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secretsofafangirll · 10 days

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video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment.

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #childhood best friends to lovers #fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo fanfic

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aemonds-sapphire · 2 years

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Bonding

Summary: You are excited to share the news with Aemond: you're with child. But nothing could have prepared you for his reaction…

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (wife)

Warnings: Pregnancy. Vulnerable Aemond opening up. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: I really hope you are able to fall deeper for Aemond as I have. Writing this really made me feel for him and everything he has been through.

Word count: 1.6k

Footsteps echoed across the bedroom as you patiently waited for him to return.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement, but you still had to remain calm and collected on the outside as servants were kept busy with their daily chores and entered the room freely.

Prince Aemond’s long awaited arrival was announced by the unmistakable groundshaking roar coming from Vhagar that tore throughout King’s Landing.

You rushed to the window in the hopes of spotting the young prince the mighty dragon, and when she came into your field of vision you could barely contain your emotions.

The old dragon glided across the sky in a gentle descent, heading towards the dragonpit. Now, Vhagar was far too enormous to be kept there, so it would just be a brief stop to drop off her rider.

Aemond sat upright with such elegance that you were certain he fully embodied the glory and might of the house of the dragon.

Nervousness started to grip your heart as you asked the servants to exit the room.

As minutes ticked by, you felt an impending nausea wash over you.

You couldn't be sick. Not now.

The bedroom door swung open and young Prince Aemond walked in, and removed his cloak off to reveal his handsome features.

"Lord husband," you greeted in a forced neutral tone and with a proper bow, lacing your hands in front of you.

Seeing your sudden serious pose had him curl his lips in his traditional smile as he adjusted his unruly silver hair.

"Lady wife," he bowed and the two of you just stood there in silence for a brief moment.

You were the first to crack the mask with a soft grin, rushing to his embrace.

Manners and formalities had no place when the two of you were alone, so you'd occasionally mock the lords and ladies of the court, which never failed to draw a smile from Aemond.

He enveloped you with his arms and pulled you into a sweet and tender kiss. You'd missed his warmth and how he had the ability to make it feel like you were his entire world.

Softness gave way to an increasing roughness as he deepened the kiss, cupping your face with one hand as the other gripped your waist.

Passionate as ever, Aemond had you melting into his touch, pressing his lower half to yours and letting you know of his intentions.

Oh.

You broke the kiss. "Well, someone's excited," you chuckled, looking down to the growing bulge in his dark pants.

"Dragon riding always sharpens my appetite," Aemond grinned mischievously, toying with the lace that carefully held your robes over your heaving breasts.

As much as you'd love to give into the temptation, you had to brush that aside, putting a halt to his prying fingers.

"I have something to tell you."

The young prince arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

You took his hand and placed it on your stomach, waiting for the implication to hit him.

"Are you hurt?" Aemond suddenly said as his voice had a hint of concern.

Men.

"No. I'm with child," you said, caressing the fingers on your belly. "Our child."

His face visibly dropped and he dropped his hand to his side.

"How?"

You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the absurdity of his question. "You really want to me to remind you of how this happened?"

He shook his head. "No, of course... I mean… are you certain?"

Apprehension took a hold of you, and slowly but surely your hands started shaking lightly.

Was he not happy? Did he not want a child?

Casting your worries aside, you cleared your throat. "Grand Maester Mellos has confirmed it. I haven't bled in two moon cycles."

Aemond remained silent as if still processing everything you'd just told him.

You searched for his hands and entwined your fingers with his. "What is it? You do not seem pleased..."

"What if I'm not fit to be a father?"

Those words took you aback momentarily. "Nonsense. Why do you think that?"

He was visibly uncomfortable as you felt the grip on your fingers increasing.

"I didn't grow up knowing what that feels like."

King Viserys had seldom been a father to his son. Even long before he had managed to bond with Vhagar. Every sense of loyalty and tenderness he had was taught by his mother. But the scars of neglect ran deep within his core, and you couldn't really blame his mind for conjuring up all these fears.

"You will be an exceptional father, I’m sure.”

He looked away, definitely avoiding your gaze. “And if our child grows to resent me like I resentsed my father..."

The damage Aemond Targaryen had been been subjected to had a firm grip on his emotional balance, and that much was crystal clear to you now. He kept coming up with daunting scenarios of how this would not go well, instead of embracing this as an opportunity for him to prove his worth by showing everyone that he was not his father.

You brought one hand to his face, silently pleading that he'd look at you.

"Do not worry about this, Aemond. You having these doubts shows me you're already a better father than he could ever be."

His uncovered eye landed on you, embracing your touch, but not your words.

“Our child could never resent you.”

"You do not know that."

"I do not," you nodded, caressing his cheek, keeping your eyes firmly on his. "But I do know you, and you are nothing like your father."

The young prince still didn't seem convinced in the slightest.

"Aemond... you will be an exceptional father." It was getting harder to maintain your voice calm as the gut-wrenching realisation hit you.

He had never once expressed wanting a child, and now you understood why. You didn't think much of it back then, because it was something to be expected in a marriage.

You'd wrongly assumed the hurt from his past wouldn't have such a hold on him, throwing him into this loop of never-ending worries.

"What if our child is unable to..." he paused abruptly and your heart clenched in anticipation as his eye was now set on your enlaced hands. "... to claim a dragon."

"Oh, Aemond," you whispered as an uncontrollable wave of concern washed over you. "Aemond..."

You weren't sure your words would bring any comfort to him, but it was the best you had to offer.

Unlacing your hands from his, you brought them to frame his face. "Look at me, Aemond."

When his eye met yours, you caressed his cheeks lovingly. Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead and even his breathing had become erratic.

It was as if the proud and elegant Targaryen prince had been replaced with someone else. You had heard the stories of how Aemond was once ridiculed for being unable to bond with a dragon, in spite of his best efforts.

"Do not pity me, my lady," he broke the silence. "Great warriors aren't born, they are made."

Always so eloquent, but it surely seemed like he was merely trying to convince himself of that.

You nodded. "Exactly. You faced that obstacle and you overcame it. You will be there for our child, and that is all that matters."

Aemond flinched away from your touch. "And if you're not?"

"What do you mean?"

"My father's first wife died during childbirth," his voice was strained. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"Aemond... you will not lose me," you weren't sure whether you were comforting him or yourself at this point. "Maester Mellos is quite capable and he has already provided me with some teas to boost my health."

Both his hands were now on yours as he leaned to rest his forward on yours.

"I cannot lose you." His voice was but a whisper.

"You will not," you said once more, closing both eyes and simply enjoying the unexpected display of adoration.

He heaved a deep sigh before pushing you into a tight embrace. "Avy jorrāelan."

Your eyes flew open and you felt your heart soar in delight. He had never uttered those words before. Not even on the day you were promised to each other for eternity.

If you were going to go on this new journey of having a child, you couldn't feel safer knowing it'd be by his side.

"Avy... jorāelan..." your High Varylian was rudementary at best, but that didn't stop you from trying.

You felt a low chuckle rumble across his chest. "Very good, lady wife."

"Do not mock me," your eyes looked up to meet him with a dramatic pout on your face.

A genuine smile tugged at his lips. "I wouldn't dream of doing so."

He then dropped to one knee, gripping your waist tenderly with both hands.

Nothing could have prepared you for witnessing Aemond Targaryen lovingly planting a kiss to your covered belly. Your tangled your fingers along his hair, completely and utterly in love with how vulnerable he looked, but also so willling to embrace change.

You watched as he pressed his cheek where his lips had just been, and whispered something in High Valyrian you couldn’t decipher. But maybe it wasn’t meant for you to.

This was just between them.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd imagine

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gardenschedule · 27 days

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just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

youtube

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #only a tiny fraction of insane things #they have such chaotic lore

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bellswlw · 1 year

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ it’s cold here without you ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 6k

part 1.5 | part two | masterlist

summary: after Ellie manages to finally get you to pose for her after arriving in Jackson months ago, you two attend the winter dance and it’s then that you realize you might like ellie as more than just a friend…

cw: bff!ellie, mutual pining, jealousy, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, inexperienced reader, artist!ellie, some fluff, edging (r!receiving kinda), love confessions, making out in semi public space (???) basically grumpy x sunshine, gardener!reader —lmk if there are more tags to add pls—

a/n: this was going to be angsty and sad but then this just happened so enjoy! (please be nice this is my first public wlw post and first fic i’ve been proud of in a minute so pls, pls just don’t be mean. i’ve been so nervous to post this all week help) proofread but there’s probably still some mistakes tbh

From the moment you walked into Jacksons gates, Ellie knew something. Something so small rang in her ears. So much so it almost hurt, it made her want to wince at the sight of you like you were a walking orb of fire and you had just exploded right in front of her.

She knew when you met Shimmer for the first time, she knew in the dining hall, and at the library and the school and the church. Especially at the church. She knew she would never be able to let you go. But she knew she would have to, eventually.

You spun slowly around in Ellie’s desk chair, your head resting back as the smoke filled your lungs more and more with each rotation.

“Please. I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone else there.” you say up into the ceiling while you wait for a response. You hear the crackle of weed burning straight through Ellie’s chest before anything else.

Her voice drops a little low when she finally speaks, the smoke falling from her lips like fog rolling over a still lake. “I’m sure Dina will be there. And Jesse. And literally everyone else.” Ellie was stretched out on the futon from across the room, caring less about the stupid winter dance.

You look at her then, a little dizzy and absolutely appalled that she wouldn’t want to go and watch people get drunk and dance to No Scrubs while high out of your minds.

She was never the type for large happy gatherings, but you figured she would go if she got to sit and watch for entertainment.

“Not everyone.” you whispered to yourself with a quick raise of your eyebrow before glancing at your hands quick enough to avoid Ellie's eyes that were suddenly boring into you.

Ellie sat up; the joint now glued to her lips.

“It’s a fuckin’ winter dance. In the Church. C’mon, how fun could it really be?”

You look up. Seeing how her eyes never left your face. Like you were meeting her there, through a dirty window with the reflection of her hazily standing beside you. A window that hasn't been buffed out yet, just a little foggy. Just a little.

“Well, it would be more fun if you went with me. Please. Just for an hour? Then we can come back here and do whatever you wanna do. Even if it's just sitting around. And you can draw me… if you want to.” you added the last part in a hushed tone, like the words were timid to come out.

But you had been secretly hoping she would since you got here.

You loved watching her draw, her fingers tracing over the paper so gently, like it was skin. Almost like it was yours. You wished it was… sometimes.

She looked away from you, drawing in another drag before she rested her elbows on her knees, legs spread wide.

Ellie had been wanting to draw you since the day you got here. The shape of your hips and the slope of your neck had haunted her pages for months. Erasing and sketching them again and again from memory. She wouldn’t let the opportunity pass her up and spit her out.

She sighed, trying to gauge if you had really meant it. Your tell wasn’t working since you were already beat red from just offering yourself up.

“Fine. Let’s just do it now, while we have time to spare.” was what she said instead, swallowing back her excitement and clearing her throat.

Ellie reaches over to you, handing you the joint and gently flexes her hand in your direction to tell you to finish it.

There wasn’t much left, maybe a little more than a roach. You took it from her a little eagerly, wanting the smoke to smooth your lungs and the quickend beat in your chest caused by Ellie’s hand grazing yours.

It didn’t take very long or much for you to feel it. You were such a lightweight.

Ellie of course found it hilarious when she realized. Catching on and laughing at you from across the room when you started giggling at the word “Infectious.”

Maria had said your laugh was “infectious” in the stables and considering the circumstances, it was true. Only, this time Ellie wasn’t immune to it. She had followed suit and ducked her head over her shoulder away from you to collect herself while shimmer groaned in relief.

“It’s just so—“ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your knees while sitting on the floor against the side of Ellie’s bed frame.

The distance was necessary since you had only met a few days prior.

Ellie looked up at you, with her brows pulled together in confusion before she put two and two together.

“Wait. Are you high?” she asked with a chuckle.

The room was clouded with a thin layer of smoke, barely enough to be able to see to the naked eye.

Your eyes had shot open wide, terrified.

“You are! Holy shit, this is good.” her voice carved the words into you then, the goosebumps running through your legs until they reached your core and exploded there with millions of needles with nowhere to go. You were soaked.

Ellie hadn’t laughed that hard in a minute, with her hand flat on her stomach to try and help the coiling feeling deep in her stomach.

“That’s fucking hilarious.” she murmured, her head falling back against the futon before taking a hit so big her cheeks had funneled in.

“Shut up.”

You were bright red with embarrassment and Ellie couldn’t look you in the eye without the image burning into her mind for the next week.

You think back on it now and what took place only a few hours before, letting a dry chuckle fall from your lips and echo into the quiet of the room.

Ellie’s still for a moment, but then joins in and laughs hard enough for her body to jolt with each exhale.

“What?” her tell floats to the surface immediately as she wipes the bow above her lip nervously.

“Do… do you remember that one time–” You stifle back a small laugh with your hand, slightly doubled over in the chair and your other flat against the coffee table for support.

“What?” she asks again, an unsteady smile creeping its way in.

“When… when we were– I can’t!” you confess, letting out a burst of laughter and slowly sliding down onto the floor.

“What?!” Ellie exclaims, a laugh finally falling from her lips while her hands tense out in front of her.

“When we were in the stab… stables. And I met Shimmer? And then I was petting her ears and all of this sudden, she rips absolute ass! Do you remember that?!” you let out a laugh, deeper from within your stomach causing you to hold onto it with both hands as the giggles ate you alive.

Ellie lets the smile on her face break, and then after hearing you kick your feet against the floor she erupts too, leaning over a bit to join in.

“You got so scared!” she exclaims, which only sends you further into a fit of laughter, breathing heavily for a few seconds and then starting right back up again.

“It was… It was so loud! An– and long?!?”

Ellie eventually joins you on the floor, laughing hard enough to where a vein is popping from her neck, just noticeable enough to where if you reached your hand out to touch it, you could even feel her pulse.

She looks over at you, seeing your eyes pinched shut and your smile wider than she’s ever seen it before. It was incredible.

As your laughter subsides, your eyes find their way to Ellie’s. Watching you, of course.

“Oh,” you say with the smallest giggle attached, then letting it fall away to join the burning embers that lifted the hair off your skin.

She smiled at you, fully now with no hesitation. “Can I draw you?” she asked, not looking away once. Her voice became a little rusted, and it chipped on its way out of her throat like a stone on pavement.

You fought the urge to crack. “Sure.” you said instead, and looked away from her quickly just to pull your eyes back to her slightly parted lips.

Ellie’s smile faltered a moment, resting on her side next to you. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to keep this image of you alive inside her head for the rest of her life. She wanted to keep you forever. Obviously she knew she couldn’t. She’d fuck it up sooner or later.

“What?” you ask, gaping at her with so much love plastered on your cheeks it almost looked fake. Too saturated. Too real. Ellie had the urge to swipe the pad of her thumb across it just to see if it would smudge. She knew it wouldn’t. She just wanted an excuse.

Instead, Ellie glanced away –finally– and lifted a hand to the right side of your face, tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear gently. You froze.

“Just um, put this right here.” she whispered.

Her eyes were glued on yours. The beautiful emerald that made your heart freeze in time just jumped into a millions beats per minute with the touch of her hand alone.

Ellie’s hand was still hovering over your jaw, like she was afraid you would fade away if she let you go.

But she had to. She knew that, some part of her had to know that.

Her hand fell back at her side, and Ellie cleared her throat one more time.

“Um, stay just stay how you are. I’ll draw you just like this, yeah?” you were too stunned to speak, so you nodded once and swallowed back the butterflies that had just burst in your stomach.

“Okay.” you could hear the smile in her voice as she got up on her feet in one quick motion, leaving you to stare mindlessly at the door.

You felt like you were posing naked for her somehow, like she had stripped you clean and she would be basing her art off of you. You hated how self conscious you suddenly felt, but selfishly you loved how excited she got.

And just like that, you're burning up again, your cheeks catch the flint and light is bursting from beneath your skin.

You smother it. You act calm, and cool, and not like you are the horniest you've ever been around someone you could never have.

You don’t move a muscle when Ellie sets down pads of paper, jars of brushes, ink, parchment paper, water color, and charcoal all within a minute or two and is sitting down next to you again.

She put her hands to her mouth, unable to keep her excitement hidden. “Okay. Um. Just, uh, yeah just stay exactly how you are. Try not to move. Or laugh.” you can’t help but let the smirk sink into your face before playfully scoffing under your breath.

You followed her instructions word for word. You didn’t move. No matter how badly you had to pee. You wouldn’t move until she was done.

And so far, it felt like you had been posing for what felt like 2 hours based on how many pieces of paper Ellie had already used, and the fact that the water was completely dark with no more room for ink. Or that her fingers were coated in charcoal and it had smudged on her face as she tried relentlessly to keep the stray hair behind her ear.

But you watched her. You watched her hands dance across the paper like skin. Your skin. –on paper anyway– You noticed her tongue dipping in and out of her mouth as she concentrated on capturing the curve of your arm and the texture of your jeans that made you want to crawl out of them.

Ellie couldn't get the images of you on paper fast enough. There were so many. She had to get it absolutely perfect: the slope of your nose, your crooked hairline caused from laying on your side, the delicacy of your fingers as they rested on the curve of your hip. She had to get all of them out right now or else she would have to keep memorizing and sketching and staring.

Secretly, she wanted to keep a few for herself too. To remind herself that you were real, and that she had you at one point. Ellie only had so much ink and charcoal left, but she didn’t care, she would use it all. She would draw you a million times if it meant you would look at her like this just one more time. She would do anything… anything for you. If she just had the chance, she’d take it. Instead of running away to catch the lungs that were sprinting away from her.

But she would try, with all the power and love she's ever had. She would give it all to you, and you wouldn’t even have to ask. Ellie would give it up willingly, she would beg you to take it from her and say “I don't know what to do with it.”

“Hm?” you ask from your position on the floor. “Do with what?” and her eyes flickered towards you.

She forgot you were really there. That you weren’t another dream. That you could see her.

Ellie cleared her throat and her voice broke when she spoke again.

“Um, the drawing. It’s done. I don’t know what to do with it.” she looked at you one last time before you shot up from the floor and sat next to her.

“Can I see it?!” you said, cheery like a child who had just had their picture taken in a cardboard cutout stand.

“Yeah.”

Ellie turned the pad over to you, and just when she thought she hated it you covered your mouth with both hands and let in a sharp inhale.

You were quiet for a moment, and Ellie was still a little worried you saw right through her until you turned to look at her with tears pooling in your eyes.

“Oh, Ellie. Holy shit. This is the best one yet.”

She let herself feel a little proud then, a smile fighting its way onto her face once again. She never knew why she was always fighting it, it would happen nearly every single time.

“That’s just because I made you look so good.” and she nudged you a little.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m serious. It’s beautiful Els.” and you turned away to look back at the drawing before blinking away the tears in your eyes.

There’s a moment there, where the two of you are staring at… you. “No one’s ever drawn me before. It's weird looking at myself like this.” and you then felt Ellie’s eyes burn the side of your face, begging for you to look at her.

You tilt your head slightly, not stripping your eyes away from the page until the very last second.

Ellie was blushing. She was fucking blushing.

She looked away the second your eyes had found hers.

“Here, you can have it.” and she folded the page into your hand and held it there for a beat.

A beat too long.

The glass was clearing up, the fog dissipating into thin air at lightning speed.

You cleared your throat in hopes to silently slice the tension that was building around the two of you.

“Thanks.” you let your eyes fall to your lap. “We should uh, probably get ready.”

Ellie looks away again, patting her thighs as she exhales swiftly. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.”

“Come on, I don’t wanna be the last one there! It’s already started.”

You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, actually watching Ellie fix her hair. It was pulled back into a low bun, and the layered pieces kept falling forward, not wanting to swoop back with the rest of it.

“I just, I can’t get this fucking— oh, god dammit!” she exclaimed, letting her hands fly out at her sides and grip the edge of the bathroom counter to take a breath.

“Here, let me help you.”

You took a step off the frame, pulling a pin from your hair and gently stepping up to Ellie to slide the pin into place. You must have accidentally got her scalp because she squeezed one eye shut and let a small wince escape her lips.

“Sorry.” you said, and tapped the pin to make sure it was snug.

You felt Ellie’s eyes on you from the reflection of the mirror. Of course. They were burning into you like the reflection of a magnifying glass.

Ellie’s hands grip harder on the countertop, watching your delicate fingers play with the pin. Collecting strands of her hair and then gently sweeping them behind it as gently as she can so as not to poke you again.

“Thanks.” she says instead, and lets go of the counter with a gentle push. Her hands have a red mark from her grip that when she flexes her hands, she feels her skin pull with resistance.

“Yeah.” you look away, even though you feel the warmth radiating off of her. Sending something through you.

“Okay. Let's go before we’re stuck outside. I heard they are checking for ID." There's a joke somewhere in her voice, but it gets buried by the sudden feeling of your hand twisted in yours.

“Ellie, your hand is freezing.” you say, entirely missing the joke she was trying to make and placing your other hand around hers.

She looked down to see her hand barely covered by both of yours, and she lets the feeling of your skin melt into hers like molten lava.

She was always lighting you on fire. Now, you were warming her up, meeting her halfway.

The dance was better than Ellie had expected. The room was full of people in cowboy boots and actually square dancing. Not just in the movies like she thought.

And you were smiling from ear to ear, happy to see so many people laughing and having fun while they still could. So of course Ellie was happy to be there. She fucking lived to see you smile like you were right now.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” Ellie said against your neck, yelling over the music.

“No! I’m gonna dance.” and she nodded, eager to let go of your hand. She didn’t want to lose you in the crowd. She didn’t want to lose you, period. But of course, she would eventually.

Your hand fell from hers as you made your way into the line dance, knocking your feet back and forth on its heel and toe while clapping your hands along to the music that was actually ‘not that bad’.

Ellie’s standing at the bar, a drink in her hand with no intention of actually drinking it. She wasn’t that big a drinker, but she wanted to keep herself busy while trying so hard not to stare at you from across the room.

It wasn't working, obviously.

She was actually glad she came, because she had never seen you this… bright. You were floating across the dancefloor like some kind of angel. She couldn’t place you. Not here anyway. You looked so out of place, with your smile wide and cheeks completely beet red from dancing, it's like you were more saturated than everyone else, like you were literally glowing.

She snaps out of it when she sees you heading over to her, a smile plastered on your face and sweat beading just above your top lip.

“Oh jeez, they weren’t kidding.” you say to her, out of breath and laughing a little.

“Who?” she asks.

“Tommy and Maria. When we were all putting the flyers up they said it would definitely be an owl here.” and you couldn’t keep it together, laughing into your hand and leaning forward into Ellie’s shoulder.

“That… was terrible.” she smirks.

She loved it.

You pull back, flexing your hands out wide at your sides before letting out a short exhale. “No, but seriously. You guys might not party very often, but when you do it gets crazy. I was drowning out there!”

“You seemed to be doing fine to me.” Ellie offered up. She was flushed.

“Oh yeah? You try going out there. It’s not as easy as it looks.” and you tilted your head playfully, emphasizing your point.

She looked down at her glass then, breaking away quick enough to avoid your eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now, where is the bathroom?”

And Ellie took the smallest sip from her glass just before pointing to her right and bending her wrist the same direction. “Through the doors and on the right.”

You smiled at her, touching her arm with clammy hands. “Hey, dance with me when I come back?” your grasp on her was slipping away, waiting for her answer before letting go completely.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You beamed, completely unable to hide it this time. You thought you maybe didn’t have to, that you would maybe… finally… be able to clean this goddamn window for good.

You call out to her before disappearing, “Oh hey, you were right! Dina’s here!”

The second Ellie registers what you said, suddenly Dina has appeared into thin air and is dancing with someone a few feet away.

And again, a few moments later, Jesse appears from your left, a matching glass in his hand.

“She’s uh… putting on quite the show.” he says, and it's then that she looks up at her, watching as she gets dipped and the music fades out.

“I give you guys two weeks until you're back together.” and she chuckles.

“Not gonna happen.”

She looks away from him briefly, glancing into her drink that’s gone warm.

“She uh, say something to you?” Jesse asks before looking at her again.

“Make it one week.”

While Ellie’s attention is turned towards Jesse, just then Dina comes over and draws it back toward her.

“Ellie, hey!”

Jesse adjusts his posture, standing taller. It’s so obvious he wants her back.

Dina takes the drink from your hand, shooting it back and placing it on the bar behind you with a thud.

“Dina.” he says, lifting his glass, almost like he was offering it up to her.

“Jesse.” is all she says instead, eyeing him slowly.

“C’mon,” she says, and grabs Ellie’s hand.

“Wait, I was gonna–” but it's no use, because Jesse is talking over you from the bar.

“Hey! Don’t forget we're headin’ out early, so get some rest!” and before Ellie can even look back at him all the way, Dina is already talking again.

“Yes sir.”

Ellie is looking down at her feet, trying not to trip over them as Dina continues to pull her farther into the crowd of people.

“You're such a dick.” she murmured.

Dina’s hands fell easily on her shoulders moments after she placed Ellie’s on her waist.

Just then, you came out from the bathroom trying to pick through the crowd to find her, seeing the empty glass and missing spot from the bar.

You make your way over to Jesse, who you were kind of surprised to see there since he wasn’t much of a partier.

You go to ask where Ellie went, if she had somehow missed her walking into the bathroom… but the words die in your throat when you see her smack dead in the middle of the floor, with Dina rubbing her cheek against Ellie’s and a sly smile on her face.

“I hate these things.” Jesse said.

You glance over at him, noticing he was watching Ellie and Dina too.

“Tell me about it.” you say, looking back at Dina.

She has her arm wrapped around Ellie’s neck, a single hand pulling the same strand of hair that has been falling out of place all day.

The same one you pinned. The same girl who had drawn you just 2 hours ago.

The same girl… that was kissing Dina.

She… she kissed her.

Your windows shattered, shards falling to the floor like needles and with the heartbeat that had been run over and sliced clean in half.

You feel yourself wince at the sight, and before you think twice, you're up from the bar and leave through the back.

You fucking blew it.

Ellie’s hands were stuffed deep inside her pockets, walking around Jackson like a lost puppy.

She hadn’t seen you since the dance. Which to you both felt like a lot longer.

She looked for you afterward, apologizing to Dina before pulling away from her to ask if anyone had seen where you went, if anyone saw you leave with Jesse and wondering what the fuck just happened.

When you got home, the second you closed the door behind you you couldn't help but let the hot tears stream down your frosted cheeks.

You had tried so hard, so hard to let Ellie see how much of her you liked, and completely obvious you made it seem.

You posed for her. Not naked, but the act still made you think it was worth something. So much so that when you pulled her drawing from your backpocket, slightly smudged from dancing all night and when you had pulled it out on your way home contemplating throwing it away.

You shoved it under your pillow instead, climbing in bed shortly after and rocking yourself to sleep and trying to get the image of Ellie’s lips out of your mind.

Ellie showed up the next morning, knocking on your locked bedroom door.

It had scared her, how raw her voice sounded, and how at the same time it had never sounded softer than when she said “Hey, you in there?”

And when you didn’t reply, you could hear her let out a small sigh before stepping away from the door.

You pulled your covers tight over your head and shut your eyes tight with regret.

Eventually, you realized you had to get up to go to work. It was cold out, but luckily you had gotten to work in the greenhouse since it was a low leveled job and you enjoyed it. Plus the warmth helped too.

The greenhouse door was cracked open by a hair, a dead giveaway you were inside. You still never figured out how to latch it all the way closed, and it seemed to get heavier each time you went to move it.

Ellie pulled her lip to the side, nibbling nervously on the inside of her cheek. She felt so fucking stupid, letting Dina kiss her like that. Letting her dance with her. She was such a fuck up, as per usual.

She was walking around aimlessly, bored, and confused.

She didn't know what to do without you. It was so routine with the two of you.

You would meet Ellie at the stables after her patrol shift was over (which was usually in the mornings) and then you would hang out together at hers. And she would usually find you in the dining hall or the library if you were scheduled there.

But since the dance, she hadn’t known where you were, and it's like she had never been to this version of Jackson without you in it.

She had, years ago, but she could never remember what it was really like. Almost as if it didn’t really exist without you.

And just as she was about to head home, with the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds, she spotted the multiple greenhouses. With one in particular that had a light striking a clear view of you inside.

Ellie pulled her hands from her pockets, a close lipped smile breaking on her face instantly.

She nudged the door with her body and her head barely visible to you from the other side.

But you felt her there. You didn’t know how, but you could tell she was standing outside the door before you saw her.

“Holy shit it's warm in here. Now I see why you always pick this over patrol.” and she watched as you plucked leaves from the tarragon plant.

“What are you doing?” you asked, not looking at her.

Your hands started to shake mildly, and you tried not to give into her eyes that burned a hole in your heart.

“Looking for you. I Thought I’d find you here.” she said, closing the door all the way (of course she'd be able to) and fumbled with her hands, a little nervous.

“I’m almost done here. I just need to take these clippings and a few other things.” your hands carry a tremble now, and Ellie can see it.

She takes a step closer to you, and it's unavoidable not to look at her now.

“Can we talk about last night?” Ellie asks with her hand flat against the workbench and her brows are pulled together in a frown.

“There's nothing to talk about. I just… I wanted to go home. I didn’t wanna bother you and Dina. you seemed like you were having fun.” as you tied the twine around the clippings, Ellie's hand covered yours on an exploded scale.

You turn your head, looking at her and seeing right through her.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that. Dina… was just being Dina. She didn’t mean anything by it.” Ellie's thumb started to form small circles on your skin, drawing you in, inch by inch.

Ellie took a small step toward you, her other hand reaching up and cooling the burning of your neck.

She leaned in toward you, and her lips grazed yours before kissing you softly. It was wrong, it was so so wrong.

You closed your eyes and a single tear rolled down your cheek fast enough to transfer to Ellie’s.

You pull your hand back from hers, taking a complete step backward and trying to conceal the tears that wanted to run down your cheeks freely.

“Do you like me, Ellie?”

The words had shocked the look off her face, only for her to reposition her brows into a confused glare.

“What?”

“Do you like me.” and there is a quiver in your voice. Her figure becomes blurry, but before she disappears completely you tilt your head and wipe your tears on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I– Yeah. Yeah, I like you. Why would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“Why would Dina?”

Her head drops down between her shoulders as she sighed. She didn’t know. She didn’t. But she knew that she would rather freeze to death than lose you, she knew that much.

She pulled her lips between her teeth “I– I don’t know. I- She- Dina kissed me, okay? And she asked me to dance. I didnt– I wanted to dance with you, I wanted to…” she couldn’t say it.

“What?”

“I wanted to kiss you, alright. I wanted to even before then. Before the dance or before the stables. From the moment you got here I knew. I just didn’t know. I do now, I swear.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to say everything, anything. Your lips were sealed with hot tears streaming down your face.

“Can you say something?” Her voice is merely a whisper like a jagged piece of ice dragging across your skin just light enough to form goosebumps.

You pinch your eyes shut and let your hands shakily wipe the salt water from your face.

“I– I… Ellie. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, this…”

She takes a small step toward you, grabbing a hold of your wrists gently enough for your back to meet the opposite wall of the greenhouse and boxing you in around the floor to ceiling plants that were on either side of you.

“Just, say something, please.” Ellie gave your wrists a little shake, freeing them from your face.

She looked worried now, and the thought of her thinking you didn’t like her sent a strike of sadness through you.

You move your hands fully away from your face and let them fall at your sides, lacing your fingers with Ellie’s slowly. She’s looking down at them, and swinging them softly from side to side.

“I… I liked you too. From the beginning I mean. In the dining hall when you sat next to me. I liked you then, I still do.” you confessed.

You felt the fire in your cheeks and you couldn’t meet Ellie’s eyes and you made way with her chest.

She leaned down an inch to place her forehead together with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You let out a breath, a scoff even. “I tried! I was trying this entire time. And plus, you just said you realized you liked me. I wasn’t sure.”

Her words rang through you. You shook with anticipation.

“Is that why you left last night? Because you were jealous?” and Ellie’s voice rose to a mocking tone, tugging on your hands in a playful manner.

“Shut up. I was not.” and you look away, the smile bolted across your face proudly.

“You were! Say it, say it please! Tell me how jealous you were. C’mon, tell me tell me tell me!”

And it's then that you smash your lips against Ellie’s to meet her halfway with just the very tip of your toes.

Her lips were warm with lust, her hands breaking from yours to find the soft spots behind your ears with a swipe. Ellie exhaled into your mouth immediately and your head met the back wall of the greenhouse with a soft thud.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance that was obviously unnecessary by how quickly you parted your lips for her. She rubbed slow circles over your jaw, and soon enough her hand was traveling down the curve of your hip and squeezing there. Just enough to express a moan from you.

Ellie smirked against your lips, drawing back for a breath before kissing you harder now, not hesitating or double checking for dominance. You were absolutely floored.

Your shirt had ridden up just mere inches, and her hand was met with the small piece of bare flesh there, causing you to let in a sharp inhale through your nose.

Both of Ellie’s hands are playing with the button of your jeans, fighting to get them undone and pulled down just below your pulsing cunt.

Once her hand finally finds the band of your underwear, it's over. You were already completely unfolding right in front of her.

Your mouth falls open, and a moan slips from your lips, a little louder now as you arch your back to be flush with Ellie. She bends back the band of elastic, traveling down to reach the very top of your pussy she can already feel how wet you are for her.

Just then, both of your hands fly to grip her inked forearm. A silent warning.

“Your hand… ‘s cold.” is all you can make out.

Ellie pulls back to take a look at you. You're absolutely flushed. “D’you want me to stop?” It was genuine. She wanted this to be perfect for you. She wanted to get it right.

“I– I want to keep going, but I-” and Ellie uncoiled her hand from beneath your pants to rest it on your hip.

“I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.” she let her arms straighten against you, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m ready. Really. I just don’t really wanna… do it here. It’s kinda dirty. And also probably illegal. And I really do have to take that stuff in.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re cute. Why don’t we take them together, and then, if you want, we can go hang out at mine?”

You looked at her with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

#it’s cold here without you #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #the last of us smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #bellswlw

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sanctus-ingenium · 2 years

Photo

WIPs of some of my drawings where i made a full little painting for the sketch to nail colours or values first. i thought it would be fun to do a Behind The Scenes and also show u how some drawings changed, what i kept and what i discarded and at what point i just started adding unplanned details

all these were done using a mixture of sai and procreate

more comments on The Process under the cut

eye of the otherworld is inspired by a real photo i took two weeks ago!

i soooo wanted to draw water that looked like this, weeds and all, so the original colours of that sketch were picked direct from the photo. but i wasn’t satisfied with it so i changed it using a gradient map (you can see it’s crunchy on the borders between colours). for the final, i re-painted everything again using the sketch colours as a guide so that i would not end up with the crunchy edges a gradient map will give u, and so that i could add in extra contrast over the top. the black swirl pattern in the final was an ad lib lol but i’m really happy with how it gives the impression of water or liquid even if it’s not realistic... i will try again to recreate something like this photo tho because i am obsessed. the birds were originally swans but the necks were driving me crazy i needed a bird with a shorter neck and grebes are associated with this location in canon so it was perfect. they have very funny feet. the last detail i added to this was the white flashes in their primary flight feathers (which do not occur in nature btw)

hanged man was an interesting one because it’s based on a sketch i made in 2020 when i first wrote this fun impalement scene

here is félix being impaled for the first time in 2020 by a rusted harpoon that essentially rips his human disguise off to reveal the black carapace underneath

for the coloured sketch in the photoset i re-lined this exact sketch in sai to update it to match my current lineart style, but as you can see i realised the pose itself needed work and not just a re-line so i completely redid it in procreate to exaggerate the pose and gestures. i went into this one already knowing exactly what bg colours i wanted so that was no issue but the hardest part was weirdly figuring out what he was going to be standing on. in canon he is standing on top of a very high wall and leaning back over a fatal drop. the black pencil lines in the clouds and the bird were ad libbed but i liked the idea of throwing the bird in as some extra symbol of freedom the likes of which you will not experience if you have been shot with a harpoon. the green was not working at all so the swap out to more purpley pink tones was last minute. i unified the different colours by using a colour-shifting brush (you’ll see that his gaiters are different colours - i didn’t hand pick those, the colour jitter did)

for Big Pascal... originally it was going to be a confrontation between the guy on the ground and pascal but i wasn’t feeling the standing pose and it ended up being... if not restful then at least maybe a little more benevolent than the shadow of colossus shit it was before. the white cracks in the sky were originally going to be black but it just didn’t work. a lot of people tag this one as some form of cowboy aesthetic which is funny to me. there’s no cowboys here

i do like the lens flare effect in the b&w thumbnail tbh and i think i kind of lost the low camera angle effect in the final

i drew a bonus comic of the two characters interacting during this scene (mostly the lil guy just trying to ignore what’s happening in the sky)

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vmpiires · 2 months

Text

﹆₊ 画家‧₊˚ THE BLOOD PAINTER, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; the painter‘s hidden identity is made known. wc, 3.42K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i’m back with this storyyyy. getting near the good part which also means the end but not just yet sooo just keep reading. hope ya enjoyyyy and reblog to support meee.

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART THREE

the art class was bustling with students, the scent of paint and clay wafting through the air. choso sat at his usual spot stealing glances from you. the professor announced a small project; drawing and painting your partners. but there was a twist—only two colors could be used.

choso’s heart raced as ideas began to flood his mind. everyone scattered around to their new seats and the male instantly scooted next to you. he smiled at you. it was something about that shy smile he gave you before he quietly asking if he could draw you.

“let me draw you first,” you smiled. “i don’t want you getting caught up with me and i completely forget to draw you.”

“oh, i don’t know…i’m not really good with posing or anything. and i’m not able to sit still for very long.” choso warned but you only smacked your lips as if the boy was spewing nonsense right out of his teeth.

“quit doubting yourself. you got nice style and your face would literally be perfect on a magazine cover maybe even in the art show that’s coming up.”

“art show?” choso raised a brow. for someone that loved art contests and taking trips to museums just to stare at the portrait hanging on the white walls encased in an embezzled gold frame, he seemed surprised about this information.

“yeah. don’t know how you haven’t heard about it but i was thinking of putting my painting of you in once it was finished.” you looked down at your blank canvas that was resting flat on the table just as it did when you first arrived to class.

“oh, no, you shouldn’t—i mean..you can if you want to it’s your painting but…i really don’t like being the center of attention. i don’t really like being stared at.” choso explained. he bit down on his lower lip and he sighed.

“come on, it’ll be a powerful piece.” you beamed. “i feel like it’ll really make an impact on the audience. and i promise i won’t use your name if you don’t want me to.”

choso hummed, his lips pursed before speaking again. “um…well if you think so highly of the piece then i guess i can’t say no. just promise you won’t tell anybody it’s me.”

“sure. now just hold still for me.” you say with a smile.

classes finally end for the day and the two of you made progress on your art pieces. you decided to ask choso to spend the rest of the day together, to which he agreed to without hesitation.

you both gathered your items and headed out into the bustling city of tokyo. the sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. you and choso arrive at a cozy cafe and settled into a booth by a large window, surrounded by the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

the two of you had been there for a good thirty minutes talking about whatever came to mind, bouncing from topic to topic and bookmarking whatever part of the conversation you thought was interesting for another time.

“so, choso, you’ve always been into art?”

“yeah, well, i’ve always had a creative side, but i never really pursued it until recently. art helps me express things that are hard to put into words, you know?”

you nod. you never seen his art before and you just wondered how he had done things. your eyes travel over to the tote bag that was sitting flatly beside choso’s thigh. you fixed your lips to speak but a camera flash went off. you were pretty used to his off guard photos ever since the two of you started to hang out more often.

“can i see?” you leaned your body over the polished wood table before choso lowered his camera.

“not yet.” he answered. “mmm…i’ll show you when the project is complete. until then, i’ll have to hold off on showing you.”

you pout but you could understand why choso was being a bit selfish with his crafts. instead of begging to see a photo of yourself, which you prayed you didn’t blink in, you pointed to his bag.

“why don’t you finish your sketch? i mean, we have a lot of privacy right now and we don’t have any classes tomorrow. i also wanna watch you paint. its something about watching an artist in action is just so satisfying.” you say.

choso, lost in the depths of his own world, takes a sip of his green tea when he hears your unexpected statement. he recently started drinking it a bit more since that was the only thing he actually liked besides ice water.

feeling a surge of nervousness and excitement, choso shifts in his seat. painting in front of someone, especially you, made him feel vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to.

“i’m not sure…” choso looks down at his cup half filled with tea, which still had smoke billowing from it because of how hot it was. “i’ve never painted with someone else in the room before. it’s a pretty personal process for me.”

“c’mon, please? just for a minute.” you pleaded, clasping your hands and intertwining your fingers to be dramatic. choso chuckled at your silly behavior and simply sighed.

“let’s head back to the school and you can watch me work in my room, fair?” choso looks at you, awaiting an answer. of course, you agree.

back at jujutsu tech, you and choso were settling in, slipping your shoes off once you entered the room and placing your bags together against the wall.

you were amazed at how much space he had and how organized he was. the books on the bookshelves were all in size and color order and so were the cute little jars of paint that were on another shelf but you noticed that there was no red paint.

the desk was neatly organized also with choso’s laptop and ipad with its stylus side by side, charging. there was a mug with a bunch of pencils and pens and another cylinder item that looked handmade and painted with brushes in them. you assumed choso made it.

there was an easel in the corner of the room by the large windows that had blinds that would be shortly opened to let in some of the remaining light as the sun set. choso grabbed a few brushes and the rolling chair that sat at his desk and pulled it over in front of the easel and sat down. the male then reached for the canvas that had the drawing of you from his bag and placed it onto the easel. he looked pretty prepared now.

“you mind filling me a cup of clean water from the faucet?”

the question snaps you out of your awe-stricken mind and you nod. you went to the kitchen area and grabbed a cup that didn’t look like it would be used any time soon and filled it with water then brought it back to choso. he directs you to place the cup on the desk before thanking you for the simple gesture.

you noticed choso had his eyes closed now, taking a few breaths before removing the bandage on his nose and trashing it. you saw how blood shot from the black mark running over the bridge of his nose and onto the palette that was in his lap.

choso picks up one of the brushes and dipped it into the crimson liquid that had also been running down his face and began to paint. once the brush hits the canvas, all his nerves seem to dissipate, replaced by the familiar focus that comes with creating.

as choso dips his brush into the blood-infused paint, the room falls silent. the only sounds are the soft scrapes of the brush against the canvas and the occasional drips of paint.

you watched as colors of red and black filled the canvas. you weren’t familiar with the meanings of specific colors but the way you were drawn on his canvas as royalty, you could see sophistication and passion. choso put the brush down and rolled up his sleeves and began to use his fingers to paint. smearing the colors together with his knuckles.

your eyes sparkled, entranced, as choso’s knuckles danced across the canvas, blending the deep reds into the black that was present. the male was aware that he was in need of a palette knife but he’s never gotten the time to buy any.

“the way you use blood for your art is actually unique.” you spoke, breaking the silence. “i guess it adds depth and richness that’s hard to describe. it looks like the painting is alive almost.”

you were seeing it with your own eyes, his art style was hauntingly beautiful. you never seen anything like it. this whole scenario made you wonder if blood was often used when he painted or was this just a perfect coincidence. you slouch in your chair, in thought once again.

“blood has always been a part of me. a part of everyone, i should say. but mine is a curse and a blessing. incorporating it into my art feels natural to me. it’s like i’m putting a part of myself into each piece.” choso murmured.

“um…you know, i never heard you talk about your parents much, only your brothers. they must be really proud of you…you being all smart and artistic and such.” you say softly.

choso’s hand freezes mid stroke, his expression darkening. he sets down his brush and turns to face you. you see how that empty expression of his appeared onto his face again.

“my parents…they’re not in the picture. my mom isn’t alive and my dad was never proud of me. he only saw me as a tool, a weapon to be wielded. i’m happy he left me behind…”

your expression softens. on the outside, choso looked like he had it all. he was attractive, smart, talented, hell if he wasn’t the smartest guy around he probably would’ve gotten in just for being attractive and talented. he seemed perfect. but in reality, he was living in a fucked up world holding on to his creations for comfort.

“i’m so sorry, choso. i probably shouldn’t have brought that up and make you relive painful memories. but despite your past, you managed to create something beautiful out of the darkness. that takes a lot of courage and strength.”

choso nods, his gaze returning to the painting. he picks up his brush once again, lost in thought. he exhaled from his nose. though the topic did hit a nerve, he felt like he could trust you.

“it’s…fine i guess. it was a while ago. my brothers were the ones who helped me escape that life. we all live for each other and nothing can make me change that narrative. they’re my family and we’ve been through a lot together.”

“they must be really important to you, huh? you see them often?” you query. choso nodded again.

“as much as i can. i don’t really have the funds to constantly take train rides back and forth from my house to here and vice versa. we try to stay in touch, the most i can do is call them each night. yuji and eso are busy with their own business and you know they have to keep kechizu close because he’s pretty childlike and clings to eso like he’s his savior.”

you noticed the small smile on his face as he spoke of his brothers. him being the eldest, you would’ve expected him to severely despise his brothers but it seemed like he couldn’t even say the word ‘hate’ when talking about them. it was actually pretty sweet.

as the evening comes to an end, you find yourself standing outside of choso’s room and he’s leaning against the doorframe, his sleeves still rolled up, revealing thin strips of stitches along his forearm.

“what happened to your arm?” you point, making choso break his gaze and follow your finger to where you had been pointing. he only shrugged.

“a stupid accident. nothing too much to worry about.” he answered, rubbing the brand new bandage he had over his nose. his cheeks were still a little red from the blood that had been running down his face earlier.

“you should keep your bandage off. that mark is a part of who you are, and you know i accept that.” you say. choso is taken aback by your words, his hand instinctively touching the bandage again.

“it’s…not easy. people have always been afraid of me because of what what i am. it’s just easier to keep it hidden.”

“but you don’t have to hide from me. i see you, choso, for who you are, not what you are. you’re a human just like any other person here. and i think your mark is pretty cool, actually.”

choso couldn’t help but smile at your words. maybe—just maybe you had a point. maybe it was time for him to change his ways. get out of his comfort zone a little.

“um…yeah, thanks. i’ll think about it. goodnight.”

“goodnight, choso.”

“and this one would be called ‘the blood painter’.” the announcer spoke as the crowd followed around. it was perfect. better than anything else being displayed. choso stood in front of the painted canvas, staring at his own face looking down at his own partially painted portrait with a crimson liquid dripping from his nose and onto the canvas. there was a white cup filled with tea, which had been leaking from the sides as if it were overfilled.

his hair flopped down into his face before lifting a hand to brush it back with his fingers. he was awestruck. how could you have painted something like this with almost no experience. he could’ve sworn you said you were horrible at this kind of thing…maybe his memory was faulty.

“it’s perfect….” you hear him mumble as he stepped closer to the portrait. he was so tempted to touch it but he abided by the rules of not touching or taking any photos of the paintings being displayed. “how did you do this? you couldn’t have—no, you did…but this is so different from your drawing.”

“it was only a sketch. a way to get your features and everything properly. but a few days ago when we hung out, i thought i’d make something more expressive.” you grinned.

“i’m impressed.” choso’s eyes sparkled. “it’s like you captured my soul onto the canvas. i mean, i’ve seen art that expresses the soul of another person but this one is—wow.”

the male looked at you and his cheeks flushed a little. “maybe i got a little too excited. you did a nice job on your painting. hopefully you got a passing grade on it.”

you smiled at choso’s excitement and love for the art you made of him. you both knew it was simply for an assignment that would be graded then tucked away forever or thrown into a nearby dumpster but this was a sentimental thing. it was like a piece that needed to be preserved.

as you both stood in the middle of the large crowds, you two could hear people praising the painting for its raw emotion and style. one patron mentioned that it gave off a bit of a edgy feeling despite the cozy looking background.

choso was a bit surprised and delighted by the positive reactions, he felt a sense of pride in his portrait and the artist that created it—you. he turned to you with a smile on his face.

“i never thought my own portrait would have an impact like this.” choso said shifting his weight onto one leg. “see, now i kinda regret not letting you reveal my name.”

“you’re okay. it’ll make you a mystery man like the mona lisa…well she’s a real person but you get it, don’t you?” you chuckle lightly and choso does just that right along with you.

“i get it. but i’ll never be as known as she is. i’ll only be a mystery man that’s occasionally seen in shibuya.” he said. you threw your arm over choso’s shoulder and waved your hand dismissively.

“sure you will. one thing will lead to another. when you start seriously pursuing art and get your name out there, people will realize that you’re this man in the picture.” you pointed to the portrait, lightly tapping your nail against it as it created a hollow sound. you knew that you weren’t supposed to touch anything but you didn’t seem to care that much. you even went out your way to take a quick picture of it—it was surprisingly clear.

“they’ll call you signore kamo.” you added.

“you know italian?” choso raised a brow, a bit surprised by your pronunciation and how casually you said that word.

“nope, i googled it.” you smile innocently. choso released a breath as if he had been holding it for a while and returned a soft smile to you.

the art show ends and you and choso found yourselves walking close by each other on the sidewalk. the streetlights and neon lights from buildings illuminating your way as you walked back to the university. choso saw that you were on the left of him, closer to the street so he stoped to trade places with you.

“what was that for?” you ask as you put your hands down into your pocket. you had a feeling on exactly why choso did what he did but you just wanted to hear it from his mouth.

“well, just in case something happens, i’ll be hit first and you won’t have to worry about getting hurt.” choso stated, glancing at the street littered with parked cars. your instincts seemed to be correct but your lips involuntarily stretched into a smile anyway and you felt your face heat up a bit.

upon arriving back to the dorms, the two of you stood in the commons, your shadows stretching long in the dim light. since quiet hours were approaching, it was about time the two of you part ways once again until tomorrow. you turn to face each other, a mixture of contentment and longing in your eyes.

“i guess this is where we call it a day. thank you again for everything.” choso says and you nod.

“of course.” you beamed. “i had a really nice time with you today. and don’t forget that you don’t have to hide who you are around me. your true self is beautiful.”

“i’ll remember it.” choso replied before being caught off guard by your sudden hug. you flung your body into him and squeezed his sides a bit. his violet eyes widened as he contemplated on leaving you to cling onto him or hug you back. no one besides his brothers had ever given him a hug.

slowly and awkwardly his arms snaked around your body, finally returning a hug back to you. you both lingered there for a moment, holding on to each other before breaking away.

“hey, dinner on friday?” you ask.

“it’s a date.” choso replied, only making your smile grow. you both say your goodbyes and wave to each other before walking off in the opposite direction to head off to your rooms for the night.

but then another guy came along.

“hey, you got a second?” kashimo whispered. choso never interacted with the guy much but they’ve spoken enough to know how one another looked and each other’s names. sighing, choso obliged.

“i noticed the way you talked to that girl over there just a few seconds ago. you seriously scored.” the cyan haired male smirked at choso. “obviously, there’s something special between you two. maybe i could offer you some advice on that front?”

choso’s eyes narrowed, and as usual, his defensive walls go back up. he was never really comfortable with talking about his personal life, especially with someone he didn’t know all that well.

“i don’t need help with my love life, kashimo. i’m handling it perfectly fine.” choso crossed his arms. kashimo would put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“no pressure. i’m just saying that sometimes it’s easier to open up to someone who isn’t directly involved, you know? sit with me at lunch tomorrow. we can discuss this later.” the other lightly punches choso’s shoulder before heading out of the entrance doors.

“he’s weird.” choso muttered.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x black!reader #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #art #hajime kashimo #jjk kashimo

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sleepyghostuwu · 6 days

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The Artist and the Gem: Part 2

"...this'd better be a dream right now."

Synopsis: You start brainstorming about your mysterious client's request and begin working on it. Unfortunately, that means finding a way to get your unconventional art subject to cooperate with you, whether or not he knows about it.

Notes: Fem! Reader POV will be used in this series as it is what I'm most comfy writing in ^^ Also it's really lengthy lmao (I got too excited writing this) so get ready for lots of reading-

Previously: Part 1

It has been a good number of months since you've received the mysterious client's commission.

You've been finding yourself becoming increasingly productive in both your white collar and artistic jobs, presumably from wanting to rid yourself of as much work as you could to work on Aventurine's portrait. It has gotten to the point you even managed to send out most of your commissions to your other clients, even the impatient one who had been living on your nerves for what felt like an eternity. What made you want to get his portrait done and over with so badly? That was a question you were too afraid to find answers to.

Speaking of Aventurine, you had a problem: you know how he looks like very well, but you have no clue how to draw him that well. The fact that the both of you work in different departments and hence very rarely see each other made your task of observing his appearance better all the more difficult.

With all possible odds pitted against you, only two solutions remain: you could either spy on Aventurine during your lunch and tea breaks and sketch him in secret, or directly ask him to pose for you for a few minutes. Given your current ranking in the IPC, you have a slightly better chance at the former. As the clock strikes at lunchtime, you quickly grab your tablet and head for the first place you can think of: the lounge.

-------

"...Don't worry, I'll be sure to send you the updates as soon as I get them," Aventurine's carefree voice echoes like a chime as he and the other Stonehearts leave the meeting room for their break. Your breath hitches and you quickly crouch behind the nearest potted plant you spotted in the vicinity, peeking through its leaves cautiously.

"This is the worst idea I've ever thought of..." you curse under your breath as you stabilised yourself against the wall. You have passed by Aventurine during work before on several occasions, and rarely ever get to briefly speak to him about work-related matters, so seeing the man himself with your eyes was not something unfamiliar to you. However, what left you the slightest bit horrified was the next thought that entered your mind.

Aventurine is stunningly handsome.

His sandy hair, which was slightly tucked behind his left ear, flowed down his neck like sand in an hourglass, and his eyes were as vibrant as stained glass windows in the sun. The deep green and gold coattails trailing behind him reminded you of a brightly coloured bird as he strode across the hallway, always seeming like he had people to show off to in every corner.

(Y/n)! Focus! You frantically shake your thoughts out of your hand and ready your tablet. It's your only chance at this, so don't mess this up! Propping yourself against the wall as you continue crouching behind the potted plant, you whip out your stylus and begin drawing furiously.

The first few attempts you made were a little sloppy (by your standards, at least), but in a short while, you manage to fill the better half of your drawing spread with surprisingly good sketches. The fact that Aventurine was perfectly still as you drew each pose made your success feel too good to be true. As you watch Aventurine leave the vicinity with a few cups of coffee in hand, you heave a sigh of relief and stood up, propping yourself against the wall as you wait for your legs to recover from crouching on the ground for so long.

And it's still lunch hour, too! You smile to yourself as you turn to leave for the office cafe. Everything went according to plan. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong after this-

"Oh, (y/n)? I didn't expect to see you here."

A chill runs down your spine as you slowly come face-to-face with none other than Aventurine himself.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

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rafferty3207 · 9 months

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omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous.

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.)

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text.

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-” At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?”

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting.

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down.

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset, I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off.

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint.

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes. You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery.

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs.

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering. You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile.

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands.

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online.

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again.

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #fanfic #romance #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

{15} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Hongjoong)

Words: 8,068

Warnings: Insecurities, violent thoughts/comments, uncertainty. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I totally didn’t expect this scene with Hongjoong to be as long as it was, but you know what, he deserves it. I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you’ll all enjoy reading it. Also, smut next chapter hehehe (probably). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Mini Masterlist

“I thought I would find you here,” the gentle hum of a voice draws your attention to the open doorway of the garden, where you can see Hongjoong slowly beginning to make his way over to you.

Currently, you sit comfortably on one of the benches off to the left of the fountain, watching the water gently trickle and ripple out as the scent of all of your favourite flowers surrounds you. It’s been exactly three days since that night you’ve shared with Mingi, and you just really needed some fresh air. Not that you’re in a horrible mood, or anything, you’ve just had too much time to think.

One habit of yours that you’ve never been able to break is overthinking things. Sure, it may not be as bad now as it was at the start of this whole fiasco, but still, sometimes you cannot help but get caught up in your own head.

It also just seems to be one of those days. A day of which you just feel more down on yourself than usual. Luckily, it hasn’t happened for a little while, but still, it occurs more than you’d like to admit.

“May I sit with you?” He stands a mere two feet away from the bench, hands clasped behind his back as a soft look rests on his features.

A nod of your head is all the confirmation he receives.

Keeping his movements light, Hongjoong slowly takes a seat on the opposite side of the bench that you’re sitting on. His hands rest in his lap as he folds them over one another, extending his legs out in front of him so that his ankles are crossed.

A minute passes in silence. Then another, and another, with you still staring intently at that fountain. That is, until Hongjoong’s gentle voice calling out to you manages to pull you out of your thoughts once more.

“What seems to be on your mind, My Love?”

A long sigh escapes your nose as you exhale, chest deflating with your breath as your thumbs begin to run over each other slowly. You notice you have his complete and utter attention as he turns slightly to face you, the concern clear in his eyes.

“I just-“ you let out another sigh, seemingly searching for the right words. Your lips part, before closing again, until you finally settle on what it is that you want to say. “I am overwhelmed.”

Immediately, he’s sitting upright, worry clear on his features as he reaches out for you. Only, he stops himself halfway, unsure of whether or not you would want his touch comforting you, or even if you would let him.

“Have we done something to upset you?” The question is posed in a concerned tone, Hongjoong needing to know what’s wrong, and how he can fix it as soon as possible.

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Please, do not misunderstand. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.”

Slowly, carefully, Hongjoong reaches over to place a caring hand on top of your own, which haven’t seemed to stop nervously toying with each other since before he arrived. You freeze slightly, but do not shy away from his touch as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

“Then, what could be bothering you so greatly, My Love?” His voice is soft, the thumb of his one hand tracing over the skin of your own.

Once more, you avert your gaze to your lap, staring intently at his hand resting over your own. At the way he seems to halt his movement of his thumb over the skin of the back of your hand, you can tell that he’s probably about to pull away from you. Only, you seem to surprise both him, and yourself, as you turn your hand to place your palm directly against his own, fingers intertwining as you practically cling onto him for support.

Then, as if confessing to the greatest sin of your life, you speak, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I really deserve all of this?” Your eyes briefly glance up at the garden around you, before turning to meet his gaze. Hongjoong feels as if you are boring a hole right through his very soul at the intensity he can see shining behind them. “Do I really deserve all of you?”

There’s a hint of fear in your voice, a sort of sadness that he does not quite understand for the moment. That is, until the flash of your shared memory from the other week paints his mind.

He smiles sorrowfully, eyes drooping slightly as he feels that all too familiar painful tug on his heart.

“Of course you do, My Love.” He replies, voice a mere whisper on his lips. “Why would you ever think that you are unworthy of all of this? Of all of our love?”

“You’ve all done so much for me, and I’ve done nothing to earn it.” The admission has shame washing over you, your shoulders slumping as you curl forwards and in on yourself. “I’m still only human. I don’t understand what literal gods would want with me.”

“You exist.” Comes his blunt response, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At the way Hongjoong can see your brow furrow in confusion, he lets out a small chuckle before continuing.

“My Love, you make us feel things that we have not felt in centuries. You make us feel alive.” He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Every day, we fall a little bit harder for you with each and every new discovery you present to us. At least, I know I do. There is nothing about you that does not sing to my very soul in some way. Your intelligence is unrivalled; your dignity, your charm, your kindness. The way you care for those which you hold dear and cherish most, portrays a thoughtfulness that we have always held in high regard for each other throughout our lives.”

“You evoke emotions in us that we have not felt in millennia, nor experienced before in all of our long years of living.” He continues, staring deeply into your eyes as he notices tears begin to gather in your own. His heart pangs for a completely different reason now. “Your passions rival our own; your integrity, your determination, and your wit. We are more alike than you realize, which could not make you a better fit for us, nor make us desire you more than we already do. You are perfect in every way: mind, body, and soul.”

Hongjoong shifts the slightest bit closer to you as a soft smile graces his features. In the next moment, he gives your hand another gentle squeeze, reassuring you through both his actions, and his words how honest he is being with you right now. How sincere.

Though, it’s his next admission that truly knocks the wind right out of you.

“It is us that do not deserve you.”

“Hongjoong,” the whisper of his name on your lips is synonymous with the first tear that spills down the side of your cheek.

“You have showed us a kindness - a benevolence - that we did not deserve. You chose to trust us, despite everything we - despite everything I - have done. You have shared parts of yourself with us that we have only ever dreamed of being revealed to us, much sooner than we probably deserve.” He raises his free hand, turning even more into you so he can cup the side of your face tenderly in his palm. “There is no greater gift, no higher honour that you could give to us, than allowing us the opportunity to enter your heart in the same ways you have entered ours. Please, never forget that.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as you lean into his touch, feeling his thumb beginning to brush over the skin of your cheek as he caresses you tenderly. Another tear falls, and he’s quick to brush it away.

“Please, do not cry, My Love,” his voice is gentle as he holds you in his embrace like this. His heart squeezes painfully at knowing that you’ve been sitting here, alone, feeling like this for who knows how long, trapped in your own thoughts. “Do not ever doubt for one second that you do not deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more. We would not hesitate to give you entire galaxies if that is what you so desire. You need simply only ask for something, and we will do everything in our power to grant your every wish. You are our entire world. Our light. Our life. We- I hope you never doubt that again.”

You take a deep, albeit shaky breath in as a moment of stillness passes between the both of you. Your eyes remain closed as you revel in his touch, your whole body feeling as if it’s humming with life as he holds your cheek in the palm of his hand. Then, slowly, you begin to nod softly.

“Thank you,” your voice is but a whisper as you breathe out, eyes blinking open to meet his own. “Thank you, Hongjoong, I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course, My Love,” he smiles tenderly at you, giving your cheek a final brush with his thumb before slowly pulling his hand away. “I am just glad I could offer you comfort during this time. I care about you more than you’ll ever know.”

Wiping at the rest of your lingering tears with the back of your free hand, you notice his one arm now stretched along the back of the bench. Shifting slightly, you lean into him, much to Hongjoong’s pleasant surprise. You give his hand still held in yours a small squeeze.

“Will you sit with me for a while longer?” An offer extended to him which makes his heart leap into his throat for all of the right reasons.

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, shifting slightly closer into you and noticing how your lips quirk the slightest bit upwards as he does so.

Oh, so badly does Hongjoong want to roar in happiness. How long has he dreamt of moments like this, shared with you while you rest in each other’s embrace? Finally, it seems as if his dreams are all coming true.

A few minutes of silence wash over the both of you, but this time, they are not filled with the same heaviness as before. The only sound that fills the space is the trickling of water from the fountain. A soft breeze brushes past.

Hongjoong smiles, fully relaxing into this moment with you. He absolutely adores how you have yet to release his hand, nor move away from his touch yet. If he’s being honest with himself, he could spend hours sitting like this with you. That is, if you let him. The cherry on top is the smile he notices that begins to paint your features as he makes another slight breeze drift by, the scent from the flowers filling your lungs with every breath you take.

Still, he cannot help the way worry tugs at the back of his mind at the mood he walked in on you in.

“My Love?” His voice pulls you back to reality as you hum in acknowledgement. “I do not wish to pry, and you do not have to answer me if you aren’t ready. However, I am simply wondering why you felt unworthy of all of this just now.”

You purse your lips slightly in thought, contemplating how best to respond. Taking a calming breath in, you begin to speak.

“I have gone through my whole life with people always expecting something from me. Whether it was in return for something they did, performance wise, or other, people were never just content with the parts I was willing to give. They always had to take something in return. It’s so engrained in me to always give more than I want to, or have to now, and to not receive anything back, that it just feels weird when someone else does things for me without expectations.” You explain, your eyes falling to your lap once more. “So, when that does happen, I feel like I’m cheating others. It’s the whole, ‘I’ve done nothing to deserve what I’m being given, so why are they giving it to me?’ mentality.”

“I’m scared, Hongjoong." You admit, sparing a glance up into his eyes and noticing how his breath catches in his throat when you do so. “You have all done so much for me, and I just feel like I haven’t done anything in return. What if I’m not who you think I am? What if, when I finally give myself to all of you, I am no longer what you want? What will happen when you all grow tired of me, and I’m of no more importance to you that a spec of dirt? Will you no longer want me when I do give you what you finally want?”

You take another shaky breath in, clinging onto his hand for dear life as a fear unlike anything he’s seen from you before swirls within your eyes.

“I’m scared, Hongjoong,” you repeat, voice much more hushed than it was a moment ago, as if confessing to your own thoughts is the biggest crime you could ever commit. “I’m scared because I-“ you swallow, “I really like living with you guys. It’s like I said before, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life, and that’s all because of you. I love how none of you expect more from me than what I’m willing to give, and you have never expected more of me than that. I appreciate every minuscule detail you each put into our home, and that you literally went above and beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

“I care about you all in my own ways, and I just-“ you let out a sigh, staring at your intertwined hands as you brush your own thumb over the skin on the back of his own. “I don’t ever want to lose this. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Hongjoong has to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat, tears now springing to his own eyes as a warmth unlike any other spreads through his chest at your final confession. Though, he still worries about your own fears. Fears of which are untrue, and have no reason to be consuming your every thought. Only, before any words of reassurance can escape him, you are continuing.

“I know,” you chuckle dryly, “it’s incredibly selfish of me, isn’t it? To not want to give up anything. I just-“ you sigh once more, “I can’t help it. For the first time in my life, I finally know what it feels like to be someone’s first choice. For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to have someone be in love with me, and actually mean it. Which is why your words earlier are everything to me. You all make me feel so incredibly special, that I never want it to stop.”

“And it never will,” he assures you, meeting your gaze once more as he stares deeply into your eyes. “My Love, we will never not want you. You are so ingrained in our very souls, that to leave you would be like leaving a part of ourselves behind. We- I am so deeply in love with you, that I would never stop trying to make you fall for me in the same ways that I’ve fallen for you. Were you no longer in my life, I do not know if I would be able to go on. I do not know if any of us would. You are everything to us - to me, that we- I will never stop wanting to give you everything that you’ve always deserved, and so much more.”

You smile faintly, bringing your free hand up to caress the side of his face with your palm, noticing how he leans into your touch almost immediately. His eyelids flutter closed as he once again revels in this very moment here with you.

“Hongjoong,” his name is but a whisper on your lips, and you can just tell that he can hear how your heart thunders away in your chest. “I believe you.”

He mirrors your smile, eyes remaining shut as he rests in the palm of your hand.

“Good,” he squeezes your hand still held tightly in his own. “I’m glad.”

“Your words have reassured me more than you know,” you breathe. “I really didn’t know how badly I needed to hear them until now. Though, your actions tend to speak for themselves.”

You finish with a small chuckle, and when Hongjoong opens his eyes, he notices your gaze trailing around the garden once more.

“It’s like I’ve said, My Love,” he turns his head to place a soft kiss onto the palm of your hand, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks into you, eyes still locked onto your own, “you deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more.”

Your lips part as if you want to say something more, but you stop yourself, brow furrowing slightly in worry. As if what you have to say is a worse admission than everything that has come before.

Hongjoong blinks, eyes searching your face incase anything about your expression gives way to what you’re thinking right now. At the way his breath hitches slightly, he thinks he’s beginning to understand.

“My Love, you are enough.” At the way he feels your whole body still before him, he knows his words have struck true. “You are always more than enough for us. All we have ever wanted, all we have ever desired, is you. Your happiness, your affection, your love. That is all we ask: simply be you.”

“But I haven’t-“

“You don’t need to do anything to deserve our love and affection,” Hongjoong cuts you off, noticing much to his discontent how your hand falls from his face and back to your lap for the moment. “We are in love with you, not anything you could possibly provide for us. Actions and words are simply extensions of who we are; you do not need to provide more than you’re willing to give. Just let us take care of you.”

“I-“ you blink, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. Your head begins to throb. “There are parts of me that none of you know about yet, and I just cannot help but fear that once you do know, you will never look at me the same way again.”

“We are more alike than you think,” Hongjoong observes, shifting his attention back to the fountain in front of you. “Not a day goes by where I do not think of everything that I’ve done that could scare you away again in the blink of an eye, if you knew of the various sins that I have committed.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m invalidating your own feelings.” You mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you look down at your lap yet again.

“Do not worry, My Love, I never thought that for one second.” He gives your hand still held in his another reassuring squeeze. “What I’m trying to say is this: it’s normal to have these sorts of fears. Yet, that’s love, is it not? Revealing yourself fully; stripping yourself bare to the one that holds your heart in the palm of their hands and giving them the power to either cradle it gently, or tear it apart in the blink of an eye.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you chuckle slightly, lips quirking in the corner. “Though, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a love like this before.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He leans in slightly, head gently resting against your own as he draws you in closer.

You hum, shifting your gaze slightly to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes.

“Neither have I,” his confession is a mere whisper against the skin of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “In all of my long years of life, I have never referred to anyone as I do you.”

“You mean you’ve never…?” You trail off, and Hongjoong gladly fills in the rest for you.

“Called anyone ‘My Love’ before?” He chuckles at the way you pull away slightly to gaze at him with wide eyes. “No, I have not.”

You blink, that familiar tug of curiosity shining within your eyes. “Why?”

“Because I have never found anyone worthy enough to call them as such.” He replies, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “I have never felt so strongly about anyone as I do you. All the other times I have experienced love in my life feel like child’s play compared to this. You have shown me what being in love truly feels like, and means. I have finally found a piece of me that I did not realize I had been longing for all these long years.”

“Hongjoong,” your heart positively flutters at his confession, fingers tightening around his own as your opposite hand comes to rest on top of your intertwined ones.

“Do you think we’d call just anyone Our Queen?” He chuckles, nudging your knee with his own affectionately.

“No,” you smile softly, “I suppose not.”

“So, please, My Love, do not let these thoughts consume you any longer.” He meets your gaze once more. “Whenever you need me, whenever you need us, we will be right there to help calm you down, and assure you that they have no truth to them. Ever. You are everything to us. You, and you alone.”

For a moment, a silence settles around the both of you as you let his words sink in. The corners of your lips tug upwards faintly as you reach out to him once more, the palm of your hand caressing the side of his face. In the next moment, you’re leaning in, placing a tender kiss onto the skin of his opposite cheek.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” you pull away, noticing how the tips of his ears begin to turn bright red as you lean into him, resting your head upon his shoulder. “You have eased the worry in both my heart, and my mind, more than you will ever know. I appreciate everything that you do for me, and have done for me. I appreciate you.”

“I will always be here for you, My Love,” his chest rumbles in content as he wraps his arm fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer into himself for the moment. “In anyway that I can.”

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” your heart warms as you allow your eyes to flutter closed, revelling in such a tender moment shared with him. “I don’t know why my thoughts got the better of me today.”

“We all have off days,” he comments with a hum, thumb back to brushing over the skin on the back of your hand.

You nod once more, continuing to rest your head against his shoulder for the time being. Again, Hongjoong creates a gentle breeze which flits through the garden, caressing both you and him as the scents of the flowers surround you both.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice pulls him back into this moment here in time.

“Yes, My Love?”

“May I ask you something?” You seem somewhat nervous despite the curiosity lingering in your tone.

“Of course, My Love,” comes his immediate response. “Ask me anything you desire, and I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

You smile faintly as you curl in closer to his side. A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.

“You do not have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was wondering,” you take a deep breath in, “can you tell me more about your relationship with Miyeon?”

Even though it’s slight, you can still feel the way his whole body tenses beneath you, clearly caught off guard by your question. That is, until he’s relaxing once more.

“What would you like to know?”

“You said you didn’t love her, yet you are one of the four counted in a relationship with her. Why?” You tilt your head slightly upwards to look at him, all the while continuing to rest against his shoulder.

“There are many different types of relationships other than just romantic, My Love,” he begins. “Sure, it may not have been your typical one, but we were still in agreement with one another. There’s just one thing I need you to understand: we both used each other for our own gains, and nothing more. She used me to get herself off, just as I-“ he sighs, voice lowering slightly in what you believe to be shame, “I used her. There was no love involved. At least, on my end.”

“She started to fall for you?” You ask, tone soft as you continue to gaze up at him.

“To this day I still do not know if she actually did, or if it was all apart of her game of trying to lure us all into her trap,” he sighs, leaning further back into the bench. “Though, I was never willing to give her more than I did. I didn’t want her love, and I felt as if she didn’t deserve mine. What she did to Yunho only confirmed it.”

“There’s a few pointed things I would like to do to her for what she did to him,” a frown pulls at your features as clear venom coats your words. “To what she did to all of you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong quirks his brow, curiosity shining in his gaze as his heart begins to pound beneath his chest. “Care to share, My Love?”

Your eyes briefly meet his own before drifting to stare intently at the fountain in front of you. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing your one leg over the other as you pull his hand further into your lap.

“I think tearing out her heart after cracking open her ribs one by one for easier access is a good start,” you reply, seemingly nonchalantly with a shrug.

The growl that escapes him is nothing short of pleased as a shiver runs down his spine.

“My Love,” he practically moans out the name, “you can’t just say something like that and not realize the effect you’ll have on me.”

You shrug once more, “you asked.”

“See, yet another reason I fall deeper in love with you each day,” he chuckles, and at the way your brow quirks at him, he smirks, leaning in closer to you as his voice drops to a mere whisper, “you’re always full of pleasant surprises, My Love.”

You giggle, and Hongjoong swears that it’s the most melodic sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“More violent than you were expecting?” You joke, another giggle escaping your lips.

“Unbelievably so,” he sighs, dreamily.

“You’d be surprised by the types of thoughts I can have,” you reply. “Or perhaps you all just bring out the best in me.”

“Not the worst?” This time, it’s his turn to quirk a brow at your choice in words.

“I think after being so passive for so long in my life I can have a little violence,” you hum. “As a treat.”

Hongjoong laughs, squeezing your hand in his as he feels your shoulders shaking along with his.

“You can have as much violence as you desire, My Love,” he grins, his eyes tinting with that all too familiar darkness as a happiness unlike anything he’s ever felt before swirls within. “I look forward to discovering all of your more violent thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. Always.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to wait much longer to find out,” you smirk, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Another pleased growl escapes him, and you feel him pull you closer into him, causing you to sit upright once more as he turns his head to look at you.

“That’s a very dangerous admission, My Love,” his voice is low as his eyes flick down to your lips, tongue darting out to wet his own in the next second. “Are you sure you want to tempt me like this?”

You lean into him then, free hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in his locks as you do so, and you do not fail to notice the pleased rumble that echoes throughout his chest and reverberates through your own.

“What am I, if not tempting?” You grin, a seductive pull of your lips as your grip tightens in his hair.

“You are the greatest temptation I have ever known,” his admission is but a whisper against your own lips as he leans in that much closer to you, yet never so far as to make you uncomfortable.

“Then, how sweet it will be when I finally let you indulge,” the smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, voice low as your own gaze darts down to his lips for the briefest of moments.

However, before Hongjoong can even so much as pose the question that he has always wanted to ask you, you’re pulling away. A knowing look graces your features in a smug pull of your lips upwards as you turn to face the fountain once more. Your hand releases its grip on his hair to reach across and pat at his knee.

“All in due time, Joong,” you hum. “All in due time.”

Despite the feeling swirling in his chest at not being able to kiss you quite yet, there is a glimmer of hope shining behind his eyes. Already, you have allowed him to hold you like this for much longer than he could have ever imagined, your hand still being firmly held in his own. Plus, your words serve as a promise to him of what is still yet to come. A fact of which could not make him any happier than he is in this moment here in time with you.

“May I be honest with you?” Your voice pulls him out of his own thoughts of leaning in to place a tender kiss onto your cheek.

“I would love nothing more, My Love,” comes his gentle reply.

“When you first told me about Miyeon, and how you never cared for her, I was worried,” you sigh, diverting your gaze to the ground as the words fall from your lips. “I feared that you were playing me for a fool, and only making me believe that you were in love with me for some ulterior motive.”

“My Love, I would never-“

“Please, Hongjoong,” you cut him off as you look back up to meet his gaze once more. Nothing but a soft fondness shines there, and it eases a tension from his shoulders that he hasn’t realized he’s been holding onto this entire time. “Let me finish.”

He nods his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what that might be. You had already assured me you weren’t after my soul, and you vowed that you would never force yourself on me.” You tilt your head slightly as if contemplating your previous thoughts once more now. “You have never done anything which would warrant my immediate discomfort, and you went out of your way to make me feel comfortable. Anything and everything I could ever want or need, you provided, even if I was being stubborn or I didn’t deserve it.”

You can see him about to protest yet again, but you shush him by placing a finger of your free hand against his lips.

“Your actions alone spoke for themselves,” you continue, and you watch him blink once at you. You lower your hand. “No one in their right mind would bother to put on such a dedicated act for so long. I can always feel the sincerity of your words every time you speak to me, and this past hour alone with you has just confirmed what I’ve already known. Please believe me when I say that I believe you. To me, you do not seem like the type to lead someone on, nor take more than what you yourself are willing to give. I think that’s one of the things I appreciate most about you. Your integrity has never made me doubt your intentions for one second.”

“My Love,” his eyes shine with that all too familiar fondness you are so used to seeing from him.

“I can tell just from the way you look at me that you have never been dishonest with your emotions,” once more, your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, thumb gently stroking the skin right below his one eye. “You cannot fake that.”

“Never,” he breathes, gaze locked onto your own as his eyes search for any signs of hesitance or discomfort from you. He finds none. “Not to you. Never you.”

“You have spent every day since I got here proving your love for me, and I will never forget that,” you say, voice a mere whisper on the wind as you look at him with such tenderness in your eyes, that he cannot help the way his breath hitches in his throat. “I may not be able to say the words you long to hear from me quite yet, but I can tell you this,” Hongjoong holds his breath as you meet his gaze, “I am starting to fall for you, Hongjoong, and it most certainly is not a bad thing.”

It’s as if his entire world has stopped, a warmth flooding his veins as this moment here in time washes over the both of you. Your words have him recalling the very last thing you said to him when you both were previously in the garden together, and he cannot help the way tears begin to spring to his eyes once more. You have just made him so incredibly happy, that Hongjoong feels as if he could let out a roar that would shake the very foundations of the earth. This shared moment with you is so intimate to him, reassuring him in the best of ways, and giving him such hope, that he wants to revel in this feeling forever.

Hongjoong doesn’t even realized he’s moved to caress the back of your neck until his eyes are refocusing on the scene before him. The way he can see you staring at him, eyes full of affection as a soft smile paints your features, sets his heart racing inside his chest. That all too familiar warmth blossoms within him, spreading outwards until he can feel the tips of his very fingers tingling at your slightest touch.

His eyes glance down at your lips.

“My Love,” his voice is rough, raw from the pure emotions running through his very being as this moment washes over him and settles deep within the core of his soul. “Thank you-“ his breath hitches once more in his throat as he pulls your intertwined hands to his chest so you can feel how his heart is pounding inside his chest. For you, and you alone. “There are not enough words in all of the tongues of this universe to describe to you what this means to me, what you mean to me.”

“You don’t have to,” you squeeze his hand, the fingers you have cradling his cheek pressing against him the slightest bit more. “I understand, Hongjoong. You have made me believe.”

“My Love,” his words are strained, throat tightening as his emotions consume his very soul. He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he glances down at your own, heartbeat ringing in his ears. “Can I-“ he breathes, voice low as he leans in that much closer to you. “May I-“

Hongjoong struggles to get the words out, partially due to the emotions swirling inside of him this very instant, but also due to the fear of you possibly pulling away from him if he’s pushing things too fast. He doesn’t want to scare you away again.

“Do you want to kiss me, Captain?” There’s a hint of a teasing lilt to your voice as the corner of your lips quirk upwards.

“Yes, please,” he practically moans out, a shudder running throughout his entire body at the significance behind this moment. Not to mention your very words, of which have him tingling with a desperation for you unlike ever before. “More than anything.”

“Then, kiss me, My King,”

His lips are on yours before you even finish getting the words out, and you can feel the way his pleased growl reverberates against your skin as he pulls you in closer. His grip is desperate as his hand supports the back of your neck, cradling you to him gently as he holds you carefully in his grip. Everything that he is, everything that he feels, he pours into this kiss, loving the way he can hear your breath hitch as he deepens it.

His whole body begins to tingle. Hongjoong can feel the heat from your hand on his cheek, as well as the way your grip tightens around his own as he holds your intertwined hands against his chest. His heart is beating erratically as he feels your fingers move to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer into you as you let out the sweetest of whimpers into his mouth. A sound which he greedily swallows, wanting to hear even more, and all just for him.

This is everything he could have ever wanted, and so much more as he feels his chest rumble with another pleased growl. He knows his eyes have long since bled black beneath his lids as he holds you to him, revelling in this moment for as long as he can. The way your lips feel pressed against his own, tongue languidly stroking against his, has a heat unlike anything he’s ever felt before flooding his entire being.

All too soon, you’re pulling away from him. Only, now, Hongjoong craves more. Taking this opportunity, he places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, moving to trail his lips down your jawline before beginning to nip at the skin of your neck. The way you seem to tilt your head back the slightest to give him easier access has another pleased rumble building in his chest.

More. More. Hongjoong wants more. He craves it. That all too familiar beast begins to snarl within him, begging him to claim you like he’s long since desired, to make you his in every possible way that he knows how. At the way you hum as he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, he finds it even harder to control himself at this very moment in time.

The feeling of your fingers gently tugging at the hair on the back of his neck pulls his attention away from you just long enough for you to part his lips from your skin. A giggle escapes you as he meets your gaze, eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve become so used to from him as a soft pout tugs at his lips.

“How about we save that for later, yeah?” You chuckle, a grin painting your features as you watch his eyes shine.

“As you wish, My Queen,” he hums, words but a growl on his lips.

Slowly, your hand moves back to cradling his face in your palm, thumb gently stroking along his cheek as he leans into your touch once more. Hongjoong’s own hand releases his hold on the back of your neck in order to rest along the top of the bench once more, fingers dancing lightly along the skin of your shoulders. His eyelids flutter closed.

“I love you,” he breathes, turning his head once more to place a kiss onto the skin of your open palm.

You smile as his eyes flutter open to meet your own, “I believe you.”

Another comfortable silence settles around the both of you as you bask in each other’s presence. You shift yourself so that you’re leaning against his side yet again, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you rest your head on his. Nothing could make you both happier than you are right now.

For an hour, the two of you sit like this, chatting idly while keeping your voices low. Neither of you want to disturb the moment you have created here together, perfectly content to stay wrapped up in each other’s embrace like this for as long as the other will allow.

You don’t quite remember when he started, but Hongjoong has begun to play with your fingers, threading them through his own and tracing patterns into the skin on the back of your hand. It’s quite calming, and you can feel tingles shooting up your arms wherever he touches. A pleasant, albeit new sensation to you. One which you could very much get used to without a second thought.

“We have another council meeting coming up in a few days,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “Are you going to be okay on your own again, given everything going on?”

“More than okay,” you smile, turning your head to place a gentle kiss onto his jawline. “Thank you for asking.”

“Nothing can get passed our wards, regardless,” he assures you.

“I believe you,” you chuckle, settling deeper into his side. “Though, I’m curious what this one will be about.”

“Probably more complaints about issues that could solve themselves,” he mirrors your chuckle, an overdramatic sigh escaping him in the next moment. “You’d be surprised at how many of our subjects cannot make their own decisions.”

“Sounds like every other person I know,” you join in on the teasing. “Though I can’t imagine the shit you all have to deal with.”

“It does get repetitive at times,” he admits. “Though, I think the worst is when certain demons ask if they can plant crops on their own lands.”

You blank as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” he sighs, an exasperated chuckle escaping him in the next second. “Though, with how the last meeting went, I’m sure the clans have found the rest of the traitors, and just want us to condemn them.”

“Traitors?” You quirk a brow.

“The reason there was blood on the floor that one morning after we returned,” he replies, and he notices the way you nod slightly in response.

“Wait, you mean you guys didn’t kill them all?” Your brow furrows as you push yourself the slightest bit away to look up at him.

“We could have,” he shrugs, “but then we wouldn’t have any left to condemn and make an example out of when the time is right.”

“Fair enough,” you hum, resting your head back onto his shoulder. “As long as you’ve destroyed their leader, and haven’t made them into a martyr, the cause should be lost.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you can just tell he’s contemplating your words.

“You have destroyed their leader, haven’t you?” Your eyebrows raise considerably as you wait for his response.

“If I’m honest, My Love, we never even bothered to learn who it was,” he replies. “We wouldn’t be able to tell you if we killed them or not when we slaughtered the majority of them that one night.”

“Okay, well,” you tighten your grip on him slightly, “just be careful. I don’t want to see any of you get hurt. Especially not when we have Miyeon to deal with.” Then, as if realizing something, a worry takes over your features. “She won’t be there, will she?”

“No, no, of course not.” He’s quick to assure you. “Her clan knows what will happen to her and them if she so much as dares to show her face to us at a council again.”

“Ah,” relief washes over you, even if he can still sense that wisp of fear lingering in your grip, “I see.”

“Your concern for us all means more than you’ll ever know, My Love,” he hums, eyes shining affectionately as he looks over at you still resting against his shoulder.

“I care about you guys,” you repeat your words from earlier in the day, noticing how his throat bobs as he swallows his emotions for the time being. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise that we will all return to you safe and sound,” Hongjoong smiles softly, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to place a gentle kiss onto the back of yours.

“You better,” you grin teasingly. “Otherwise, I’ll gut you myself.”

A pleasant shiver races down his spine as his eyes shine. “Is that a promise, My Love?”

“Violent thoughts, remember?” You flick a brow at him, amusement shining in your eyes as you see him mirror your grin.

“But of course,” he leans in to rest his forehead against your own. “How could I ever forget such delightful fantasies of yours?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips is deadly, and Hongjoong can feel another shiver of pleasure racing down his spine.

“I look forward to the day you allow me to indulge in them with you,” his words are but a gentle caress against your skin, despite the darker undertones of such a lingering promise.

“All in due time, Joong,” you breathe. “All in due time.”

Another hour is spent together conversing softly between each other in the garden, and simply basking in one another’s presence. As soon as the sun begins to set, a calm washes over the both of you, though Hongjoong is a bit disappointed your time together has to end. Still, the fact that you allow him to walk you to your room, hand still held firmly in his own has a feeling unlike any other spreading throughout his entire body.

You do not invite him to stay with you, but you do place another lingering kiss to his cheek as you bid him a goodnight. You do seem slightly more tired than usual, so he doesn’t want to push you any further than you’ve already gone today. You’ve opened yourself up to him in ways he’s only ever dreamed about, and for that, he could not be more grateful, or fall any more in love with you than he already is.

Placing a gentle kiss onto the skin of your knuckles, Hongjoong slowly and reluctantly lets go of your hand. He watches as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening, sending him a final soft smile as you shut the door behind you.

Soon. He tells himself as he begins to make his way back down the hallway and to his own room for the evening. You’ll be falling asleep in his own arms soon.

Hongjoong simply cannot wait for that day to come, and he knows that once it does, it will be all the more sweeter. Today already went better than he could have ever hoped, and the fact that he was able to ease your worries like he did makes him so unbelievably happy. You admitted to him yourself that you’re already starting to fall for him. Now, all there’s left to do is wait, and Hongjoong is more than happy to do so. After all, once you fall, he will be there to catch you with open arms, that all too familiar loving smile on his face when you do.

The skin of his lips begins to tingle as he recalls the feeling of your own pressed against his.

Soon. You will be his soon. He’ll make sure of it, even it it’s the last thing he ever does.

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

Text

The art model

Nude model!reader x art student!Zoro.

Modern AU. My very first Zoro fic! This fic is dedicated to @star-yawnznn!

There is probably going to be a part two (and maybe even a part three!) to this...

*****

You had started having second thoughts on the very day you had asked Luffy to tell his teacher, Shanks, about you (or rather, you had allowed him to do so, after your friend had begged you for weeks), the anxiety mounting inside you progressively as the day of the first class drew near, and this morning, when a moment after waking up you looked at the calendar hanging from the wall and realized you were expected at the art school in just twelve hours, you felt the urge to scream loud enough for the whole building to hear.

How could you be so stupid to accept your friend's proposal? Yes, you were (and still are, barely two weeks later) in dire need of money, since you haven't been able to secure a scholarship or a loan to fund your education and your job at the bar doesn't pay enough. Yes, the classes are in the evenings and on Saturday morning, which is perfect because it allows you to attend your own lessons in the morning, spend your afternoons at the Partys', waiting tables and preparing drinks with your aunt Makino, and spend your Sundays in a coma, sleeping as much as you can to recuperate at the end of yet another hectic week. What's more, from what Luffy had told you the job is relatively easy, which certainly beat spending hours restocking shelves in a supermarket or cycling around to make deliveries for a restaurant.

Still... it is embarrassing. Absurd. A little ambiguous, also, even though you are confident Luffy would not drag you in something shady or of dubious morality; he has assured you the job is perfectly safe and even fun, but on the other had your friend's idea of amusement or security is different from that of most other people...

Even though you do need a job, part of you hoped Shanks would decide to hire someone else, given your complete lack of experience in the field, or that in the following weeks some problem would arose that forced him to look for another employee. He didn't, and (and for this you have to blame no one but yourself) since you didn't have the courage to disappoint both your friend and his teacher, you never called Shanks to tell him you had changed your mind.

Today is your first day of work as a nude model for the East Blue Art School, and you have no idea whatsoever what awaits you.

Luffy assured you that you didn't need to smarten yourself (you would be tempted to say to undress up) since what is required of a nude model is a natural look, but today, after returning home from your shift at the bar, you make sure to shave and wash your hair, and pay special attention to your make-up; the people you will pose for are students, not famous fashion photographer, but you want to look your best. You also spend a few minutes in front of your wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear, before realizing how utterly pointless the whole matter is, since you are going to pose in your birthday suit.

In the end, you decide you might as well choose something which you feel comfortable in; you have just put on your favourite shirt and a pair of new jeans when an energic, like everything he does and is, ringing of the door-bell heralds Luffy's arrival.

"(name)! Are you ready?" he asks, as enthusiastic as if he were going to escort you to the altar on your wedding day, rather than to a new workplace; as usual, he's wearing his beloved straw hat, a gift from Shanks himself on the first day of art school when he was seven, a bag with his drawing supplies hanging from his shoulder "I'm so happy you're going to pose for us! I can't wait to introduce you to the others!"

He doesn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed at the prospect of an old and dear friend, with whom he has always had a purely platonic relationship, getting naked in front of him, and having to carefully observe her body to reproduce it on paper. Well, all the better for you, you think as you invite him to come in while you finish getting ready; Luffy is one of your dearest friends and you'd hate for shame or embarrassment to cause a rift between you.

"Just a minute, I need to put my shoes on."

"Take your time, we still have half an hour before class starts. You have anything good from your mom?"

You have no talent whatsoever in the kitchen, let alone the time and energy required to prepare something good to share with your friends or to reward yourself at the end of a long day of study and work, but you have the fortune to be the daughter of a capable baker, and your mother often gifts you the fruit of her labour - what is left of it when the bakery closes, that is: brownies, cookies, bread rolls and other delicacies, that Luffy appreciates as much as you do.

You tell him your mom brought you some gingerbread last night, when she stopped by to wish you good luck for your new job, and Luffy quickly finds it in the pantry. "I'm sure you'll do great today." he says as he happily munches gingerbread as if it were the last day of his life. He once asked you if your mother could hire him part time at the bakery, but you gently pointed out that in that case the shop would have nothing left to sell, since he would have eaten everything.

"I hope so!" you comment as you join him in the kitchen, shoes donned and bag under your elbow "I don't want to disappoint you, or your teacher. I mean, everything I have to do is simply sit there, right?"

"I guess so. Just make sure not to fall asleep. Our previous model, Buggy, did it, one day he had to stay a bit longer than usual. He fell off a stool and broke his nose."

"Oh, poor guy..." you comment, snickering despite yourself "Anyway, I drank a double espresso ten minutes ago, so I should be fine."

You leave the apartment together, walking unhurriedly towards the art school, which is only ten minutes away, in a quiet neighbourhood. "I can't wait for you to meet the others!" Luffy exclaims, almost skipping along the sidewalk; besides you, your friend is particularly close to a small group of classmates, who together with him have studied at the East Blue since they were children "I'm sure you'll love them, and they you."

"I hope so." you murmur, suddenly tense once more; Luffy's company and natural cheerfulness have momentarily distracted you from the anxiety filling your body at the prospect of having to take your clothes off in front of a group of strangers, but now that very uneasiness has returned, in addition to the worry of not making a good impression on Luffy's dearest friends. Why didn't I accept that job with the cleaning agency? I'm allergic to dust, but apart from that, it would have been perfect....

Unfortunately it is too late to change your mind, and even to turn on your heels and return home, leaving Luffy and his class in trouble, because your destination is just a minute away: a spacious, well-kept building, in which students of all ages take courses in drawing, painting, sculpture and photography. Despite the hour there are many people about, pupils, including many old enough to be your parents, walking to their classes, discussing their projects, and carrying art supplies of all types; a joyous, exciting chatter fills the air, the sounds of a place full of energy, of teaching and learning, where knowledge is cultivated and freely shared. The East Blue Art Academy is a well-reputed institute, and any candidate has to pass a rigorous exam in order to be accepted to the courses; you have no idea why Luffy's teacher has decided to hire a first-time model, but your friend has assured you Shanks can't wait to meet you.

Crossing the large double door, you find yourself in a large hall with floor-to-ceiling windows from which, Luffy tells you, it is possible to reach all the four main departments, where classes take place from early morning to late evening; a separate wing is being built to host a music school, and in the back there is also a small botanical garden, where some classes also take place, since any artist worthy of the name must learn to observe and reproduce nature.

It wouldn't be polite to keep Shanks waiting, especially not on your first day, but you linger for a minute, contemplating the decorated ceiling of the hall, the fresco representing a white-sailed ship with a figurehead carved in the shape of a sheep, sailing through the waves.

"We made this, you know." your friend proudly announces "My friends and I."

"You are kidding!"

"I'm not. The hall was renovated two years ago, and students were invited to submit their projects, individually or in group. Me and four other from my class, you'll meet them soon, won, and the rest is history; the guys from the painting department helped, but the idea is ours."

"I can't believe it, it's lovely..."

The ship sailing under the clear blue sky is a really beautiful scene, it evokes a sensation of freedom and joy that even you, who can't draw or paint to save your life and has no interest whatsoever in the field, can't help appreciating. Who knows where the small but sturdy vessel is going, and what adventures it is carrying its crew towards...

You are so focused on admiring the fresco, full of admiration for the talent of Luffy and his friends, you don't notice a young man literally burst in the room from another corridor and then, as if his life depended on it, run in the same direction you and your friend had started towards. He crosses the room at full speed, unaware of Luffy who waves at him, but he notices you, as you take a step back to admire the frescoed ceiling from a better perspective... and find yourself on the man's trajectory, who doesn't have the time to stop or dodge you.

"Aaaaahhhh...!!!"

Fortunately you don't hit your head, but the man falls right on you, his knee pressing on your stomach, making it impossible for you to breath for a minute. You hear Luffy emit a cry of surprise, and then he hurries to help the man to his feet, lifting him off you. "(name), are you all right? Zoro?"

"I'm fine." you both answer at the same time; the man bends to pick up the sketchbook and pencils that fell from his bag, checking they haven't been damaged, while you cautiously massage the area above your belly-button, already sure than Luffy and his classmates will have to draw a large bruise.

"You haven't been taught not to run inside, especially if there are so many people around?" you asks, as soon as you catch your breath; normally you would simply forget it, annoyed but still willing to let the incident slide to avoid an argument, but that guy could have seriously hurt you, on the first day of your new job!, not to mention how stressed you have felt all day "This is a school, not a running track!"

He looks at you, as clearly annoyed as you feel. "Nothing would have happened if you hadn't gotten in the way." he argues; he is tall, attractive, with bright green hair, a bandana tied around his arm and not one, but three scabbards, clearly not empty, hanging from a sash at his waist, an unexpected sight that makes you momentarily forget your argument "I know that ceiling looks nice, but why don't you look where you're going?"

"I wasn't going anywhere, I was practically standing still...!"

"Guys... guys, come on! There's no need to fight." Luffy intervenes, stepping between you and the green-haired man as if fearing you would soon come to blows "You're both all right. (name), this is Zoro, he's in the same class as me; Zoro, (name) is a good friend of mine, she's our new model."

You sigh, recognizing Zoro's name as one of those Luffy has mentioned most frequently when telling you about his classmates; from what you have heard, they are very good friends. Also, since this guy is apparently a student in the class you are going to pose for, you don't want him to complain about you with Shanks. Consequently...

"I see. Well, sorry if I made you stumble; I didn't mean to." you apologize, making an affort to sound more remorseful than you actually are; you slowly offer an hand, ready to pull it back the moment you perceive your peace offer is going to be refused, but Zoro must have reached the same decision as you, because he takes your hand and shakes it firmly.

"It's no problem; I'm sorry if I hurt you. So, uhm, you've already posed before?"

"No, it's my first time." you admit "I hope I won't be a disappointment for you guys and for Shanks."

Zoro shrugs, as if minimizing your fears - not with the intent to insult you, though. "Ah, don't worry; if you can stay still for a while you'll be ok. If that idiot Buggy could do it, anyone can."

You find yourself smiling, your resentment towards your friend's friend already forgotten; after all, you don't need any more negativity in your life. "I hope you're right."

"Well!" Luffy intervenes, happy to see peace return between the two of you, as he rests one hand on your shoulder and the other on Zoro's "Why don't we go to class? (name) has to meet Shanks before we begin."

You and Zoro follow him along a corridor, as Luffy, who has an almost preternatural ability to make friends wherever he goes, exchange greetings and smiles with most of the people whose path he crosses. According to your watch, your first day as a model will begin in less than fifteen minutes; you are still nervous, but you find yourself glancing at Zoro, still beside you. Why on earth has he carried three swords to a drawing class? Since nor Luffy nor the other students seem alarmed by it, it must be an habit of his; perhaps they are to be the subject of a drawing? Are they props? Will Shanks ask you to hold them as you pose for Luffy and the others?

You could ask him; still, there is something you are even more curious about. "Where were you going in such a hurry?" you inquire "It is still early for your class."

"Well..." Zoro rubs the back of his head, as if embarrassed by what he is going to reveal "I was afraid I would be late to class. Again."

"Oh. You got struck in traffic? Or were late after work?"

"No, I... couldn't find my way to class."

"... you moved to the school recently?"

"... no. I've been studying here since I was eight."

You are left reflecting on those words (he had lost his way to the classroom? Inside the school? After maybe ten years?!) as you glance inside some of the rooms, their doors left ajar, in which other classes are taking place; in one, a group of children are painting a vase of flowers the teacher has placed on a stool (even though most of the paint seems to have ended up on their faces!) while in another two older men are arranging what looks like a set for a photo shooting, with a large camera sitting on a tripod, umbrellas for controlling and diffusing the light, and a red collapsible backdrop. Posing for pictures, this is something you have already done, you reflect, even though in less formal contexts, during a birthday party or on holiday; of course, during those moments you always wore clothes...

"Here we are!" Luffy announces in the end; he bows at the waist next to the door of the classroom, jokingly inviting you to go in first "Shanks, this is (name)!"

The only man present in the room, busy organizing a large quantity of pencils and other drawing tools on a desk, turns to greet you all with a smile. Shanks is a tall man in his late thirties, with bright red hair. He offers you his right hand to shake; he has no choice, since his left arm is missing.

"It is very nice to meet you, sir." you politely greet him; Luffy had never mentioned his beloved teacher was an amputee, but after all, one does not need two hands to draw, does he? "Thank you for this opportunity, I hope you'll be satisfied."

Shanks invites you to call him by his name, like his students do. "I should be the one thanking you; you have no idea how hard it is to find a model."

"(name) is a bit embarrassed she has to pose naked." Luffy interjects while he and Zoro place their bags next to two of the stools.

"That's not true!" you protest, not wanting Shanks to doubt your motivation, or willingness to do what you are asked "I mean, it is just... the first time I take my clothes off... for a situation like this, I mean..."

Zoro, busy retrieving a large sketchbook from his bag five steps from you, grunts. "You know, we're not going to jump your bones as soon as you take your panties off." he points out. His tone, more brusque than what you would have expected from a person who has known you for ten minutes, doesn't give the impression he wants to insult or ridicule you, but you resent it all the same; wouldn't he be embarrassed to present himself to a group of strangers completely naked?

Maybe not; after all he is very fit, strong arms and (Zoro is now bending to retrieve a pencil from his bag) a firm backside. Who knows, you reflect as you quickly avert your gaze, perhaps for some people showing off their body is actually pleasant...

"It is perfectly normal to feel a bit of awkwardness in taking off your clothes." Shanks assures you kindly "What you have to remember, though, is that there is nothing immoral, or inappropriate, in posing. This is a perfectly respectable occupation, and as long as you are here, you'll be perfectly safe, and believe me, these students are all old and experienced enough to see you like any other subject; in the end, there is not much difference between a nude model and a bowl of fruit, they are simply something to reproduce on paper. No one will focus on your weight or your... intimate parts, if this is what you are worried about."

It is indeed, and Shanks' words do reassure you. Luffy, already perched on his stool, winks at you.

The classroom is sparsely furnished, with a desk covered with paper and drawing utensils, a few painting easels in a corner and twelve stools placed in a semi-circle all around an higher one, that you guess will be your work station; many books of all sizes are lined up on the shelves on the wall facing the door. A folding screen creates a corner with a chair and a small wall-mounted sink in which you can leave your things, undress in complete privacy... and wash away your make-up, like Shanks has asked you to do.

The students arrive while you prepare behind the screen, their chatting filling the room as they find their places; in the end you come out the screen, barefoot and wearing the dressing-gown you have brought with you.

"Guys and girls, this is (name); she'll be our model from now on." Shanks introduces you, and all the students smile and wave while you reach your stool, look at your feet as you disrobe, and sit. Shanks helps you strike a pose, with your knees apart, an hand resting on your lap and the other raised, and your face in profile; and after that, all you have to do is to remain still, which is at the same time the easiest thing ever and more than a little uncomfortable, especially considering the class is supposed to last for a whole hour.

Fortunately, Shanks was right in saying you had no reason to feel ill at ease. The students are clearly used to a naked model, since you perceive no embarrassment nor, even worse, any special interest in your body, and they are simply focused on faithfully reproducing your form on their sketchbooks; a pink-haired student whose name you don't catch mentions you have remarkably symmetrical thighs, while his friend, with long blonde hair, asks Shanks' help in deciding whether he drew your breast smaller than he should have.

None of the students moves for the first thirty minutes, the silence in the room only broken by the soft noise of the pencils rushing on the paper; even the sounds of the city outside, traffic and people arguing and the barking of a dog, sound muffled to your ears. Shanks walks among them, offering praises and gentle corrections, and inviting them to pay attention to the shape of (name)'s calf, look at the curve of it...

Luffy sits surrounded by his dearest friends, like a captain with his crew: you've heard him talk about them so many times it is as if you had already met them. There are Sanji, Usopp and Nami, and Zoro, who given the direction Shanks has asked you to look towards is right in front of you, so that you find yourself looking directly at him - for a whole hour. He is really attractive, you decide, perhaps more than most other men you know; with his athletic physique, and the elegant features of his face, he could be an excellent model, not necessarily an art one...

It is right then, while you are busy idly observing the little you can see from his body and decide that yes, he must be either an athlete or a gym fanatic, because no one who sits on his ass all day can have shoulders like those, let alone such well-defined biceps, that suddenly Zoro, who has been so focused on his drawing he seems to have forgotten the rest of the world, suddenly and quickly lifts his gaze, his dark eyes boring into you. You start, for a moment sure he has perceived your vaguely inappropriate thoughts, and with a mounting sense of panic you feel yourself going red in the face, as it often happens when you are embarrassed. What has gotten into you?, you chide yourself; and you were embarrassed the others would look at you?!

"Is everything all right, (name)?" Shanks asks, making you jump again.

"Yes! I mean... I'm fine." you stutter; a few of the students glance at you from above their sketchbooks.

"Good. Can you please left your hand a little more?"

You comply, making an effort not to look directly at Zoro even though your face is turned exactly in his direction, silently apologizing to him.

After a while, Luffy lifts his hand. "Shanks, can I approach her?"

"All right; as usual, you have ten minutes. (name), Luffy will now approach you."

"'k." you answer, making an effort to speak without moving your lips, and to remain as still as a statue, even though your left arm has started hurting.

Your friend stands from his stool and comes to kneel in front of you, his sketchbook balanced on his thigh; the pretext is to observe your face up close, but Luffy takes the opportunity to meet your eyes and smile at you, before raising an eyebrow questioningly; all good?, he's silently asking you, perhaps feeling secretly responsible since he was the one who begged you to come pose for them. You make sure Shanks is busy helping another student, and wink at him. All good, don't worry.

Luffy, who knows you well enough he could easily draw your face from memory, remains at your feet for a few minutes, after which a few of the other students also ask Shanks permission to approach one by one. Zoro is the last, and he looks... disgruntled, brows furrowed as he observes you, intent as if he had to solve a complex mathematical equation; he looks down at his drawing, that you can't see, then back at you, and he grimaces, clearly unsatisfied. You force yourself not to squirm, unsure of the reason for his discontent but sure it is somehow your fault.

In the end, you are almost caught off-guard when Shanks announces only five minutes are left before the end of the class; you had completely lost track of time. The students hurry to polish their drawings while they have you there in front of them, even though they will have another hour to work on them, and after that you'll have to assume another pose for the next two classes.

"You were great!" Luffy exclaims in the end as he helps you stand from the stool, your legs stiff after the innatural position you kept them in for an hour; you smile, as usually amused and touched at the same time by your friend's enthusiasm, while the other students start gathering their things.

"Thank you, but after all it was you guys who did all the work; I just had to sit there and look... still." you point out as you retrieve your night gown and put it back on.

"Well, you did it very well. You want to see my drawing?"

You actually couldn't wait to, and most of the other students gladly let you see theirs as well. They are all very good, you decide as you examine the sketchbooks one by one, obviously different in style but all quite life-like; Nami's is probably the best, even though Luffy's is the one you like the most. You look at them, those portrait the young artists have drawn without masking the imperfections and the parts of your body you are embarrassed of, but striving to do justice to it all the same. You don't consider yourself a vain person, a self-centered one even less, but you wish you could hang all of them in your apartment and keep them close forever, because for some reason you feel as if each of those young men and women, most of which you don't even know, now are in possession of a small part of you...

Zoro is the sole who, seeing his classmates offer you their sketchbooks and ask for your opinion, is quick to shove his in his bag; your eyes meet, and he quickly looks away, as if he had something to hide. What a weird guy! Handsome... but weird.

"So, how did it go?" Shanks asks as the students say goodbye and unhurriedly line to leave; you smile at him, much more enthusiastic than an hour before.

"I must admit, I had fun; I'm sorry if you had to correct my position."

"That's all right, you are not a statue after all, and you did very well. So..." the teacher smiles, as if already knowing what you are going to answer "You want to do it again?"

You absolutely do, and Shanks shows you the schedule for his classes, both group ones and private; you'll be busy five evenings a week, for one or two hours at a time, which works just fine for you.

"Me and the guys are going to grab a drink in a place down the road." Luffy tells you "Wanna come?"

"Are you sure? I mean, if you'd rather be among you..."

Luffy looks at you strangely, as if he didn't understand the reasoning behind your indecision. "You are my friend, and now theirs as well." he points out "Why wouldn't we want you there?"

Reassured, you tell him that you'll be happy to come; the truth is you had a long day (your own classes in the morning, a long shift at the Party's in the afternoon, and now an hour of posing after which you feel more than a little sore) and are consequently pretty tired, but you feel well and want to know Luffy's school friends better. He tells you they'll wait for you outside, since Sanji needs a smoke, and you promise you'll make it quick.

Shanks leaves as well, needing to talk to another teacher, so that you are soon alone in the classroom, getting dressed and then retrieving your bag and nightgown. You are really in a good mood: your new job promises to be interesting and even fun, and who knows, perhaps you will even meet some new friends...

At least you think you are alone, but you stand corrected when, coming out from behind the screen, you find yourself face to face with a person, leaning against the wall close to the classroom's door, arms folded, clearly waiting... for you.

Zoro.

"Hi again." you say, a little uncertain; you doubt he waited to accompany you out... unless he is the one who needs to be guided, since apparently he gets lost easily "I'm sorry if I kept you guys waiting..."

Zoro shakes his head; his hand is now resting on the handle of one of his words, a casual gesture clearly dictated by habit. "I'm not coming tonight. I wish I could, but my... father is waiting for me."

"I see. So, uhm, you wanted to tell me something...?"

"Actually... I know we just met, but I have a favour to ask you."

Zoro bites his lip (something you have always found attractive in a man, which makes you smile for a moment), as if embarrassed of having to bother a person he barely knows... or perhaps of the favour itself.

"Go ahead."

"Well... I need you to pose for me."

Zoro tells you that figure drawing (that is, drawing the human form, either by observation of a live model or otherwise) has always been hard for him, much more than drawing a still life, buildings or any sort of scenes; he is usually at the same level of, or even better than, his classmates, but when he has to draw an human body, either that of a model or copying from a book or even simply relying on his imagination, he somehow suddenly forgets how to hold a pencil, not to mention everything he knows about proportions and perspective. He does his best, really, he practices and practices, he has a whole stack of sketchbooks filled from cover to cover with drawings, studies and portraits, but he is still unsatisfied - and behind what is expected from a person who has been an art student since he was six. Even kind, encouraging and less-strict-than-most-teachers Shanks had to admit his life drawings are of a much lower quality than the rest of his works.

What do you draw exactly, stick figures?, you are about to ask, and maybe you would if you were talking to Luffy or someone you know well. "I'm sorry to hear that; it must be very frustrating."

"It is; so I was wondering... well, if you'd be ok with posing for me, to practice." he goes on, shifting his weight from one leg to the other; asking another person for help, and consequently having to admit his shortcomings, seems almost physically painful for him "I do marginally better with a model, but two classes a week are not enough."

"Haven't you asked Luffy or one of the others?" you wonder, imagining that his friends would be happy to help, especially being artists themselves "Well, maybe not Luffy, he'd never be able to stay still for ten minutes, let alone a whole hour..."

"He really couldn't. And I tried, but I get distracted if I know the other person. I know you are busy with school and your other job, but would you be available? I would pay you, of course."

You tell him you could never accept money from one of Luffy's friends, especially not from a student like you. "I have yet to learn how to teleport or how to be in two places at the same time, but if we can find a moment we are both free, I'll be happy to help you."

"Are you sure?" Zoro asks; he seems taken aback, as if he expected you to refuse, or to have to beg you "You don't mind...?"

"I just discovered I actually like posing, and Luffy's friends are mine." you easily answer "Shall I come to your place? Do you live nearby?"

You quickly discover you live a couple of blocks away from each other, close enough you can easily walk from home, or from the Partys', to the house Zoro lives in with his adoptive father. You decide to meet on Sunday afternoon, which will allow you to sleep very late and still do something constructive during the day, especially if you bring a book or your notes with you to review as you pose.

Finally, Zoro smiles, relieved and happy; he has a lovely smile, you notice, as well as a lovely face, which makes you wonder if he ever tried drawing himself... "Thank you. (name), really... I owe you big time."

"One day maybe you can buy me a pizza or something." you easily answer, not meaning anything specific by it (namely, not a date) but simply thinking back at that time Luffy helped you move to your new flat and you bought him dinner to thank him (and almost went bankrupt) "Do you mind if we walk as we talk? I think Luffy and the others are waiting for me."

Zoro opens the door for you and then follows you towards the school's hall; despite the late hour, many classes are still in session. For you this is a job, something that as much as you enjoy it you need to pay for your bills and food, but these people, the students of all ages who spend their evenings here instead that at home or enjoying their free time after a day of school or work, choose to do it and pay for the courses themselves. They do it for passion, hoping to turn an hobby in a job, to improve their skills with the pencil (or the brush, or the camera...) or simply to spend time doing what they love, without concern for the future or retribution.

It is nice, you decide, feeling strangely wistful for a moment; who knows if you'll ever find something to be so passionate about...

"Luffy says you're studying to become an accountant." Zoro says after a while, as you walk next to him, your muscles still a bit sore after an hour of stillness.

"I do; there is absolutely nothing artistic about it." you laugh.

"But you like it?"

"Many people think it is the most boring and arid profession in the world, but I like it a lot, actually."

"There you go then." he considers in a tone of approval "Who cares about what other people think?"

You smile back, and that sudden, pleasant confidentiality pushes you to ask a question of your own. "If I may... what do you carry those around for?"

"You mean my swords?"

"Yes. I have seen some original fashion accessories, but a weapon, never."

Zoro grins, openly amused, as he gently grabs the hilt of one of the swords, pure white, in a protective gesture... or maybe to show you how ready he is to draw it on a moment's notice "I use them; I'm a swordsman, I have been training since I was five." he proudly explains.

"And you use three of them?!"

"Exactly. One in each hand, the third in my mouth."

You can barely imagine a scene like the one he is describing (seriously, how can he use a sword holding it like that? Does he have a prehensile tongue?) but Zoro is clearly serious, which fills you with admiration. "So you are an artist and a sportsman!" you exclaim; it is strange, but somehow fitting as well, to imagine a person's hands having the strength to handle a weapon, and at the same time being delicate enough to use a pencil... two opposite, but equally beautiful, ways to channel his energy "Talk about the total package! I knew you were an athlete..."

"What do you mean?"

"... nothing. Err, do you attend a fencing school as well?"

By the time Zoro has finished telling you about his adoptive father, who has been his fencing instructor since he was old enough to hold a practice sword and who then adopted him when he was fourteen, you have reached Luffy and the others, waiting on or around a bench in the school's parking lot.

"Speaking about my father..."

"Yes?"

Zoro stops, forcing you to do the same. "I wouldn't normally do it, but Luffy says I can trust you." he says, looking at you right in the eyes as if warning you against disappointing your friend's trust in you, as well as his "My adoptive father... he doesn't know I study here. He wants me to focus on fencing, so when I was fourteen and I went to love with him, he asked me to leave the school; I told him I had but..."

"... you obviously didn't." you finish for him "And he doesn't know you come here, three times a week? And you had for years?"

He tells you it is not always easy to hide he spends many of his evenings at the schools, but fortunately he's old enough his father doesn't feel the need to keep track of his movements, and his friends and employer (his friend Kuina's father) cover for him. "It has been easier since I came of age, since now I can at least use the money my biological parents have left me to pay for the school. Before that I was a step away from selling my... well..."

"I see." you say, sincerely touched; poor Zoro, forced to hide something he loves doing because he fears disappointing his father, or being forced to abandon it. Isn't he old enough to decide what to do with his life? "What's your father's name?"

"Dracule Mihawk."

"I don't think I've ever met him, but if this is what worries you, I'll keep your secret; I promise I won't tell anyone. If you want, you can come to my place to draw; I don't mind, and you can simply tell your father you're visiting a friend."

"Are you sure?" Zoro asks; he seems... taken aback, as if he didn't expect such support from a person he has just met and who has refused to be paid for her trouble. But, not to sound presumptuous, helping people who pursue their dreams and passions comes natural to you; you wouldn't be Luffy's friend otherwise "That... would be perfect actually. My father usually comes home late in the evening, so we would be more or less safe at my place, but..."

"Why risk getting caught, if we can avoid it?" you reasonably point out "I... can come pick you up, if you want; to show you the way."

You quickly exchange contacts, and you find yourself smiling; becoming an accountant is still your first ambition, but the prospect of beginning a new career as a model is exciting. Even though the thought of taking your clothes off in front of someone you just met is still weird... especially if your public will be composed of a single man, in the more intimate context of your apartment...

Technically speaking, you have invited a man to your home to look as you get naked; the thought makes you blush again, even though you felt perfectly at ease as you posed for the students. Pull yourself together, (name)! After all, he wouldn't be the first, would he? Even though, it has been a long time since...

"So... we have a deal?"

"We have. I can't wait to pose for you - I mean, I'm happy to help you."

"I'll try not to waste your time then." Zoro promises with a new smile, happy and relieved, and you think he should do it more often, because he looks even more lovely when he does it... "Thank you, (name); really, I appreciate it."

You tell him not to mention it, and by now you have reached Luffy and the others, who have attentively listened to your conversation.

"Sorry I kept you guys waiting."

"No problem. You sure you can't come, Zoro?" Luffy asks, clearly disappointed he cannot have all his friends with him; he shakes his head, apologetic and sorry in the reserved, vaguely introverted attitude you have already learnt to know.

"Sorry, next time, I promise."

He grins at you. "See you soon."

"See you on Sunday, Zoro."

You wink at him, and he waves as he looks at you walking to Luffy and your new friends.

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

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asp1diske-art · 24 days

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Your technical skill with lineart and shading is amazing in itself, but it's your ability to convey emotion and atmosphere in your work that is trademark to me :) its incredible how you can show through gesture and body language just what these masked, expressionless characters are feeling, and how the environment itself conveys that. Your lurien comics, especially the one that ends in something along the lines of "I return to the kingdom you abandoned" are I think the spark that made Lurien go from Some Guy to Deeply Interesting for me, and your use of color pop and shaky line contributed so much to the feeling in those comics. You are one of the artists whose skill at evoking emotions I aspire to <3

Oh wow, I've been reading and re-reading this for the last 20 minutes this is amazing.

So, emotions!

If there is one thing I'm proud to have accomplished during my time in Hollow Knight, it's the skill of expressing tone. Because here's the thing, facial expressions are just one of the many components of tone. (I even wrote about this in another ask some time ago.) Colors, gestures, camera angle, lighting, paneling, lines and narration - all of these come together to convey the mood of the scene.

Check out these wips from the Watcher and the Watched comic, for example.

You can see that color played a huge role in setting the atmosphere in the comic. It shows that this comic is taking place in the Watcher's Spire, but it also gives a dark, subdued feeling that wouldn't come from idk, a yellow background. The backlight emphasizes the ominous tone of the last page. As does Lurien's pose - coupled with the butler looking up and Lurien looking down, it makes it look like Lurien is looming over his butler (and the reader). All this builds up to deliver Lurien's lines with maximum impact.

So yeah, a lot goes into conveying tone in comics, and I'm very happy to hear that it was recieved well!!

The Lurien, Dreamer comic. It's almost 2 years old now but it's still one of the favorite comics I drew about him. Together with the City of Tears comic, it's the epitome of my interpretation of Lurien. My characterization of Lurien's relationship with the Pale King was quite different from the usual fanon at the time (I don't know how it is now, I haven't gone into the tags in years haha) and I wasn't really sure how people would take it. So I'm glad to hear that it got you interested in Lurien!

It's the one that took the longest too lol. Usually I draw comics in a single setting, but that one took 3 days. Besides Two Ghosts (which was an 18 chapter+@ comic that was over 50p and took about 2 months), no other comic has broken this record. I put in a lot of care into it, and it still holds a special place in my heart.

Honestly half the reason I use messy, sketchy lines is that I suck at drawing clean lines lmao. But I like to think that I've made the best of it and utilized it as an art style. In that comic especially, because the whole thing takes place in the dream realm and I wanted to give a rough, unreal feel to it.

I'd show breakdowns of this one too but the file is so big it keeps crashing lol. (Pro tip - draw your comic pages in separate files. Don't be like me and draw 300dpi 10p comics with 30 layers in each page in a single canvas. It will crash and you will be sad.) But drawing the White Palace was a interesting challenge because I usually draw in highly saturated colors whereas the Palace is, well, white. So I had to work out a way to color this without making everything looking grey, while also making it recognizable as the palace. iirc I used a lot of overlay & burn & dodge layers along with a few difference & subtract layers to give the white a slight yellow tint to stand out from the dark blue. (I'm pretty sure they're the culprits crashing the file.)

Sorry this got long, I really took this as an invitation to ramble about my art hkfsldjkflj

Thank you for all the compliments! It's an honor to hear that my art could be someone's aspiration, and I'm very happy that all my Lurien art got someone else into Lurien. I hope you have a nice day :D

#asks #my art #long post

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luvring · 1 year

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idk if ur reqs are open but I would love to hear your thoughts on Vere 👁️👁️ hes literally dominated my entire headspace I can’t go ten minutes w/o thinking ab how I want to bite his forearm

GENERAL VERE HCS

gn!reader | back 2 knocking these guys out of the park. also i realized these are shorter than my hq bf hcs so. if anyone wants a pt.2 for anybody.. u know what to do

i think u Should bite his arm. For Fun. vere w bite-y partner who he bites back. 'gently' considering he has fangs though

congratulations on being one of 2 people he'd let touch and brush his tail. sometimes he swishes it against your face and then pretends he didn't. "i have no idea what you're talking about," he says before making direct eye contact and doing it again

he likes drawing. ok. have we considered him drawing you. you ask him about it and he says he won't show you. you tease him and ask "what? did you draw sparkles and hearts surrounding me?" and he plays along, "yes, i even checked what i'd look like with your last name and drew us kissing."

It's actually quite a nice sketch of you though. like of you smiling or asleep or something because you fell aslep near him. oh man...

vere knows all the ins and outs of the city which means he can give you a personalized tour that caters to all your interests!! you can ask him to take you to his favourite spots too of course but he feels very accomplished watching you grin in the store he purposely walked by

shocked if you get him a gift. acts nonchalant and is good enough at accepting things but internally, especially if it's something he's been eyeing for a while or has sentimental value,, he . He....

like yeah okay vere...act all cool...as if your eyes don't flicker over whenever you walk past it...as if you don't catch yourself smiling subconsciously...whatever

definitely tries cooking your favourite meal. doesn't go very well, especially if it's something he's never had, but he'll keep practicing until he makes something decent. don't ask how many attempts he did because he won't tell you unless he somehow started a fire and even Then the truth is debatable

if YOU know how to cook it Please for the love of god teach him, or write down the recipe for both your sakes. for the kitchen. plea

everyone tells him/the both of you to shut the hell up whenever you start flirting back and forth/competing to see how many innuendos you can feasibly say. the both of you team up only to bully everyone else for being single before continuing

asshole if you played uno. i'm not competitive nor do i give two shits if i lose at uno but even i would lose it watching vere push for whatever stacking rule he needs to get someone a +20. watch your cards or he'll manage to look over at them. do not trust a single deal he tries. watch his ears and tail i'm sure he has a tell

really good at helping build confidence . what ais said about him being honest but also not trusting anything he says yeah well this is when he'd be completely honest. easily reminds you how capable you are of something, knows what makes you confident, etc etc. and you just ? know you can trust him? it's the vibe. how he says it so plainly as if it's obvious

don't try to lie to him about things. like if you're upset about something it is So obvious to him no matter how hard you try and he'd really appreciate it if you would tell him why or ask to talk about it later when you're ready.

^ as someone who wants to piss her pants at the thought of being direct or whatever,, he'd also be very good at knowing when to push or not. if you respond better to a lighter/gentle reminder i'm sure he would do so :heart:

i have a feeling this guy would be incredibly incredibly incredibly into you asking to post him on any socmed. do you want his face in it. do you want it to be a little spicy. should he pose. actually he probably pouts a little if you want a faceless pose but bro why does it matter if there is not a cm of space between us. why is your hand around my neck rn /lh You know the poses

#touchstarved game #touchstarved vere #vere x reader #🧾nia.answers #<3 anon #he is so rime to me. aw man #nia + touchstarved

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borntoocry · 1 year

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Could you pleaseee write something where y/n sends Ellie a cheeky 🤭picture and Ellie rushes over to y/n’s dorm or house or smth….and we all know what happens next. I love ur work btw ❤️

a/n: I suck at making extremely short stuff... also this isn't as good as I hoped but I hope YOU like it:)

mentions of pet names. 'baby/babe.' NOT PROOFREAD!!

The bag that held your risque lingerie sat in your vanity chair, drawing you in no matter how badly you wanted to stay in bed. You imagined yourself dressed in the periwinkle bra and panties, showing yourself off to Ellie as she sat in front of you. But she was selling at the moment, in questionable people’s driveway, waiting for them to grab their grams.

You were sad that she wasn’t around in the tiny duplex you shared. She was off doing her job, yes, but she was doing her job. You hated being away from her, you held an attachment to her that could not be compared to anything you’ve had before. Maybe it was due to the fact that Ellie was your first long-term woman relationship, or that she was your main friend. Whatever it was, you hated being away from her, no matter the circumstance.

You were going to ride with her today, but she told you to stay home. She had been grumpy all morning, claiming that people were wasting her time, trying to badly negotiate prices on eights, zips, even three grams. And on top of that, people weren’t taking her seriously when she said she had to study and finish homework.

Now the bag resting on your vanity chair seemed more intriguing. You wanted to look sexy, feel sexy, and give Ellie something to smile about.

You instantly stood up without another thought and grabbed your bag off the vanity chair. You undressed, slid on the periwinkle lace panties–that left nothing to the imagination–the lace bra that had your nipples on full display, and a garter belt that connected to stocking you had previously bought. You clipped everything together, and when you stood in front of the mirror, even you just wanted to fuck yourself. You looked hot. And not even that felt like the correct word.

You then grabbed your phone off your bed and opened up the camera. You tried out a few poses, trying to figure out what was the sexiest. After a few rounds taken where you looked absolutely ravishing, you undid your bra and took a few more pictures.

⇰ you

6 attachments

i know ur a bit grumpy today… hope this helps ;)

You dropped your phone onto your bed and continued looking at yourself in the mirror. You rarely saw yourself in this kind of attire. If you were going to have sex with Ellie, you never wore fancy lace and garter belts and stockings. Usually, you just wore your regular bra and underwear–no matter if they weren’t matching, or if you wore your grandma underwear after not washing your clothes. Ellie somehow always found you beautiful.

But this time was different. Ellie deposited $500 into your account a couple days prior and asked you to buy yourself anything you wanted. You knew how she had acquired the money, but the action itself left you feeling guilty. This money was hers and could have been used for rent, herself, food, etc., but instead she gifted it to you.

It was easy money for her, especially since people usually bought a lot from her. Parents, students, old people bought from her, and her dad still gave her money even if she begged him not to, so she had a massive influx of money.

You thanked her by pleasing her, but no matter how much you thanked her, kissed her, fucked her, it wasn’t enough to you. So you were making it up to her by buying lingerie and sending sexy pictures.

Not even two minutes later, your phone chimed. You unlocked it and instantly squirmed.

⇰ ellie♥

oh baby.

don’t go anywhere. i’ll be right there.

fuuuck. okay. i’m ten minutes away.

⇰ you

don’t you have work?!!!! i didn’t send them for you to come home!!

⇰ ellie♥

FUCK WORK.

i’m literally creaming in my jeans babe.

holy shit ur hot as hell?!!!?

You threw your phone onto the bed and quickly re-clipped your bra. You put on your robe, sat down at your vanity, and tried styling your hair in the tiniest form of sexy you could. Maybe tossing it into a messy bun? Or maybe quickly curling a few pieces? Leaving it how it is?

You tried to curl your hair, but you were trembling with excitement that everything turned into a mess. So you tried playing around with it to see if you liked it framing your face. No. Then, you tied it up in a messy bun with two curly pieces left out in the front.

And now, with your hair and makeup done, ten minutes have passed by.

And an angry car parked in front of your house. A door slammed, followed by an aggressive knock at the door. She had a key, but she was most certainly waiting for you to open the door. So… you ran to the door. You checked the peephole, and there stood Ellie, rocking back and forth, hands slapping her thighs.

You bit back a squeal and unlocked the door, opening it to meet Ellie, who spent no time rushing in and shutting the door, pinning you behind it. You gasped at the contact and stared at your girlfriend who’s eyes were already darting over your body.

“Sorry,” you said, “I put on a robe.”

She shrugged and untied it. She tore it off and threw it onto the floor beside you. Her hands found their way onto your hips, thumbs caressing your soft skin. Her eyes were buzzing about and you felt the need to tear her clothes off. You already had her wrapped around your finger, all you needed now was her physically wrapped around you.

“What?” you asked, sounding completely clueless to the situation.

“‘What?’” Ellie scoffed. “What do you mean ‘what’? You send me pictures of yourself in lingerie and then with your tits out on full display and you expect me not to want to fucking worship you?”

You laughed. “I just thought they’d be nice. To get you through the day.”

Her fingers wrapped around the hooks of your garter belt and she quickly unclipped them. “You thought that would get me through the day? Baby, if you send me shit like that, I’d drop everything to come and fuck your pretty ass out of this–” She pulled the band of your thong and let it go, allowing the material to slap your skin.

You grabbed her belt loop and pulled her in, forcing your lips to collide. Your hands maneuvered through her hair and down to her shoulders, where you pried her infamous flannel off her body. You threw it onto the floor, on top of the robe.

Next was her shirt. Then her jeans. And then you pulled away, examining her toned stomach and how the lines of her soft abs protruded with each breath. You smiled. She looked sexy herself, even if she was wearing a simple black sports bra and her usual black boyshorts.

You ran your hands down the expanse of her skin and hooked your thumbs into her underwear. “I need to ride you,” you whispered.

She hummed. “Oh really?” she asked with a smirk.

You nodded and began pushing her back, turning her around and pulling her behind you once you got far enough. You then pushed her onto the large couch in the living room and straddled her, hands finding home on her shoulders, rubbing along the material of her sports bra and the skin of her neck.

Ellie placed her hands on your waist and pulled and pulled on your thong. She leaned into you and kissed your cheek, neck, the fat of your breasts. “I need you to take these off,” she whispered.

“Why?” you replied.

“It makes it harder to feel your pussy on me…”

You smiled and quickly stood up. You pulled off the garter completely, followed along by your thong. They went next to you, far from the robe and Ellie’s clothing, leaving your home evident of fucking.

You bent your arms behind your body, fingers finding your bra clasp. However, Ellie pulled your legs towards her and stopped you from unclasping it. “Let me,” she said, and you sat on her naked thigh.

You whined at the contact, already twitching at the feeling of your wet cunt dragging along her thigh. She chuckled and wrapped her arms around you, hands needily unclasping your bra. This movement had you leaning forward with slight groans, your body heaving at the slow and steady grinding.

Once the bra was off, Ellie’s hands found their way onto your boobs, fingers massaging your flesh and rolling your nipples between her fingers. You hummed. The pleasure of slowly rolling your hips and your tits being kneaded was beyond compare.

“You like that?” Ellie asked.

You nodded. “Fuck…yes…” you moaned.

“Good, just keep grinding baby.”

You continued doing so: grinding down onto her thigh as she licked, sucked, played with your boobs and nipples. Ellie would shake her leg every so often, forcing gasps and loud moans out of you. It worsened once she leaned back and placed her hands on your hips, drilling her nails into your flesh and moving your hips along with you. You bit down on your lip, trying to hide the moans that bounced off the walls of your throat. But the more you tried, the harder it got–until you gave up and started moaning at every change in rhythm.

“That’s it,” you whined. Ellie was slapping your ass the faster you rode her. Your hands found their way onto Ellie’s boobs: sports bra pushed up, tits spilling out and catching the coldness of the fan above you. Her moans pedaled you forward and you rocked faster, ground your pussy harder onto her bare thigh. “That’s it baby. That’sitthat’sitthat’sit.”

“C’mon baby,” Ellie grunted. “Grind that pretty little pussy onto me. Ride my thigh like you fucking mean it. You can do it.”

The praises left you heaving, crying out into the air as you climaxed. You ran your thumbs over her pretty tits and fell forward, pressing your head into the crook of her neck.

Ellie instantly began rubbing your back. She kissed the side of your sweaty head and you could feel the curve of her smiling lips.

“You did so good, baby,” Ellie whispered.

“Did I?” you asked.

She nodded. “Now send me one of those again and I’ll be doing more than letting you ride my thigh.”

You moved your head and looked down at her. “You want to go again? I think you have more in you.”

Ellie bit down on her lip. “I think so too…”

#ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #elliewilliams x reader #ellie williams x you #oneshot #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie williams recs

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