifying her pleasure. She clawed at his muscular arms, her nails digging into his flesh as she struggled to maintain her balance on the countertop.

Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, the raw power of their connection overwhelming them both. Cillian gripped her waist tightly, his movements becoming faster and more urgent. Their bodies slapped together rhythmically, their sweat mixing in a potent cocktail of lust and desire until, after almost an hour, they both reached their release together.

"Fuck," Cillian growled through gritted teeth, his entire body convulsing as he pumped his seed deep inside of Amanda.

She threw her head back, screaming with ecstasy as her orgasm consumed her whole being. Her nails dug into his back, her fingers gripping him tightly as her muscles contracted violently.

Afterwards, they collapsed onto the countertop, panting heavily, their bodies slick with sweat.

"Wow," Amanda managed to utter, her voice strained and broken. "That was amazing."

Cillian merely nodded, too exhausted to speak.

His breath came in shallow gasps, his muscles still quivering from the intense workout they'd just shared. After several minutes, they finally mustered enough strength to separate themselves, stepping away from each other and allowing their bodies to cool down.

"Thank you," Amanda whispered, her voice still hoarse from their passionate encounter. "That was incredible."

Cillian smiled tenderly, his gaze never wavering from her face. "No, thank you," he replied sincerely.

"You took me completely by surprise tonight. I wasn't expecting...this."

Amanda smiled shyly, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Neither was I," she admitted quietly. "But sometimes life throws us curveballs, you know? And we just have to swing for the fences."

Cillian laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "Indeed," he agreed before suggesting another round in her bedroom.

***

Meanwhile, you were alone at your new house for the first time, expecting Cillian to come over for a bit to help you settle in, just like had promised. You couldn't stop thinking about the mediation session earlier today and how upset Cillian must have been.

"I just wished I could be there for him," you thought to yourself, pacing restlessly around the living room. "Maybe I should call him?" you mused, glancing at your phone but, when you did, he did not answer.

Frustration gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, but you tried to push it away, focusing instead on the task at hand - settling into your new home.

You tried to call him again a little later and, again, there was no answer, which was something that worried you.

It was unlike Cillian to ignore your calls and you feared it meant something had gone wrong during mediation. So, you decided to text him. "How did it go?" you asked and, eventually, after about half an hour

of calling and texting Cillian, he finally called you back.

"Hey," he sounded tired, but he quickly changed his tone to show he was happy hearing from you. "I am sorry I didn't let you know earlier, but all went well," he confirmed, his voice still sounding exhausted as, in the background, you heard some music and a woman calling his name.

The woman did not sound like Siobhan, which instantly confused you. Yet, you knew that Cillian's personal affairs were really none of your business.

"Are you still coming over tonight? I made lasagna," you asked before telling him that the kitchen in your new house was well equipped, so you took advantage of it. "It's almost ready. Do you want to drop by?" you invited him, adding that it would be great to see him.

"Shit, I am sorry," Cillian stammered. "I wish I could, but I can't make it tonight," he apologized, his voice growing softer and more apologetic as, unbeknownst to you, he was with Amanda, the woman he had met at the bar.

"I am meeting with my agent," he lied, his voice strained and desperate. "Sorry, Y/N," he breathed heavily, his thoughts racing frantically as he searched for words to comfort you. "Perhaps I can swing by tomorrow in the morning?" he attempted to soothe you, his voice quivering slightly.

Your heart plummeted at his words, and you swallowed hard, struggling to find any words to respond. "It's fine Cillian, don't stress. I have classes in the morning," you informed him, swallowing down the disappointment that washed over you since, over the past week, you felt as though you had connected with each other again somehow.

"I will see you at the ultrasound appointment at 3 o'clock tomorrow though, right?" you added brightly, hoping your cheerful tone would convince him that everything was okay.

"Of course," Cillian replied before wishing you a good night. "I will see you tomorrow afternoon," he repeated before hanging up the phone and returning to his rendezvous with Amanda while you decided to put on the TV.

The house you were in came furnished and whilst everything was beautifully arranged and designed, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place in home like this.

You were young, now living on your own in a house not even most middle aged people could afford.

It was beautiful, with high ceilings, large windows that overlooked the city, and rooms filled with modern furniture. Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that you were alone. Your friends all still lived with their parents or at shared accommodation in town, except for Cillian of course.

Cillian was much older than you and lived just around the corner, but you knew that you could not expect his company regularly, even in spite of your little arrangement.

You could not help but feel a twinge of longing for him, but you brushed it away, determined to enjoy your newfound independence. "I have to learn to let go," you reminded yourself, watching the evening news with a glass of your favorite soda in hand while wondering how, on earth, you will cope bringing a child into this world.

To be continued...

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

Text

Life drawing

Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.

Modern AU. Sequel to The art model.

This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn.

*****

Zoro grins when, opening the house door, he finds himself face to face with a bag of delicious chocolate cookies, courtesy of your mother's bakery, that you're offering him with your arms raised, like a celebrant sacrificing to the Gods.

"You know, there's no need for you to bring something every time you come; you're already doing me a favour."

You shrug as you walk inside, letting him close the door behind you. "Even though he doesn't put on weight, eating so much can't be good for Luffy's health." you point out "And I know you like them."

"Well, they are good..."

You share a smile as you follow him towards the kitchen (like the rest of the house a spacious room, perfectly clean and tidy) where, without even bothering to ask, Zoro uses the enormous coffee machine on the counter to prepare a drink like he knows you like it.

Six months have passed since your first meeting with Zoro at the East Blue Art School, six months since you accepted his request to pose for him privately at home as well as in Shanks' class - your home, at first, since he needed to keep his interest in drawing and art, not to mention the fact he hasn't stopped attending the school years ago, a secret from his father. Unfortunately, last month your landlord has decided to host his niece in the flat's spare room, while she searches for a more stable accommodation. Even more regrettably, your new, temporary flatmate is an aspiring metal guitarist, who told you she needs to practice at least six hours a day if she wants to join one of the best bands in town, which means the place has not known a moment of silence ever since she put down her luggage, as well as her guitar, in the hallway.

Which is why in the last four weeks you have been the one going to Zoro's, instead of the other way around. It's a temporary solution, you have assured him, feeling guilty for the nuisance even though nothing of it was your fault, and hoping you will soon have the whole flat to yourself once more, even though your landlord's niece has not been as industrious in looking for a new place to stay as she has been in preparing for her musical career. You know how important his drawing classes are to Zoro, but he assured you it wouldn't be a problem: his father, a business broker who also manages a fencing school, has recently landed an important client that keeps him at work every day until late.

And so, your already familiar arrangement has changed, the location of your private modelling session shifting from your flat to Zoro's home. You don't mind - you actually like it, and not just because it allows you to get away from your flatmate's guitar for a while. You like going to Zoro's; you like Zoro himself, you have come to realize, and while you do not yet feel ready to confess your feelings, you enjoy spending time with him, and helping him to improve as an artist.

"How was your day? You had a double shift today, if I'm not mistaken." you point out as you accept the coffee Zoro is offering you, and listen as he tells you about his day at work, at the bookstore owned by his friend Kuina's father "You know, I'd be curious to see the shop one day, after you've told me so much about it..."

"You can come whenever you want; I can give you a discount, if Koushirou is not there." he offers, and winks at you; he's wearing a black shirt that makes the green of his hair stand out even more than usual, his three earrings dangling gently when he moves.

"Well, there was a book I was thinking about buying..."

Chocolate cookies, you both agree, go splendidly with coffee. You enjoy your break in silence, at ease next to each other in the kitchen lit up by the soft sunset glow; according to Luffy, Zoro doesn't make friends easily, and you are pretty proud you are now part of that narrow group - or at least, that he doesn't appear to mind you coming to his house.

"Shall we?" you propose in the end; as much as you enjoy his company, the time at your disposal is limited, since you still have work to do for your classes tomorrow "You want to continue with what we were doing last time? I was lying on one side with a book in my hands..."

"Actually..."

"Yes?"

Suddenly tense, Zoro rubs the back of his head, hesitating for a moment as if not knowing how to broach a delicate subject. "I was wondering if this time we could do something a bit different."

Your sessions with Zoro, whether at his place or yours, usually follow the same pattern. Every two times, he asks you to assume a new pose: standing, sitting (on a kitchen chair, on a stool, on the floor...) or lying on the sofa, sometimes with an object in your hands but usually in a way that allows you to read or review your notes. Once you are comfortable, Zoro makes sure the room is well-lit, places a comfortable chair in front of you, retrieves his sketchbook and pencils from the suitcase he keeps them hidden in together with his art school books to make sure his father doesn't find them, and gets to work, drawing diligently for an hour and a half.

It is, in the end, more or less what happens during your classes at the art school; after all Zoro's drawing sessions are the reason you meet, the reason why he asked you to pose for him. You expected to do the same today as well, just like the many times you have met before; you didn't expect him to propose a change... and, you will reflect later on, you have no idea what this day has in store for you.

"What d'you mean?"

Zoro has turned his back to you, focused on the cups you used for your coffee and that he is now washing in the sink "Well... I was thinking today you could pose like you do in class."

"As in...?"

"Naked, yes. Unless, that... bothers you..."

It shouldn't, of course. After all, you have been an art model for six months, and by now you like to think you are quite good at it, since Shanks no longer needs to correct your posture and you can keep the most uncomfortable pose for a long time without complaining, even though the job is more tiring than it looks and in the end your muscles beg for mercy. Besides the fact that it helps you pay rent (you expected your landlord to lower it until his niece found another place to stay, since your apartment is not fully yours anymore, but the thought must have slipped his mind) and your bills, posing is probably the best job you have ever had.

You enjoy it, a lot, in a way you can't properly explain to someone who has never been in your place, and by now you are completely accustomed to pose naked, like you have done from the very first day. Shanks was right, there is nothing sexual, or inappropriate, in being an art model, nothing you should feel guilt or embarrassment for; if the students look at your breast, it is simply to make sure they are correctly drawing it, which is not always easy, and when a couple of months ago, Nami asked you whether you had put on a little weight (you had, no doubt, because of all the treats your mother brings you back from the bakery!) she assured you she only wanted to know because the shape of your belly and thighs had changed marginally and she really wanted to portray you as faithfully as she could. In the end, for the students it wouldn't make much difference if on the stool at the center of their semicircle Shanks had placed a potted plant or a teddy-bear, instead of asking you to sit there, apart from the fact that the human form has been the most popular art subject since time immemorial, and any artist must be capable to competently reproduce it.

You expected your sessions with Zoro to go the same way, which would have been even easier for you, since you would have been in your own home. Instead, the first time he came to your place he said you could keep your clothes on, because the naked body was harder to draw and he, unfortunately, still had to learn to correctly portray clothed people. He had no preference regarding the clothes you wore, and didn't mind to choose poses that allowed you to read or revise your notes during the sessions.

And now this. You should have imagined he would ask you sooner or later, you relect; Zoro's figure drawings have improved since you started posing for him privately, and by now he must feel capable of moving to something more challenging, which means that it is time for you to take your panties off for him - so to speak.

"Of course, if that makes you... uncomfortable, or if you'd rather have someone present..."

"Of course not; it's... all right." you hurry to answer after a moment of uncertainty; after six months of private sessions you had gotten used to posing with your clothes on, but after all it is nothing you haven't done a hundred times already "I didn't bring my night-gown, though."

Zoro gives you this ("It is clean, I swear.") and invites you to leave your clothes in the bathroom near the living room, while he prepares his things.

"I will be just a minute."

"Take your time. Just..." he hesitates, once more as if unsure of what to say, which strikes you as odd - Zoro is not a blabbermouth, but in six months since you met him you never had the impression he was too shy, or afraid, to say what is on his mind. By now you are, if not exactly friends, at least good acquaintances, and you never had troubles finding something to talk about; why does he seem so awkward all of a sudden? What delicate matter is he afraid to broach...? "Listen, you know I'm Luffy friend, do you?"

Considering that your friend's crew has practically adopted you ever since you started posing for their class, so much that you are routinely invited to hang out with them and they all came to your birthday party two months ago, the question sounds unexpected, and weird, at your ears.

"Of course. Why is that relevant now?"

"Nothing. Just... I'll wait for you here, ok?"

Still a little perplexed, you move to the bathroom, where you leave your clothes in a neat pile and refresh yourself; there is nothing more unpleasant than body odour when one is posing, naked or otherwise. Zoro's night-gown is, predictably, not exactly the right fit for you, which shouldn't be a problem, since you are going to take it off in less than a minute, but wearing it feels strange all the same... intimate, in a way. You had never worn a man's clothes before, or rather, no man had ever given you his clothes to wear, and having Zoro do it, even just to avoid having you walk buck naked around his house...

You chide yourself for those naive, childish thoughts, especially towards a man on whom you can no longer deny having a crush, and whose company you genuinely enjoy; you don't want Zoro to think he made you uncomfortable. You are here to pose for him, and pose for him you will, like the professional model you are; everything else doesn't matter... even though you have to admit, you like being alone with Zoro, having his attention focused on you. A secret, innocent joy you allow yourself to indulge in.

You wash away what is left of the make-up you had applied earlier, before heading to work, remain for a moment still, staring at your reflection and reminding yourself you are an adult and ought to behave accordingly, and then leave the bathroom.

Zoro is preparing your station in the living room, with a lamp near the sofa, on which you have already posed lying many times... after taking off your shoes, and nothing else. His sketchbook and pencils are placed on a little table near his favourite chair, retrieved from their hiding spot in the suitcase; propped against the chair's armrest are Zoro's three swords. He doesn't carry them around when he is at home, but, he told you, he always keeps them close, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment, even in the safety of his own home: it is a not uncommon habit among swordsmen, that his master (and father) accustomed him to since he was a child.

He turns, startled a little, when he hears you approach, and when he sees you wearing his night-gown he seems to have troubles swallowing for a moment. "So, uhm, everything ok?"

You wonder whether he expected you to have troubles taking your clothes off. "Sure. So... how do you want me?" you ask back; then, suddenly realizing how that question, that you must have posed a hundred times before, might sound differently from how you had intended it, you hurry to rephrase: "What pose do you want me to assume?"

Zoro asks you to lie in profile, propped on one elbow, with one leg stretched and the other partially bent towards your belly; the pose is similar to one Shanks asked you to assume for a class at the Art School last month, which leads you to suspect Zoro was not satisfied of his work of that day. He looks away, seemingly embarrassed, when he sees you take off his night-gown, even though he saw you do the same at the school a hundred times already.

You don't find it weird. In fact, it might be because you're doing it in a new place for the first time, but for a moment you feel awkward as well, almost as if that gesture had a different meaning, almost as if it mattered...

The night-gown passes from your hand to his; while your gazes don't meet, your hands brush against each other.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem."

A moment later you are lying on the sofa, easily settling in the same position as a few weeks ago.

"Are you comfortable?" Zoro asks you, and you nod, by now used to the slight inconvenience of an unnatural pose, since no one, especially not at your age, has ever died from a stiff arm or a sore leg, and by now Shanks' class has drawn you in positions that wouldn't be out of place in the experts' section of a yoga manual.

"Yeah, don't worry. Can you take my book from my bag, please? I have an exam next week..."

A minute later Zoro is already sitting at his place, the sketchbook balanced on his knee, the by now familiar whisper of the pencil rubbing on the paper filling the room. As usual you remain still as a statue, face lowered on the pages of your book... even though your eyes keep rising to the young man in front of you; at times your gazes meet, and you could swear Zoro's eyes are smiling even though his expression remains serious.

You like this, you have realized for a while, this weird menage you have built together, the chaste intimacy of posing for a single artist and the innocent flattery of having his full attention focused on you - if only because Zoro wants to makes sure he draws the angle of your shoulder as faithfully as he can. You have no idea how long he will need your help for, or if he will ever decide he can do without your private sessions, but you are determined to enjoy it as long as it lasts, and to pose for him every time he asks you to, even if it means sacrificing the little free time school and work leave you; it is a very unexpected sort of relationship, perhaps an anomalous one, intimate and at the same time strictly professional, but you treasure it all the same. Zoro is not a particularly personable man, you have come to suspect, but you know he is fond of you, and appreciates you as a model and a person.

You can't help wanting more. But at the same time you are happy with what you have, and you hope it lasts.

Zoro draws in complete silence for a while, while you revise two chapters of your book, trying to make sense of your own notes.

"You are not cold?" he asks after a while, and you assure him you are all right; you have already noticed Zoro has turned the heating on, no doubt more for your benefit than his, since you are the one who can't simply put a sweater on if she gets chilly. You'll have to thank him.

"My father knows about you, you know." he adds, almost absentmindedly, and your are immediately alarmed.

"What?! He knows...?"

"Not that you pose for me, and I still attend the East Blue; he... he knows I had a girl over, that's it." Zoro explains, face momentarily hidden behind his sketchbook "Last time... I forgot to wash the coffee cups, and he noticed there was a trace of lipstick on the border of one."

"Oh, God, Zoro, I'm sorry..."

"That's ok." he assures you, while a sudden grin blossoms on his lips "He didn't mind, and I doubt he could ever imagine what we do. He just thought... you know..."

You force yourself not to smile. "... that you have a girlfriend?" you finish for him "And that you had taken advantage of his absence to invite her over?"

"Something like that, yes. I... I didn't correct him, I hope you don't mind."

You don't. "I don't." At all. Another small, innocent pleasure, part of a little fantasy you're probably too old for but that in the end doesn't hurt anyone; and truth to be told, you are happy to help Zoro, since you know how much attending the drawing school means to him. You return your attention to your book, but try as you might you really can't focus, let alone memorize the notions on the page in front of you, your eyes simply skimming the text without retaing any information.

And the fault is his. Well, it is yours, to be honest, since you are by now an expert model, not to mention a veteran student and an adult woman, and you should be able to ignore the presence of a man, no matter how handsome, and concentrate on something as important as an imminent exam. For God's sake, Zoro has never skipped a class at the art school, which means that you have taken off your clothes in front of him two times a week for six months! By now he knows your naked body so well he could draw it by heart, and he does need a model, even though his life drawings have improved, it isn't simply a ruse to... meet you in a more private setting and... and... and why are you fantasizing about that, now?!

Oh, God. You do like him, you realize suddenly, much more than you had imagined or allowed yourself to think until today. He is handsome, and athletic, and he has a beautiful smile, but in six months since you first met you have learnt to know Zoro, and to appreciate and respect him as a man and as a friend as well; you like how protective he is of his friends (and of you, given that time that a drunk man approached you as he was walking you back at the bus stop after a drawing session; Zoro drew the Wado Ichimonji and threatened to amputate any part of his body the man would touch you with) and steadfast in the pursuit of his dream, and kind-hearted towards those who suffer or endure injustice, even though those who know him less well wrongly consider him cold and selfish. You are attracted to him, and while you already enjoy being his model and friend, you do wish your relationship would develop beyond that... you wish to be important for him, to feel his gaze brush against your skin and know he is not simply wondering whether he drew your arm faithfully enough or he should start over.

"Shanks is very pleased with your progress." you mention after a while; unlike what happens during class at the art school, where silence is religiously kept from the beginning to the end of the class, Zoro told you he doesn't mind chatting a bit while he draws, and he is exactly the sort of conversationalist you prefer: no interest in small talk, and has always something interesting to say "I heard him saying that at the end of your last class."

Zoro is pleased, even smug, as he smiles and tilts his head to one side, as if to observe you from a marginally different perspective. "He did say I got better at life drawing, even though I shouldn't focus on that and neglect my other classes."

"I'm sure that won't happen."

"I hope not... and in any case, if I improved I also owe it to you. I haven't forgotten how much you're doing for me, (name)."

"I'm doing nothing, just staying still."

"You know what I mean. I know you'd have many better things to do with your time, and you're not even letting me pay you..."

"Zoro... we are friends." you point out, completely serious; you are now looking straight at him, so engrossed in your conversation to notice you have broken the first, cardinal rule for all art models: never change pose mid-session "You know I could never ask you money. I am happy to help you, since I know how much this matters to you."

Zoro looks at you; he has stopped drawing, even through you couldn't say exactly when. "We weren't friends when you accepted to pose for free."

"No, but you were Luffy's friend, which is equally important. Would you have accepted to be paid, if you were in my place?"

"Maybe I would have."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"No, I wouldn't have." he admits, and smiles at you, and you have never wanted to kiss anyone so much in your life "Anyway, I owe you, truly. Thank you."

You assure him you are happy to be his model, and you really are, so much that you hope your sessions will continue even now that his life drawings have improved; truth to be told, you'll happily spend the evenings of the rest of your life posing for Zoro... unless, of course, one of the two decides, or in your case finds the courage, to ask the other out.

"I think you changed position."

"Yeah, sorry." you admit as you lower your gaze once more.

"No, it's your arm."

"My arm?" you repeat, perplexed, since you hadn't noticed you had moved it "Are you sure?"

"Yes, you moved it when you used your hand to turn the page. Wait..."

Zoro stands, crossing the living room floor in a quick stride until he's keeling in front of the sofa; not looking at you (accurately not looking at you) he lifts your wrist with his fingers and moves your arm a few inches to the left. It's a completely innocent gesture, but you choose that very moment to unthinkingly move on the cushion, searching for a more comfortable position... and inadvertently pressing your chest against Zoro's hand.

His fingers are warm against the skin of your breast, the sensation clear, almost painfully so, despite the contact lasting less than a second. You gasp, more out of surprise than alarm, but that is nothing compared to Zoro's reaction: he jumps, retracting his hand as if he had burned himself, and his face has burst into flames as well, his usually tan complexion turning a bright red.

"Oh my God...!!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Zoro almost shouts; he moves back so quickly he almost trips on his own feet "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear..."

"It's ok; I'm sorry, it was my fault, I moved... in the least appropriate moment." you admit, feeling yourself blush as well; you have never felt so embarrassed, and so naked, in your life, not even during your first session with Shanks' class "Zoro, forgive me, I made you... uncomfortable..."

He sighs, unable to look you in the eyes, his face still bright red as he covers it with his hand, standing five paces from you. "No, the fault is mine. Shanks always says an artist should never approach a model without asking for permission, let alone touch them... especially if they are naked."

He lowers his hand, gazing at it as if he could read his future in the lines of the palm; that is the hand he touched you with.

"I shouldn't have asked you to pose nude; I'm sorry."

"I'm perfectly used to it, as you very well know." you insist, desperately trying to ease the tension.

"Yes, at the school; I thought... it would be different now that you're here..."

Silence falls on the room, and between the two of you, for the first time since you met an uncomfortable, somewhat charged silence that you don't quite know how to interpret... as if you were standing over the edge of a precipice.

"I thought... you wanted to practice drawing clothed people, because it was easier..."

"I did." Zoro admits, as he retreats to his chair; he picks up the scabbard of the Wado Ichimonji, his fingers idly fiddling with the strap "At first. To be honest, I have felt ready to shift to nude drawing for a while, but I didn't want..."

"You didn't want...?"

"Oh, hell!" Zoro exclaims, finally turning to look at you; he seems angry, even though not necessarily at you "I didn't want you to think I wanted to look at you naked! I know you trust me because I'm Luffy's friend, and that posing naked is the rule, but I was afraid you would think that I had... designs on you and would take advantage of our drawing sessions to... to..."

He stops mid-sentence, but he doesn't need to continue; he has said enough, more than enough, to make your heart skip a beat - or four.

"... listen, let's just forget it, all right? You can get dresses, I can start over..."

"And you do?"

"... sorry?"

"You have designs on me?" you quietly ask as you slowly change position once more, sit on the sofa and then stand, only partially using your arm to cover your chest "Not that you would take advantage of me, or try to hurt me in any way; I know you are not that sort of man. But... did you ever consider having me naked in your house, while we are alone, could change things between us?"

"I... I..."

"That something might... develop?"

Zoro's face is still burning; he is stuttering, something almost unimaginable for a usually collected, self-assured man, but it is sweet seeing him like this... and you would lie if you said discovering you can have this effect on him is not exciting.

"I would not blame you for it; the heart has rules of its own, like my mother always says, and it's not like I'm the woman of your best friend or your step-sister. Also, I must confess... I would be flattered. And very happy."

A few more moments of silence follow, as you let Zoro fully grasp the meaning of your words, and he seemingly gives you time to recant them or elaborate with limits and conditions - something you have no intention of doing. You have known Zoro for six months; too little to speak of love, perhaps, or to make plans for the future, but more than enough to know that you like and care for him, sincerely and well beyond his undeniable physical beauty. You want to be more than a model for him... and you want him to do more than simply look at you, studing the shape of your hipbone or the position of your elbow.

Much more.

You are so engrossed in each other neither hears the sound of the house door opening. Zoro turns towards you, delicately placing his sword back against his chair's armrest; he is in full control of himself once more, not smiling and still five paces away, but the intensity of his gaze, the barely controlled desire in his brown eyes, makes you feel as if you could already feel his hands (warm, elegant, used to both wield a sword and hold a pencil, capable of being both gentle and strong) brushing against your skin, caressing it, worshipping...

"Are you sure?" he asks in the end, taking a single step towards you "Because I'd really like to..."

"Zoro, are you home?"

The voice coming from the corridor outside the living room is masculine, refined and more mature than that of the young man in front of you; it expressed a simple question, the tone relaxed and devoid of tension, but both of you react as if a known criminal had just threatened to make the house blow up.

"My father." Zoro whispers, suddenly panicking; he looks back at the chair on which his sketchbook and pencils are still placed, close enough to the door anyone coming into the room would see them for sure. And if that someone is Zoro's father, the man who has no idea he is still attending the art school, years after demanding he withdraw, you don't even want to know what could happen... "Oh, God... cover yourself, quick!"

Zoro quickly grabs his night-gown, that he had left on the back of the sofa, and passes it to you; you take it, look at him, need just half a second to assess your priorities, and throw the night-gown on his chair, where it neatly falls covering his drawing tools.

"What...?"

A moment later the door opens. "Zoro, are you here? I just need... oh."

Until today you had only seen Zoro's father in pictures, like the one of the two of them at the fencing school hanging from the living room's wall, and you doubt Zoro had even told him about you, even just as a friend, at least until his father had noticed a trace of your lipstick on a coffee cup; therefore, this is your first meeting and God, you couldn't imagine a worst possible situation... nor, it must be acknowledged, a more memorable one.

Dracule Mihawk is a tall, very attractive man in his forties, with dark hair, a neatly trimmed bear, and beautiful bird-like eyes that earned him the sobriquet he is mostly known under. Zoro, who deeply respects him even though he still sees the older man more like a mentor and a future adversary than a father, told you he is gifted with an almost preternatural self-control, never letting himself be carried away by his emotions and very rarely reacting with joy, surprise or sadness when something unexpected happens.

You should perhaps be proud of yourself, then, since your presence in his house, and especially your state of undress, leaves the strongest swordsman in the world completely speechless.

"Zoro... what is happening?" he asks in the end, turning to look at his son "Who is this girl? Why is she... oh." he adds after a moment, averting his eyes "I see I'm interrupting."

Zoro quickly steps in front of you, who are staring at your feet as you desperately try to cover your most intimate parts with your hands. "She... she is my friend (name)."

"I see. I'll leave the you alone, I just needed to take some papers. I... apologize for disturbing you."

He nods at Zoro and then at you (who force yourself to reciprocate, fully aware that you must be red as a beetroot), turns, not noticing or perhaps not pay attention to the night-gown on the chair, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

For a whole minute both you and Zoro remain still as statues - or as models posing. "Do you think he suspected something?" you finally ask in a whisper, fearing your quick thinking was not enough to keep Mihawk in the dark. On the other hand, findinga naked girl in his home is technically not something the tutor of a young man should feel suspicious about...

"I... don't think so." Zoro answers slowly as he turns towards you; he is close enough you can feel the warmth of his body on yours, so close you could kiss him without having to move... "You... covered my drawing things instead of yourself."

"I did. Believe me, that was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but... I know how important it is for you to keep attending the art school, and that you don't want to disappoint your father, so I thought..."

Zoro grins as he takes your head in his hands; the purest affection shines in his brown eyes. He kisses you on the forehead and "I just want to make sure everything's all right." he quickly explains "He wouldn't take it out on you, he's not that sort of man, just... give me a minute, ok?"

"Of course. Can I take your night-gown if I hide...?"

"No."

You smile. "All right." you answer, and Zoro winks at you before following Mihawk out of the room. A couple of minutes, and pressing your ear against the door allows you to listen to the conversation between father and son.

"If you wanted to have the house to yourself for an evening you could have told me, Zoro. You're an adult, I would have had nothing against it."

"I know, just... I didn't really expect it to happen. And you're usually not at home at this hour."

"As I said, I had forgotten a few documents I had to look over with my new client. She's the girl you told me about, the one of the lipstick? Is she your girlfriend or...?"

A few moments pass before Zoro's answer; suddenly, you wonder whether he suspects you are listening. "Not yet; but I was planning on asking her tonight."

"Good. I don't mind if she stays the night, but if she doesn't, make sure your friend gets home safely."

Zoro promises he will. A minute later, the house door opens and closes, and soon after, Zoro returns to you, looking relieved but somewhat gloomy.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, just..." Zoro smiles as he takes you in, still completely naked, clearly appreciating the view way beyond simply as a good subject for a portrait, but a moment later he sighs "I... don't like lying to him. I know he never wanted children, but he took good care of me for years; he deserves better."

"You're old enough to decide how to live your life, Zoro. I know your father is a swordsman, and I don't doubt he only wants what's best for you, but what's so wrong with liking to draw?"

Zoro tells you that for people like him and Mihawk, the sword is much more than a hobby or an interest, no matter how passionately one practices it - it is a call, a way of life, a purpose one has to focus all their energies and willpower on, and that leaves no space for anything else. "Truth to be told, the sword is my real passion; as much as I like drawing, that's what I have decided to dedicate my life to, the thing I would choose if I had to pick one. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"My parents could draw. They were illustrators, for books and advertising and other things; they taught me, and then since I liked it, they sent me to the school. I know I'm not as good an artist as I am a swordsman, probably not good enough to earn my living with that, but I do like it, and... and drawing makes me feel close to them. You know, as if they were still with me."

Zoro looks at you, vaguely apologetic as if he felt guilty for ruining the intimate moment you were about to share with his sad musings. You don't mind; if anything, you have discovered a new part of him, the insecure, uncertain heart of a young man torn between his dreams and obligations, between the devotion to his birth parents and the loyalty to the man who has taken care of him. A part of him Zoro probably does his best to keep hidden, because he is that sort of man, but that you have discovered, and you can't help loving it.

"What are you smiling about?" Zoro wonders as he rests his hands on your naked hips, his touch relatively chaste but possessive enough to make you shiver pleasantly.

"I was just thinking how happy I am Luffy convinced me to come pose at the school." you muse "I found a new job I really enjoy, some great new friends, and..."

"... and you met me? Is this what you were going to say?"

"Hmm, perhaps..."

You laugh; Zoro laughs with you. "I'd really like to kiss you now." he murmurs in the end; in the well-lit room, you can see he has blushed, just a little "If that's all right for you, that is."

"Of course it is."

Zoro's lips are hot against yours. You waste no time before kissing him back, messy and awkward at first, but soon your mouths learn to know each other, they find a rhythm to follow and pursue together, a wild, unrestrained dance that you feel already addicted to a minute later, and soon your tongue finds Zoro's in his mouth, and his moan of pleasure reverberates through your body.

"(name)... fuck..."

His hands are still grasping at your hips, his whole body tense; he's still restraining himself, not wanting to take more than you are willing to give, but the time for qualms is over, and you want Zoro to know that while this is not how you expected your relationship to begin, you don't regret it, far from it, and you have never desired anything and anyone like him, and his hands on your skin.

"Touch me, Zoro." you whisper, your lips still pressed against his "Please, I need you to touch me..."

He moans again, fierce and avid and hungry, as he takes your face in his hands and then lets an arm snake around your waist, pressing your body flush against his; Zoro is still clothed, but you can feel the effect your nudity has had on him through the fabric of his jeans. You roll your hips against his erection, just as his free hand descends to squeeze your ass, and you both whimper.

"Let's go to my room." he proposes in a whisper, and you eagerly nod. Zoro quickly retrieves his swords, while you hold his sketchbook and pencils against your chest, then offers you his free hand, and you let him guide you towards the corridor.

"In here."

The room is large but sparsely furnished, which you expected; the bed is the sort with the mattress, covered by a duvet, directly placed on the floor. "Nice." you comment as Zoro, whose hands are shaking slightly, retrieves the suitcase, to hide his drawing tools, from the closet. He turns, and grins - no, he smiles at you.

"I changed the bedding this morning."

"Which has nothing to do with the fact you wanted to ask me to pose naked, I'm sure..."

He doesn't deny it, but he laughs - an unexpected, happy sound that fills your heart with tenderness, and the desire to hear it again. Zoro places his swords next to the bed, to be grabbed at a moment's notice; you want to ask him whether he expects an assault during the night, but a moment later Zoro has started undressing, and it would be physically impossible for you to focus on anything else.

As you expected, he has the body of an athlete, without an ounce of fat, well-muscled shoulders and arms, a flat stomach... and a large scar marring his chest, clearly old but still evident enough to make you pause.

"Oh, God... who did this to you?" you murmur, your fingers brushing against the edge of the wound as you try to imagine how painful it must have been "Was it... during a competition...?"

"Not exactly. It was my father."

"What?! Zoro, he could have killed you!" you cry, appalled; he doesn't deny it, but looks distinctly blasé about it, as he explains he had officially challenged Mihawk, foolishly thinking he had even just a single chance of winning, and his teacher had to show him how tremendously wrong he had been.

"That seems... cruel... I mean, towards any students, and especially his own son..."

Zoro shrugs, as if he really didn't care, or perhaps challenges and duels between swordsmen followed rules you cannot understand. "I'm not saying it was pleasant; but it taught me a lot, and from that day, I have promised myself I would never be defeated again."

"Well, if you're happy..."

Zoro takes your hands in his. For a moment all you can do is look at each other, and while you are the one who had never seen the other naked before, you can see awe, and desire, in the brown eyes of the man who has seen you unclothed a hundred times already. He kisses you once more before accompanying you down on the bed, and from there your hands start moving, hungrily searching, caressing, stimulating, and a sensual symphony of moans fills the air. His lips close around your nipple, and you instantly forget how to breathe; your heart is pounding, a fire burning down in your belly, and you have no words to describe how much you want him, which means that you'll have to show him...

Zoro's erection is beautiful, heavy and proudly erect, soft green hair descending from his navel in a thin strip and surrounding the base; you look at him in the eyes as you play with it, your hand moving up and down around the thick column. Zoro sighs, a lazy and happy smile on his lips, as he bucks his hips. "Oh, God, (name)..."

"You like this?"

"I love this... oh, this is even better than I had imagined..."

He has to ask you to stop after a few minutes, and takes your hand in his. "I don't have anything to put on." he confesses, which startles you a bit.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, I... never really needed them." he admits, as he rubs the back of his head, like you have already seen him do when embarrassed "I can... go buy some; there's a pharmacy across the street."

You reflect on it for a moment. "No; if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay." you answer in the end as you turn on one side, scooting even closer to him "We can... cuddle, that'd be nice as well."

Your idea is approved. In the next two hours you do much more than simply cuddle, exploring each other's body and exchanging your pleasure; you talk a lot, play, joke, and simply enjoy that intimacy and closeness you both want to experience together. Part of you is deeply disappointed you didn't get to have sex with Zoro, especially given you are almost embarrassingly wet and the touch of his hands is addictive, especially when you see his fingers disappear between your legs, but the evening is lovely all the same, your body and Zoro's locked in an embrace. You didn't revise for your imminent exam like you had planned, but given what you have spent the last two hours doing, you feel physically unable to care.

"I really like you, you know." he whispers in the end; he has found a pizza in the kitchen's freezer and now you're eating together on the bed, still naked like the day you were born, and it may be the company, but you feel as if you had never had a better meal. After all, you did tell him he could buy you a pizza as payment for your posing sessions... "Not just because I think you are beautiful."

There is a spot of tomato sauce on his lip; you smile as you clean it with your thumb. "You do?"

"Of course. And I think you're kind, and generous, and you care about your friends, and... what I'm trying to say..." he sighs, and then mumbles something unintelligible, but you don't mind, because you are confident you know already what he wants, because you heard him talk about it with his father, and you want it as well.

"I'd like that." you answer as you place the empty pizza plate on the floor next to the table and then lay next to him once more; it's not exactly the grand declaration of love you had hoped to receive sooner or later, but it is very Zoro, and because of this it is perfect "I'd like that very much."

"Are you sure?"

"Zoro, I don't know what else I could do to show you I like you as well. Now, I can't stay the night because I have class early tomorrow. What about we cuddle some more before I have to go back?"

Zoro happily takes you in his arms, smiling as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. "You know, a lot of artists are jealous of their models." he mentions, his fingers delicately playing with your hair "So I hope you won't let anyone else draw you, at least like this... and that you'll pose for me again."

"You don't have to worry." you whisper back as you turn in his arms; his hips press against yours, making you shiver pleasantly "I'll be your model, and only yours, as long as you want me to."

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Roronoa Zoro #Roronoa Zoro x reader #Mackenyu #Bellona's stuff

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rafedaddy01 · 6 months

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Summary: you have been chosen to participate in a love game reality show, will you meet your soulmate?

A/n: trying something new

Not proof read

Congratulations! You have been accepted to star in America’s newest reality show. “Soulmates” In this show you will answer questions based on what you look for in a soulmate and our love scientists will calculate a perfect match, but the catch is you won’t know if Mr. Right is actually the real deal until you exchange I do’s at the alter. Pack a bag and fly over to our studio in Los Angeles so we can get you all started!

I read the acceptance letter I got and my heart starts thudding. I signed up for this as a joke! I didn’t think I’d actually get in. I can’t do this! I can’t be on tv in front of millions of people. My parents will see this, my grandma will see this!

I guess I have no choice. I could either find love or if worst comes to shove, I’ll walk away with a million dollars.

I pack a suitcase full of clothes that will last me a month and head to the airport.

The producers of this show paid for everything. My ticket, my room, my wardrobe, ect. The only thing I had to do was show up and make a fool of myself on camera.

“Miss Meyer?” I turn my head to see a girl standing with a clipboard and headset.

I clear my throat before I speak “yes”

“Perfect! We’ve been waiting for your arrival. Right this way!” She beams a smile at me and leads me through the studio to the back room where a bunch of other girls are gathered. They all look like supermodels, I definitely don’t fit in here.

One girl with blonde hair and blue eyes smiles at me “you must be Zoey! I’m Alia. Your the last girl that we were waiting for, I heard the staff talking about it” she smiles at me as she extends her right hand.

“Uh, yes, thank you” I smile back and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Alia. This is-“

“Weird?” She asks as we both look over at the other girls chatting away with one another.

We burst into laughter after a moment of silence “I like you” she tells me.

“I like you too”

A few hours later we’re pulled into wardrobe and told we have 10 minutes to get ready for the cameras.

Each of us have our own personal stylist that chooses our clothes, hairstyle and makeup.

“Good afternoon Zoey. I am Makena, your personal stylist throughout the show.” A dark skinned lady with crazy curly hair and brown eyes smiles as I take a seat in her chair.

“Hello” I smile back.

“First things first, let’s choose you an outfit that will knock those men dead! I have the perfect thing!” She leaves for a second and when I look up in the mirror she’s walking back with the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.

“Put this on” I stand up and grab the dress from her and walk over to the changing rooms.

Once the dress is on i a stare back at myself in the mirror.

The girl I see right now is not who I was 1 year ago.

When I signed up for the show I had just been cheated on by my ex, I was in a low place and I thought signing up for this would cheer me up. I never actually thought I’d get in but now that I am I’m gonna make the best of it.

I step out and Makena’s jaw drops. “Girrrl, you look fan-fuckin-tastic! I’ve done it again” she praises herself with a quick self-five and motions me to sit back down so she can do my hair and makeup.

My hair is all done and my makeup is done, just in time too. The staff call us out one by one, there’s about 8 girls and all of them look gorgeous. My anxiety starts acting up as we get closer and closer to going on stage.

I hear the host announcing our arrival as the girls in front of me start moving and I follow.

As I step out on stage I spot the cameras and the staff behind them making sure everything is perfect. “Here are our beautiful ladies!” The host turns the attention to us as we all have an opportunity to pose for the cameras.

He goes down the line and introduces all the girls along with some of the things they look for in a partner based on the quiz the producers had us take before coming here. Once he gets to me my heart beats louder as he reads my answers.

“Zoey wants someone who is Empathetic, Honest, and Caring. Zoey had also mentioned that she got cheated on a year ago and is looking for someone to mend her broken heart. She is an gallant, creative, and compassionate soul. Let’s give it up for Zoey Meyer, anything to add Miss Meyers’s” he aims the mic at me and I swallow my never as I speak.

“I want to say that although I may seem like damaged goods I’m here looking for a fresh start just like all of these lovely ladies are, I’m excited to be a apart of this and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. Thank you for having me America!” I end my little speech with a confident smile.

The host nods his head and walks back to his original position before exposing how the game works to the camera and to us once more.

After a few minutes of explaining he announces that it’s time to meet the guys and we will get 30 minutes to speed date as many of them as we can.

We all stand in a vertical like as the men are presented before us and the timer starts.

I lock eyes with a brown haired boy whose body is ripped with muscles, not my usual type but he’s pretty handsome, he stalks his way over to me and I smile at him.

“Hello pretty girl, my names Amir. And you are?” He bows in front of me like I’m a princess and it causes me to giggle.

“Zoey” I say as my cheeks flush. I haven’t flirted in over a year and I really need to up my game.

“So, Zoey, I heard your looking for someone empathetic.?”

“Yes. I think it’s important in a relationship to understand the persons feelings even if you might not agree with them, to be able to be understanding and empathetic is very important to me” I say confidently, I need to establish my boundaries so I don’t get stuck with a abusive prick like my ex was. These guys need to know that I won’t settle.

“That’s very understandable, I agree with you 100%, you should never make someone feel bad about having their own feelings. Especially in a relationship.”

I smile at his response.

There’s a moment of silence before I ask him a question.

“So what are you looking for in a girl? Any special features she has to have?” I snort at my own comment and quickly cover my nose up in embarrassment.

Amir shoots me a cheeky smile and winks

“No special features but I do like women who are brilliant and can keep a conversation going, you don’t have to be smart but to be intellectual about things and able to hold a conversation is very attractive to me” he says as he eyes me up and down.

I nod at his answer, it’s both respectable and honest. I think I like him already.

“You look very beautiful by the way, I love that color on you, it really brings out your brown eyes.” He looks into my eyes and smiles.

I feel my cheeks grow hotter as I blush “thank you” he pushes a strand of my brown hair behind my ear and winks.

“We have a couple minutes on the clock. I hate to depart from you but I can’t hold up the line of guys wanting to talk to a gorgeous girl like you” he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek before walking away.

I stand there flustered for a moment before glancing at the clock, 20 minutes left. Focus.

I talk to a few more guys, some I can’t remember the names of and some were just so boring and trying way to hard.

I have one more guy I have to talk too and honestly I hope he makes up for the try hards that were before him.

“Hi, I’m Rafe” the handsome man smiles at me with his pearly white teeth and as I stare into his ocean blue eyes that twinkle, a bit of mischief and a bit of pain in them.

“Zoey” I say slowly as I shake his hand and feel a spark between us instantly. The room fades away as I stare back at this beautiful god of a man and watch him smile at me.

“You.. okay?” He asks as I come back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Think I’m just a little overwhelmed from today. It’s been a long day I think my brains fried” I babble on anxiously as I tend to do and I catch myself “sorry, I talk a lot when I get nervous. People tend to just ignore me, I-“

“Zoey?” Rafe interrupts me and stares at me with a huge smile.

“Hmm?” I say, my cheeks flushing. Great, I already fucked this up.

“I don’t mind the babbling, I think it’s cute. But we only have 5 minutes and I have been trying to walk up to you for the past 25 now” he says as he flashes me his pearly whites.

“Right, sorry” I say hanging my head down in Shame.

“So, question. If you don’t mind me asking. You said you’re looking for someone honest and caring, so why come to a reality show were there’s only people trying to get famous and make money” he asks as he crosses his arms over his body, there not too muscular but there’s enough. Just the right amount.

“Your right. It seems stupid to think you could find actual love on a game show, but I believe in hope, and honestly I signed up for this when I was wasted and drowning my sorrows in chocolate chip ice cream” I laugh at my own sadness.

Just as Rafe opens his mouth to say something the timer goes off.

“That’s time Ladies and Gents! Please find your way back” the host announces as we all scramble back to our original spots.

“Now tonight you will have a chance to couple up with one person that you found a liking too, but before we decide which lady will be picking her soulmate there is an catch. If the guy chosen does not like the girl that picked him and thinks there’s a chance with another one he may turn her down”

We all look at each other and I swallow my nerves, trying to calm the damn butterflies in my stomach.

“Well be back after this short break” the host announces and the camera cut out.

“You all have 5 minutes to drink water, get a snack or use the bathroom” one of the staff members says as we disperse

“Any idea on who you’ll pick?” A brunette with glasses says next to me. “Names Melina, you can call me Mel” she says smiling.

“Zoey, and no. I have no idea who I’m going to pick. There was a few interesting guys I talked too but it’s too early to tell if their just here for money or for something serious” I tell her with a sigh.

“Agreed, anyone of these guys could be a douch bag. But that won’t stop me from climbing into bed with them. Have you seen then? Girl, they are HOT”

We both laugh at her comment and the host announces our 5 minutes are up

“Good luck” Mel squeezes me hand encouragingly before going to stand on her mark.

“Were back, your watching Soulmates. The newest reality dating show and we are just about to let the ladies pick their first couple!”

I twist my hands in anticipation as the host explains how when we were doing to speed dating the audience watching was placing votes on who their favorite girl was and that girl would go first.

“In first place we have… Zoey Meyers! Congratulations Zoey. Come make your choice”

He smiles at me as I stare back in shock. He calls me over with his hand and I walk up slowly. I stare at the men before me and they all smile at me.

I lock eyes with one and I instantly know who I’m picking.

“I pick… Amir”

Everybody claps as Amir walks out of the line.

“I’m glad you picked me, I was hoping you would” he flashes me a smile before intertwining his fingers in mine and walking us back to the line up.

The rest of the girls choose their couple and Rafe ends up with Carolina, a brunette with perfect cheekbones, perfect nose and plump lips that aren’t too big but also aren’t too small. Her eyebrows are arched and frame her face beautifully. Honestly I’m jealous, I don’t know why. I could have chose him but I just felt like he would have turned me down. Plus, he and Carolina look like the dream couple paired up together.

“Now that all our ladies and gents have been coupled up its time to announce phase 2 of our game. You all will be flying to the Bahamas, were you’ll be living on a remote island for one month!” The host says.

I turn to Mel and Alia and see them with their boys and smile. They look like a perfect match. I’m glad to have made some friends here already.

I look up at Amir and he smiles down at me, “you excited to live with me for a month?” He asks.

I tighten my grip on his hand and squeeze “of course”

“Until next time on… Soulmates”

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx

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xxladyballadxx · 11 months

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An Alien Robot In Love With A Human Girl (Pt 2)

TF ROTB Mirage x Reader

Mirage couldn’t get his head straight while on patrol because he was thinking about (Y/n), the girl he met a week ago. Arcee, one of his comrades, scowled at him for spacing out on patrol. Even Optimus had a little go at Mirage too.

The upbeat Autobot wondered perpetually if he would ever see (Y/n) again.

~~~~~

(Y/n) hadn’t been very focused on her studies for Uni and that’s because someone she met not long ago was on her mind. An Autobot named Mirage. The girl appears to be fond of that funny robot, she finds him quite hilarious and optimistic. The day she got saved by one of the Autobots, (Y/n) got to know him more while Mirage was driving her home. (Y/n) drew a mini image of him on her notebook and her heart went pumping up in beats when she did that. A red faded colour glowing on her cheeks, blushing hysterically as she thinks about him more.

The sweet warm-hearted girl held up a mini sketch of Mirage towards the sunlight that was radiantly beaming through the glass window by her studying desk, wondering if she would ever bump into Mirage once again.

~~~~~

Mirage got ambushed by one of the Decepticons while getting easily distracted by a girl he couldn’t stop thinking about. (Y/n) has been crawling through his mind 24/7. The citizens were roaming down the road screaming in terror when a deception appeared. However, Mirage managed to take down the enemy and blasted their brains out.

Suddenly…

“Mirage?” The Autobot recognised the voice of a girl whom he never thought was nearby. He turned his head and looked down at the girl standing by the broken streetlights, “(Y/n)?” Mirage walked closer to her, bending down to her level so he could face her properly.

(Y/n) shone a smile across her soft lips, tucking in her (h/c) hair behind her ear, “Hello Mirage.” she had never thought she would randomly run into him. “Glad that I’ve bumped into you today.” Mirage’s eyes widened after hearing what he just said out of the blue, he held his hand and face-slapped himself, thinking that it was the most ridiculous first thing to say. (Y/n) chuckled at her awkwardness, “I was actually going to say the same thing. I watched you take down that Decepticon while I was hiding behind the wall nearby. That was impressive.”

Obviously she wasn’t stalking him or anything, (Y/n) just happened to be nearby and somehow spotted Mirage beating the hell out of a Decepticon. Mirage never thought someone beautiful like her was watching the whole fight between the Autobot and Decepticon.

“You could have gotten hurt, (Y/n)! You shouldn’t be too close!” Mirage spoke in a worrying manner.

“I wasn’t that close to the scene, I was watching from a safe distance so I’m fine! Don’t worry!” (Y/n) reassured him, smiling so calmly.

An utter silence floated in between them, the two gazed upon each other with a smile glimmering on her faces. (Y/n) looked away shyly, Mirage noticed her face was colouring fadingly with a light of red. He found that quite adorable.

“Are you free at the moment?” Mirage asked in a wonder.

“Yeah I am.” (Y/n) answered very quickly which shocked Mirage.

“Awesome! Great! Wanna go to the drive-in theater or..?” He suggested, couldn’t think of any places to go and chill. “I would love to, Mirage…” She paused and took a glimpse around the chaotic mess when Mirage brawled against the Decepticon, “Aren't you going to clean up the mess?” she giggled with her hand to her lips.

Mirage hadn’t forgotten the damage he caused on the street, “I will let the humans handle that, haha…” he transformed into the Porsche 964 car and actively opened the car door for her, “You coming in?”

(Y/n) clutched her study books to her chest and smiled shyly, heading inside the Porsche. Mirage carefully closed the car door front and drove off to the drive-in theater.

An Autobot and the little lady began to spend more time together every week, getting to know each other one and another. Mirage loves her laughs, her smile, her everything. His heart gets very high with such warm fuzzy feelings. It’s the same with (Y/n).

The girl loves everything about him. His goofiness, his silliness, his jokes, everything. A human girl and an Autobot fell for each other and eventually they officially became a couple.

(Y/n) talks about her goofball Mirage to her friends, some find it hard to believe that one of the Autobots was actually her boyfriend. She would think about Mirage everyday nonstop.

On the other side, Mirage never shuts his mouth about (Y/N) to his comrades. Bumblebee grew exhausted hearing his friend talking about (Y/n). Although he does seem interested to meet the girl one day. Arcee appeared to be a little annoyed by Mirage rambling on about his human girlfriend. She, too, was interested to meet (Y/n). Other Autobots had a similar reaction. Optimus was visibly happy for him having someone special in his life, human or not. As long as Mirage treats (Y/n) right of course.

It appeared that the human girl (Y/n) and the Autobot Mirage grew very fond of each other…

Mirage found his sparkmate whom he wants to spend the rest of his life with and (Y/n) found hers whom she truly adores very much.

(A/N) - THE END! The last part of this fanfiction is finally completed! I hope you all enjoyed it!

UNTIL NEXT TIME..^^

#transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #transformers rise of the beasts #tf rotb #tf rotb mirage #tf x reader #tf rotb mirage x reader #rotb mirage x reader #transformers headcanon #tf mirage #rise of the beasts #rotb x reader #rise of the beasts x reader #tf headcanon

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sadiestarrs · 9 months

Text

We Met In A Library

Warnings: nothing but fluff again <3 also use of y/n once

A/N: i love gwen sm it's actually worrying

Plot: You always go to your favourite spot in a library but this time someone new is sitting there

Word count: 673

You were failing a class. Science to be specific. It was all the talk about atoms and cells that threw you off. So naturally, you spent time in the library, trying to wrap your mind around all the missed papers. But nobody really spent their lunch in the library because they actually had friends and better things to do, unlike you.

You pick up a biology book, walking to the spot where you always worked. It was by a window, a nice view of the school grounds, and to your surprise, someone was sitting there which was very unusual as it was an isolated corner only anti-social people sat at.

Short blonde hair with growing brown roots. An eyebrow piercing slightly glistening when she tilted her head against the sun.

You had two options; ask to sit and continue your day or find another table and accept defeat.

“Do you wanna sit here?”

Whilst you were making a life-changing decision, she had looked up at you and figured that you either were really weird or wanted to study. You froze, her eyes staring forward at you.

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll find somewhere else.”

Tightening the grip on the books in your hands, you take two steps away before she says, “You can sit here, I see you sometimes after school. I’m Gwen.” She shifts her papers to the side, making space for you.

You’re hesitant at first but remember what she said. You did study after school a lot, and maybe you did see her once or twice, but the atoms in your head trying to understand what an atom exactly was didn’t register anyone or anything within 5 miles.

“Oh yeah, I used to come here 24/7 when I was failing all of my subjects. I’m just behind in science now,” you say, placing the biology book down and sitting.

“To your luck, I’m at the top of my class for science. I could give you some of my notes?”

“Really? That would be great. It’s taken me so long to even get an average grade.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not easy even being in school.”

You continue talking but not really grasping her words. Were her eyes blue? Grey? Whatever it was, it was very difficult to figure out not to mention the soft smile lines that appeared when you would joke around.

“Ok, there’s only a few minutes of lunch left so let’s continue this convo later?” She asks.

“Of course, I kinda forgot that I’m meant to be studying.”

You two sit in silence for a while, but even with a book in front of you, it was hard to focus. Not to mention the warm vanilla radiating off of her. Even the slight nudges against your leg every time she would reach for a pen or highlighter sent a jolt up your spine.

You sat for at least twenty minutes, willing for your brain to focus.

“Are you okay?”

You look up, not realising that you were vigorously tapping your pen on the table.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just stuck on a question.”

“I could help you after school if you want. As long as you’re not busy.”

In your head, you were saying, “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” but only managed to say, “That sounds great. Same place?”

Gwen nods, getting up and packing her books when the bell rings.

“I gotta go, see you later?” Just as you get up to say bye she looks at your cheek and says, “You’ve got ink on your face, looks good on you though,” she says jokingly, taking her sleeve and wiping.

“Good as new.”

Your cheeks start to burn up, a heat spreading over your body. She smiles at the reaction, handing you a biology book, “Bye, y/n.”

You stand still for a moment, trying to process everything that happened just in a matter of seconds. A piece of paper sticks out of the book.

Call me sometime - with her number at the bottom.

#author #gwen stacy x reader #spider gwen #into the spider verse #spider verse #spiderman atsv #spiderman #lesbian #marvel #spider woman #atsv gwen #gwen stacy #astv #spiderman into the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse

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imagininghim · 10 months

Text

A very broken Hallelujah

A/N: I've recently been listening to the song Hallelujah and I can't get this imagine out of my head, I hope you enjoy!

There is not enough Lucifer imagines and smut out there so please request away, or write some because your girl is in desperate need!

Blurb: You're on a hunt for a demon with the Winchesters, Castiel and a certain little devil at a lounge. The boys ask you to pose as a lounge singer to attract the attention of the demon but little do you know, that's not the only attention you catch.

Pairing: Lucifer x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings: not a one, just some sweet and fluffy devil loving.

"You want me to do what?" I questioned as I stared blankly at the two boys from the backseat of the impala.

"You know, just sing a song or two while Sam and I hunt for the black eyed bastard." Dean said with a smile. "It won't be that bad, I've heard you sing in the shower before. You're great!" Before I could argue Sam spoke up.

"What Dean is trying to say is, we just need you to distract the crowd while we search for him, as soon as we find him, we'll signal for you and we can leave." Sam said with hope in his voice.

"Why can't we just send Lucifer to find the demon, I'm sure he already knows where he is." I said sending a glance across the seat at the former archangel.

"We can't trust him enough to actually help, which is why Cas is going to sit in the crowd with him and keep an eye on you and him while we hunt." Sam responded simply, I let out a sigh knowing there was no way I was gonna win this argument.

"Fine, but you both owe me." I said with a huff.

"Deal."

We drove the rest of the way to the lounge in silence, every now and then I could feel a set of eyes trailing over me, I looked over at Cas who was sitting next to me, focusing on the road ahead and then at Lucifer who was simply staring out the window. I shrugged it off, thinking it was a coincidence and turned back to the window.

Once we arrived, we all shuffled out of the car. Sam and Dean, came prepared already dressed in suits while Cas and Lucifer wore their normal attire.

"(Y/N), I packed you a bag with a dress and some heels." Sam began, handing me over the duffel bag. "They have a dressing room you can get ready in, you'll be on in fifteen minutes, so you better get going." I nodded before sending a glare at Dean and making my way into the lounge.

After I got dressed and freshened up, the makeup I had already been wearing, I heard the stage manger call my name. Taking in a deep breath, I made my up the stairs and onto the stage.

As I over looked the crowd, I locked eyes with a pair of light blue ones. For a moment, it looked like they flashed red but I just shrugged it off as being nothing.

Walking to the mic, silence fell amongst the crowd as a piano began with a familiar tune. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, beginning to sing.

"Now I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor falls, the major lifts, the baffled king composing Hallelujah" I reopened my eyes to only find them staring back into Lucifer's. I continued to stare as I sung, feeling as if it was just the two of us in the room.

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you, she tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah." As the song continued, Lucifer and I never once broke eye contact, he began leaning forward and placing his elbows as I sang. Looking as if he was locked into some sort of trance.

"Maybe I have been here before, I know this room I, I've walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you, I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah." I closed my eyes as the song went on as an image appeared in my thoughts.

It was all pitch black but the faint sound of the piano played on, I looked around as I heard footsteps approaching.

"Care to dance." I turned around to see Lucifer standing in an all black suit, with his hand held out to me. I glanced his hand and then back at his eyes, which were now illuminating a bright red. I placed my hand in his and nodded. Taking ahold of me, he slid his hand around my waist and pulled me close.

"There was a time you let me know, what's real and going on below, but now you never show it to me, do you? And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving, too, and every breath we drew was Hallelujah"

We continued to dance, holding on to one another while staring deeply into each other's eyes. It wasn't until I heard what sounded like the flapping of wings, that I took notice. Outstretched behind Lucifer was his wings, they were black and battered but they were still breathtaking.

"Can I touch them?" I questioned as I stopped dancing, and continued to stare in awe of his wings.

"You can see them?" Lucifer questioned in slight shock.

"Yes and they're beautiful." I reached out my hand before glancing at him, he nodded in response and ran my fingers through the soft silkiness of his feathers, he let out a soft moan as I continued.

"You know, they say only your soulmate can see your wings. The person you're destined to be with." Lucifer said softly as I turned to look at him.

"Maybe there's a god above, and all I ever learned from love, was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you, and it's not a cry you can hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah." The song finished up, and I reopened my eyes as the crowd erupted in clapping and cheering. Breaking the eye contact from Lucifer, I noticed Sam signalling me that they had finished the hunt. I took a small bow and made my way off the stage.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in once I reached the dressing room, I glanced up in the mirror to see Lucifer standing behind me.

"You sang beautifully." He said simply. I turned around to only take in notice of his wings in person.

"Yo-your wings." I stuttered dumbfounded that I could actually see them.

"It's you, (Y/N)." He began coming towards me, cupping my cheek in his hand.

"It's always been you."

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theanonwriter · 1 year

Text

friends close, enemies closer: part 1

A/N: hey guys!! i’m starting this JJ fic bc i am currently obsessed with outerbanks and wanna live my hot girl fantasy! join me if you want ;) LOTS OF LOVE!

Summary: When your parents unexpectedly become wealthy from good investments, you're forced to leave your old life in the Cut and move to Figure Eight. Right when you finally start to move on (thanks to the help of your best friend, Sarah Cameron), your old friends are suddenly forced into your life again. Getting comfortable with them means discovering their new lives and making amends for the past. And just when things couldn't possibly get any more complicated, you have to deal with your lingering feelings with a certain hot-headed blond.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: just swearing for this one!

You hated lunch at Kildare Preparatory Academy. It wasn’t that it was bad or anything, but it was certainly not good. There was no added butter, no oil, and obviously no love. It all tasted like it would have been sold downtown, at one of the new juice bars or vegan cafes.

Sarah didn’t seem to mind, though. She was digging into her panini and pasta salad, gossiping with you as you sat at a table in the sun. You listened in silence, letting the warmth cover your bare legs. You were glad you met her. There was always a cliche in movies that the pretty, popular girl bullied the introverted new girl. But that wasn't true. Sarah accepted you into her circle. She invited you to parties, showed you the cool way to plait your hair, and made Kooks see you as one of them, rather than a Pogue whose parents hit it big.

Even though moving schools during freshman year was hard, it was moments like this that made you glad that your family made it. Kildare County High School was a mess, falsely beautified by newly lacquered gym floors and covered in finger-print-smudged windows. Kildare Prep was gorgeous, wrapped in ivy with Tiffany blue glass stained windows. You sighed contentedly and opened your eyes again to find Sarah staring at you.

“I have something to tell you.” She announced, looking like she would burst. You raise your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to spill whatever it was that had been weighing on her mind. “I started seeing someone.”

You wanted to pretend that you were shocked, but you weren't. Sarah had a bad history with men. The bad part being how fast she went through them.

“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Sarah, another one?’ I know! But I actually really like him. He’s not like anyone else I know.”

You grin at your friend, seeing the blush rise on her cheeks. You send her a knowing smile. Witnessing Sarah giddy with excitement was a special kind of happiness. “Who is it?”

Her smile faded slightly, and she took a deep breath. “Well, it’s- hm. It’s…John Routledge.” You open your mouth to burst in, but she quickly talks over you. “I know! I know you know each other, and I know you’re gonna be so pissed, but it’s different! He is so sweet, and he just understands me, like everything that's going on with Rafe and Dad." She pauses briefly and searches your eyes. "You know I’m right. You would know better than anyone.”

You knew all too well. Before your family earned big on investments your dad made, you used to live right next to John B. He, along with Pope Heyward and JJ Maybank used to be your best friends. You spent all day together, fishing and surfing, getting so sunburnt that you couldn't walk. They were always there for you, no matter what.

After you moved, it was radio silence from them. Not that you wanted it to be, but they never reached out after you left their side of the island. Ever since then, you became a stranger to them.

“Sarah.” Is all you say, mouth left hanging open. You can't help but stare at her.

“Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.” She deadpans, a slight smirk extending across her face. “Plus, tell me that you never miss them. This could be good for you!”

“And if you break up?”

“Then nothing will change! You don’t talk at all. Please, Y/N, don’t be mad at me.”

Her reaction takes you back. Being mad never even crossed your mind. Shock that she would even hang out with Pogues, yes, but never anger.

“Mad? I’m not mad. I’m…I want to be happy for you. It might just take me some time to warm up to them again.” You reply, stealing a piece of pasta salad off Sarah’s plate with your fingers. You scowl as you taste the vinegar, far too strong for your liking.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us this weekend? Just to get you comfortable with them again. I've never met his friends, and I want you there. You’ll see, he’s so mature now. Plus, he’s hot too!”

Hot? That was never the word you would associate with John B. Nerdy and kinda bashful maybe, but definitely not the "hot" boy in the group.

“Ew! If I say yes, will you stop bugging me about a boy I grew up with, who at one point was practically my brother?”

She laughs out loud, arms spread wide and face set towards the sun. “Yes! I swear, I’ll be quiet forever!”

You grin at how happy she is. She looks so free like this, smiling at the sun with her golden hair practically blinding you. “I don't want you to be quiet forever. Just for now. And maybe for the next week."

The ride back home was slow. Sometimes, you wondered what life would have been like if you stayed in the Cut. Would your car be packed full of your old friends? Dopey boys changing the station, or a certain blond trying to light up in your front seat? Would your parents even be able to afford a second car at all? You feel like a loser thinking back on stuff that you can’t change now, but you can’t help it. What Sarah said to you weighed heavy on your mind today. What happened to the friendship you had with them?

You pulled into your lengthy driveway, spotting your brother's dusty car sitting in the garage. It was the end of May, so he would be coming back to the island soon. You missed him so much, it physically hurt you.

With him home, there was only one thing left to wait for: summer.

As much as you needed your days free, along with the ability to call your friends whenever to go get ice cream, summer only led to what you dreaded: college applications.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life. How the hell would you? You were still a child, how could you figure out what you were supposed to do for the rest of your life? With your family's new wealth, your parents were very stubborn about the fact that you and your brother would go to a prestigious school where you would get a top-notch education.

However, that was not something you were interested in. Your brother went to school in Indiana, at Notre Dame University. They expected you to follow him.

You wanted to stay local. Not commuter close, per se, but close enough that you could drive him if you needed more contacts or a new prescription. You couldn't stand to be far from the water, the only place that brought you stability and comfort.

But your parents insisted that you would leave and see what else there was. So you would.

You parked your car and jogged up the stairs, kicking your shoes off and hanging up your backpack before heading to the outdoor shower to change into your wetsuit. In the warmer months, you taught younger kids how to surf in the afternoon. You loved the challenge of trying to get kiddos to not be spooked by the waves and going under.

The beach had been the first place you and the Pogues had for yourself. Your parents were never there and there were no concerns about not having enough money to fill the boat with gas. Your surfboard was second-hand and coated in wax, but it was yours and that was enough.

You used to all have matching anklets, constructed from pieces of sea junk and old rope found in John B’s surf shack. You lost yours swimming with Sarah the year before, but you wish you still had it. It was one of the only reminders you had of them.

You changed quickly and headed to the beach. Lessons were exhausting, but the little girl that you taught today made you smile. She was six years old, and her name was Penny. She had long, blonde hair and shiny blue eyes, just like she was meant for the coast. She looked so similar to JJ, who was your absolute rock during your girlhood.

He was always at the beach at the same time you were. You never talked to him and he never even looked at you. He made you feel like there was never anything even there between you two, which hurt you more than you cared to acknowledge. Yes, you two had grown apart. But to act like a stranger? There was a point in your life where you would call JJ your brother, your best friend. Now you were nobody.

He was with John B and Pope, laughing and chilling on their boards in the water. Every now and then, you could see Pope splash at his friends, rolling his eyes when they said something idiotic. When a wave came by, they rode it together. You constantly saw them chuckling when they wiped out and help each other cough salt water out of their lungs.

When John B caught your eye, he smiled a bit and waved. He always either nodded or half-smiled, but a wave was foreign to you. You grinned back shyly, unsure of how to respond. When the other two boys looked over at you, you suddenly felt like a target.

JJ did not seem as forgiving as John B. His eyes narrowed at you, scoffing a bit and mumbling something before he turned back to the group.

Pope smirked at his comment, but John B did not seem impressed. You watched him yell at his best friend, and though you couldn't hear what he said over the waves, you could guess it wasn't nice.

The fact that you knew they were not only making fun of you but arguing because of you, made you uneasy. The last thing you wanted was to create a rift in the friend group, as you knew how much they all depended on each other. You glanced around for Kie, but you couldn't find her.

You guys had kept in touch when you both moved, but you never were the best of friends. You spoke at parties and occasionally you saw her strolling the boardwalk, but you never hung out. If you were honest, you were a bit jealous of her. Why wouldn't you be? She still had them.

Growing up together as the only girls in a group of boys, you constantly were pitted against each other. Always being compared over everything, especially your looks, became tiring for both you. It wasn't either of your faults, but it created a barrier between the two of you.

Soon enough, the class was over, and you could flee the beach. You practically ran home, desperate for a shower and dying to call Sarah and tell her what happened.

The phone rang twice before she picked up the call.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

You switched your board from under your left arm to your right, and readjusted your phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to tell you what just happened because I’m like, kinda geeked.”

You described the situation to her, breaking in the middle to let Sarah ask her most pressing question: Which board shorts was John B wearing? The blue ones with the suns or the stripes?

“Well, I’m glad he stuck up for you. I’m confused though. I've heard that JJ was nice. Maybe he was having a bad day? Or maybe he wasn't even talking about you.”

You puff out your cheeks and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know man, he seemed pretty pissed at me.”

“Well, there's nothing you can do about it now. Hey, are you coming to the club tonight? There's that barbeque for Memorial Day that my parents are making me go to.” Sarah asked, shutting the door to her closet and walking down the hallway. You heard Ward in the background questioning her, but she muted and gave you the "one-sec" motion before she answered him.

You texted her that you were gonna hang up, but that your parents were also forcing you to go so you could suffer together. You made a fart noise into the speaker before you pressed the little red button, and laughed to yourself at the thought of Sarah hearing that as she squabbled with her dad.

By the time you made it to the club, Sarah had already finished her food. She rolled her eyes as she saw you speedwalk to the table with your plate in hand. She took a long sip of her lemonade as she examined you up and down. “Well, at least you look good.”

“Shut up. I had work,” you reply, sliding into the chair next to hers and placing a napkin on your lap. “Plus, most of the food was gone. There was like, nothing left.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have been late then! I don’t know, just a thought.” Sarah mocked, laughing at your side-eye. “Hey, real talk though. I need some advice.”

“What?” You ask, covering your mouth with your hand as you chowed down on your pulled pork sandwich.

“Well, John B said that when we all hang out Kie is gonna come. And it’s not that I don’t wanna see her, it's just that- well, I guess I don't wanna see her.”

“Why?”

You knew why. Everyone knew why. You really hoped their beef wouldn't make the reunion any more awkward than it already would be.

“It ended so badly between us. She literally left school because of me. I was such a bitch.” Sarah sighed, pushing some of her golden hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You laughed, raising your eyebrows at her. “Sarah, be real. Do you think he would invite her if she was gonna make it a big deal?”

She cocked her head to the side, eyes searching for something on the pristine golf course before shaking her head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Exactly. You worry too much. If I can do it, you can too. My situation is worse, I’d say.”

Sarah giggled and drained the rest of her drink. “Yeah, probably. Hey, are you seriously okay about hanging with them? I know it might be a little awkward.”

Honestly, you didn't want to go back to them. It would be painful, to hear their inside jokes that you no longer had any idea about and re-acquainting yourself with the life that could have been yours. As much as you loved the life your parents has built for you, there were times that you missed the easygoing nature of the Cut and evenings at the Chateau with Big John.

“It’ll be more than a little awkward at first. I mean, JJ can’t even look at me and Pope can’t help but to laugh at JJ’s snide comments. But I’ll do it for you.”

“What do you remember about them? JJ and Pope?” Sarah asks, pulling her cardigan tighter around her tan shoulders as the wind started to wind up.

“Well, Pope is a genius. Always has been. Kind of a suck-up, but that’s just him. He’ll always help out if he can, and he’s super genuine. I honestly don’t think there's a bad bone in his body.” You stop and take a deep breath. You didn’t really like to allow yourself to think of them too often. “And JJ, he’s-”

“You used to like him, didn’t you? I feel like I remember you saying that.”

You instantly blushed at Sarah's words. You had drunkenly told her that one night during one of your “ladies' nights”. In other words, you each stole a bottle of wine from your parents and got wine drunk.

“Well, yeah kinda. I guess. It was strange. He was my best friend. He was always there for me, especially when my dad was going through it. We were similar in a lot of ways. He was proud and courageous. He taught me how to surf on a board he stole from a random tourist. He said the most out-of-pocket shit, but somehow when he says it, it’s just funny. He’s so fucking funny.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. When Sarah notices, she grabs your hand.

“Sorry if that was too much, we can stop. I know it’s hard for you.”

You watch the sun disappear under the water, the sky filling with oranges and light pinks while the steady May breeze brushes over your skin. You felt Sarah's head lean on your shoulder, and you placed yours on top of her own.

“You are the best person I could have ever hoped would come into my life. I love you.” Sarah sighed, feeling the smile grow on her face from where she was propped on your shoulder.

“Love you more.” You replied back, watching your father play golf with other men of the club as you soaked up the lays rays of the holiday sun.

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p1-f1 · 6 months

Text

Ghosts in the Graveyard *

𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: Ghost!Stenny x Reader.

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂: None. Fem implied.

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: MDNI. Mentions of death/torture.

𝚆𝙲: 1.6K

𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂: This is my first Halloween special, + first time writing something slightly spicy!! Also I haven’t written in a while, and I know it’s past Halloween. Enjoy!!

The dark graveyard rings with silence, but it speaks for thousands. Old creaky trees, dark clouds, and a bright moon that shone down to lead your way. It was as if it it was leading you, wanting to help you to find the graves you were looking for.

You came for two people in specific.

Kenny Mcormick and Stan Marsh.

Three or four years ago, the two boys went missing after reportedly running away. Some say they were massacred by wolves. Others say they were kidnapped and tortured. One things for sure, no matter how many bodies the cops claim to be theirs, they never are.

Everyone knows this. Kenny didn’t have brown hair. Even if his parents don’t remember. He was forgettable and vague but not to the point you forget something so obvious. Stan didn’t wear his school ID everywhere he went. In fact, he burned the thing the moment the school gave it to him in drunken recklessness. The ID they found was burnt, sure, but when Stan was done with his, it was a few pieces of ash.

Stan Marsh was an interesting boy, one only a few people could find the words to explain. He was a mysterious boy. One moment he’d be fine the next he’d listening to The Cure and crying about his girlfriend to his now late friend, Kyle

When he wasn’t crying or getting drunk, he was getting into whatever trouble he could find with his friends. Many a time people saw his mother getting him from the police station. Though, weeks before his disappearance, he hadn’t caused trouble at all. Actually, people saw a spike in his grades and his amount of smiling.

Thing was, he got quiet. Horribly quiet. Poor kid wouldn’t even talk to his own mother in full sentences. Only person who talked to?

Kenny McCormick. Dirty minded, dumb, weed addicted. When he was alive he would fight anyone who called him out on his everlasting addiction but it was there and it was obvious. He couldn’t go a day without getting high and his non addiction gave withdrawal symptoms when he didn’t have weed in his system for more than a day or two. It was sad, really.

Other than getting high and fucking the entire cheerleading team, Kenny really was a caring person who would do anything for his friends. He had a sister, who, is in middle school now, but still mourns his death. His parents are dead, and his older brother is either on the streets or in his grave. Nobody remembers the Mccormicks. Other than Karen’s girlfriend or just friend who hasn’t come to the realization that she might be gay, nobody else visits their graves but Karen.

They say that if you visit the graveyard with Kenny’s old parka or a small bag of weed you’d be spared, but nobody has ever found his raggedy orange jacket so they didn’t know if that was true. Same with Stan. Show up with his old blue beanie or booze, he’d let you go without a thought. Just dump it into the lake and minutes later his spirit wasn’t floating straight.

That’s where you come in. You had known the two when you first came to South Park, getting close to the two specifically.

Sure Kyle was a sweet guy and you’d been with him for a little bit, but he was a hopeless romantic, and you lost interest only a few months later. Kenny and Stan made you feel some type of way. Kenny’s teasing, Stan’s edge and level of patheticness just…made you shiver. In the good way, of course.

You’d had a crush on them for a good while, and not just one, but both at the same time. Dreaming of them holding you and kissing you and— anyway, they were gone. And you still weren’t totally believing that. They’d show up for you, surely. Both boys loved being around you!

But here you were. Only person with the blue beanie, and only person with the orange parka. Ready to meet your lost loves. (That— weren’t really your loves— but, you’ll meet them anyway.)

You step up to the grave and watch as the bugs scurry off. Something was already here with you. The first one up was Kenny. Setting the parka down neatly folded. the thought that you didn’t exactly know what to do popped in like that and out just as fast. As long as you could see your boys, nothing else mattered.

The wind sent a shiver down your spine, and you took it as a sign to start your little séance.

“Kenny…I heard you show up for everyone else. You— scare them away— or whatever, but, I don’t want that. I want to see you. To talk to you, maybe? I don’t know.”

The doubt had already filled your head. Did he even ever like you? Did Stan? Were you even a small thought as they were dying? What if you couldn’t even convince him to show up? Too many possibilities, too short of a Halloween.

“I miss you, yknow. Quite a bit. Everyday I miss walking past your house after school and seeing you work in the yard or playing with Karen because you couldn’t be inside. I miss seeing you behind the school getting wasted or high or with a girl for gods sake. I just—“

And right as you were about to start talking, piercing cold hands slid from your waist down to your hips, then the feeling was gone.

If it’s not Kenny, another really horny ghost was around.

“Was— Was that you? Are you here? Kenny? Whatever— just…I’m sorry I couldn’t help. Or be there. Or even die with you. It should’ve been me. If I hadn’t hung up on Stan— or if I had walked home with you— none of this would have happen—“

“There’s no point in saying “had”, doll.”

That stupid sly voice spoke, from up in a tree.

“You’ve had my attention since you stepped foot in this damn graveyard. Always will. The hottest piece of ass!”

He laughed, the ghostly figure floating down from a tree. It was indeed Kenny. (Not that you ever had any doubt.) Except, he was a pale blue and slightly transparent, with a slight aura of orange. His left eye was missing, gone along with his left forearm and two fingers on his right hand. His white “wife-beater” was torn on the bottom and some on the top. With small streaks of blood and maybe some dirt here and there, too.

His sweet old eyes were still soft but had no pupils, so most of telling how he was feeling came from his tone. Cute, bruised, marks, scars, anything lined his cheeks faintly. Those small little chin dimples still rested, though, under the sly smirk. He was already checking you out, and you just found out he was here.

“Kenny!”

You squeal, running to him. He turned opaque, arms wrapping around you with excitement and joy. Those arms… they always had your attention. Lanky but not totally skinny, toned but not completely buff, a good amount of muscle and a good amount of bone. Anyone would just call him skin and bone but they don’t know him like you do.

“Hey sugar!”

Kenny said with a light chuckle, holding you close. He loved your body, being much bigger than you. So small…easy to hold…easy to love…

“Yknow, is it just me, or have you gotten even more beautiful after my death? Oh honey that ass…”

He gave it a playful slap, causing your face to flush even more.

“My beauty…” Long slender fingers met the start of your thighs, lifting you up with ease so he could hold you. He made little suggestive motions, but never made a move.

“You’d like to be in this position with me more, hm? I know you would. How dirty!”

“Oh go easy on ‘em, Kenny. They’ve only seen you for the first time in what- four years? I don’t care enough to remember..”

A deeper voice rang, and something in your mind registered as your back was met with a chest. Kenny flips you around, turning you into the same position with Stan.

“Stan…”

“Y/N.”

Dark blue and piercing eyes started into yours, almost like he could see your very soul floating about. His dirty bleached hair rest in his shoulders. The black roots has spread like fungi out from under his hat, which he put on your head. The scars along his face from certain…childhood…events were more slight in death, but still hot as fuck.

Stan had more meat on his bones, surprisingly, and was a bit more buff than Kenny, but still not a body builder. You could feel the rough and calloused hands on your cold thighs, squeezing ever so slightly.

He leans his head forward, raising and eyebrow.

“I’d say take a picture…but, well, you know, don’t you sweetheart?”

His voice lowers, face getting even closer. You could feel Kenny’s own lips already latched to your neck. His hands moved your hair away from it so he could have more access and sucked. What happened to them when they died? Maybe they’re just taking advantage of the fact someone came to visit them that they knew, or…they really liked you.

“You smell nice…did you get all dolled up for us? Wanted to see us so bad? Impress us? Just like you did with those skimpy little outfits in school? How pathetic…come on, hon…”

Stan degrades, laughing as his teeth met your bottom lip. He bit, pulling it away and letting it make a small snapping noise when it retracted

“Did you miss me? I sure missed you.”

Usually Stan was more on the quiet side. In the few times you’d kissed either of them when they were living, Stan hardly said a word. But now? Very talkative. Kenny, on the other hand, always loved talking. He was loud, very spontaneous. But fun nonetheless..

“So sweet…all for us. Isn’t that right, Kenny?”

“All for us!”

“And oh are we gonna have fun with you…”

“So much fun…”

[ BATTERY - LOW. ▯▯▯> ]

#kenny mccormick x yn #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x yn #stan marsh x reader #south park x reader #South Park fan fiction #pifi writes

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ghastlybats · 4 months

Text

Anatomy of a Ghost

Steddie, Steve Harrington POV, angst, not actually that steddie-focused but its there

(this is sort of angst with ambiguous ending, I just have a lot of thoughts about the way people treat Steve in regards to Barb's death, and the possibilities of Steves own misconceptions about it and his lack of support system. Honestly I could write an essay about this.)

wc: 1,859

cw/warnings: themes of survivor's guilt, some of this could be dissociation idk

summary: there's a dead girl standing at the edge of Steve's pool, and he's convinced that his house is being sucked into the water. he hasn't slept in a while.

There’s a dead girl outside, and the house is being sucked into the pool.

Every night, Steve sat on the floor in front of the sliding glass doors and stared at it, watched the pool get closer and bigger. He didn’t need his bat, Barb never moved. She always stood in the exact same spot, right there in front of him on the other side of the eerie blue water. Her clothes were always dripping. He would watch the puddle below her grow with each droplet.

When it all started, he might have shrugged it off. Steve used to think he was a reasonable, logical person. Maybe not smart, but he was pretty sure, once, that his house could not possibly be sucked into his pool. The pool was too small to hold the whole house.

Actually, though, there wasn’t much in a house. Mostly drywall and spongy insulation. Some wood, some granite countertops. Metal, glass. Shag carpet and kitchen tile. Maybe his whole house could fit into the pool after all, once it had collapsed and broken. And as he watched the pool, night after night, the truth became undeniable; like a black hole, the pool was pulling him into it.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew that the moment he stepped out into the yard, he would be dragged under the water. So instead, he kept the doors closed and locked and he sat on the Persian rug, picking at the fibers and staring out at the pool, knowing that there would come a day that it devoured him.

Barb knew it too. She stood at the edge of the water and looked down at him. Even when he tried to talk to her, he could find no words, and so he never did. It seemed like she was alright with that arrangement, because she never tried to speak either. She wasn’t the one making his house collapse into the pool. She was just a bystander, the same as Steve. Sometimes, he thought she might be looking at him in pity.

That night, it was storming. The pool was closer than ever before. It was two forty-seven in the morning, but Steve didn’t know that. Upstairs, his walkie-talkie has been going off constantly for the past three hours, but he didn’t know that either. The rain and the crash of thunder masked the sounds of the house. He couldn’t hear each droplet of water that rolled off of Barb’s hands like he usually could. He didn’t hear the knocking on his door, or the shouts of his name. He did not hear the turning of the lock.

That night, the edge of the pool was mere inches away from the doors. Steve was wondering what it would feel like to drown. He had actually considered asking Barb about it. He hadn’t bothered, though, had figured she wouldn’t hear him over the sounds of the rain.

There was a flash of lightning. Silence for several seconds before the roll of thunder.

“Steve?” Said a voice from behind him.

Steve flinched violently. For the first time in maybe weeks, in the dead of night, he pulled his eyes away from the pool to look at Eddie.

“What are you doing, man? Are you okay?” Eddie stood in the doorway to the living room, hair damp and face pale in the lightning that flashed again from outside. That split second of light was enough to see the concern on his face.

“I’m keeping an eye on things,” Steve told him. Thunder. Eddie stepped farther into the room, until he stood just at the edge of that glowing rectangle of light seeping in through the windows.

“Don’t want to disturb her, so I leave my walkie upstairs.” Steve turned his gaze back to the edge of the pool. Eddie followed suit.

“Disturb who, Steve?” He asked.

“Barb. You’ll see her when the lightning strikes again, she’s kind of hard to make out in the dark,” Steve explained, matter-of-factly.

The lightning came again.

“Steve, I… I don't see her. I don't think…” Eddie said quietly. The thunder rumbled.

“Just wait. Maybe you missed her.”

Eddie didn’t speak. Steve didn’t look at him. The pool was still only inches away.

“Have you been doing this every night?”

Steve began picking at the rug again. “The house is getting sucked into the pool,” he explained.

Eddie said nothing.

“It’s not her fault, she’s not the one doing it. The pool gets closer every night. Its only a few inches away now.”

“Steve, it's… it's the same as it always was.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “No. It’s— I can see it getting closer,” he insisted.

“Sweetheart, when was the last time you slept?”

Steve didn’t have an answer for that. Days kind of started blurring together, he hadn’t kept count of nights.

“If the house is collapsing into the pool, then we need to get you out, okay? Let’s get you some clothes and a toothbrush and you can come stay with me for a while, the van’s outside and it should even still be warm,” Eddie murmured, and put a gentle hand right between Steve’s shoulder blades.

“I can’t leave her this time,” Steve said.

“Do you think she wants you to die?”

Steve stared out at the girl across the pool.

“I don’t know. I think that if I was her, I would.”

Lightning.

“Why?”

Thunder, loud enough now to shake the fine China in the cupboard to their left.

“Because it's my fault she died. It’s my pool she died in.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment.

“I don’t think it was, for what its worth. You couldn’t have known, Steve. Nancy brought her to your house, Nancy was the one to pick you over her. You had no connection to Barb, right? That’s what you told me,” Eddie said. He paused to gauge Steve’s reaction.

“It was my pool,” Steve said again.

“Jonathan was the last person to see her alive. Why shouldn’t he shoulder this guilt?”

Steve had nothing to say about that.

“I’m not blaming someone else in your place. All I’m saying, Steve, is that this burden never should have been yours. And you know very well how I feel about Nancy putting it onto you.” Eddie sighed, and stood. “I’m going to pack you a bag, alright? You’re going to sleep at my place tonight, and when you wake up, we’re going to figure out what to do next.”

Steve didn’t respond, again. He heard Eddie walk away, his Reeboks squeaking against the hardwood floors of the entryway, then the quiet thumping of footsteps as he climbed the stairs and headed into Steve’s room.

For the first time, Steve was having trouble making out the shape of Barb in the darkness. He stood and, holding on tightly to the doorframe, unlocked the glass door and pushed it open.

He wasn’t dragged immediately into the pool. He was careful, very careful, as he walked around the odd shape of it, to not slip on the narrow ledge. Only a few inches between the house and the pool. It felt like miles on the other side.

Now, he stood opposite to the house, between the pool and the woods, rain soaking his clothes and chilling his skin. It was darker there, he felt. He reached out into the darkness, and found nothing but rain.

Panicked, he stumbled forward and again, found nothing. He stood exactly where Barb would have been standing, should have been standing, and looked back to the house, and the open glass door, and the single lit window just above it where he saw Eddie rushing back and forth in his room. His hair was plastered to his forehead now, his hands hung limply at his sides and he felt the droplets running down his arms, drip-drip-dripping off his hands. The sound of it overpowered the rain and thunder. He hadn’t even noticed the lightning strike.

He felt stuck to that spot, staring in through the door at the spot he had occupied on the floor, god knows how many nights he spent there. He wondered if maybe, one of those nights, he should have offered to let Barb come inside.

Eddie was at his side again, Steve vaguely registered seeing him come back downstairs, watching the fear overtaking his face when he saw the open door, and then the way he hid it when his eyes fell on Steve outside. He was steering Steve back towards the house, and they weren’t being careful on the narrow ledge between the house and the pool that time but they made it inside nonetheless. There was a large duffel bag on the ground, stuffed full. Eddie closed and locked the sliding door again. The drip-drip-drip became muffled by the carpet, but he could still hear it.

There was a towel wrapped around him, gentle hands drying his hair and soaking as much water as possible out of his t-shirt, his pants, brushing the rivulets off his hands and feet. His skin stung with the removal of the constant chill, but he was handed clean, dry clothes right out of the duffle bag, and when he didn’t move to change, Eddie took care in removing his shirt and drying him off again, replacing it with the new one. Then pants and underwear, in a reversal of the way Steve had once looked after Eddie, in the weeks after his death and revival, and long hospital stay. There were no secrets between them, anymore, not really.

The dry clothes did nothing to soothe the sting, but Eddie wrapped a blanket around him, a fluffy throw from the couch, picked up the bag, and with a hand on the small of Steve’s back, walked them to the door. Steve turned back only once, and even in the bright flash of lightning, Barb was nowhere to be found. The pool was getting farther away again, but it might have just been a trick of the light.

The drive to Eddie’s wasn’t silent, but Steve didn’t remember Eddie ever keeping the volume of his radio so low. Whatever tape was in the deck was nothing more than a quiet hum over the rain and the rumble of the engine.

Then they were there, and Eddie was leading him inside with that hand on his back again, and he was being made to lay down on Eddie’s bed, and he tried to ask where Eddie was going to sleep, but he just got a shake of the head and a murmur of assurance, that Eddie would be alright.

For the first time in what must have been a very long time, Steve began to feel sleepy. Eddie was talking quietly, none of the words meant much of anything, but his voice rumbled like the thunder, now far in the distance, and the rain battered the roof of the small bungalow which Wayne and Eddie called home, and the room smelled like smoke and the sheets like sweat. Steve didn’t dream at all, but that blackness of sleep must have lasted forever.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #accidentally wrote a 2000 word fic in about an hour #something came over me and I had to write this #steve harrington whump #maybe?#im gonna be totally honest ive forgotten how to tag things #its been like 7 years since i last posted a fanfic anywhere #steve harrington and eddie munson #steve harrington angst #barbra holland #cw dissociation #cw survivors guilt #this is not an accurate depiction of a mental breakdown

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