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#Fine Art Cushions
sysig · 4 months
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2023 Art Purge
Original edition! Ended up having to split the doodles into two parts, I didn’t mean to end up with so many left over but oops - onto the commentary!
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Remember crayon Edgar? I drew this one at the same time! Loosely based off Circus Baby but really just more of a general cutesy look - layering with colours is fun :)
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Eyes, every year. Two general eyes, and two characters! Bottom left is Souichi, and bottom right is Vivian :) Vivian always gets a spare eye haha
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Some concept art for a false backpack I still kinda wanna make - it’d be a prop for a game I made earlier this year, as the prize container! It’s meant to be kind of like a pop-up shop that can fold away fairly small and hold a bunch of small items safely and inconspicuously, though it wouldn’t actually work as a real backpack lol
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Some Cherubsona concept art, thinking about their hair and the light rays - I considered having a single asymmetrical hair tuft, I think while I was still on the fence about having asymmetrical wings as well - I’m happy with the final design :)
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And some baby angels! Based on my DQIX/AGE headcanons/actual canon lol, took a few tries to get a design I was happy with before settling on the bottom-most one with the fuzzed ears, lolling about haha. Cute!
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Also thinking about “Fallen” designs, since my cherubsona is meant to be a fallen angel - or even just biblically accurate angels! Maybe they became more normal-looking after falling haha
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More Charm doodles based on the Hungry idea - neither Frankenstein nor Zombies were quite what I was looking for, but they were close! Poor Charm, even if it is a Look
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More eyes! Concept sketches of the Yanderapy boys :D Mitsu’s swirls and Ishida’s sleepy ♥ eye expression haha
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An alternate panel of Mitsu being shy to admit his love language haha, I wanted his expression to be a little more visible but him hiding in the book is also very cute haha
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Little doodle of Ishida singing Daisy Bell! He’s half-crazy all for the love of Mitsu after all
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Technically these are from later in the year but I was really hoping to have the set up for a silly concept rolling - Ishida wants to play a game! The game would allow each of them to take a turn, with the goal of the game to be to sneak a gift into the other’s bag or pocket when he’s not looking. A cute and silly and fun concept to reverse pick-pocket the other and give a little treat! Totally harmless and not at all strange or weird or with any kind of underlying sinister vibes!
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The punchline of course was that since they’re both yanderes that it basically turns into stalking each other, which as featured here, Mitsu is very into, who could have guess lol. The double punchline is that they’re both so aware of/obsessed with each other that they notice each other right away, but play along because it’s obvious that they’re both enjoying it haha It’s yandere enrichment! Ishida would also get a real rush from “hunting” Mitsu, as would Mitsu enjoy being “hunted” - yet more twisted love languages ♥
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Random deer :) Actually one of the animals I considered for Dahlia early on but decided to scrap, because I don’t know how to draw deer lol
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Also went through a couple scrapped designs for her artist friend, just to make sure I explored all my options thoroughly! I’m glad I did, but I’m happiest with the one I decided on, of course
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Brief Dahlia and Tala meeting. They’re unsure of each other! Squirrels and dogs don’t have the best track record admittedly
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Bit of vent :( Bar’s always good for it ♥
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Bucket! :D Been a bit since I drew anyone from that cast, though I somehow made him on-model by accident lol, and of course he’s still cute! That’s the important part really
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Eyesssssssss <3 <3 On the left were some quick comparisons between dot/filled-in eyes and eyes with a differentiated pupil and iris, since I’ve been defaulting to dark eyes a lot lately (it’s the Vargas influence lol); and on the right were a bunch of Cure eyes! I think at least partially studied off of some character creators? Lots of eye styles to choose from, which one suits her the best hmm. She has very sparkly eyes
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And another sort-of study off a character creator haha, it’s very cute! Not very Cure, though
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One of the early ideas that made me want to dig her out of storage was actually an animation idea that was maybe a liiiiiittle ambitious to go about making without her having a fixed design lol - I’ve always been a fan of magical girl transformations that completely glow-blot out the body and then they explode into frills and bows and fluff at the end haha. I would still like to come back to the idea at some point!
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Ended up with a good handful of muscle studies, even after the ones I already posted - a lot of the poses ended up silly haha
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And a lot of skull/face/neck studies as well, with mixed success :P
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I’ll get it figured out eventually!
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Sometimes it’s fun to just doodle around, shapes :) My own original human style feels so constantly in flux with the fanart I like to make and having so many non-human characters haha, probably doesn’t help that I prefer high stylism
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A trio! They look kinda familiar, hmmm....
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Yet more eyes lol, the first trying to figure shines. You can really see what a lack of editing does to the implied shapes pfft ♪
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Always trying to figure out how to dragons! Another one I’ll have to get to Someday. There’s gotta be a trick to them >:0
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Out of general studies and tests - hey I thought Just Desserts already had a sona??? And that she was like the most important and best and all that?? I got curious what my sona might be in the JD universe without being the villain haha, and I came up with a Chocolate-Chip Brioche Bun lad! :D I’ve always had something of an affinity for brioche, also somewhat inspired by Edgeworth’s cravat haha. But would Charm still exist and be wreaking havoc, or would this be the alternate universe Charm equivalent?? ‘Cause they’re definitely not “Charm”
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Speaking of Charm tho! She’s holding a tooth lol - something something, candy people mining teeth? Because cavities? I dunno lol, but she’s certainly not all that much bigger than a tooth so that’s some fun scale for you :)
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And finishing off with some cutesie little chibis :) I made the first as a reference for proportions, and the second to show how my holosona would look in that style haha, what a cute evil computer
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modernabstractart · 8 months
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Exploring Aboriginal Art: A Guide to Buying Symbols and Fine Art Prints
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Art has been an integral part of human expression for millennia, offering a glimpse into the diverse cultures, histories, and beliefs of societies across the world. Among the myriad forms of artistic expression, Aboriginal art stands out as a rich tapestry of symbolism, history, and storytelling. The art of Indigenous Australian peoples carries deep cultural significance, often using symbols to convey intricate narratives and connections to the land. In recent years, the demand for Aboriginal art with symbols, including both traditional symbols and fine art prints, has grown substantially. However, buying such artworks requires not only an appreciation for their aesthetic value but also a respect for their cultural roots.
Before you embark on your journey to purchase Aboriginal art for your home or commercial property, it is essential to educate yourself about the history, culture, and symbolism that underpin these works. Books, documentaries, and online resources can provide valuable insights into the meanings of different symbols, the cultural contexts they come from, and the artists who create them. By understanding the significance behind these artworks, you will be better equipped to appreciate their value and make informed buying decisions.
When buying Aboriginal art and fine art prints Australia, authenticity is of paramount importance. Unfortunately, there have been instances of unethical practices such as the reproduction of art without proper authorization or the misappropriation of cultural symbols. To ensure the authenticity of the artwork, consider purchasing from reputable galleries, online platforms, or directly from Indigenous artists and art communities. Look for artworks that come with a certificate of authenticity, which verifies the origin and authorship of the piece.
For more tips on how to buy Aboriginal art with symbols and fine art prints Australia, visit our website at https://www.urbanroad.com.au
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melancholyhigh · 10 months
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ARTWORK
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ft. leon x artist!reader
synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.
content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.
note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.
masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3
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“Paint me like one of your French girls.”
You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints. 
“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”
–-
You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind. 
He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry. 
When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.
On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him. 
You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.
People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting. 
“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness. 
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”
“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”
He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle. 
He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork. 
–-
Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. 
His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.
He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.
Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas. 
He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.
You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now. 
“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.
It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration. 
He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade. 
You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint. 
Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much. 
Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.
He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.
“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.  
“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.  
His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze. 
“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”
A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss. 
Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.
“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.” 
Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch. 
You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right. 
You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.
“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint. 
After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him. 
You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.
“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead. 
Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck. 
His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo. 
You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft. 
You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper. 
The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.
“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.”  He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?
“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.
He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes. 
“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.
You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.
“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”
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some-bunniii · 1 month
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Lucifer jealous with an artist!reader
・❥ You’re invited to a prestigious art show to impress Hell’s royalty with your skills, but someone isn’t a fan of all the attention on you.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n.
~ 10.1k words
warnings: SMUT!! Adult themes!
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Being in a relationship with the King of Hell has its perks. Such as being able to skip any line at LuLu World, or not needing to make reservations months in advance to the most high-end restaurant in Pentagram City. And, of course, being able to buy anything in the entirety of Hell in the snap of a finger, or, make it, if your man is feeling extra creative that day.
The neatest one? Being able to jump across the Seven Rings of Hell. Sinners are usually confined to the Pride Ring for the entirety of their afterlife, anyone who attempts to leave would get obliterated by the magical security system that detects ring-hoppers. You had never seen it work in person, but the stories made it sound excruciatingly painful. But, no one had ever survived getting vaporized to be able to tell of their experience, so, you weren’t sure whether that was true or not.
These thoughts were plaguing your mind as you sat comfortably in the back of a clean, white limo. Its tinted windows, gold rims, and apple hood ornament screamed ‘Hell’s royalty’ as some onlookers gave the pimped-out vehicle a double-take as it rolled through traffic.
You had tried to argue against taking the conspicuous mode of transportation, opting for the lift that was commonly used by demons to travel across the rings. You most likely wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention or suspicion, since you looked like an average, everyday demon residing in Hell.
“Hop in an elevator with Heaven knows what kind of creepy people you’ll be pushed up against? Not going to happen,” Lucifer shook his head sternly at the idea, “I’m not risking your safety just because 
You had held your tongue after that, realizing you weren’t going to win when it came to Lucifer’s protectiveness of your wellbeing. Besides, the limo looked nice as it waited patiently outside of the hotel a few hours after the big breakfast you had shared with the residents of the hotel.
The inside was nice too, the red, leather seats so plush you were practically sinking into the furniture as you sipped on an alcoholic beverage. There was a minibar nestled between some cushions across from you, bottles of expensive red wine secured on racks next to clean, empty drinking glasses. 
A large stereo sat at the back of the limo, with tall speakers that flickered with an array of colors waiting idly for your touch. A small TV hung from the car’s ceiling, and you flicked through the channels mindlessly as you held your phone to one ear.
“Just let the driver do his thing, you’ll barely feel the portal before poof! You’re in the Greed Ring.” Lucifer assured over the phone as the white limo sped towards the edge of the ring. 
“And I won’t get turned to goo or anything?” 
“Not on my watch!” He spoke confidently. You could hear faint voices in the background, which meant he must still be at the hotel. “Trust me, love, you’ll be fine. But, maybeee you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had someone with you like… the King of Hell?” 
Rolling your eyes, you snorted quietly trying to hold in a laugh. Lucifer had been bugging you all day about barring him from joining you, but you steeled yourself against his begging, some plans, and preparations needed to be done as soon as you got to Greed. Having Lucifer along would no doubt distract you, especially with the sultry gazes he’d been throwing at you quite often lately, and you needed to get your game on for tonight.
“I told you, I’ve got dinner plans with some of the other artists, and there's work to be done at the venue. Tonight is very important, I can’t mess anything up.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ve got this in the bag, baby.”
Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled out the windows of the limo, your eyes following the winding road toward a large tunnel in the distance. Was that the portal entrance? It was the only thing out here in this barren part of the ring, and it was only growing closer in view as the limo sped on.
Soon, you’d be in Greed, one more step towards the big art show tonight. Your mind drifted back to the matters at hand, your nerves intensifying as you sat deep in thought.
Tonight, was the annual art fair and exhibition, ‘Elysium in Hell’. A famous, grandeur display of well-known and talented artists coming together to sell and showcase their pieces. Their skills with the brush and oils would also be compared fiercely, judged by the leading in the practice that usually dictated how well an artist’s pieces sell during the night.
When hosting the most wealthy and powerful beings in Hell, one had to know whether someone’s creations were truly worth the large price tag. 
It had only ever been a dream, for you to even attend a gathering of such nobility. This was the kind of place you’d find the Seven Deadly Sins, like Lucifer, were strolling around places like these for fun. When to you, and other artists, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to make your passion a really good career. As in, spending the rest of your days lounging in your villa’s pool, finding your painting inspiration by looking out into the expanse of the ‘this view cost me a lot of goddamn money’ scenery. 
It was a chance to put your work out there, farther than the hotel, farther than Asmodeus’ club. Maybe, into a Goetia’s office, or a Sin’s bedroom! That was the dream, to have people appreciate and feast on your craft, while also making really good money from it.
It must have been Asmodeus who got your name on the list since he really seemed to enjoy your more explicit paintings. Lucifer also could have used his influence too, but you hoped that wasn't the case. You wanted your success to be based on your effort, not someone’s pretty words.
Would Lucifer even do that? After all, it was he who was more inclined to keep your relationship a secret. At least, secret to everyone outside of the hotel. It was hard to keep a secret from them, especially when the manager of the place was the man-you-were-courting’s daughter. 
It was something about the press down here being very brutal, and the fact you’d be in the public eye and under its scrutiny constantly. Unless, you become a shut-in hermit for the rest of your life, and while you enjoy the solitude, you don’t how long you could be stuck inside before growing depressed. Even a castle got boring after a while.
But the big problem, was you’d be a target instantly when it came to Heaven’s exterminations. You were a Sinner, and your life was at risk every time those gaping, golden portals opened to swallow the sky, and their blood-thirsty valkyries that would flood the streets with weapons made of holy light.
There was no doubt they would do whatever was necessary to destroy any kind of stability within Hell, and even direct attacks toward Lucifer and those he holds dear. Charlie? Well, she was Hellborn, safe from Heaven’s wrath unless they fancied all-out war. 
But, you? The exterminations were created to kill you, an agreement between Heaven and Hell’s King to quell the uprisings, to keep their control over all realms in Creation. Lucifer never had a reason to care about the population of Sinners inside his ring, until you arrived, with that soft smile and overflowing head of ideas.
If Heaven wanted your head, they would surely have it, if they dared to incur Lucifer’s wrath. He couldn't protect you from everything, no matter how many times he assured you. He wasn't the most powerful being in existence, there were those much greater. 
Was there more to it, though? Was it some kind of political reason because someone of the lower class could never be seen as one of the heads of the royal family, therefore the entirety of Hell as well? Would there be an uprising among the nobility, who couldn’t fathom someone without influence or power to have command over them?
So, for now, you’d spoil your king with kisses and soft words away from prying eyes. In the comfort of your room, surrounded by fond memories and heated exchanges of passion. Breakfast in bed, lounging the day away on your balcony, staring towards the city. 
Sometimes, Lucifer would enthrall you with tales from past interactions with other royalty, mainly the other Sins. He’d impersonate each, his voice almost perfectly mimicking their tones and speech patterns as he recounted stories that made you laugh so hard you almost tilted over the railing once.
Lucifer had spilled his wine trying to catch you as you leaned a little too far backward over the metal edge, his hands gripping your forearms as you adjusted for balance.
“This,” he had said with a breathless laugh as you stumbled into him, before the fallen angel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush, “is why I can’t take my eyes off you anymore. There’s always a mortally wounding drop that you can’t seem to stay away from!”
You only giggled in response, your buzz making it impossible for you to give your lover a straight face as he tried to frown sternly at your reaction, only failing miserably when you lost balance again from the laughs that began to shake your figure. 
Lucifer began to lift you upright once more, a soft laugh escaping his lips as you only sent him a lopsided grin, leaning closer to him. It wasn't until his gaze lowered and he caught the tipped wine glass that had rolled against the leg of a chair, did the fallen angel deflated slightly.
“Look, you even made me spill my drink..” He whined, his eyes sullenly tracing the small river of red liquid that cascaded over the table’s edge.
You captured Lucifer’s lips in a sloppy kiss, your teeth grazing against his skin as you hummed an apology between trailing kisses. The King only melted into your hold as you filled him with sweet like ‘My silly duck’ and ‘The most handsome angel’. 
Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks, before breaking the kiss and sending him a loving smile. You squished his cheeks softly, and Lucifer only melted in your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.
“Well, at least I’ll get some kind of buzz from the taste of your lips,” he sighed happily against your palm, flashing those pretty bedroom eyes at you as his claw slid beneath your undergarment, grazing against warm, bare flesh that caused you to shiver underneath his touch. 
Lacing your fingers with his, you sent him a sultry smile as you tugged him towards the open balcony doors, soft light basking the entrance to your room with light red hues as you crossed the threshold. 
Lucifer growled softly, his pupils dilating as he lifted a hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following you obediently into the darkness. The balcony doors shut behind him with invisible force, and wisps of golden light snaked out of the keyhole, before being blown away like dust. 
You smiled at the thoughts, your heart fluttering as those feelings bubbled up underneath your heated skin. This was the first time you had been away from him for a while, and it did feel much lonelier without his vibrant aurora that only filled your soul with warmth. 
Soon, you’d be back in his soothing embrace. But first, there was work and an audience to woo.
You had told him he could come later tonight after the show started, which had made him beam with happiness and promise to be there in support of you.
Would he appear as his common imp disguise? A Goetia? Would you even be able to tell it was him without those shades on his face? It seemed like you’d be playing I Spy later tonight.
“—will be there?”
You blinked, shaking your head to pull yourself back into reality. 
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, do you think any of these famous painters you studied all your life will be there? I mean, they couldn't have all been virtuous and sinless, right? I’m sure that one guy that cut his ear off wasn't stable enough to make it through the pearly gates.”
“Huh... I don't know, I never thought about that before.” You laughed, your eyes still on the tunnel that was now only a mile away, before Lucifer could start on another subject, you quickly broke the silence, “I’m about to go through the portal, I think. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight.” 
“Oh, okay! Listen, don’t worry, it’ll feel like passing through any normal earthly tunnel… probably. I can't wait to see you, and hopefully, in that delicious outfit you bought earlier,” he teased.
“If the King commands it of me,” you replied with a honeyed tone, your words “but, he’ll have to be patient, can the mighty Lucifer Morningstar resist such taking a bite from the apple?”
“No matter how tempting, I’ll just wait until I can ravish it in its entirety later,” the soft growl in his voice made your breath hitch slightly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what ‘later’ would entail.
“We’ll see,” you whispered, before pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. You felt giddy in your seat, that heat slowly ebbing from your skin as the tunnel loomed ahead. You grabbed the wine rack next to you for support as large shadows swept across the limo’s interior as it disappeared into the darkened path.
Lucifer was right, it had honestly felt just like you had driven through a regular old tunnel, if not for the tingling at the back of your neck and the feeling of weightlessness for only a moment as the limo’s tires hit solid ground once more.
Then, green skies cast emerald hues along the seats as you peeked out the window, excitement bubbling in you. You were in another ring for crying out loud! This was a first, and other than pictures, you had no idea what 
It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the change in hues, did the anticipation died immediately and a frown graced your features.
Greed looked… kind of ugly. Thick, green smog powered from large towards that dotted across the barren expanse. Large industrial buildings nestled between them, most likely some kind of plant or factory.
Rivers of sludge flowed from each facility into a large, concrete-lined lake. There was no doubt it smelled rancid out there, and your nose crinkled at the thought.
The large city that the limo was heading to was the least soaring to the eyes, its towering corporate buildings filled the sky. Flashing multicolored lights emanated from the middle of the sea of buildings, most likely party central of the capital.
As the vehicle rolled down the street, stopping at the streetlight, you were aware of the eyes that were trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows. Some demons even pulled out their phones, snapping a quick picture of the pristine, white paint that shimmered underneath the street lamps. 
They probably thought it was someone important, like Lucifer, maybe even Charlie. Thankfully, discrete locations where you’d be dropped off and picked up had already been decided. Hopefully, you won’t have any run-ins with the paparazzi or anything crazy. 
You checked the time on the TV, you were just in time for check-in at the hotel you were booked at. It had been provided by the organization behind the large event, and you weren’t sure what to expect. 
As the limo pulled alongside a back street, you spotted an elevator a few feet from the curb. Taking another sip of your drink, you gathered your things and opened the large passenger door.
Stepping over the gap, you hoisted everything onto the sidewalk, fiddling with a few loose items before turning towards the long vehicle, shutting the passenger door, and leaning over to the driver’s side window.
“Thank you, Jeremy.” You called to the driver, a short imp with a bushy, white mustache. He only nodded at you through the shaded glass, before the limo began to pull away from the curb.
You turned towards the elevator doors, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward
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After a few hours lounging around in your hotel room, the rest of your day was filled with preparations. 
You spent the early hours at a very fancy restaurant, surrounded by other artists. They all looked Hellborn, although you were sure you couldn’t have been the only one who got granted access from Pride. 
They all seemed relatively cheerful, sharing stories and techniques of their careers. You even shared some of your art with a couple of nice women that you were seated next to, the one that hung up at Ozzie’s. 
“I saw those the other day! That was you? You are such a great artist!” One gushed, while the other two nodded their head in silent agreement.
“That’s really kind of you, but, I’m not that good,” you brushed off her compliment, hoping to change the subject to someone other than you. You refrained from telling them where you worked, or anything about you, really. They may be kind to you, but in Hell, that didn't mean their motives were pure.
The tension in the air was a little thicker than you would have preferred to, but some of your “competitors” came from nothing, and would go home to nothing, if they weren’t able to make a large enough income after tonight.
Arriving not too long after at the large building that would host the show only heightened your anxiety, as your eyes bounced from booth to booth that was being set up with paintings, pottery, and other mediums.
The interior looked like a giant convention center, the walls a blank white with gold trim, a perfect backdrop for the splash of color that was beginning to take shape across the multiple displays.
The booths looked like large cubicles, with tall partition walls separating each artist’s collection. Only the front, which one would be able to walk into the little square to observe the different pieces, was wallless. As you moved to your spot, you turned your head to catch a glimpse at the surrounding work.
Every piece that caught your gaze looked so amazing, and that only made doubt creep farther into your mind at how good you fared against some of these big names. 
Most of the work was reminiscent of what you had done previously, back when you worked for Alexandre at his studio. Scenes of steamy interactions between two—sometimes up to five—lovers, angel exterminators with their chests gouged out, and landscapes of different locations across Hell.
You had expected it, and all of the pieces that you had brought with were from before your time at the hotel, or were painted with such thoughts in mind. The demons that had wallets to empty weren’t looking for cute scenes of bunnies and fawns, or angels in a good light, for that matter. 
You worked tirelessly, placing your canvases against the walls, creating price tags, and trying to finish everything before the event officially started. You were making good time, and your worry was pushed to the back of your mind as you kept busy.
Which made you lift your head from your work, your eyes scanning the small crowd of workers and artists that bustled about. Some ran across the large, white marble floor as they shouted commands to the helpers. 
Was he one of the imps who was helping set up the booths? You had no idea what he looked like in his disguise since he had altered it so only you could see through the lie. There was no familiar yellow gaze or rosy cheek spots that you could pick up from the mass.
He was either not here or was hiding from you. Your gaze flicked up the large clock, one more hour. You turned back to the task at hand, heart racing, and mind wandering as your hands lowered to another small canvas.
“Alright, people! We’re opening the doors, let's get this party started!” A voice rose above the chatter, signaling the beginning of the event. You lifted your head, it was starting already? Time really flew by. 
Demons rushed past your display, running to their own assigned section with renewed vigor as loud footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Looking down, you tidied your outfit, the one Lucifer had mentioned earlier.
You had bought it weeks ago, but only revealed it to him right before you left. In your eyes, it wasn’t much different than what you normally do, except that it was much more formal and eye-catching. And, red. Apple red.
You definitely didn't expect Lucifer to react when his pupils turned to slits when you gave him a peak, or how he subtly wet his lips from beside you, his gaze traveling up your figure as he seemed to be picturing you in it.
Patrons began to fill the floor, the large growing louder as demons filed in, their eyes glinting with interest and excitement. Bird heads poked out from the crowd, the Goetia’s tall frames towering above most of the other attendees. They were definitely dressed like nobility, in dazzling robes that brushed against the tile as they moved with grace from booth to booth. 
Their talons clicked rhythmically against the tile as they glided past your figure, their eyes landing on the portraits behind you were curious as some stopped before you.
Apart from the Seven Deadly Sins, they were directly beneath the Morningstar family, and were Lucifer’s most loyal followers. Did they miss their King’s presence in his absence? You figured most of them had yet to run into the fallen angel, even with his face slowly appearing across the realm. 
Smiling widely, you greeted a few of them, stepping aside so they could take a closer look at your pieces. They slid past you, and your eyes landed back onto the crowd, scanning for anyone who resembled Lucifer, to no avail. Where was he?
“I like this one,” one of the Goetia spoke softly to her lover, pointing at an oil canvas depicting your idea of the River of Styx, the famous trail of water from Greek mythology that flowed into the underworld.
A little girl sat at the edge of the dark water as it flowed past, as if she was looking into the depths with longing. Her hand was outstretched, reaching towards the writing forms of grey, ghostly bodies that peeked from below the water’s surface. They held their arms out to her, begging for help, or perhaps for her to join them. 
The girl was looking at a specific being underneath the surface, a mirrored image of her small figure, their face contorted in agony as it met her gaze. Tears pooled from the little girl's eyes as she stared at herself, one hand to her mouth in grief as she reached tenderly towards the sicky grey image that represented her inevitable fate.
The two birds stared at the price tag beneath the canvas, before their eyes met and the shorter male Goetia turned to you with a stack of cash in his hand. You practically bounced on your toes with happiness as you took the money with a bow of your head.
“Thank you! Please return later and someone will help you carry it out!” You waved farewell as they left, their gaze already locked onto some pottery sitting on display a few displays away. 
This continued few another hour, a repetition of demons moving in and out of your booth to fawn over your different pieces. Some would occasionally pull out their wallet to purchase from you,  while they complimented your craftmanship.
Even with everything going on around you, and answering any questions that were thrown your way, your eyes still kept gravitating to the bustling crowd. Your mind still sifting through every figure looking for any resemblance to Lucifer. He would have revealed himself to you by now, wouldn’t he?
He didn’t forget or anything… right?
After waving goodbye to another customer, you turned to see a red-headed demon sneaking past some patrons, before she reached your booth entrance, knocking softly on the thin walls. You turned, raising an eyebrow as she timidly stared up at you.
“Hi! I’m Anna… from the restaurant earlier. Do you remember me?”
You recognized her after a moment, and a smile bloomed on your lips. She was a quiet girl, her figure resembled that of a porcelain doll, her features painted onto the smooth surface that mimicked her skin. 
Anna had sat diagonal from your chair at the restaurant, barely making a peep, but her eyes had followed your conversation with interest. You hadn't tried to speak to her, afraid she’d crack from the attention. She seemed fine around the large crowd now, though.
“Yes, that’s right. Hello, how can I help you?”
“I was just wondering if you had any extra ‘Thank You’ stickers that I could have? I’m going running pretty low.” 
“Selling out quick, huh?”
“Ha-ha, sort of. My ceramics are pretty cheap though, definitely not close in value to something like your work.”
Heat crept onto your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. Your skills were surely not that advanced to receive all this praise, it wasn't like you were some kind of prodigy back on Earth to deserve such kind words.
“Please, I’m sure your skills are equally matched. And, of course, let me go grab some for you!”
Turning, you reached into a box nestled against the wall a few feet away from you. You pulled out a small plastic bag full of smiley face stickers, before turning to face the young girl once more.
“Here, this should be enough, but if you need more you can always come back–”
Your sentence was interrupted when gasps erupted across the attendees, their eyes beelining to the front of the building. Even other artists and servants were getting a peek at the commotion as a crowd gathered at the main entrance.
Anna leaned outside of your display, her eyes squinted trying to get a look at what was going on. You stood next to her, straining your ears to catch any words from the whispers emanating from the onlookers.
‘Someone’s here.’
‘Could it be…?’
“Oh my Satan… it’s—!’
“Your Majesty!” A voice boomed above the crowd from a tall demon in a blue tuxedo squeezing through the guests, his little management pin sparkling gold as he moved to greet the newest arrival.
You tensed immediately, frozen in place, mouth agape, while Anna only became giddy beside you.
“Did you hear him?! I think the King is here!” She bounced excitedly beside you. 
“The King..?” You whispered in disbelief. 
“Y’know, Lucifer Morningstar? You’ve seen his royal portrait, haven’t you?”
‘Oh, I've seen much more than that,’ you wanted to reply.
Anna quickly scampered off, intent on getting a closer look at the grandiose figure as she moved through the murmuring nobles.
You could see his hat bobbing behind the much taller figures as he moved with grace, the hint of his white overcoat, and the red glint from the apple on top of his cane.
“Yep, it’s me! Your devilishly handsome King, come take a closer look if you don't believe me—woah there, not that close! Personal space still exists, thanks.” 
You watched the top of his white hat move amongst the bodies of gawking demons, as they parted to let him stroll through.
It wasn’t until he came into view, with that all-too-familiar charming smirk that made your knees wobble. With those soft curls that framed his face that shimmered like the sun, making your heart flutter.
His yellow gaze scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t able to take a very long look before the blue-suited demon approached closer, bowing low before he cleared his throat.
“It is truly an honor to be in your presence once again, Your Majesty.”
“Of course it is,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly, straightening his posture.
“We didn’t expect to see you here tonight! It’s been a long time since our gracious ruler has been to our event… but nobody had any problem with that!” The demon quickly interjected, laughing nervously as he pulled on his collar. 
“Yes, well, I've been very busy these past few years. Doing… important things, of course!” Lucifer nodded quickly, chuckling lightly as he spoke loudly, “So, I thought I’d drop by and take a look around!”
“What a wonderful idea!” The event coordinator clasped his hands together, before beckoning the fallen angel to walk along, “If you’ll please follow me, Your Highness, I can take you through everything we have to offer.”
Lucifer followed behind the man, all eyes on the floor tracking his every movement. Most lowered their heads in respect as he passed, the Goetia’s in attendance much more enthusiastic about it.
Quickly, you backpedal into your booth, your head whipping across the walls for any imperfections in your setup as your mind raced.
What was he doing here, as himself?! Why didn’t he tell you before, and what was his plan?
When Lucifer arrived at the first artist down the long line of make-shift walls, you could barely hear their conversations now that they’d stopped yelling so loudly
The artists bowed, their hands rubbing together in a soothing motion as they greeted their King. You heard the three chatterings lightly, as sweat beaded down your forehead in anticipation for him to get to you. Your booth was about five little cubicles down, he’d be at your ‘doorstep’ in no time.
Lucifer listened with only mild interest as each artist walked him through their different pieces. His gaze kept shooting away, looking for you, no doubt since you were busy hyping yourself in the corner. 
Assuming he didn’t walk up to you and go ‘Hi babe!’ he would most likely treat you like everyone else here, and you’d have to do your best to keep suspicion low. That was hard, when his close proximity always sent goosebumps rippling across your skin, or your demeanor to change instantly.
He just had that energy that warmed you to the core, and you always ended up stupid and giggly by the end of the night in his presence. Hopefully, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people would keep you cool.
It wasn’t until you could hear him in the display right next to you, did you shuffled to the front, hands clasped in front of you with a wide, professional smile. The patrons buzzed around you, most of them still eyeing the King with interest and awe, but some began slowly dispersing as they continued their tour around the building. 
“And here, is one of our newest participants in the event. I believe they specialize in paintings of multiple forms, I’m sure you will enjoy their work, Your Majesty.”
You locked eyes with Lucifer just as he rounded the little corner to your booth, that charming smile only curving upward an inch as his gaze softened at the sight of you. 
He stood beside the event coordinator who turned to you expectantly, his eyebrows raised as he waited for.. something.
You stared at him for a moment, before your posture straightened with a grimace and you leaned forward in a bow. This time, you made sure to keep your hand tucked beside you when doing so.
Shit, this was supposed to be you meeting the King of Hell for the first time! Your relaxed posture probably looked pretty insolent to the coordinator, thankfully, Lucifer paid no mind to any misstep ettique.
“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to be graced in your presence,” you spoke sweetly, smile widening more awkwardly now.
“It sure is, my dear subject,” Lucifer modded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze rose from you to the walls behind your figure.
“Golly, is this your art?” He gasped, placing a hand on his heart as his eyes drank in the pieces hanging around you.
“Yes…” you replied slowly, quirking a brow at his dramatics.
“Boy, let me tell you, these paintings are absolutely exquisite!” Lucifer gave a chef’s kiss, a loud smacking noise as his lips left his fingers.
His eyes flicked to the small crowd that was still congregating around your display, as they listened to his words intently. The fallen angel met your gaze once more, and gave you a sly wink, your eyes widened at his gesture.
‘Don’t you dare..’ You growled through a glare right as you saw that mischievous glint sparkle in his eye, he only stared back at you defiantly, before that devilish smirk curved even higher.
“Are you sure you aren’t Leonardo Da’Vinci; one of the greatest, most famous artists from the Renaissance?” Lucifer continued, twisting his head a tiny bit to subtly address the staring demons behind him. 
The figures around you leaned in slightly, their eyes darting across your work with renewed interest as they listened to their King praise you with such grand words. Even the event coordinator lifted his head to get a better look at a painting, his gaze fixed intently as he practically breathed in the scene on the canvas.
“That is very generous of you, I’m sure you’ve seen much better in all of your years attending something like this.”
“Nope!” He replied confidently, and a few demons that were milling about stopped to get a look at your booth.
“Well, it seems like His Majesty is quite pleased with the display! Shall we see what the others have to offer as well?” The coordinator piped up, clapping his hands softly as he took control of the scene once more.
Lucifer turned with a large, exaggerated toothy grin on his face as he stared at the man with fake interest. He definitely didn't want to leave, but with so many eyes on him, expecting him to play the role he had so meticulously designed all his years in Hell, he could only begrudgingly oblige to follow the man out of your booth.
He turned his head slightly, shooting you an unreadable look as you watched him move on to the next booth.
It wasn't until you turned your attention away from Lucifer, did you caught a figure walking towards you, the man’s eyes trained on you as moved. He was about your height, muscles showing through the tight, green dress shirt that clung to his thick frame. 
He had blonde hair, but not as bright as Lucifer's, more of a dirty blonde with hints of a red undertone. He resembled a man enough, other than a few animalistic features like the sharp fangs, pointed ears, and the black goat horns sticking out of his forehead.
“Oh, hello!” You greeted, smiling at the new demon who strolled up to you, “Interested in purchasing something?”
“Actually, I’m one of the people that’s doing the judgments tonight, the name is Ezekial.” The man smiled confidently, lifting a hand towards you to shake. 
You shook it, your smile faltering on how sweaty this guy's palm was. When you tried to release your hand from his grip, he let his fingers linger against your skin before pulling away.
“Listen, I personally think your art is fantastic. Such care towards your work, honestly, elicits such emotions, like that one-–” 
Ezekiel pointed behind you, to another small painting of two people in a deep kiss, their lust obvious as the man practically ate at the woman’s face. You turned back to him with a quirked brow as he sidled closer, and you could see a small balding spot on his scalp as he lowered his head.
“—it really fills the room with the same kind of emotions, I’m sure even you feel that… passion looking at it right now, don’t you?”
Was he shooting your bedroom eyes right now? What a weirdo. It’s not like you could do anything about it, he was going to decide your fate tonight, and that meant keeping friendliness with the demon.
“You’re too kind,” you responded with a pleasant smile, taking a step backward, “but you’re one of the people judging tonight's event, I’m sure my work is incomparable when it comes to your own.”
“Well, now that you mention it…” Ezekiel puffed his chest slightly, sidling closer to you once more, as he began to fill you in on practically his entire life story. A tight smile crept onto your lips, and you fought not to roll your eyes.
For some reason, he also enlightened you on the multitude of women he had picked up during his career, including the two failed marriages. Did he think that was supposed to entice you to sleep with him or something?
As he droned on, your eyes peaked past his shoulder, and through the demons behind you, you caught sight of a familiar, porcelain figure staring intensely at you.
You almost burst out laughing at the deep frown on his features, as he watched Ezekial only get closer to you as he continued his conversation. His pupils were dilated, honed in on the judge’s back as if he was intent on smiting him right then and there.
The event coordinator was busy blabbing in his ear, other demons around him also trying to get his attention, but his attention was solely on you. 
Lucifer was jealous, no doubt. For some reason, that made you kinda giddy inside. The memory of what happened last time he got jealous played in your mind, the time you were thrust into a musical number before it ended in a hot make-out session.
You’ve been needy all day since speaking to him earlier in the morning, and that memory made you ache even more to feel his claws grazing up your thighs, his lips trailing down your stomach and–
Ezekiel only seemed to perk at your hot-and-bothered expression that seemed to seep through your placid smile, and his tone only deepened as he spoke to you. His arm above you, against the wall as he tried leaning seductively.
You felt the heat that was slowly building cool instantly at his demeanor. Did this guy realize he was standing around some of the most influential figures in high society? He didn’t think he was the top shit just because he was a judge, right?
When your gaze flicked back to Lucifer, his mouth was agape, eyes wide in horror as he watched the demon lean in towards you. Then, his face screwed up into a deadly frown, his hints of red peeking from his iris.
You quickly backpedaled away from Ezekial, turning abruptly right as another patron walked into your display, smiling widely in greeting. Ezekial only frowned at your sudden exit, before he was called away by another figure, irritation on his features.
You averted Lucifer’s gaze for a while, preoccupied with the larger number of demons coming up to speak to you about your paintings, their interest peaked ever since Lucifer’s little display of awe. You also noticed that your little cash pouch was continuing to bulge in size much faster than normal.
It wasn’t until your bladder began to knock on your insides did you realized how long you’d been standing there speaking with people. Your social battery was about to empty, your mouth was dry, and you really had to pee.
Excusing yourself, you crossed the floor, beelining for the short hall nestled in the back of the building. The restrooms were located there, and it was hidden from view and only accessible from two small entryways on either side. As you entered the darkened corridor, you breathed a sigh of relief, the harsh lights and the noisy atmosphere were finally drowned out by the thick wall
As you finished up in the bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to drain some of the exhaustion from your features. You were definitely going to sleep good tonight.
Right as you exited the restroom and began moving down the hall, a tall, curvy woman brushed past you, you only were able to blink before she suddenly turned to face you with interest. She had a short, blue dress that showed all the cleavage. She sent you a sultry smirk as she looked up and down your figure.
“Hey, I know you, you’re that Leonardo Da’Vinci artist, right?
“Yes, I am,” you smiled respectively, holding in a sigh.
“Well, let me just say, I think you’re work is fucking stunning, babes,” she replied with a velvet tone, the top of her thighs beginning to peak slightly from her dress as she adjusted her posture, “and, the art definitely matches the artist.”
“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, averting your gaze from her exposed skin. 
“If you ever want to recreate some of your.. erotic pieces, just give me a call, I’ll be around all night,” she purred with a wink.
“Hey, babe! You comin’ or what?” You heard a masculine voice growl from the hall’s entryway, the light illuminating from the building's overhead lights casting a thick shadow from his large figure.
“I’m coming!” The woman huffed, and she turned to you with a giggle, “I’ll see you around, cupcake.”
Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched her saunter off, your brain short-circuiting at everything that had been happening.
Groaning, you rubbed a hand roughly down your face as the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s heels faded away. How much more crazy could tonight get?
“What are you doing over here?”
You jumped at the voice, pivoting sharply to face the figure basked in shadows. It was the yellow eyes that gave Lucifer away, as he stalked forward with an unreadable expression.
Did he listen to everything? You tense for a moment, before furrowing your brows. What did it matter? It wasn’t you making any advances.
“No, what are you doing here?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he frowned at your gesture, “Here I was thinking you’d be in some kind of disguise, hiding amongst the servants or something, but then you just show up and just start running things? What happened to ‘I can’t handle big crowds’?”
“This is totally different,” he shook his head, waving his hand in a brushing motion as he leaned against his cane, “These are my most loyal subjects, who used to see me all the time when I was much more involved. Not to mention, they have class and a decent amount of manners. What I don’t like is being surrounded by depraved animals that spend their nights coked up and catching all sorts of diseases tangling with random strangers.”
He shivered at the thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought and you only sighed in defeat. Your man had a point.
“Fine, but I told you I didn’t want you to influence anything that happened tonight. That is kind of hard when you’re hyping my work up like I’m Leonardo re-incarnated.”
“Hey, those were all genuine reactions! And, I did pretend to have no connection to you. But, that was a bad idea, apparently, with all the looks you were getting right in front of my fucking face.” Lucifer growled, his fingers clenching the apple on his cane tighter as his cold gaze flicked to the corner where that woman had disappeared.
“I was not getting any looks,” you crossed your arms, huffing in disbelief. He was acting as if the whole building was ogling you, when they were clearly ogling him. 
“You were! Some of those men were practically drooling all over you, not to mention how they kept scooting closer to you. I saw it all!” Lucifer averted his gaze, staring daggers at the wall. 
He wasn’t mad at you, but he definitely wanted to throttle someone. More specifically, every man whose gaze ate up your figure hungrily while you spoke to patrons. 
Thankfully, in the darkened corner of the building,  the two of you were hidden from prying eyes for just a moment, where he could have you all to himself even for a few minutes.
“Please, you’re just exaggerating, what makes me good to look at?” 
“Your outfit!” He replied quickly, his eyes tracing your figure hungrily as he explained with delight, “God, it really brings out your curves, especially with the way it hugs your waist. It makes your eyes pop too, and I just can't stop getting engrossed in them.”
He bit his lip, the sharp point of his teeth sticking out as he seemed to muster all his strength to keep from saying anything more. As if his words would only fuel the fire that was burning inside both of you right now.
“I look that good right now?” 
“If I could have you right here, I would,” he breathed, his eyes hungry with need as he stared at you longingly.
Your skin practically sizzled with heat, and your legs felt gooey as his words filled your stomach with butterflies. This man was just good with his words, always surprising with you how his lowered voice twisted your insides and made you think all kinds of nasty thoughts.
Not to mention, you've been waiting to have him all to yourself the entire day! Was it so bad if it was only a few feet away from a large room full of nobility from across all seven rings?
Your gaze darted to an open door behind him, could that be a private room? That thought made your heart flutter, and the need to press your lips against Lucifer’s even more uncontrollable.
“Okay, then do it,” those commanding words left your lips before your brain could process the words.
“W-what? You mean right now, seriously?” The king sputtered in disbelief, you had always been vocal about privatizing your sex life, but tonight, you were feeling a little… bold.
“Don’t be a pussy.” You spoke with a honeyed tone as you batted your eyelashes, swinging your hips as you brushed past him, your arm grazing his shoulder tenderly.
That tingle of energy made goosebumps erupt against your skin, and you felt Lucifer tense, his breath hitching as you moved by toward the doorway. He cleared his throat just as you crossed the dark threshold into what seemed like a storage closet. Boxes and other items were stacked against the wall, and a desk holding nothing but dust sat on the other side of the small room.
Lucifer exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in, as he followed you into the dark, dusty room. Once he stepped inside, he set his cane by the door frame and his overcoat hit the floor, before he pushed the door close behind him, locking it just in case anyone were to enter in the middle of your session. 
You brushed the accumulated dust that was on the desk, not wanting to dirty your outfit so that you’d still have to show-off in afterward. 
Once cleaned, you sit yourself on the surface while keeping your gaze fixated on the fallen angel. You watched every one of his movements, your hand supporting the weight of your body leaning back on the desk. Lucifer could practically feel his heart about to jump out of his skin as he approached your awaiting figure, his lean arms snaking around your waist before placed his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.
You fold your arms around his neck to pull him closer, fingers interlocked with his soft, blonde hair that you adore. You caught a whiff of his usual shampoo, that crisp apple aroma making your head spin and heat bloom in your stomach. 
You deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him despite already being so intimate. His teeth grazed against your lips, a light tug on your soft skin as a plea for you to allow space for his tongue to enter.
Your lips parted with a soft mewl rolling off your tongue, a familiar wet muscle instantly pushed past your lips and into your mouth. Lucifer’s tongue collided with your own, drawing a groan from him as he pressed his hips against yours. 
His erect is so obvious from a mere brush of your hips, that it almost made you giggle against his lips. He groaned from the light friction, hips involuntarily rocking against yours to get more of it. You whined into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his waist, pressing him closer exactly where you want him to be. You felt his hand creep under your shirt, his fingers caressing your flushed skin under the fabric. His touch is gentle yet possessive, almost feeling like he’s marking you from his touch alone.
“So pretty,” He mumbled against your jaw after pulling away from your moist lips. His breath hot against your skin, he pressed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Lucifer drew his tongue out and attacked the sensitive spot on your neck; that one spot that always makes your body shudder. 
He hummed against your damp skin, his teeth brutally abusing the spot by sinking deep into your skin. You moaned suddenly, fingers tugging on his hair which made his scalp burn. His hand that remained under your shirt traveled down to the waistband of your pants, cold fingers slipping through them in a teasing demeanor.
“You look so pretty in this outfit. Gonna keep ‘em on for me, hm?” His voice vibrated through your body and reached your core, clicking something inside of you. You nod eagerly, whispering a small ‘yes’ in response to his words. 
You heard a muffled praise from Lucifer before feeling him pull your pants down, pushing them until they hang on only one side of your leg. Your forehead rests on his shoulder, gaze fixated on where his hand hurriedly unbuckled his pants. Judging from how he fumbled at the zip, you can tell he has been waiting for this all day impatiently.
A whine spilled from your lips as he pressed the tip of his length at your entrance, circling it at the area to spread his pre-cum just in case he might hurt you. He’s sensitive; just from pushing the tip in, he has already let out a loud groan while leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Your breath hitched at the stretch, body twitching occasionally as he carried on pushing the rest in inch by delicious inch. 
Lucifer’s eyes screwed shut, enjoying every second of your warmth engulfing his erect that is now nicely nestled deep inside of you. Your nails clawed into him through his loose shirt, legs trembling while doing your best to adjust to his size. His tip is already pressed against that weak spot hidden inside of you, the sensation tightened the coil that formed in your stomach.
“G-gonna move, ‘kay? Tell if if you wanna stop.” He stumbled over his own words because of how good you felt, now moving his hips to thrust into you at a slow pace. You feel your walls burn, the pain bringing a sense of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Moans start spilling from your lips, your head growing into a blur as he gradually increases the pace of his thrusts.
He pushed you further onto the desk, allowing easier access to the sweet spot in you with his ferocious thrusts. His sharp teeth bite down on the flesh of your neck, lips attached to your skin as he sucked on the area continuously until dark spots bloomed. He repeated his actions, hickeys bloomed all over your exposed skin like flowers during the blooming season.
The fallen angel shows absolutely no mercy with his thrusts, fully projecting his jealousy into them instead of holding back. He rammed into you over and over again, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the small room. 
“Mine, mineminemine. All mine, yeah? Nobody can fuck you this way except me.” He growled while holding you close, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him every time he hit the spot.
“Fuck, doing so good just for me. You like it? Being fucked into a moaning mess?” 
All you could do was moan, nothing else. Words can hardly be formed in your mind let alone a proper sentence; your vision begins to turn white as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
His grin grew at the sight of your drool rolling down from the corner of your lips, feeling a sense of pride bubbling in his chest. You’re in this state because of him, everything you’re feeling currently is all thanks to him. He twitched at the thought alone, a string of curses fell from his lips as his grip on you tightened. 
He mumbled something along the lines of ‘im close,’ or ‘gonna cum,’ into your shirt before lifting his head, crashing his lips onto yours once more in a hungry kiss. The kiss is sloppy; his tongue is unable to properly move with yours and the same goes for yours. He drinks up every one of your moans from the kiss, groaning from your sweet taste that he could never get enough of.
It only took a few of his hard thrusts until you clenched tightly around him with a sharp inhale of air, body trembled violently as you came undone. Lucifer quickly caught on with you, the tightness around him pushed him off the edge, hot strings of thick seed filling you up from the insides. 
He reduced his pace significantly, now rolling his hips lazily to ride out both of your orgasms. It took a full minute before he slowly pulled out of you, watching the white liquid oozing out of you in the surrounding darkness. You both lean against each other, chest heaving heavily as the both of you try to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” you finally breathed, your face burying into his shoulder as the bliss subsided. How could a man make you come so undone in such a short amount of time? 
Lucifer placed a hot, wet kiss against your temple as the two of you slowly straightened. Your bare ass was still on the wooden desk’s surface, its cool touch welcoming to the heat still bubbling inside of you. 
Your thighs still ached as Lucifer adjusted the collar of his shirt, before he took a few steps towards an open box, piles of fabric nestled inside. Reaching in, he cleaned any stray dust from the small clothes surface, before handing it tenderly to you.
With an appreciative smile, you took it just as Lucifer walked over to grab his coat and cane. You cleaned yourself up as he straightened his bow tie, fixing his coat upon his shoulders. Before he turned to face your half-naked body as you began to change to look a bit more presentable.
“Are you sure you’re not an angel? ‘Cause those curves are otherworldly, baby,” Lucifer spoke softly as he strolled up to you. His drunken, half-lidded smile was evident on his face as his gaze traveled up your figure once more.
“Don’t you hear the stories?” You replied, honey dripping from your voice as your fingers reached his soft hair, grazing against his scalp as you pulled the strands back into his usual style, “How Lucifer was the most beautiful angel God ever made? How could I ever be similar to someone like you?”
“While I cannot argue with such a statement,” Lucifer laughed, staring adoringly at you as you fussed over his outfit, “If it were you in those paintings, instead of me, Michaelangelo would have been drooling.”
You smiled bashfully, pulling him closer for another deep kiss as you gripped his long collar. You could feel Lucifer’s smile against your skin as he peppered sloppy kisses down to your jaw, and goosebumps erupted across your skin.
Your hand clasped around his moving lips just as he was about to reach the crook of your neck, your mouth clamped shut to force down the moan in your throat as that heat in your abdomen returned slowly. 
“Please?” He whimpered against your palm.
“Later,” you replied sternly, before peeling yourself off of the fallen angel. Your arm brushed against his as you maneuvered to walk behind him. Your hand connected with his ass, and you felt him straighten before shooting you a playful glare.
“How do I look?” You asked, one hand on the room’s doorknob and the other gesturing to your figure
“Do you even need to ask? Perfect, as always.” Lucifer cooed, strolling up to you just as the door cracked open and you peeked your head.
The hallway was dark and empty, and with another quick scan, you slipped quietly into the corridor, Lucifer on your heels. 
“Well, I guess we should split up to not draw any suspicion. I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went.”
“They can wait,” Lucifer brushed your comment off, “You’re more important than these feet-kissers.”
You playfully hit him in the arm in scolding, and he grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as you began to walk towards the large doorway at one end of the long hall.
“I’ll see you later, mon amour!” He called after you, before you heard the sizzle of his magic as he no doubt teleported away back into the crowd. 
You sighed happily, adjusting your outfit once more as you crossed the threshold. The glaring lights cause you to squint your eyes as the volume in the room picks up, voices piling over one another until they become an inaudible mess in your head.
You only took a few steps before the dollish face of Anna appeared, a large smile on her face as she beelined for you. She was waving her arms excitedly in the air, trying to get your attention as she cut through the moving silhouettes.
She was moving so fast you thought she was going to ram into you, and you froze, tensing as she reached your figure. Her delicate hands curled around your forearms, shaking you slightly as she bounced in place. You stared wide-eyed at her eagerness.
“I’ve been looking for you, for like ever!” She finally squeaked, her smile only widening as she met your gaze.
“Why?” 
“Didn’t you hear?! You won!!” 
Your heart stopped, your breath hitching, as her words processed in your mind. You what? 
The loud voices were drowned out, replaced by your jumbled thoughts. Won what? The award for ‘Best in Show’, that little prestigious trophy that had sat patiently at the judge's table all night? That was impossible! There were so many better artists here, surely someone else deserved the spot! 
Yet, the way giddiness began to bubble up inside you, and your lips cracked into a wide, stupid grin at Anna’s words only made you a teensy bit thrilled to have taken the position instead of someone else. Was all your hard work finally paying off, was your creative voice finally going to be heard?
“I won..?” You weren’t sure whether to start crying with joy or run away and hide. 
“Yes!! I’m sure the judges are waiting for you so they can present the award, c'mon we have to go! Everybody is probably eager to congratulate you!” 
You felt Anna tugging at your arm, beckoning you to follow her across the room. Your eyes lifted into the crowd, before resting on that familiar, porcelain face that stared back at you.
His brows were raised, a smirk on his lips as he silently whispered ‘I told you so,’ through his gaze. He shot you two thumbs up, his eyes shining with pride. Not for him, but for you.
You sent him a warm smile, before his figure was obscured as another demon approached him. You turned your attention back to Anna, letting her lead you through the small groups of demons.
Your heart fluttered, that exhaustion that was ticking at the back of your mind fading as renewed vigor pushed your feet to move faster. And soon, you’d finally be alone once more with Lucifer, the most vibrant stroke on the canvas of your life.
As you walked, you passed by an elderly figure ambling across the room. You caught a brief glimpse of his features, enough for the recognization of the famous painter hit you in the face, making you almost halt in your tracks.
Was that Caravaggio?
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sorry this was late :(!! i took an extra day or two to chillax and celebrated my bday, but i hope the word count made up for that!
and HUGE thanks to @silasours for writing the smut!! i was not feeling it this time but i really liked the idea and thankfully they swooped in to help! go check out their page if you want to see more hazbin works like that :)!!
also, i just realized i’ve written 100k words in less than 2 months?! like 😵‍💫 wowza that’s a lot! a whole ass book lmao
let me know your thoughts, have a wonderful day! 🦢
tag list 🏷️
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senmiyaazx · 7 days
Text
SOLIVAN X READER
“Wanna be your muse ...”
cw: none // not fully proofread
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Scratch, scribble, scribble .....
Hm, that's not quite right.
Using the end of the pencil, you rubbed away at the paper— erasing the imperfections in your art.
You were completely distracted. Whatever your professor was saying, you didn't care. It's boring and you could probably just search it up the next time he gives you homework.
You yawned, looking down at your drawing. A blush crept to your cheeks as you realize you've been drawing him for the past few days.
Him— your partner and new friend, the guy whose existence you weren't even aware of until a few days ago, the one who went unnoticed by everyone and you despite him being in the same class as you. Solivan Brugmansia, or rather, Sol.
He's pretty darn cute. Despite his intimidating appearance — from the black clothing and that scary gaze he had — he was actually really sweet, and kind. At least to you.. and Hyugo. But he's softer towards you.
You've noticed the way he stared for longer than he should, lingering touches that shouldn't be there, his dark gaze whenever he sees you interacting with Crowe, or anyone else for that matter. He also seems to like you a lot. Perhaps too much, but you don't really mind. Not when he's been oh so generous to you.
You groaned. No, that doesn't look like him. Try again.
Right. After you became partners, you couldn't help but continue to draw him even if it was unrelated to the project you both worked on. At first, it was mere excuses — you told yourself 'It's just for practice'. It's totally not because he's so pretty you can't help but want to admire him! Sounds weird, doesn't it? That's why it's for practice.
Fuck it. He's so damn pretty.
But your memory sucked, and you need a reference. How though? It's not like you can just ask him for a selfie, that'd probably sound suspicious. Plus, you're in class right now, and you really want to finish this sketch.
You sucked in a breath. Surely one look will be enough. Just one quick look?
You purposefully dropped your eraser on the floor, pretending it was an accident. You took a moment before picking it up, and as you did, you subtly turned your head to where Sol was— though to your surprise, he was already looking at you. Your gaze locked with those vermillion eyes, your own ones widening slightly before you immediately sat back up with an embarrassed blush.
'Can't believe he was already looking..' You sighed. 'This is so embarrassing.'
At least you managed to get a look. You can already envision his image in your head. It wasn't long before you got back to sketching.
You finished after a while. A smile was brought to your face as you stared at your creation, proud.
You rested your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion. You closed your eyes, feeling tired. Just a few more minutes until..
...
Someone was shaking you awake. When did you fall asleep?
You raised your head from your desk, blinking sleepily.
"Sol..?" You mumbled.
"Morning, sleepyhead. You fell asleep." Sol's voice rung in your ear like a melody. You never realized how soothing his voice sounded, despite the teasing tone it held. You thought about how nice it'd be to hear it every morning.
"Did you get enough sleep last night? You look really tired." His tone switched to a concerned one, more like a doting mother.
"Yeah, just forgot to have my morning coffee." You grinned sheepishly, grabbing your things. "Thanks for waking me up."
He only gave a hum before a shy expression took over his features, a hint of blush blossoming on his cheeks.
He seems to be holding something in his hands before giving it to you. Is that your test paper? No, wait, is that the sketch you made earlier?!
"A-ah! Sorry-" You quickly took the paper from him (albeit rather aggressively), immediately shoving it into your bag as hot shame washed over you.
He chuckled which only served to stir your embarrassment even further.
"It's fine." He sucked in a breath. "You're really cute." He mumbled.
"What did you say?" You perked up, still trying to calm your racing heart. Why were you so flustered anyway?
"Nothing," He smiled shyly. "You know, if you ever need... references, you could always ask me. I don't mind.. I'd do anything for you after all." He whispered that last part to himself. You didn't even care - or notice it, you were too embarrassed.
Your eyes widened. Wait, was he serious? He's being for real?
Nonetheless, you couldn't bring yourself to deny because you probably would've never had the courage to ask. "Right, aha, I'll definitely take you up on that offer, thanks, uh.. bye!" You rushed out of your seat, the paper nearly crumpling in your hands.
Sol watched as you bolted away. He's completely aware of the way his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He couldn't help but grin. How could he not? You were thinking about him. That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter and yearn for more.
He smiled shakily, leaving the classroom after a while, thoughts filled with you as he walked through the hallways.
You're.. so cute. So damn cute.
———
a/n: this was supposed to come with three characters: sol, crowe and casper (date with death), but it's 4am and I'm not sure when im able to write for the other two since i have a busy schedule. i already have an idea though, just need to write it out :)
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bb-eilish · 9 months
Text
Blooming Eyes
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pairing; collegeathlete!anakinx flowershopworker!reader
summary; After accidentally knocking over another student with her painting, Y/n seems to have caught the eye of him. The same eyes that stare at her, blue and intense have trapped her, so she does what she does best; paint.
word count; 14.5k
warnings; P in v sex, multiple smut scenes, rough sex, romantic sex, mutual pining, obsession, dirty talk, name-calling, dumbification, making out( so much kissing omg), cunnilingus, creampie, etc etc
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Working and going to school wasn’t fun, Y/n’s sure nobody has ever said it was. Though, her job was, oddly, pretty nice. She worked in a flower shop for Christ's sake, she was around nice people, and even nicer flowers.
School on the other hand was not as enjoyable. Y/n was in school for painting, and because of these two things people were able to figure her out easily. A sensitive woman who owns multiple cats, some even going as far as labeling her a "crazy cat lady" and trying to decipher her mental health for some reason.
She didn't let that bother her though, she lived a cozy life and for that she was grateful.
"I'll miss you." She pouts at her cat. The fluffy white one, Cherry, brushed against her legs as Y/n crouched, she briefly licked Y/n's fingers before rubbing her furry face against them. The woman smiled softly at the white fluff ball as she swept her hand down the cat's furry back.
"Don't think I forgot about you Mr. Grumpy pants." Y/n smiles as she steps over to her other cat, the broody void named Bear. He was curled up on top of her couch cushion, hiding his pouty face as she baby-talked. "I'll miss you too." The black cat uncurled to stretch and play with Y/n's fingers. She finally grabbed her backpack, the large canvas she had to drag to class, and waved at the two cats before opening and shutting the door to her apartment.
Traffic wasn't too bad, though, she wouldn't mind if it was. She enjoys blasting music and singing as loud as she wants. It was therapeutic. But, as she was pulling into the parking lot infront of the art building, she turned a little too sharp and the canvas in her backseat went flying. A mantra of "shit shit shit shit shit" flew out of her mouth as she parked and prayed it didn't break. Y/n whips around and inspects the item before slumping down in relief.
Now, the worst part, getting this monstrosity into class without injuring her fellow classmates.
"Sorry, 'scuse me." She mutters as she sidesteps and tip-toes through a crowd of people. A large clock sits on the wall of the building she's facing and, of course, it reads ‘9:29’. Her class starts at 9:30, she knows college professors are more lenient but she didn’t get that kind of teacher.
She loves her art class, absolutely adores it, but the teacher is a bit of a stickler and will kick students out if they're more than a minute late. Y/n thankfully spots the brick building just in time. Suddenly, "Go long" is yelled from beside her. Whipping her head around, she spots a student who is obviously an athlete and rolls her eyes, turning back to look in front of her.
But that would, simply, be too easy. Her canvas completely bulldozes over somebody as she turned around for half a second. "Oh my god." She spoke, not at the man on the ground, but at the freshly ripped hole right in the center of her painting. Terror paints her face as she stares at it. "Watch where you're going maybe." One of the guy's friends says.
"My painting.." She says as the man on the ground gets up. She's about to apologize when the clock from before chimes at 9:30, her eyes widen more, if possible, so she offers a mumbled "Sorry" before scrambling off.
"Are you okay, Anakin?"
"Yea...I'm fine." He lets out, still a little stunned. Not at him being basically tackled, but at her. He's never seen her before, but he couldn't think of a better way to run into her. He shakes his head and catches up with his friends, momentarily turning behind him to see if he's able to catch a glimpse of the canvas through the crowd of students.
Y/n successfully makes it on time, she flies down into her seat after setting the canvas on the project table.
"Nice to see you all again." Her teacher begins, but Y/n tunes him out. As she relaxes into her chair she can't help but think back to the guy she rushed into, guilt fills her as she realized she never properly said sorry. She can't even recall what the guy looks like.
--
Later that day she walks around the flower shop, fixing up and watering some of the plants. It's so relaxing, she smiles at each one before moving on to the next. Soon the door swings open to a rowdy group of boys, all of them well over 6'0 as they leer over the shelves of flowers. She catches a bit of their conversation, "What do you think she would like? I know I fucked up, flowers will help, trust me. Girls eat that shit up." She rolls her eyes at that, continuing to care for the various flowers.
Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes catch her, they continue to lock onto her, even when she disappears into the backroom.
The boys ring the bell on the desk, a little too much and a little too rough. She licks her teeth in annoyance as she steps out to the checkout counter. There's about 4 of them and she'd rather be buried alive than have to talk to them. It's unbelievably intimidating as they stare at her while she's checking out the bouquet of flowers they settled on.
"That'll be $15.99." She mutters, looking up and making eye contact with one of them. His eyes are intense, but not in the same way as the others. She feels hooked, almost like she was lured into a trap. She gulps quietly before looking back down, putting away the money, and offering them change.
"Have a nice day and come again." She says, the last part coming out as they stare at each other once more. They only look away after the door opens and closes again. She's not sure if he looks back at her because she turns and zips into the backroom.
Friday, finally. She doesn't have school today, she only works. Her shift doesn't start until 4.
So, until then, she sits and does nothing. It's wonderful, she adores laying on her couch with her cats. Today was a bit different though, the stranger's eyes appeared in her head at every turning corner. It brought along a wave of goosebumps and quick heartbeats. Y/n has no idea why she's so drawn to him, but she is and it has completely blindsided her.
"Alright guys, I'll be home soon enough." Is said to her cats, more for herself honestly. Her shift went per usual, the people were back to being polite, no rowdy men who are incredibly enticing.
The next day, though, was unusual.
The bells she adores chime and ring as she enters the shop, checking in and greeting Marleen, the store owner. "Anything interesting happen recently?" Y/n asks, trying to make conversation as she gets out the watering can for the flowers. Marleen walks behind the cash register as she thinks, "Kind of, a man came in here and walked around for a little bit the other day, didn't buy anything, and then sat outside on the bench for another 10 minutes before leaving."
Y/n furrows her eyebrows, "That's strange." The conversation ends there as she goes to the back of the green house outside and fills up the can, dragging it back and watering the flowers.
An hour or two goes by before a few people come in, she's snipping some of the leaves as one of them gets her attention. The bell chimes once more behind her but she doesn't look. "Can I help you?" She asks, turning towards the man with a smile on her face. "Yes, would you happen to know anything about taking care of plants?"
She smiles brighter at that, "I do, whats the problem?"
"Well, my cactus is starting to turn a darker green or black color at the bottom and it's becoming softer. I'm not sure what to do." The man says, nibbling his lip. Y/n nods before asking, "How often do you water it per week?"
The man raises his eyebrows, "I water it everyday, is that bad?"
She hums, "There's your issue, root rot. Since it's the spring you only need to water it about every 10 days, that should clear it up. If the rot is more severe you might need to repot and re-soil it."
"I see, thank you so much!" She smiles as they part ways, she goes back to snipping the last of the leaves before retreating back to the backroom to drop off the scissors and then to the counter, waiting for anyone to check out. She spaces out for a second before noticing someone walking up to the front of the counter.
"Hello, did you find everything okay?" She spews off automatically before looking up, seeing it's the man from the other day. Not the loud, obnoxious one, the one with the intense blue eyes.
He softly smiles, "I did." His voice is deep, but inviting and easy to listen to. She grabs the small potted succulent he placed onto the counter before grabbing the scanner and scanning the bottom. She catches his outfit, a black baggy t-shirt and acid-wash black jeans. The simpleness only added to his overall appeal.
"You sure know a lot about plants." He starts, smiling at her. "You must have a lot at home."
She laughs before telling him the price, "I don't actually, I have cats so y'know." She smiles while the man swipes his card, "It'll ask you if you want to add a tip and then you can sign." She says, regarding the card reader. He nods before tapping it a few times and dragging his finger along the screen.
"You look like the type to have cats." He says as he puts his card away, "Is that bad?" Y/n lightly teases. He shakes his head no, "Not at all, it's cute."He says, momentarily reading her name tag. "I'll be sure to come back and ask you for advice if anything happens ." Her heart practically stops in her chest as she laughs, "I'll be expecting you, have a nice day."
"You too, Y/n."
She swallows, watching him leave. "Oh my god." She whispers, she could fill out a diary about him and they only just met. So, thats exactly what she does.
When she returns home, she makes a B-line for the new pocket-sized sketchbook she recently bought. She flips past the drawings of flowers and settles on an empty page. Getting out a pencil and drawing the one thing she remembers the most, his eyes. The intensity of them, his brow bone, she makes sure she incorporates the way they make her feel as well. She even busts out her colored pencils for the blue of his irises.
She would feel embarrassed if she didn't feel a physical feeling before drawing his eyes, her fingers tingle as she draws them, again and again. They stain page after page, some colored, some not. But they all make her feel the same way. When she deems it out of her system for the time being, she checks her clock, stunned to see it was way past 12:00.
But that's okay, the shop isn't open on Sundays.
Her dreams that night were surreal, she fell into his eyes, literally, like they were a hurricane, they swirled her further and further into him. She drowned in his eyes and wouldn’t mind if she did in real life too. When she awakes, there's a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. That day she tries her best to get into her homework and not the alluring customer from her job. At one point she spaces off and doodles along the sides of her psychology homework, it lasts a few moments before she realized what she drew. The same pair of eyes that have been tormenting her, stare back from her homework.
"I'm going crazy." She mumbles, laying her head on the table. Y/n picks herself up after a minute or so. Scribbling down the answer to the last few problems, she throws the paper in her folder and sits down on her couch, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. She's not really sure what's going on with her, she doesn't even know his name. His eyes though, the way they stared at her, brought out a feeling like no other. She decides to occupy herself with tv until she goes to bed, she has art class tomorrow and is well aware of the homework her teacher assigns on Mondays.
Pulling into her parking space, she makes a mental note on the art supplies she has to buy. The faint thought of taking her drawings of him to the next level startle her. Is this creepy? She hopes not. It's truly addicting to think about him.
"Happy Monday, everyone. As you're probably expecting, I have an assignment for you." Sighs are heard through the class as he keeps going, "Next Monday you will turn in a painting on something that moves you. Doesn't matter what, but make it have meaning." He finishes. Y/n thinks for a moment about what she'd make, she can feel it at the back of her mind though. She doesn't have to really think that hard about it.
Her job was quiet, only two people came in during the 3 hours she's been there. Her shift ends in 10 minutes and she's excited to pick up some new art supplies, creativity is fresh on her mind, it has the tips of her fingers tingle. So much so, she grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and gets to practicing the same pair of eyes she's come to perfect.
The bells chime and she lets out a "Welcome in." As she usually does. She doesn't look at the door as she shades in the pupil of the eye, she can already see his likeliness shining through the paper. She continues adding details to his eyebrows as she senses something.
"Wow, that's amazing." A deep voice says from over her shoulder. Y/n jumps about 6 feet in the air and just barely keeps in her squeal of terror. He stands back and chuckles, "Didn't mean to scare you, you okay?" He asks, putting a comforting hand on her back.
"Oh yea, I'm fine. And thank you." She tries her best to seem not panicky and caught red handed.
"Can I see it?" He asks her, nodding towards the pad of paper. Okay, now it's time to panic. She can't say no, that would be off putting. Maybe he won't notice the resemblance? She inhales, "Sure, here." She scoots over the paper to him. Her heart stutters in her chest and her palms grow clammy the longer he stares at it.
"These seem familiar." He pauses, she could honestly throw up right now, this can't be happening. "I can't put my finger on it."
She exhales, relief settling over her shoulders as he moves back to the front of the small counter, she shuffles the paper onto the shelf below the register, hoping he doesn't connect any dots.
"I actually came here to ask you something. I'm in botany right now and it's not looking too good for me, I saw how good you are with plants, so I was wondering if you would tutor me? ." Y/n widens her eyes, what did she do in her past life to be rewarded like this?
"Oh, yea, I can do that. When are you free?" She's dreamed about asking him that, different context though, usually it's after he declares his love for her and wants to get married. Tutoring is good too though.
"I'm not working at the moment so any time that works for you probably works for me." He smiles, the motion adds a matching expression to her own face.
"Tomorrow at 6:00?"
"Perfect, does my place work? I'll give you my number." He tells her, waiting eagerly for her to reply.
"I can do that, and here." She grabs her phone from her back pocket. Passing it to him, her bottom lip becomes trapped under her front teeth. Their fingers brush against each other’s as he takes the device from her. Y/n swallows, glancing everywhere but him as he continues. "Here." He passes it back to her, he even put in his name. "Anakin." She states looking up at him. There's a gleam in his eyes, she's not sure what it is but it's accompanied by a teasing smile.
"That's me. Well, I just came here to run that by you, thank you again. I'll talk to you later?" He leans on his hands that are flat on the counter, not so subtly towering over her. The intensity in his eyes comes swooping back as she looks up at him. They trace her very being and it feels like she's forgotten how to breathe.
"I'll make sure to text you after my shift." She smiles at him to the best of her ability, it's hard though, she feels like the only person in the world as he looks at her. It's not a bad feeling, not at all, it makes her feel warm and special.
"I'll be looking forward to it." He let's her know as he walks to the door, turning around to speak to her.
When he leaves and is out of her line of sight, she crumbles. Y/n sits down behind the counter to catch her breath. Her face probably looks like a tomato right now, but she doesn't mind-Y/n has bigger problems. Like having to text him. What should she say?
'Hi' sounds too uninterested.
'Hello' sounds too formal.
'Hey' sounds too much.
She decides she'll cross that bridge when she gets there, she has another hour behind the counter before she can leave.
Turns out, that hour was pure agony. She spaced out the entire time and it STILL felt like years. But, it's bittersweet. As she sits in her car, face lit by the screen of her phone, the empty message bar sits there, she's typed nothing. Y/n knows she's being dramatic, so she huffs and types against her will.
"Hey, this is Y/n."
Then she basically throws her phone into the passenger seat and takes off. The volume of the radio blasts as she grips the steering wheel with a new found urgency.
Just when she opens her door she remembers the supply store. "Goddamnit." She swears she'll go tomorrow.
"Hi, Babies." She greets her cats as they hang around her legs.
It's not very late so she decides to start on her art project. She has a closet full of canvas', so she flips through them. What would make Anakin's eyes pop the most? Y/n doesn't know why she does this to herself, but she picks the biggest one she owns. This time, though, if it rips, she might attack somebody.
She lays the canvas out on her floor, an array of different black and gray pencils sit around her.
She closes her eyes for a moment, visualizing earlier that day. How his eyes pierced her, how he looked down at her. Blindly, she searches for a pencil. The feel of it on her fingers felt amazing, she cracks open her eyes and gets to work. His eyes fill the entire thing in no time and she feels whole. It didn't take long for her to fully sketch out everything, as she gazes at her newest obsession, it sends a jolt of electricity down her back. She breathes before picking up her phone, lungs soon deflating as she sees a text.
'Thought you forgot about me for a second haha'
She spots the time it was sent, 1 hour ago.
She scrambles to open the message app and type actual words.
'I could never and sorry by the way. I was working on my art project, it really cuts me off from the world lol'
He responds a second later;
'You really are a tortured artist lol'
'Here's my address by the way-->'
Y/n knows she'll have to put that into her gps, she's not the best with directions.
'Thanks, I'll be there at 6. Make sure you have the homework you're struggling with and the class textbook'
'I gotchu'
The conversation ends there, she can finally breathe.
School was, well, school, nothing ever happens in her math or english classes. Per usual, her job was the most exciting part of her day that didn't involve Anakin.
So, when she leaves work and heads to the supply store, she picks up the right paint and decides if she needs more brushes or not. As she tosses them in her backseat, she checks the time on her phone, "You have to be kidding me." She grumbles, 5:50. Her fingers quickly punch in his address before she's pulling out of the parking lot. He lives about 15 minutes away and it makes her kind of want to drive off the bridge she's currently driving over.
She speeds the entire way there, thankfully arriving 13 minutes later instead of 15.
In her scrambled state she forgets who's door she's knocking on for a moment, the fear of being late taking over her mind completely. So when Anakin opens the door she grips the wall beside her for support. "Well well, seems you're about 14 minutes late, tsk tsk." He teases as he holds the door open for her.
"I'm so sorry, I had to run to the store to get more paint." She offers, slipping her shoes off.
"Art project you were talking about last night?' Anakin asks, closing the door. Y/n nods, muttering a 'Yea'.
"When am I gonna be able to see it? If it's taking so much of your time it must be good."
Her eyes widen, he wasn't able to decipher the quick sketch at her job, but he would absolutely tell with her painting. She tries to hide her panic, "Maybe if you pass botany." She teases, following him to wherever he's set up at. They come up to his dining room table, papers and textbooks are arranged nicely, it makes her smile.
He takes a seat and pats the one next to him, "C'mon Ms. Artist. Tell me about plants."
She giggles as they begin.
Everything is going well, he's getting questions right and seems fairly knowledgeable on the topic.
"Are you sure you need help? You're doing great, I could hire you at my shop." He gives her a shrug and a laugh, the topic shifting to normal conversation after a little.
"You have two cats?" He asks, body facing her as he leans on an arm.
"Yup, Cherry and Bear, both pieces of my heart." She expects him to laugh at her for saying that, poke fun at her for caring so much for them. But he smiles, "That's cute, I can't lie. Do you have any pictures?" Y/n almost misses his question, her ears still perked up at his compliment.
"Oh, uh, yea." She grabs her phone in her back pocket, swiping through her pictures until she lands on one. Cherry lays on her chest while Bear sits behind her, his head pressed up against the side of her face. It still warms her heart looking at it.
As she shows him the photo, she gauges his reaction. A moment passes. "Wow, that's so cute" He's mumbles, drinking in the photo as she pulls it away, "I know right, they both have such cute faces."
"Oh yea, your cats are cute too."
She laughs at that, trying to not let his obvious flirting ruin her composure right now. As Y/n stares at the photo, the time in the corner of the device catches her attention. "I should go, it's getting late." She says softly, stacking the papers they went over, neatly. She stands and pushes the chair in, until a hand comes up to hers, stopping her from getting too far.
"When are you free again?"
"What, you wanna talk about my cats some more?" She laughs, soon looking up at him again as he stands. The hand on hers doesn't move, only squeezes for a second. A laugh leaves him as he looks away for a moment, a smile present on his face
"No tutoring this time, I was wondering if you just wanted to hang out? No plants."
Her eyebrows raise, "Oh, seriously?"
"If you don't want to thats okay-"
"No!..no, I, that would be nice." She stutters out, swallowing. The hand on hers maneuvers so they're hands are interlocked. She would've peaked down if not for the way he was looking at her. It's like a switch for him honestly, the intensity in his eyes flood back and she has to remind herself to stand correctly.
Anakin sucks in his bottom lip as he stares at her face, soon settling on her lips. He takes the first step, backing her into his table. Their fingers split apart as he leans his hands on the edges of the furniture, blocking her in. "I honestly can't get enough of you, each time I see you it's not enough." He whispers against her parted lips, his right hand coming up to cradle her waist.
"Anakin." She breathes heavily.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, lips brushing against hers.
Y/n gulps, nodding as she gazes at his eyes then lips.
He doesn't wait a second before connecting with her skin, gently, lightly. The kiss progresses, the last hand on the table drifts to the base of her neck, loosely gripping the skin. Y/n seriously can't get over how big he is, he's so broad and tall. She feels like he could swallow her up with ease and it has her knees weakening.
They eventually drift apart, lingering near each other until he backs up and lets her out of his cage.
"Here." He mumbles, grabbing her hand and leading her to where her shoes sat. She slips them on without tying them.
"Text me when you get home?" Anakin asks, leaning his hand against his door frame as she stands on his porch. A soft chuckle escapes her, "Sure." Before she goes, he leans in, placing a hand on her cheek and leaving a sizzling goodbye kiss on her lips.
"Bye."
After letting him know she got home safe, she pretty much passed out, she's never been through so much in such a short period of time.
She wakes up to a few texts, and each and everyone of them drive her teeth deeper into her, poor, bottom lip.
'Good morning'
"I had a lot of fun last night'
'What are your classes today?'
Y/n composes herself as best she can before replying.
'Good morning! I had a lot of fun too, more than I've had in awhile'
"And I have two classes, psych and geometry’
The bubbles appear and she turns off her phone, closing her eyes and squealing.
'Do you wanna meet up sometime this week? if you're busy thats okay i totally get it'
She giggles at his rambling.
'I'd love to see you, is Friday okay?'
'Friday's great, wanna grab lunch? I'll pick you up'
"Sounds fun, see you then<3'
Was the heart too much? She doesn't know, it felt right in the moment. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was another one of her dreams, they're a little too convincing for her liking.
To say the week went slowly is an understatement. But, she has made good progress on her drawing, the vivid blues she used brought out his eyes incredibly. She traced the dried shadows casted onto the skin of his eyelids with her finger, she knew she was fucked.
Friday rolled around, it weighed on her psyche like a brick. Soon, though, the crippling anticipation would be over.
She scanned herself over in the mirror, "You got this, it's just the dude you're infatuated with who likes you back." Saying it out loud did not help, infact, the need to throw up starting growing. Y/n chugged some water before getting the text.
'I'm outside'
She inhaled and said her goodbyes to her cats, shakily closing the apartment door behind her. From the lobby she could spot a black car parked right in front of the stairs, she hoped it was his. It would be really awkward if she opened it and it wasn’t Anakin. Thankfully, though, it was. "Hey" He greeted, leaning his elbow on the center console, eyeing her closely.
"Where we goin?" Y/n asked, buckling in her seatbelt after she shut the door. He made a thoughtful face before saying the name of a cafe place he wanted to try. Her interested was piqued. The drive there made her giggle, the music he was playing made it very..obvious he was a college student. "What?" He asked, turning to her for a second before watching the road again, a matching smile on his face.
"You listen to fuck boy music." She pressed her hand lightly over her mouth as she laughed harder.
A look of faux offense struck his face as he let out an incredulous scoff. "Fuck boy music?" His astounded voice made the situation all the more funny, her stomach even started hurting from laughing so much. "Wow.." He murmured, chuckling some more. He bit his lip and shook his head. After that it was much easier to talk to him, he was easy to converse with surprisingly.
"What drink did you get?” He asks, taking a bite from his bagel. “An iced matcha latte with a shot of vanilla and vanilla sweet cold foam.”
He blinks at her, “Bless you.”
She laughs before taking another sip of her drink, a lock of her hair loosens from behind her ear and hangs in front of her eye. Anakin doesn’t waste a second before his hand is coming up to loop it back in place.
Y/n raises her eyebrows at his eagerness, "What? Couldn't have anything blocking that face of yours." The drink coming up her straw slowly goes back down as she freezes. A blush she hopes isn't as bad as she thinks it is, takes over her face and ears. She's really not used to a guy being this way with her. Anakin watches her, amused, he loves the way she reacts to his advances.
"What time is it? My shift starts at 4." She remembers, playing with her straw.
"2:04."
"I got time, what do you wanna do?" She wonders as he stands up and grabs the paper his bagel came with, throwing it away as they walk out. "Good question, do you wanna go back to your place?" It's an innocent enough question but she raises her eyebrows anyway, teasing him.
"Oh don't give me that look." He smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders. Leaning into her ear he says lowly, "Don't tell me you're already thinking dirty thoughts. You're so cute." His words paired with his tone, the proximity, his arm, and the intoxicating way his lips and breath brush against her ears are too much for her. "Ladies first." He says, back to his smiley self as he opens the passenger door for her.
The way back could be both worse and better at the same time. He rests a hand on her clothed thigh, he doesn't move it, but it's there, and she's acutely aware of it. It singes her skin even through her jeans. Y/n swears he's out for blood right now, she can feel her heart and it's not looking good.
As she unlocks her apartment door, she wouldn't be surprised if she just dropped dead right there.
Her cats, like always, meet her at the door, tails flicking, and cute meows spewing at random moments. Anakin's in awe as he crouches down, letting the animals smell his hands. "They're so cute."
She giggles at his expression, hanging up her purse.
Her cats warm up to him pretty fast, Bear flips over, his furry stomach on display for them both. Anakin gets his cat fix before moving on to her living room. "Very cozy, Ms. Tortured Artist." He jokes, taking a seat on the couch. Y/n laughs, finding the remote, "Oh, please. I swear everyone thinks I'm such an open book."
"That's probably because you are." He smiles, leaning back and manspreading.
"Okay then, guess something about me." She challenges, forgetting the remote to turn and face his smug expression. "Hmm." He looks up at her ceiling in thought before making an 'o' shape with his mouth, "I bet your room is either beige or pink, no in between." Her mouth opens a bit, he actually got it right. Her bedsheets are pink, maybe she is an open book.
"Well, fuck. You got me, it's pink." She laughs, shrugging.
"Of course it is, can I see it? I don't see too many adults with pink rooms." He plays it off, acting like he's completely innocent in this. Y/n nods, standing up to venture down the hallway. She creeks the door open, her lips pursed as she showed him the pink room he completely guessed right on.
"Wow, cute room. I bet you bring all the guys here, hm?" He teases, sitting on the edge of her bed, he pats the space next to him. "You're an ass." Y/n mumbles, sitting next to him. He leans over a bit, "I might be, do you have a problem with that?' He leans in more, scooting over even. He's close again like he was at his house that day.
She shakes her head, her spine tingling at the sensation of his hand wandering to her thigh. It caresses it, almost luring her she feels like. "Good." Is the last thing she hears before he kisses her again. They both lose themselves in the intimate act, need coming from both sides. It gets heavy quickly, a hand is placed around her back, pulling them closer together, the hand on her thigh has migrated to her ass.
Crash!
Anakin was honestly just going to power through it, the feel of her so eager to touch him sent him spiraling. But, of course, she pulls away.
"Give me one moment, okay?" Y/n pants against his lips, an apologetic smile already on her face. He nods, smacking her ass when she gets up. He closes his eyes and breathes, later opening them to glance around her room. It makes him feel something as he takes in the cutesy stuff around him, and that something shoots down to his jeans as they tighten ever so slightly. Stuffed animals littered her pink bed, her desk next to it had cute little stationary sets, random figurines, and a little notebook. He's not sure why it catches his attention but it does, the latch to keep it closed piqued his interest. So, without thinking, he leans for it, swiping it from the table.
The leather rubs against his warm fingertips as he unlatches it, flipping to the first page. "Predictable." He smiles, little sketches of flowers are sprinkled through out it, and the page after it. Just as he gets to the third page she walks in, immediately eyeing her demise in his hands. She snatches it from his hands the second he lays his eyes on, well, his eyes.
"You're so nosy." She laughs it off like she didn't feel her heart lurch in her chest.
"Sorry." He pauses, leaning back to look at her. A new mood swirling through his eyes, new to her at least.
"You really like drawing those eyes, huh?" He smiles, watching as she sits back next to him. "You could say that." She responds, hoping he drops it. He, thankfully, lets go of what he saw, eyeing her on her cute pink bed, the blush on her cheeks, and the timid look on her face. It’s so alluring. “Don't you think you're a little far away?" Anakin asks, ready to tackle her.
"I'm right next to you, our knees are touching."
"Yea, well, I could think of some other things I'd like to be touching other than our knees." He mumbles, loud enough for her to hear. He gazes at her face with an unbreaking stare. Scooting closer, he leans in to graze her ear with his lips.
"Seeing you all shy and blushy on your pretty pink bed really turns me on, if I'm being honest." His voice an octave lower. A moment later he stands up, a teasing smile on his face. "It's 3:10, you should get ready for work." Y/n looks at him with huge eyes, her fists still clenching the sheets under her. She nods, eyes going everywhere before landing on her lap—her mind trying to rationalize what just happened.
"Oh, right." Need has settled in her stomach, it swirls inside her as she walks past him to her closet. Her work uniform was neatly hung up like usual.
"Wow, do I get a show?" Anakin asks, amused as he takes a seat back on her bed. Y/n playfully scoffs, laying her clothes on her bed before taking his hand and guiding him through her house. "Are you kicking me out, Cutie? I thought we had something special." He jokes, putting on his shoes. "You're so annoying." She laughs, opening the door when he's done. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Gotta make sure you don't miss me too much."
"Okay, okay, get out." She laughs again, Anakin puts his arms up in faux defense as he laughs along. "I'll see you later, Cutie." He takes ahold of her chin, guiding their lips together. The kiss is definitely more than a peck, it leaves her wanting more as he pulls away. He offers her a wink before leaving down her building's hallway.
After closing the door, she slides down it. Face pressed into her knees. Images of what happened only minutes prior race through her mind, momentarily stunning her. She's never been so attracted to someone in her life. But, in love or not, she must get to work. As she's undressing to change into her uniform, she can't help but to let her mind wander. What if she did 'give him a show'?, she knows the feeling of his hands against her bare skin would be intoxicating. His already sinful mouth would be hair-raising.
Goosebumps graze over her arms and stomach as she slips on her shirt and tugs on her pants. The entire way there and her entire shift was endured with a heavy heart. She was wrapped so tightly around his finger already. The vulnerability of it all was scary though, she fell so hard and so fast. Yet, she didn't worry too much about it.
That night she lay awake. Skimming her fingers over her lips, replaying the kisses he's shared with her. A warm feeling fills her chest and abdomen as she closes her eyes. Pressing her face into the pillow as she smiles.
“Hey, listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to my game next weekend.” Anakin says, he called her only a moment ago and, obviously, she picked up pretty fast.
“You play sports?” It really wasn’t that surprising, whenever he wore short sleeves his biceps would strain against the material, she could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.
“Yea, I play football. I’d love if you came, seeing you there would be great.”
“Sounds fun, I haven’t gone to a football game since I was in high school.” She murmurs into the phone, sitting cross-cross on her floor alongside her painting.
“Well, then you probably don’t know that you’ll need to wear a cheer costume, preferably a size smaller or two.” He teases, jokingly trying to convince her. A laugh comes from her and he can picture her smile.
“Is that so? I’m not sure either of us would enjoy my ass hanging out infront of the entire school.” She chuckles, spinning her brush in the jar of water next to her, soon drying it off on a rag.
“You’re right, you should cheer me on in a more..secluded place, like my bedroom.”
“You’re too much, Anakin.” She pauses for a moment, voice becoming softer as she continues. “I’ll be there, text me what time and stuff, okay?” The man on the other end smiles, “Of course, also. I don’t have a picture of you for your contact, could you send me that one you took of you and your cats you showed me the other day?”
Her eyebrows raise, he was oddly specific. “Sure, why that one specifically?” She wonders aloud, dipping her brush into some of the paint lightly.
“I love that picture of you, I told you I thought you were cute in it.” His deep chuckle has her hand momentarily stalling.
“I thought you were just being horny, if I’m being honest.” She confesses, breathy laugh escaping her.
“Me? Horny? Absolutely not.” Anakin teases, sitting up in his bed. “I will say though, could you blame me? You do something to me, Y/n. It’s difficult not touching you at all times.” He confesses, rubbing his neck with his free hand.
“What, do you like me or something?” She could only think of a limited amount of responses. The topic of sex and all things related stunned her a bit, she wasn’t a virgin but that didn’t mean she was used to his advances or forwardness. She heard his low laugh from the line and laid her brush on the rag for the time being.
“You have no idea, it’s honestly a miracle we’ve made it this far. We haven’t even had sex yet and you’re still keeping up with me. It means a lot.” The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.
“Does that not usually happen?” She wonders if it’s too much to ask, but she’s curious. He sighs before answering.
“I don’t have the best..track record with relationships. I feel like sometimes all people boil me down to is sex, so, it’s refreshing that we haven’t done anything yet and you still wanna hang out with me.” His answer honestly made her wanna cry, she couldn’t imagine being used in such a way—multiple times.
"I'm so sorry. If it means anything, that's probably the last thing I'd ever do. I know I don't show my feelings much...but I really like you. It kinda scares me honestly." She held her breath at the confession, scared of what he'll reply with.
"Yea? You like me? What do you like about me exactly?" And there he was, back to his old teasing self. Y/n laughs loudly at his sudden change in tone.
"Do you actually want a list?" She smiles, absentmindedly grabbing her brush and twirling it in the dark-colored water.
"Oh absolutely, lay it on me, Cutie."
"Hmm, well, I really like how forward you are. You saying you'd like to see me and stuff, the guys I've dated in the past tried to be all cool and anti-feelings. It's nice knowing what you're thinking."
"How could I ever hide how I feel about you?" He sighed, running a hand through his sandy curls.
"Plus, it really helps that you're sexy." She had to say it, it had to be known. It was the truth, she couldn't be blamed. Anakin snorts at that.
"You're so cute, I just wanna pinch your cheeks." He teases, goofy smile on his face.
The call, unfortunately, ends a little after that. She has one day to finish the painting, it only needed some final touches so she was happy tomorrow was Sunday.
Said day went nicely. She finished the painting completely and couldn't be happier with it. She honestly doesn't know how she did it but she truly encompassed Anakin onto the canvas. Looking at it brought a warm feeling to her body, it swam from her heart, to her stomach, and to her limbs.
--
"Alright, there are two piles. One is the normal turn in pile, and the other is the turn in pile for the University’s art show next Friday night. Now, I will warn you, not everyone who enters will be in the show. We are looking for the best the class has to offer, if you don't get picked that's okay. There will always be more."
Y/n thinks heavily about her decision, she can't possibly pass up an opportunity like this. So, she breathes and adds it to the art show pile. She tries her best to not dwell on it too much, she knows if she overthinks she'll end up panicking and changing her decision. The teacher tells them their homework for the week, but it's nothing to fret over. Because this project was so big he only asked for some simple sketches and drawings.
By the time she makes it out of class her phone pings, an email. Apparently, her teacher for her last class of the day is sick so class is cancelled. She shrugs mentally and decides to head to the library. Her shift doesn't start for a hot minute and she could get some homework done.
She adores the library, especially this one table. It's more towards the back, it's cut off by thick shelves, little to no distraction. It's perfect for homework.
As she walks, she feels her shoulders lift. The painting hanging over her head was done. The obsession with Anakin's eyes painted into reality, it was done. A small smiles lifts her lips as she opens the door to the building the library is located in. The shelves blur together as she walks passed them, they tower over her as usual. The place is fairly empty, aside from one or two students.
She gets closer to the table and crosses her fingers, hoping it's empty. Y/n sighs in relief as she sees it vacant. Sitting in her usual seat, she sets down her backpack and drags out her computer.
Unexpectedly, her phone pings again. This time it isn't an email.
'what class are you in rn?'
Y/n smiles, giddly typing a reply.
'class was cancelled, im doing some homework in the library. it's so quiet in here it’s great’
She leaves it at that, not expecting anything to come from it. So, she plugs in her headphones and shuffles her playlist. Beginning to type her homework. Her head bops to the beat until a pair of hands squeeze her shoulders. It makes her jump, she's honestly not sure if she made a sound or not, her music was a little too loud. She tugs out the earplugs, knowing the culprit already.
"Anakin, you scared me." She breathes, smile on her face as she places a hand on her chest.
"That was kinda the point." He teases, sitting in the seat beside her. "Whatchya working on?"
"My English essay, do you not have a class right now?"
"Technically, it's not a mandatory day. Plus, I'd rather be here with you." He flirts, grabbing her hand that rests on the table. "I missed you."
She can't take her eyes off of him as he tells her that. "I missed you too." Soon, he's nodding at her headphones. "What're you listening to?"
"Oh, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, it's one of my favorite songs." She passes him one of the earbuds and restarts it.
As she continues typing her essay, they're both quiet, listening to the love song. Anakin's eyes trail up her arm, to her concentrated face, his eyes soften as he takes her in. The song adding a loving theme song to what he was feeling. She was so close to him, a mere few inches. His hand reaches out to graze her arm, skin free due to the short sleeved shirt she was wearing. It brought comfort to him that he could reach out and know she was there.
Y/n's eyes flick to him at the touch, meeting his gaze quickly.
It's silent between them, the look he's giving her would've probably had her in the hospital a week ago. She's able to keep looking at him now, even through his intense stare. Electricity crackles in the air around them, nothing else matters. Nothing else could matter.
His hand doesn't leave her upper arm as he leans in, romantically connecting their lips. The chorus starts up once again, it's fuel for the desire being poured from them. They push together harder, wanting to be one. The only reason they split is for air. But, the need for closeness is still alive and well. So, he scoots closer, wrapping her in a hug. He mumbles something in her hair, but she doesn’t hear it. The sound of their breathing and heartbeats is the only thing heard after that until Y/n speaks up.
"Do you wanna go to an art show next Friday night with me?" Her voice is quiet, almost like he'd run away if she was too loud.
Pulling away enough to look into her eyes, he answers. "Of course, I'd go anywhere with you."
--
That week they met up a few times, sometimes at school, and sometimes at random restaurants for a date. Anakin was sure he was losing his mind, he's never felt such a way for someone. He was falling for her, very hard and very fast.
After their meet up at the library, Y/n had an idea. Thinking back to when they were on the phone, what if she did wear a cheer costume. Obviously not to the game, but they could celebrate afterward. She wanted to be closer to him, needed the feeling of him. She knew Anakin wanted that too, so she was ready to make it memorable. She orders the skimpy costume off of Amazon and checks that it'll be there before Friday night.
So, when Friday morning rolls around and it ends up in her mailbox she's more than ready for what's to come.
"You're picking me up right?" She asks over the phone, the device is on speaker as she gets undressed, ready to put on the costume under her normal clothing.
"Yea..why do you sound so far away?"
"Oh, sorry. You're on speaker, I'm changing right now." It's not her intention but she'll know Anakin'll get a kick out of that.
"Are you now?"
Then, an incredibly erotic idea falls into her head. As she speaks to Anakin she snaps a picture of herself, she's not wearing anything but the photo stops right above her breasts. They were still very noticeable so she could tease him perfectly. A pout is settled on her face as her hair frames the seductive expression. She sends it and keeps talking like nothing nefarious is happening behind the scenes.
When he stops talking she does too, a smirk making its way onto her face. "Something wrong, Ani?" She's never used the nickname before, but it feels like the right moment to start.
"Fuck, Y/n. You're gonna kill me. I want you so fucking bad, oh my god." His voice is deep and strained.
She ignores the way her body reacts to that as she replies, "Whe are you gonna be here? I miss you."
"Mm, I miss you too, I'll be there in an hour. Be ready for me, yea?” The double meaning of his words tingles up her spine.
--
She checks herself over in the mirror, the small two piece barely covered anything. Her cleavage couldn't be on more of a display, especially since she paired it with her favorite push-up bra. The small, red, pleated skirt didn't even cover half of her ass, and she paired that with a matching lace thong.
The text that he was waiting for her outside came sooner than she expected so she threw on some baggy clothes and grabbed her things. Making her way to him.
Shocking to nobody, once she sat in his passenger seat he was on her. Hand on her neck as he pressed a searing kiss on her welcoming lips. It would've gone on longer if she didn't remind him of where they were going.
"You're so lucky my game saved you, I don't think I could've held myself back after that photo you sent." He threatened, pulling out of the parking lot. "Don't threaten me with a good time." She replies, taking his free arm into both of hers. She practically hugged him the entire way there.
"You wait in the stands for me, okay? I'll be looking for you." Anakin said, closing the gap between them again.
"Good luck."
--
As she sat on the lowest bench of the stand, a chill ran up her spine at the thought of what was going to happen once the game was over. The feeling tripled as she spotted him. The look on his face causing a blush to grow on her cheeks.
The game started soon after that, she never really paid attention to sports, so she didn't really know what was going on. She knew enough to get her by, though. She watched him closely, watched as he bulldozed the opposing players. He was one of the tallest on the team so he stood out well. It was unbelievably hot, she couldn't deny the way her thighs clenched together. She was more than ready for the game to be over.
During one of the breaks, he jogs up to the fence next to the stairs of the stands. Calling her over with a nod and a smile. His helmet hung on one of his fingers as he waited for her. "You're doing great." She tells him, smiling proudly.
"It's all because of you, my love." He lightly pants, leaning over the fence to kiss her. Though he tastes like sweat, she didn't mind. The opposite actually, it turned her on even more. And when they split he could see the gleam in her eyes. "As soon as I win this thing we can get outta here, how does that sound?" He moved his damp curls from his face as he spoke, it added to his undeniable sex appeal.
"Sounds good, I'll wait at the car for you afterward." Her hand reaches out to rub at his sticky biceps.
He nods before giving her one last kiss and running back to the field. She gulps, hands sweaty as she sits back down. No doubt having some eyes on her after all that.
She watches him again, this time he's carrying the ball to the other side of the field. The final touchdown of the night. He wins for their team and everyone there loses their mind. Anakin's team surges towards him in awe, she could hardly hear her own thoughts as everyone around her screams and yells. She's immensely proud of him , the need to congratulate him was strong at that point. She realizes though, with everyone jumping around her, she can't see the field. So, she stands on the bench and searches for him. A large smile on her face as she spots him. Watching him so happy made her heart flutter.
As she watches the teams leave the field she clambers down from the bench and makes a B-line for his car. She isn't waiting for long as he tries his best to get through the crowd. The second they meet he's engulfing her smaller frame, her arms wrap around his neck as they kiss probably for the 20th time that day. He's sweaty under the clothes he changed back into, it only makes her wanna take them off.
Anakin presses her back into his car's door, momentarily forgetting where they are. Y/n taps his shoulder as the sound of people talking get closer.
"You did amazing, I'm so proud of you." She praises, pressing another kiss on him.
"All thanks to you, my good luck charm. Do you wanna head outta here?" He smiles, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. She nods before slipping out from under him and getting in the passenger side, telling him to drive to her place. The ride there was pure tension, she played with his calloused hands and praised him more as they neared closer and closer to her building. Neither of them addressed the very obvious pent-up sexual tension suffocating them. Opting for letting it grow--thrive. It would pay off in a matter of time.
Her shutting the apartment door behind her signaled for Anakin to throw his self-control out of the window. He walked her backward with tight hands on her waist as they made out through her apartment, trying to get to her bedroom. Once there, he plants a firm hand on her chest and pushes her down to her bed. The sight of her looking up at him, waiting for him to please her caused more blood to navigate south within him.
“Ever since I saw your cute little room I wanted to do this. Wanted to take you in the most disgusting way possible, see you sob against your pink sheets, all because of me.” He confessed, lowering himself to hover over her.
She couldn’t deny the way that made her feel, all of her ex’s made her feel like a dumb child when they saw her room. So she felt her panties dampen and her thighs rub together at his words. Anakin smirks when he notices the movement. “You like that, Cutie? You like when I talk to you like that?” He leans in to kiss her, cutting off her answer. His skillful tongue licks into her mouth, practically going down her throat the harder he becomes. The kiss is ended with a harsh suck to her tongue.
The man above her continues his assault across her jawline and below her ear, where he begins to get messy with his kisses. He sucks and nibbles all the way down to her collarbones, where he deems she’s wearing too much clothing.
“Take off your shirt for me, Cutie.”
This is it, she gulps as she takes hold of the hem of her shirt and drags it off—showing off the top half of her skimpy cheer costume. He loudly sucks in a breath before pushing her chest back down to the bed and forcefully taking off her pants himself. He throbs in his jeans at seeing the entirety of what she’s wearing.
“What’s all this, baby?” He bites his lip, his hands roaming her exposed skin. A seductive grin takes ahold of his lips as he drinks her in.
“You said you needed a cheerleader, didn’t you?”
“Fuck.” He mumbles, gripping her knees to spread her legs accordingly. Anakin eyes the thong she’s wearing and makes a mental note to stuff them in his pant’s pocket when he gets them off of her. He slots himself in between her welcoming thighs, erection pressing hotly against her clothed cunt. The kisses that were stopped along her collarbones moments ago start up again, now more urgent.
“God, you’re so sexy. All mine too. My little cheerleader.” He breaths against her, making his way down to her cleavage. Nips and sucks are felt at the exposed skin of her breasts, her hips press upwards at that, wanting to feel him. The material of her shirt is pushed up over her bra, then hands snake up her spine to unclasp that too. She shimmies down the straps so he can throw the item behind him.
“I knew you’d have perfect tits.”
He doesn’t waste a second to lick around one of her nipples, taking it in his mouth after a second. A hand gropes the breast that isn’t in his mouth and the other is splayed over the side of her thigh, moving up to grab as much of her ass as it can.
“Anakin.” She moans, arching her back slightly. Her thighs clamp down around his waist, it feeds into the desire that’s beginning to take over his mind. He ruts his hips into her, both of them moaning at the contact. The smell of her arousal floats between both of them, it has him groaning before harshly thrusting against her. “Smell so good, gotta have a taste.” He pulls away, lowering to his knees before she stops him.
“Wait, Anakin. I can’t wait any longer, please—please, fuck me.”
His forehead meets her knee, his teeth pierce his lower lip as he shutters out a breath. “My little cheerleader is such a slut for me already, hm?”
The shirt that clung to his body is taken off, in the sexiest way possible, as well as his pants. Soon, he’s left in his boxers, his very obvious erection strains against the fabric. “Come here.” He grabs her waist as he slides onto the sheets, maneuvering her just the way he wants until she’s propped up on him. His back lays against her pillows as he slips her panties to the side, her leaking cunt pressed deliciously against his clothed cock.
“I can feel how fucking wet you are, is that all for me, Cutie?”
She tries to pay attention to him speak, but the sight of him, abs all sweaty below her, causes her brain to short circuit. “Don’t tell me you’re already all dumb for me.” He hotly stares at her, hand reaching out to grab her chin, making sure she’s looking him in the eye. “I asked you a question.”
She stares with wider hazy eyes, “It’s all for you, Ani. Need you so bad.” She whines, panting already.
He smirks at her state, loving the way she reacts to him. “Show me then, Cutie. Rub your wet little pussy on my cock and I might just fuck you with it.” His eyes are back to the intense ones she knows so well. But this time, he can visibly see how bad they affect her. Taking in a deep breath, she places her shaky hands on his abs before moving her hips. A gasp is heard pretty quickly due to how hard he is, she wonders if it hurts at all.
Weirdly, he finds it that much hotter how her skirt covers where they meet.
“There you go, keep going.” He praises, watching her with lidded eyes. Her head hangs low as she grinds a little harder.
“Fuck.” He rasps, moving his hands to her hips.
Her clit catches his head and ridges a few times and it’s enough to pull a pornographic moan from her. They’re full-on dry humping now, she can even see a wet patch start to grow on his briefs when she pulls up her skirt, it makes him salivate. “I can’t wait any longer.” He groans out, stopping her movements. A hand on her waist keeps her in place as he pushes down his briefs a few inches to grip a hand around himself. Pearls of pre cum ooze down his head and it has her gulping.
“Ready, Cutie?”
Y/n nods, tossing her head back as Anakin runs his cock through her folds before pressing into her. She’s so wet that in one push he’s filled her to the brim. “Anakin.” She weakly moans out, leaning her body forward to push him impossibly deeper inside her.
“Shit, you’re so tight and wet for me. Just like I knew you’d be.”
“You’ve thought of this before?” She asks, knowing the answer. She just wants to hear his dirty words some more. “Of course, I have. Jerked off to the idea of this cute little pussy so many times. You’re better than I imagined.” Her lips quiver at that, it propels her into raising her hips and slamming them down as fast as she’s able to at that moment. The stretch of him is making her delirious, an insatiable hunger taking over her.
“Just like that, Cutie. Doing so good for me.” The praise has her clenching around him. She tries her best to keep a good pace but it’s proving to be difficult, her thighs burn as her body forces her to slow down. The man under her takes notice and grips her waist, sitting up and laying her down beneath him.
He throbs inside of her impatiently, so he grabs her thighs and pushes them closer to her chest, both of them moan at the new angle. The way he’s now kissing her cervix has her turn to pure putty in his hands. “There you go, you’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Have I fucked you stupid?” He calls out, eyeing the way she reacts. A smirk finds it’s way on his face as she tries to answer but fails. The grip he has on her thighs tightens as he feels her clench, the fluttering doesn’t stop so he guesses she's close.
Her hand tip toes down to her clit to messily rub, she doesn’t care how or how fast, she just needs the stimulation.
“M’ gonna come.” She moans, tears welling in her eyes at his harsh pace and the words falling from his lips.
“Do it, Slut, come.” He growls, grinding his hips into hers. Anakin watches her face closely as she finishes around him, then he backs up to peak down at the way his cock fills her up to the brim.
“There you go.”
Y/n lazily smiles as he slows down to a stop.
“Don’t think I’m done with you, yet.” He tells her, pulling out to flip her over onto her stomach. His strong hands pull her ass up, pushing her legs apart with his knee. “You look so good like this, pussy ready for me.” His voice is low and gravelly, it has her dripping.
The next morning she awoke to the unusual smell of bacon. A hand splays out on the spot next to her, it’s cold. Cracking open an eye, she notices the bed is empty. “Anakin?” Her groggy voice asks to the open air. There’s no response so she pushes herself to her feet, noticing she’s in her panties and what looks like Anakin’s shirt.
Traversing through her apartment, she spots the kitchen and rubs her eyes. Anakin’s tussled hair and toned back was the first thing she saw, “Anakin?”
His ears perk up. Turning around, he smiles, “Good morning, about time you woke up. I was just about to come get you.” He walks over to her, settling his hands on her hips and placing a loving kiss to her cheek. “I made breakfast, go sit down.” He nods to the table. “I didn’t know you were so motherly.” She smiles, sitting down at a chair.
“Just for you.” He murmurs, getting out cups.
Eating breakfast beside him was odd, not in a bad way though. Waking up to him was truly the best feeling. “What time do you work today?” He asks, shoveling the last of his food in his mouth.
“Uhh 4, and tomorrow the shop isn’t open.”
“Oh, so I get you the whole day? I’m honored.” He says as they both get up to put dishes in the sink. Hands on the counter, she turns around to face him. He gladly leans in and traps her between him and the surface, the kiss they shared was sweet, it made her heart swell.
“I should go back to my place to get cleaned up. I’ll miss you.” He punctuates that with a kiss, or two, or three. She giggles in return, teasingly pushing him away as he goes back for more. “When I come back you better be in the same outfit, you look amazing in my clothes.” He leans into her ear to say, playfully nipping at her neck. “Anakin…” She laughs.
A few days have passed, Y/n sits at her desk doing her homework as she gets a call. She recognizes that it’s associated with her university. She answers it and her jaw drops. Her painting was accepted into the art show. She springs up from her bed and squeals when the call is over. The first thing she thinks of is telling Anakin, but, maybe it would be better if it was a surprise.
--
“Anakin it’s a school night.”
“We’re adults, Y/n. We’re not in middle school anymore, plus it’ll be fun.” He tries persuading her. Currently his friends and him are going to see a movie, it’s about 9:00 so Y/n is a little worried. She hums from over the phone in thought, “Fine, is your car even big enough for all of us?” She asks, playing with the strings of her sweat pants.
“I’ll pick you up and we’ll meet them there, don’t worry.” Y/n hums again.
“I’ll be there in 15 minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
As he pulls up to her building, he can’t help but be nervous as well. His friends can be a little…intense, and he knows Y/n is the opposite of that. But he really wants his girlfriend and his friends to meet.
“Hey, Beautiful. I missed you.” He smiles, leaning in to leave a peck on her lips.
“I missed you too, what movie are we watching?”
“The new insidious, it looks really good.”
“A scary movie? You should’ve warned me, I’m gonna embarrass myself even more in front of your friends.” Her doe eyes stare in worry at him, causing his heart to squeeze. “Y/n no, I promise it’ll be okay. If it gets too scary I can..distract you. I’m pretty good at that.” He smiles, driving off. Of course, he would say that.
Y/n wipes her clammy hands on her jeans, remembering how the boys were in the flower shop.
Her boyfriend eyes her from his seat, eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, if this is too much for you we can go back. It's up to you." He grabs at her hands, looking her sincerely in the eyes after he parks. "No no, I'll be fine." He smiles at her, giving her a loving kiss before opening his door. The wind whips her hair in her face as she stands, soon hearing the loud chattering of, who she assumes, are his friends. There's about 4 of them, they're already laughing and pushing each other when they reach the two. They do their guy greeting before turning to her. One of them speaks up first, "You must be Y/n, we've heard a lot about you."
"Oh, good things I hope." She nervously smiles, migrating to holding onto Anakin's hand, she grips it like it's her lifeline. The group quickly starts chatting together, Y/n, obviously, the odd one out. The only thing keeping her from running away was Anakin. As they got their tickets and stood in line for snacks, he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "What do you want?" He asks, referring to what snacks she wants.
A thoughtful expression is seen on her face as she looks over the food. "Can I get the gummy worms? Oh and a blue slushee." She says, pointing to it on the menu. The cashier types in the order, asking if that's all. He nods, paying for you both, his friends order right after. "I'll pay you back, how much was it?" She starts digging through her purse for her wallet. "Y/n, you don't have to pay me back." He shakes his head, smiling affectionately at her.
"Dude, I didn't know you were so sappy." One of his friends laughs, of course, they all start laughing at him. Except one, she doesn't know his name but she knows she doesn't like him. The way his eyes undress her makes her feel dirty and exposed. The 3 pounds of drinks, popcorn, and candy they get is dispersed amongst them. Since they are college boys, they pick the seats way at the back of the theater. She doesn't mind too much though, having Anakin with her soothes her nerves.
As she sits down, Anakin sits to her left, and to her dismay, the one friend sits to her right. The tension the guy brings has her scooting closer to her boyfriend.
Sitting through the ads was tough, she couldn't constantly keep talking to Anakin since he was talking to his friends, so she had to sit there, eating the popcorn that sat in Anakin's lap.
The lights dimmed as she reached for him, clasping one of his hands in between both of hers.
During the movie she had the weirdest feeling of being watched, it chilled her more than the cold theater air. Or, maybe not. She didn't realize how cold it was until right now.
"Anakin, I'm gonna get my jacket from your car, can you give me your keys?" She whispers.
He nods, digging in his pocket and giving her them. Carefully, she gets up, avoiding knocking into everyone's legs as she sidesteps through the aisle.
Moments later when she turns around from locking the car again, jacket in hand. She spots Anakin, his friends, and a security guard outside by the doors. Eyebrows furrowing, she gets closer, the security guard then goes inside, leaving the rest of the men. "What happened? Are you okay?" She noticed one of the guys with a busted lip and bloody nose.
"Let's go, Y/n." Her boyfriend says sternly, dragging her back to the car by the hand. "Anakin? You're scaring me."
Once they sat in the car, her body turned towards him, "Anakin." She says again, waiting for an explanation. The man sighs, rubbing his hands over his face before muttering. "I punched Cody." She's not sure who that is, but she guesses it's the one with the bleeding nose and lip. "What? Why? I thought you were friends."
He sighs again, looking over at you. "He was saying some stuff about you, that I won't repeat. I couldn't control myself after that, then we got kicked out." Y/n was stunned, what could've he possibly said about her that made Anakin so blood thirsty? "Oh." She was obviously a little hurt, not by him, but by the friend. She thought she was doing a good job at talking to them.
"Don't let him get you down, though. You mean so much to me, Y/n, More than I can put into words, let's go home." He runs a hand through his hair before reversing out of his parking space, a stern look still on his face.
That night when they got to her house, he changed into the clothes he brought over and clung to her. They were both on their sides facing each other in bed, her head pressed into his chest, and a firm arm was around her waist.
"Y/n."
"Hm?"
"Look at me."
She does as he requested and tipped her head up, locking eyes with him even through the darkness. His hand on her waist drifts up to comb through the hair beside her ear, before resting on her neck to pull her lips to his properly.
"I love you." He breaths against her mouth, kissing her once more.
"You do?" She asks, reaching up to press her hand onto his. Nobody except her parents has told her that before, especially with the pure adoration that Anakin held. "Of course, I do. The first time I ever saw you, you ran me over with your painting. I was hooked from the beginning." He smiles, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.
Her eyes widen, "That was you?"
"Yes, and I couldn't be more happy about it." He spoke so close to her lips, they brushed against each other after each word. "I love you too." She responds, initiating the last kiss before they sleep. After that, they broke apart so Anakin could lean his head on top of hers, listening to her breathing slow as she falls asleep.
--
Getting through her classes was tough, there was only one more day until the art show. Y/n tried her best not to think too much about it, though.
"Here, Cherry. Here, Bear." She calls, putting food into their dishes. As she sits and pets them while they eat, her mind drifts to what Anakin's reaction might be to seeing his own eyes on display. She can only hope it doesn't weird him out, he's her first boyfriend since her Junior year of high school. He even told her he loves her. But, she knew if he did have an adverse reaction to it, she would understand. Her head lay on her knee as she processes all of her emotions at once.
That day at the shop the bell rang, signaling a customer.
"Welcome in..." She trails off. "Anakin, what are you doing here?" Y/n gasps, eyes sparkling. The man smiles while shrugging. "Just looking around, I suppose." She hums, "Let me know if you need any help, okay?" He nods at her words, stepping around an aisle. It doesn't take him too long to pick out what he's looking for.
He places down a singular rose, readying his wallet. "Alright, that'll be $1.25." He hums in return, plucking out 2 one dollar bills. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll miss you." Anakin tells her as she gives him his change. "I'll miss you more, Ani." They cement their words with a kiss and then he leaves, waving at her as he does so.
Her hands visibly shake when she steps up to his car, it’s already dark outside so she hopes he can’t see. Y/n decided to wear a nice looking dress, she thought it would be nice since her art is in the show n all. “Wow, you look amazing. If you change your mind and wanna stay home tonight just lemme know.” He jokes.
“Tempting.” She smiles back as they finish greeting each other.
“I gotta grab my jacket from the trunk, one second.” He says as he pops the trunk open. A moment later he’s running back, half of his body is outside the car he leans inside. "For you." The red rose he bought from her in his hand, the smile that erupts onto her face has her cheeks hurting.
“Anakin, you’re so sweet.”
“Whoops sorry, here’s the rest.” She looks at him confused before he moves fully in front of the open door, a large bouquet of roses sit in his hands.
Instead of her usual sweet reply, she stares at him as he sits down in the driver's seat, the roses taking up quite a bit of space. Her eyebrows are furrowed as her mouth is still open in awe. She tries to stop the feeling of tears but it’s no use, they well up in her eyes and begin to drip and trickle down her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Cutie.” His eyes soften at her.
She gains some courage to reach out and grab the flowers, looking down at them with her, now, very wet cheeks. “You really didn’t have to.” She sniffles, wiping her tears and nose with her sleeve. “I wanted to, I love you, Y/n.”
She sniffles once more, “I love you too. Thank you.” Anakin’s not sure whether she’s thanking him for the flowers or his feelings towards her, but it makes him feel good either way. During the ride she decides to put the flowers in the back, the need to hold onto him after that was strong.
“Where are we going first?” They see a bunch of people around the school, not sure where the official entrance is.
She looks around at the outside venue before pointing to the place she wants to start looking around, knowing her piece is the opposite way.
It was unbelievably nice to look around and chat about the art pieces, some are statues, clay, and of course, paintings. Now, the moment she’s been dwelling on. She spots her painting a few feet down. “Wow, these paintings are so pretty.” Y/n says, trying to make it seem like something wasn’t eating her up inside. The natural speed of their walking, and brief stops, finally brought them to her painting. A sign in front of it spells out his name as the name of the piece, and her name as the author is right under it. Anakin’s hand on her back rubs her clothed skin, as it has been on and off for the past hour. His fingers feel like fire through her dress.
Her senses are heightened, the sound of the ground under their feet, the chatting of people around them, and the wind is all very loud. Her heart beat especially.
She doesn’t say anything as they walk in front of her section. “Heh, this looks like the eyes you always draw.” She gulps at his observation, waiting for him to read the sign. In a confused voice, he lets out a “Y/n..?” As he stares at the vivid blue on the canvas and the sign that has his name as the title of the painting, it all hits him at once. She can’t possibly look at him, she’s already having trouble regulating her breathing. But, he grips her and spins her to face him.
“This..is yours?” He pauses, eyes full of emotion. “You were drawing me? All those sketches I saw..were me?” He searches her eyes for something, anything in the moment.
“I’m sorry if you find it creepy-.” She begins explaining herself, but he cuts her off. “Y/n, no. I love it, more than I can express.” He never imagined anyone would do this, would ever take such an interest in him more than his physical abilities and attractiveness.
“I can’t believe it. Come here.” He says, taking her to a less populated area. Once they’re there, he grabs her face gently. His eyebrows are knit together as tears well in his eyes. “Y/n, I, I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Thank you for loving me."
It didn’t very long for them to make their way to her bed once more, this time was different though. She felt it in the air, in the way he pressed loving kisses to the expanse of her skin. The dress she’s wearing is bunched around her hips as he lays in between them, kissing down her thighs.
“Gonna make you feel good, Cutie.”
His nose nudges her clothed cunt, it has her hips stuttering upwards. He smiles as he carefully prods her with his tongue over her panties, soon settling on her clit to suckle lazily. "Anakin." She whines, the teasing becoming too much for her. Her boyfriend smiles before moving up to the waistband, kissing sultry kisses into her skin and the fabric, it ends with him nipping at the clothing and tugging it down her body with just his teeth. She hopes she doesn't go into cardiac arrest because of him.
His large hands grip her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and spreading her wide with two fingers. "Such a pretty pussy for me, Cutie." He mumbles into her as he licks firmly up her slit to her clit. Her back reacts first, then her hands get lost in his hair. She's never been eaten out before, the feeling coupled with the perpetrator being Anakin made her mind fuzzy. He eases his tongue inside of her, licking around before he groans. The vibrations pulling a loud moan from Y/n.
"I knew you'd taste good, so perfect for me."
His praise added a new layer of heat to her face and chest, the dress she was wearing suddenly very hot. Anakin narrowed in on her clit, his finger pulled back the hood so he could suck purely on the bundle of nerves. A choked whine leaves her, her back arches fully at the sensitivity. The liquid fire in her gut spreads like lava as she unexpectedly comes, the moans are stuck in her throat as she processes the euphoria flowing through her. His sucking becomes gentler as he prolongs her orgasm.
"You did so good for me, Baby. God, you drive me crazy. You see what you do to me?" He hotly asks, pushing his jeans down enough to grip his erection through his briefs. An ache settles in her pelvis, the need to be filled becoming almost unbearable. "I need you, Anakin. Feel so empty without you." His eyes close for a second before he fully undresses, soon doing the same to her as she pushes the material of her dress up and over her head. The both of them feeling the effects of the other person.
He pushes in and leans down, catching her lips in a kiss. "I love you, Y/n." She mutters back the sentiments, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the initial stretch of him. The veins that line his shaft are felt through her tight walls, it drives her crazy.
"Fuck, so tight for me." He mumbles, dropping so their bodies are pressed flush against each other. His head rests on her neck as he picks up his pace, rutting into her needly. Light lines of red come to life on his back due to her fingernails, the pressure only drives him further into her. The only other sound besides their mixed moaning and groaning is the squelching from how wet she is, Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, and Anakin's hips stutter.
"So wet for me, love this pussy so much."
A layer of sweat forms between their bodies as he keeps going, and a hand drifts down between them to rub at her clit. His thumb keeps up with his thrusting, only rubbing faster when she cries out. “Gonna come for me, Cutie?” He breathes heavily, planting deep kisses against her neck and chest.
She nods quickly, clinging onto him. “So close for you.” Her voice is a tad hoarse as she speaks up.
“Let go, need to feel you.”
His plead pushes her off the edge. Her hips do as they please and buck up into him, plunging him deep into her. Fireworks set off behind her closed eyelids and her brain lulls to a stop, letting the overwhelming feeling take over her limbs as they shake. Just as she comes out of it a loud groan sounds from him, “Mm, Baby, where do you want me?”
“In me, please come inside me.”
The idea of coming inside her ends it all for him, dirty thoughts and images run through his mind a mile a minute as he shoves himself as deep as he can go. The warmth of him finishing in her has zaps of electricity shooting up and down her spine.
“You did so good, Y/n.” He pants from above her, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss before he pulls out. The sight after he does is picture-worthy, his come leaks out of her and it almost makes Anakin hard again. A moment passes before he takes his middle and ring finger and pushes the rest back inside of her.
“You’re so pretty with my come leaking out of you, my little tortured artist.”
She chuckles out of breath before he speaks up again.
"I know this probably isn't the right time, but y'know how you helped with my botany homework?"
Her eyebrows draw together curiously, "Yes..why?"
"Well, I actually wasn't failing, I had an A in that class but I just wanted an excuse to talk to you more."
Her eyes grow wide at that, an incredulous smile on her face. "Seriously?"
He shrugs, "It worked, didn't it?"
2K notes · View notes
vmpiires · 4 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
„𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄”
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: ̗̀➛ FLUFF CONTENT!!!
: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, no sex, all fluff and the cute stuff. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.
: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.
: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.42K
* dark mode recommended
* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.
𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; taking a break from smut. finna make sum cute for the ones that need it
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“choso!” you threw your arm around choso. the 5’11 male would groan tiredly. you and him were pretty close friends…even closer now that the two of you lived together. you were his ball of sunshine when he just wanted to curl up in a pit of darkness. his tired eyes made their way up to yours and he’d smile a little.
you and him were…something. your relationship wasn’t made official or anything you but it definitely felt like it was. the two of you shared hugs that lasted longer than it should’ve. you were always doing something thoughtful for him like buying him new clothes or even food…to which choso couldn’t help but throw on his awkward crooked smile.
though, choso was a pretty serious guy, you couldn’t help but laugh when he was being dead serious with you. the way he said certain things made you giggle even though there wasn’t anything to laugh at in particular.
he couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him smile.
“hey…” choso cleared his throat. “what’re you doing up?”
“um..choso, it’s four in the afternoon.” you correct him in your soft and bubbly voice, your face never changing from your excited smile. if you smiled any longer, you were sure that your cheeks would start to hurt.
“huh?” choso glanced up at the clock on the wall in the kitchen that was pretty visible from the living room. his pupils retracted and his eyes widened, shocked about the time. he sighed and slumped back against the cushions of the couch.
“why didn’t you tell me? i was supposed to hang out with itadori today…” he sighed again, now rubbing his eyes. “i’m probably the worst brother ever.”
“you aren’t the worst, cho,” you smile at the curse, trying to reassure him. “you can still hang out with him. he knows how tired you can be.”
“yes, but i promised him i wouldn’t fall asleep and forget about him.” choso continued his moping, covering himself with his robe out of embarrassment…then it was quiet.
he went to sleep again.
you wondered why and how choso could just fall asleep so easily in the middle of conversations like that. his logic was also a bit confusing. he was so worried about yuji’s feelings but now he’s asleep as if he hadn’t been freaking out over it.
later that day, you were in your room playing roblox horror game on your playstation with yuji on the phone while choso was in the shower. you were waiting for him to get out so you can shower. you had to make sure you got that out of the way before you went to bed.
as you played your game, you remembered how dark the room was. you enjoyed being immersed in these games. turning up your volume as loud as possible. closing your door. turning off all the lights and even closing your curtains. you lived for the thrill of being scared.
you heard a click and a screech as your door opened, making you let out a loud gasp, saving yourself from tearing your vocal cords from screaming so much. 
choso was standing in your doorway, shirtless and his hair down. completely different from the twintails he usually wore…or his hair tied back, leaving his bangs to hang around in his face.
“you can go in now…” his low adverb voice spoke. “and why’re you screaming so much? is it that game?”
“oh, yeah, sorry.” you chuckled, finally calming your nerves. you were about to say something else until you heard yuji talking again. “oh…yeah, he’s right here. he was talking about you earlier.”
choso raised his eyebrows. you noticed he was doing that thing with his face…that nervous but excited smile. that was the most you seen him smile all day besides earlier today. he would quickly take your phone and put it up to his ear.
“uh…what do i say?” he asked. you just shrug, gesturing him to just say whatever was on his mind. he’d take your advice and walk out of your room, excitedly talking to yuji, starting with an apology.
you just smile at choso’s excitement and patiently wait until he returned with your phone.
that night, you had suddenly woken up after you fell asleep. your tv was off and your blankets were sliding off the bed. you seemed to be sleeping peacefully until you felt someone tapping you. you’d jolt awake and look up to see choso.
“your phone died,” he said, gently placing it beside you. he must’ve had your phone for a while or he just didn’t know when to come and wake you up. you were half asleep and you just nod, not really hearing much of what he said even though he didn’t say much.
“thanks, cho,” you say sleepily before lying down again. soon enough, you felt one side of your bed weigh down. choso was lying down next to you now.
“can i sleep in here with you?” he suddenly asked. “i don’t really wanna sleep by myself.”
that was a first. choso never asked to sleep in the same bed as you. you were too tired to question the curse’s actions and you agree to let him stay with you.
your eyes drift closed again, making yourself comfortable on the bed. soon enough, you felt a pair of arms snake around you.
“i gotta tell you something…um..don’t hate me.” choso began. “i mean, i doubt that you will but just in case.”
choso obviously seemed like a nervous wreck talking to you so closely to your ear. as you fight to keep your eyes open and listen to what choso had to say, you avert your eyes to look at him.
“why would i hate you?” you ask. choso’s cheeks visibly flushed a red color and he’d sigh, struggling to find the correct words to you so the conversation can go on smoothly.
“i…” you hear him pause. “i didn’t mean to fall in love with you like i did. you’re just so beautiful…and sweet. i don’t really know what i’d do without you here with me.”
you lay there processing what he had just said to you. a love confession? you couldn’t even fathom the words coming from your roommate’s lips.
“you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, i understand. i just wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my—” choso stopped again as if he were trying to remember something. a word. “do you wanna be my girlfriend?”
a tired smile stretched across your lips, “did you learn that from yuji or did you learn it yourself?”
“when i was talking to yuji on your phone…i asked him what it meant to have a crush on someone…and what it meant to be in a relationship. i mentioned to him that i felt like i’d die around you—that’s a good thing, i promise.” choso explained. “he tells me that it’s fine and that i should tell you how i feel.”
“well…yes, choso. i’ll be your girlfriend.” you say, your drowsiness still evident in your tone. choso released his grip from your body and sat up quickly.
“seriously?” he raised his eyebrows. he seemed unsure if he should’ve been excited. “um..this is good, right? yuji isn’t messing with me, right?”
you just laughed at him. something about his reactions were the cutest thing you could experience. it was like watching a cat play with a new toy.
“yes, seriously.”
“i have to tell yuji,” choso grabbed your phone and attempted to turn it on but it wasn’t working. it was still dead and you didn’t even bother to wake up and put it on the charger.
“tomorrow, cho. tell him tomorrow.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒
“yuji,” choso whispered into the phone. you were still asleep in your room while choso had sat in the living room, trying to charge your phone. it took him a second to understand the concept of how long it can take to charge but he was patient until your phone reached a sufficient number so he could use it to make a call.
“i did it. i told her.”
“oh, you did? that’s awesome!” if your phone was any louder, you’d be able to hear yuji cheering over the phone for his big brother since the audio was on speaker. “well, now all you gotta do is be a cool boyfriend and a cool big brother.”
“i think i can do that,” choso smiled.
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letsquestjess · 19 days
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To Be Held (Crosshair x GN!Reader)
Summary: Crosshair struggles with the tremor in his hand, but you are there to comfort him.
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Brief descriptions of nightmares and depression. Contains some spoilers for season 3!
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You rounded the kitchen with a tune on your lips, collecting packets and paper bags and arranging the fresh produce onto the chopping board. A potato rolled from the pile, bouncing off the outstretched elbow you extended in an attempt to slow it. As it tumbled from the worktop, a hand darted out. 
“Nice catch,” you said to Crosshair as he straightened and picked out a few other vegetables from the hefty bundle. 
“I can help get these chopped up,” he offered, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Although I have to ask, are you trying to feed the entire island?”
“Just your brothers,” you returned.  
The sniper chuckled to himself, lips curving into an endearing grin. He and his brothers had grown up on a diet consisting mostly of ration bars, protein drinks, and whatever meagre soups and over-baked breads the cafeteria served. Upon arriving on the picturesque island, the sheer variety of food options available had daunted him, but the more he tasted, the more he acclimated to the distinct tastes and innovative pairings. 
It was how he had met you. Market days on Pabu were an island-wide event, and Wrecker, ever eager to delve deeper into the culinary arts, dragged him along. His excuses ranged from wanting to experiment with new seasonings to needing help with meal planning, but he eventually admitted he just wanted to spend time with him. From that moment on, Crosshair attended every week without fail. 
Some months into their visits, you bumped into each other. Quite literally. After steadying the overflowing bags in your arms and assuring him you were unharmed, you both exchanged sheepish smiles and apologies, and parted ways. He saw you again the week after, and the week after that, your eyes meeting in silent recognition, until Omega intervened and nudged her brother to approach you. 
The thought of your first encounter comforted him, immersing him in a daydream that shattered the instant his hand began to tremor. He grumbled and clenched his fists, resolved to shove the annoyance aside and focus on assisting you with dinner. 
But you noticed. You picked up the irritated huff and the flex of his fist. “Are you all right?” you asked, setting down the knife and scooping the chopped vegetables into the simmering pan of water. His silence hung heavy, and you stopped what you were doing. “Cross?” 
“I’m fine,” he replied, gruffer than he intended. Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, he refocused and carried on slicing the washed potatoes into chunks. 
Over the last few weeks, you had observed a subtle tremor in his hand and a faraway expression. It never lasted for more than a few minutes, but you sensed he was confined in that desolate cell once more, on that unrelenting experiment table. He had spent countless months trying to regain control, confronting his past rather than avoiding it. 
The risk of a relapse always remained, but you wished he wouldn’t endure them in silence and solitude. Omega’s meditations had offered a small reprieve, and the therapy he stuck at untangled the knotted vines in his head, allowing him to process his thoughts. But it was getting to him again, wriggling its way back in like an insidious vibroblade slicing into a disintegrating shield, smashing the defences he had fought so hard to maintain. 
As he brought the knife down, the blade grazed dangerously close to his finger. He jerked away and hissed a curse. 
“Okay,” you said with a gentle but resolute edge, taking control before the situation overwhelmed him further. “Sit down.”
“Dinner needs doing,” he insisted. 
“It can wait. Sit, love, please.” 
Reluctantly, the sniper snatched a dining chair and sank into the plush, patterned cushion tied to the back bars. 
After wiping the vegetable juices from your palms on a dishcloth, you brought his hands to your chest and pressed firmly, grounding him in the present and to you. “Can you feel the rhythm of my heart?” you asked. 
Crosshair nodded, wearied gaze lifting to meet yours. “Yes.”
“Close your eyes. That’s it. Concentrate on your breaths.” 
Within a few rounds of deep inhales and slow exhales, the trembles relaxed. You squeezed his hands, thumbs caressing the dry, calloused skin on his fingers. 
“I am so proud of you,” you said, softly, patiently. “You have fought to be where you are, Cross, and you never gave up. No matter how challenging it became, or the obstacles that stood in your path, you persevered. If only you could see yourself how others see you, you would understand how brave, and caring, and dedicated you are.” 
His eyes blinked open, and a subtle smile reappeared. “You missed ‘stubborn’ off that list.”
“How could I forget?” you chuckled.
He brought your closer by your hips and settled his cheek on your stomach. You were warm. Familiar. When the shadows crept in, you emerged as a shining beacon, restoring his sense of self and holding aloft that steadfast belief in him. Despite no longer being controlled by the Empire or serving in the army, the fear of relapsing haunted him, and he dreaded he would become that again. Cold and cruel to those he loved, and alone for the rest of his days.
“If you needed more therapy, or wanted to try something else, I am right here with you,” you told him, stroking the thick, silvery tufts he had been growing out. “Whatever you need.” 
Expressing himself had never come naturally to Crosshair. He attempted to reach out to his siblings after Tantiss, and in time you. In his mind, he recognised the intensity of his emotions, the words he longed to express, but he couldn’t get them past his mouth. It required an immense amount of effort for him to let his guard down, and in moments like these, when he wanted to vanish into some secluded corner, it became even harder. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your stomach, his grip tightening as if you might slip away. “I just feel so…” 
Sacred. Frightened. Weak. You knew how that sentence ended. You’d heard it often enough on the nights he woke doused in sweat and hauling in trembling breaths, grasping for anything to bolster him in his safe reality. 
“It will all be okay,” you soothed, cradling him to you. “You are not alone. You have me, and your siblings, and an island of people here who cherish and appreciate you. We love you more than you know, and we will do whatever it takes to get you the support you need.”
“Right now,” he muttered, “I only need to hold you.” He nuzzled closer, burying himself in the solacing lift and fall of your stomach and the steady tempo of your heart. Each beat called out to him, and he eagerly listened. 
“I suppose I could allow that for a little longer,” you said brightly as he gazed up at you, the tattoo around his eye crinkling with a tired but hopeful smile. 
There were difficult times ahead, more nightmares, more lapses, more quiet in which his mind returned him to those days as a captive of the Empire. But through it all, he remained hopeful, and that was all you ever needed him to be. 
TAGLIST (Message if you’d like to be added, 18+ only)
@skellymom @freesia-writes @the-hexfiles @theeyesofasoldier @multi-fan-dom-madness @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @tech-aficionado @techsriduur @dangraccoon @starrylothcat @jediknightjana @mssbridgerton @trixie2023
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modernabstractart · 9 months
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The Right Way to Make Quality Kids Posters and Canvas Paintings
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Kids posters and canvas paintings hold a special place in a child's world, sparking imagination, creativity, and wonder. As a parent, teacher, or caregiver, creating quality artwork for kids goes beyond simply putting colors on paper; it involves crafting a masterpiece that ignites joy and captivates young minds. Whether you are looking to decorate a child's bedroom, classroom, or playroom, there are essential elements to consider to ensure the artwork is not only visually appealing but also age-appropriate and stimulating.
Kids' posters and canvas painting should act as portals to new worlds, drawing children into imaginative realms where their creativity knows no bounds. The first step in creating quality artwork is to choose captivating storytelling themes that resonate with young minds. Envision stories of fantastical adventures, friendly animals, outer space journeys, or fairy tale settings. By incorporating such imaginative themes, you provide children with an opportunity to explore their imagination and weave their narratives around the artwork, fostering a love for storytelling and creative expression.
Colors play a vital role in the appeal of kids' artwork. The use of bright, vibrant colors can instantly capture a child's attention and create an engaging visual experience. Incorporate a diverse palette of colors to evoke different emotions and moods, ensuring that the artwork is visually stimulating. Balance is key; avoid overwhelming the artwork with too many colors and focus on creating a harmonious visual composition that is both attractive and calming to young eyes.
When creating kids posters and canvas paintings, it is crucial to consider the age-appropriateness of the themes and content. Ensure that the artwork is child-friendly and free from any images or messages that may cause distress or confusion. Age-appropriate content helps children develop a positive relationship with art and encourages parents and educators to embrace it as an educational and inspirational tool.
For more information on the right way to create kids posters and canvas painting, visit our website at https://www.urbanroad.com.au
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waytooinvested · 12 days
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Fic: Small Problem...
A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19
.............
There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.
She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.
As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.
Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.
Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.
J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.
And Kara was-
Not there.
Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.
‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.
‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’
Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.
‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’
Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.
‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.
Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.
‘Oh, that can’t be good…’
Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.
‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’
Lena froze.
The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.
‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’
‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’
‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’
They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.
‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.
The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.
It couldn’t be… could it?
She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.
Nothing.
Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.
‘Woah! The room’s moving!’
Ah hah.
Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.
‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’
‘Yes! How did you know that?’
‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’
They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.
Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.
‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.
And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.
‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.
She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.
‘I… shrank?’
‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.
Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.
‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.
In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.
Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.
‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’
Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.
Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.
‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.
She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.
‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.
Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.
Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.
As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.
It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.
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itsonlydana · 1 month
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"passenger princess" | chapter six
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the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana
❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader
❱ wordcount: 4,9k
❱ summary: a horror movie, 'your dad jokes' and overcoming the fear of being vulnerable by opening up
❱ warnings: mature language
❱ an: we're back on schedule! Anyone got the reference with the documentary?🤭
general m.list + series m.list
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3
CHAPTER SIX: MOVIE
It was movie night and once again you found yourself sitting on the giant sofa, a glass of wine cradled between your hands as you watched Legolas and Aragorn argue over what to watch.
It was amusing, really, to simply sit back and observe how both completely missed the fact they could be on the same page if they weren't blinded by the urge to please the other.
While Legolas was trying his hardest to convince Aragorn you didn't have to watch another romcom and he would much rather try to understand that one French art film Aragorn studied in his poetry class, the brunette was keen on rewatching Mean Girls for Legolas.
They seemed to have forgotten you were there to be included in the discussion.
Feet burrowed into the cushions under you you sipped on the wine that Thranduil brought out to the pool two days ago.
Every sip brought the scent of sunscreen and the warm rays of sunshine back to you on this rainy evening.
Your gaze trailed to the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the sofa, right outside to where the pool was illuminated by lanterns and laid undisturbed except for the raindrops splattering onto the surface.
Thinking back to that day, you felt a heat creeping into your cheeks that not only came from the wine.
You had no idea what had been the push into the decision but when Thranduil had joined you in the pool, he had joined you. Not just sitting at the edge or watching you from the shadow of the terrace.
He'd come outside and immediately shed himself from his shirt and trousers, leaving you to a close death with every layer of fabric removed and every bit of light skin revealed.
You nearly had a heart attack at the sight of his upper body and the lean muscles you had known were there, but never had the pleasure –and oh, it truly was a fucking pleasure– to see in all their glory.
Thranduils shoulders were broad, yet fit his form and the adonis belt that accentuated his –must be said– slender waist.
The sentiment that no man his age should be allowed to be this good-looking extended to include all men or women no matter the age. It made little sense to you that this man looked like that at his age when you knew full well that he didn't exercise.
He had a body to fantasize about, and you gladly did.
"What do you say?" Aragorn called to you from the other end of the couch, where he was rubbing his temple, "Tell Legolas I really don't mind watching whatever he chooses."
"Oh, you remembered I'm still here?" you asked while Legolas gasped and clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Yes, but you shouldn't not mind, you should enjoy the movie as well!"
"Legolas, I mean it. It's alright if we watch Mean Girls!"
"Woah, pause!" you took another sip and swiped the air with the other hand. "You two have been so insufferable ever since you did it. Can we go back to pining but without all the.. you know, back bending for just a movie?"
It shut them up, maybe they thought you hadn't noticed them sneaking off together or whatever the reason was, you were glad for the momentary silence.
"Let's just do the 'surprise me' thingy and no one will be truly happy, alright?"
No idea when you'd become the voice of reason but both nodded in agreement, sparing shy smiles to each other that said more apologies than Legolas had ever given to you in words, for the evenings you had to watch his choice of movie.
Love could really change a person.
"Fine," Legolas threw his long legs into movement, walked to the cabinets next to the flatscreen, and grabbed the remote. "Next time we–"
"We'll have the same discussion over and over again," Aragorn added.
"You're disgusting," you pretended to gag, heaving your chest for dramatic effect, "Finishing each other's sentences is so cringe."
"Using cringe in a sentence is cringe."
"Shut up and dim the lights, Las. Please down to the level that's in your head, alright?" You smiled angelicly, cheeks hurting from the effort though it was all worth it at Legolas scowl when he tried to fish for a response but ended up silently muttering under his breath and turning the lights off.
Engulfed in near darkness you only saw his lanky figure reach for something on the incliner next to the sofa before a cushion flew toward you with a scarily accuracy.
Wouldn't you have leaned to the side because you wanted to place the glass onto the coffee table, there would've been an accident for sure.
"Legolas you fucking idiot," you swore, already grabbing the cushion that hit your back. "Do you want another wine-stain incident?"
The wine-stain-incident of last year went down in history as the biggest argument this house had ever seen.
Legolas and Thranduil had been arguing like never before, snapping at each other back and forth for days over red wine spilled over the newly bought designer sofa cushions.
It went so far that Legolas camped at your dorm for a whole weekend, clearing out your fridge and complaining that his Ada was up his ass for an accident he didn't even remember.
After three days of coming home from work and seeing Legolas sulk on your bed, the thing that pushed your patience over the edge had been one night when the blonde couldn't sleep and decided that your bed was big enough for him to cuddle you; big surprise: it wasn't.
Nothing was big enough in the tin can of a dorm.
"So what?" Legolas fell onto the sofa next to Aragorn, giving you plenty of space to spread out on your half, "I'm just gonna tell him it was you again. Nothing's gonna happen then."
"You're a wicked man, Las," Aragorn said. Legolas grinned.
You snorted. "Sure, if you want your ass handed to you. Don't think it's going to work twice."
"Oh no, it will." Legolas raised an eyebrow much similar to his father, "Just like last time his anger will go up in the smoke the second he sees you and then–" he cooed in a very over-the-top imitation of Thranduil, "–no no no, it's alright! I hated the sofa anyways.. what? It's new? Doesn't matter, I'll buy a new one, babe."
"He doesn't sound like that and it wasn't like that!" you complained.
It had been exactly like that.
"It kinda was," Aragorn chimed in and received a smile (Legolas) and an angry huff (you).
Legolas tapped away on the remote, lightning up the living room as the flatscreen showed the last thing that had been watched.
Some nature documentary that, in the small second Legolas gave you before opening up the streaming app, seemed to be about whales and crocodiles.
Thranduils taste in movies was everything Legolas didn't enjoy: docus with long biology conversations, silent black and white classics or, his guilty pleasure, fake jury shows where he would point out where they went wrong or how inaccurate the case was.
You adored how he would sit on the sofa wearing his slim glasses and pretend he wasn't interested in the drama at all.
"Alright," Legolas said and pressed a button for the random movie.
"By the way," you said hushed, "He doesn't call me babe. Your father calls me sweetheart or darling, which is completely different and so much more endearing in my opinion."
Aragorn let out a loud breath and leaned over to rub Legolas' shoulder. "Wow, that was basically a 'your mom' joke, although much more eloquent. Hope you're alright."
"He will survive," you waved off, "It's not like I told him how he–"
"No, I actually don't want to hear that!" Legolas interrupted you loudly and turned up the sound of the TV, shutting down every remark that could've followed by the loud boom that cracked through the surround system like thunder.
You didn't need to read the title of the movie, that the first scene was a first-person shot of someone running through the woods at night and the only sound was their breathing and the snapping of twigs was telling you exactly what you were in for.
"Sorry," Legolas said before you even opened your mouth, grinning over at you in the moonshine light of the movie, "No take backsies for any insults just because you don't wanna watch horror!"
"But–"
"No no, no buts."
"You're so mean," Aragorn said to Legolas, but nevertheless grabbed one of the blankets beside him and threw it toward you, "Here, to protect you from any murderers."
You stuck out your tongue at him and yanked the blanket over.
Horror, was by far, the worst outcome of the random selection.
Everything else would've been fine, hell, even a compilation of every time you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Thranduil could be an easier watch than an hour.. oh well two hours of jumpscares.
"You'll be fine," Legolas was already munching on the popcorn he'd prepared earlier, throwing the golden snack into his open mouth and –naturally– not missing a single piece.
It was infuriating how talented he was in some aspects.
"Just don't look to your left and imagine the killer's waiting for you behind the trees."
"I hate you so much."
As expected, the blanket provided little comfort as the movie progressed and whenever you glanced over to Aragorn and Legolas, you could see them whispering together, quietly laughing over the dumb decisions the main character made.
So unfair they had fun while you suffered.
The scenes got even worse the longer you watched, tension sharpening like the knives you saw on screen, flashing in and out as the killer sneaked through the woods. The wind outside as well as inside screamed like a boiling kettle, rattling as the storm picked up and hammered the wind against the window.
There were creaks and echoes everywhere.
Every hair on your body stood up, an electrifying rush of adrenalin cursing through your body and having you cling to the blanket in an attempt to shield yourself.
It came out of nowhere.
The sound of a door opening and immediately shutting close with a bang loud enough that you let out a scream like your life depended on it.
It led to Legolas joining in, yelling in surprise and as he turned around to stare into the dark kitchen, the popcorn flew everywhere.
There, looming in the doorframe was a tall figure, dripping water and looking extremely haunted by the white flashes of the screen illuminating long wet hair and hauntingly sharp cheekbones.
"Oh my fucking god.. fuck! Fuck this shit," you gasped for air, inhaling one breath after the other until you were nearly dizzy.
"Ada, you scared the shit out of us!" Legolas quickly let go of Aragorn, whom he'd jumped the second he'd heard your scream pierce the quiet room.
"My apologies," Thranduils deep rumble sounded.. off. Strained, like the lopsided smile on his lips. "That was not my intention." He looked around, pausing at you and for a second the look on his face seemed haunted. "Please, continue. I'll be upstairs and make sure not to bother you anymore."
"Thran–" you started and rose to bend over the back of the sofa.
He stopped in his movement, haltering to nod at you, "Hi, sweetheart, excuse me for scaring you like that. You look lovely, though." And then he was already stalking back to the hallway, his wet hair clinging to his equally drenched coat.
You turned to Legolas and Aragorn, your expression communicating the confusion you felt clearly by the look of their equally unsure faces.
"Ada?" Legolas called, not looking away from you, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Yes?"
"I may have spilled wine onto the new white carpet. It was some hours ago but maybe we can fix it?" Questioningly you inclined your head, close to asking him what the fuck he was talking about, when Thranduil answered:
"Oh, no worries," –your eyes widened– "It's fine. Let's talk later."
"Well," Legolas stated as soon as you heard Thranduil walk up the stairs. "Either someone kidnapped Ada and that's someone else, or he's calculating how to murder you two for practically living here at this point."
Aragorn, sensing that this wasn't the time to continue, paused the movie. Even he was frowning.
You fell back onto your bottom, eyes flickering back to the doorway in uncertainty. "So I didn't just hallucinate that? You noticed how weird he was?"
"So weird. Maybe something happened?" Aragorn mused and started picking up the popcorn Legolas had strewn all over the place.
"Maybe he finally realized I live here rent-free as well."
You and Aragorn looked at each other. You spoke up first: "Las, the way you inhale his snacks and wine he's just ignorant of the fact. Do you have any idea what's up with him?"
Legolas shrugged, throwing one of the popcorn pieces into his mouth again. "Not the slightest. Haven't seen him like that since.. oh–", he paused, grimacing like he tasted something sour.
"What?" Next to him, Aragorn took away another lint-covered popcorn before he could eat that as well.
Suddenly, Legolas seemed sheepish, his gaze scattering everywhere except you which you immediately noticed.
"Legolas, since when?"
"'S probably doesn't matter," he mumbled, his face turning a traitorous reddish shade that reached the top of his pointy ears.
"You're lying," you detected, not trying to hide the sharp edge in your voice. This was quickly escalating, moving far beyond a simple discussion over what movie to watch. "What's going on? He's never like that… at all. He looked like he'd run over someone!"
"Love," Aragorn tried softly, but you were already too busy staring at Legolas to notice.
"You really want to know?" Legolas asked, the blanket he and Aragorn were under clutched into his fists. "I'll tell you but don't, and I mean it, don't zero in on that. This could be different, like completely." After your nod and a look over his shoulder to check that Thranduil wasn't creeping through the hallway with an axe, he continued:
"Y'know my mother left him, right?"
As soon as he mentioned her, you grew wearily. "Yes–"
"So she left when I was still a baby, like no worries he's fine with it and I'm fine with it and we were alright. He kinda knew it would happen, she was around but never there. He was the one giving up half of his firm so that he could work less and mostly from home. She just.. didn't change at all and when she was gone, Ada wasn't surprised."
You knew the story, it was one of those things Legolas had shared with you under the confined comfort of the blanket of the night and his bed.
"Uhm.. yeah, I don't know how to tell you this but she came back once."
The world swayed, ripping open right in front of you and you felt yourself tumbling, one foot over the edge of that darkness this statement had dunked your head into.
"Oh," you said, immediately trying to shut down the feelings of unease and insecurity gnawing at your mind. "I mean, she's your mom?"
Legolas huffed, "Barely. Biologically yes, but even then one could argue I'm Ada's clone." He grew serious again, his long fingers tapping the arm he'd thrown over his middle, "T'was like what.. nine years.. ten years ago? I was in the kitchen doing my homework when the keys turned and some woman suddenly stood in front of me that I didn't recognize but knew who she was. I kinda screamed. Ada came and when he saw her, he looked just like he looked then."
You blinked, your breathing coming in a bit faster than what you would define as 'totally fine'.
"What happened then?" Aragorn asked for you. Thankfully, because you weren't sure what to say.
"He threw her out and called someone to change the locks," Legolas said and lifted his head to stare at you, "Ada told her to go to hell or he'll sue the living shit out of her for child abandonment and whatever dirt he would find. Yes, he had the same look on his face, yes he was so fucking weird and kind of apathetic but, and listen to me; this could be a whole other thing."
"Wha– what.." you started, stumbling even over that one word, "what if it's not? Maybe he changed his opinion over time."
"Sure," he rolled his eyes but dropped the sarcasm when it did not comfort you at all, "No seriously, believe me, he doesn't want her in his, my, or our life. Not then, not now, not when you two finally figured yourselves out."
While that helped just as much as throwing a single glass of water onto a giant campfire, you nodded and put on a mask of uninterest.
Simply because it was much easier than getting into a whole discussion over feelings that may or may not be out of place.
He could've simply had a bad day at work.
"Let's just continue?" you asked, nearly begged, and were glad when Legolas and Aragorn didn't say another word but started the movie again to fill the awkward silence.
Under the blankets, you were wired.
You'd known you should've let it rest, to leave Legolas alone and maybe if that story had stayed untold, the straw just waiting to be dropped, hadn't dropped to throw your mind into a frenzy that was based on a "what if" situation you had on your hands because of a single, small interaction.
Well, it stood out and didn't fit Thranduil at all, but should you really care that much?
As Legolas said, you and he hadn't even figured out what was going on, just that there was something you both wanted to pursue.
The movie didn't fade you the slightest after the conversation, the next minutes flew past you like they didn't happen at all and when you heard Thranduil come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen, you flew from the couch.
"Be right back," you muttered as you ducked past Legolas and Aragorn; the latter brushing his hand over yours to give it a gentle squeeze.
The momentum that led to you standing up in the first place left you at the sight of Thranduil's turned back, hunched over a plate of chocolate cake Legolas had bought while shopping for snacks.
He looked so weary and tired, deep worry lines indicating his age, still attractive and even more now that he had his hair up in a bun and wore sweatpants you'd never seen him in, but yes, exhaustion was written all over his face when he turned around.
"Hi," you shuffled around, making a lame hand movement that was neither a wave nor anything else, "Should I go? No forget that, of course I'll leave you alone. Never asked, alright? Bye—"
"Stay?"
The question was soft and almost overshadowed by the squeaks of fear coming from the TV.
"I…," you started, stammering but when Thranduil held out the plate and the cake he was still shoveling into his mouth in big bites, you agreed. "Of course."
You jumped onto the counter next to him, ignoring how the sight of sweatpants, gray slightly baggy but not baggy enough sweatpants!, up close messed up every single thought swarming around your head like busy bees.
He leaned back against the counter beside you, ankles crossed and his head thunked against one of the hanging cabinets on the wall.
For a while, all you did was let Thranduil feed you bites of the cake, taking every fork he held up to your mouth carefully and swallowing the questions you wanted to ask with it.
He ate as well, lifting one bite after the other to his lips in between feeding you and every time your eyes hung onto his plush mouth.
Not because his rosy lips looked especially enticing with chocolate cream smeared into their corners, but because of the indications of his teeth in them, in the raw bitten look of them that told you there was definitely something going on.
"Hey," you nudged your leg against his side, "do you want to talk about it?"
The sigh that left his throat sounded more like the groan of a pained animal, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed another bite before placing the plate on the kitchen island.
"You don't have to," you followed up in a rush, not wanting to corner him or force him.
"I should." Thranduil kicked one foot against the counter and turned his head so he looked at you.
Sitting up there, you were close enough to reach over and, in a moment of spontaneity, wipe away the chocolate on his lips.
He caught your hand, pressing a quick kiss onto your palm and keeping it in his when he dropped them.
"Yes, I should absolutely tell you," he swallowed again, "you have a right to now as someone.. as someone important in my life." The way he talked and furrowed his eyebrows showed how much energy and willpower it took him to admit that.
It meant a lot that he tried and cared about the conversation about opening up and being there, being in.
"I got a call at work today that I didn't expect and I'm still unsure what to make of it." Thranduil's hand tightened ever so slightly. His teeth once again found their place in his lower lip, dragging it back and releasing it.
"A lawyer informed me Legolas' mother wants to talk to me."
The air left your body instantly, the sentence punching you into the gut with an iron fist that had 'shouldn't have asked' imprinted on it and marking you all over.
Thranduil noticed, of course, he did, and lifted your intertwined hands for another kiss onto your knuckles.
"I told them not to bother me again," he clarified fast, "Told them ten years ago, told them now."
"Legolas told me that happened," you admitted quietly and let your head fall on top of his shoulders.
"I hope he told you that I had never any interest in keeping contact or searching that woman. I respected her choice to step away from our lives; she expressed a reluctance to embrace motherhood, and I had no authority to impose that role on her if it brought genuine discontent."
"Yes, he said that as well to comfort me."
"And I presume it did not?" Thranduil spoke forward into the otherwise empty kitchen and you followed his words with your eyes, searching the tiled floor for the courage to jump over that damn river of worries that hindered you from opening up.
He did it as well, you thought, he said you had a right to know, that you were someone important in his life.
"No," you finally acquiesced, feet firmly planted onto the metaphorical ground.
"Not the slightest. There is this woman I don't know, the mother of my best friend and the ex-partner of this man I really like and she's a total mystery and suddenly I hear she tried contacting you a few years back and now again and my mind can't help but project that she would be a much better fit to you than me."
There was a pause as the words sunk in.
Then Thranduil turned, opening up your legs with his large hands and stepping in between them.
The dimmed kitchen lights made this intimate, tension there was none for the look in his eyes spoke more of worry and his hands placing themselves under your thighs to pull you closer with effortless strength acted more out of the need to hold you than anything sexual.
"Darling," Thranduil's face filled your entire vision, the impact of the worry etched into the darker circles under his eyes hitting you square into the heart. "I can follow that train of worry and this is not me dismissing it but rather me questioning myself and my actions. Have I given you a reason to believe you're not the only one I want to spend my time with? You alone roam through my house and my head and dreams as if you own them, no one else."
You shook your head and rested your free hand on his chest, splaying your entire palm on the crimson sweater he wore, "Never. But she's probably your age and I'm... well I'm not."
"That is true. She is my age and you are not. She's also– what did Legolas say ten years ago?" He thought back, "Ah yes," he tipped his head closer, leaning his forehead against yours, "No one important. No one worth a second thought. No one, and now those are my words, that would come between you and me."
Your hands wandered, trailing up his collarbone standing out, and up his cold throat.
The hairs you brushed on his neck were still slightly wet, curling at the bottom as they slowly dried. "Then why were you this worried?"
He paused, mirroring you and cupping your face in his warmed hands, "This plagued me for different reasons. A part of me feared you would get scared and I might lose you, and the other was circling the dumb idea that Legolas could be angry that I blocked her off."
"So it was stupid of me to be jealous," you exhaled a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight being lifted of your heart as Thranduil's thumb followed the curve of your jaw and chin.
"Feelings are never stupid, they are valid in every form as long as you don't single them out or ignore your mind. And for you, that's really important because you have a really clever mind." He tapped your temple with his pointer.
A laugh escaped you, easing up the tension. "We're getting good at this," you said and nuzzled your head into his palm, "y'know, talking."
"I do feel very wise right now," Thranduils voice was airy and light, falling into that usual banter you guys were so much better at.
"Mhm, must be the age."
Where his voice had been light, his chuckle was deep and throaty, the tone rasping over every word he spoke: "My age allows for exceptional knowledge in many areas."
If you had been a maid in earlier times, that statement would've caused you to faint and even now it brought a heavy blush to your face at the directness in it.
Because you neither knew what to answer nor to do, you lightheartedly shoved him away, and while you regretted not going in for a kiss, the euphoric feeling that spread through you as he chased behind you through the kitchen made up for it.
"Come on, Grandpa," you giggled, swatting away his arm as he reached for your middle, "Use your knowledge to protect this fair maiden from the movie we're watching."
Legolas's head turned just as you entered the living room, the skeptic look on his face morphing into an understanding smile when Thranduil followed close behind you.
"Fair maiden?" he snorted, "Please, as if."
"Shut up Las," you hit his head as you passed him, nearly hitting Aragorns chest as well and wow, when did they decide that showing their affection in front of Thranduil wouldn't lead to instant death?
You settled into the cushions again, pulling Thranduil next to you.
There was a passing look between Thranduil and Legolas, where Legolas raised an eyebrow daring his father to say anything, and then between Thranduil and Aragorn, where they both nodded at each other before turning away; Thranduil to you, Aragorn to Legolas.
It was so weird, your lips curled.
Then you realized the movie was paused, the screen showing the beginning rather than the middle where you'd left.
"Noo," you whined as realization hit you, "You didn't continue!"
"Why would we? It's so much funnier if you're crying and screaming," Legolas teased and you fired a look of pure hatred at him that he reflected with an angelic smile.
Next to you, Thranduil had made himself comfortable, long legs stretched out and one arm lifted onto the cushions, giving you an encouraging nod to come closer.
You followed the invitation, huddling closer until you were nearly glued to his side and, after drawing the blanket over the both of you, his arm found its place on your hip, fingertips lifting your shirt just enough for him to feel the warmth of your stomach under his spread palm.
"Don't worry," he whispered and his nose nudged the crown of your head, "I scream much louder watching these movies. Now, Legolas, know that after this movie you're in for spilling wine again and ruining the carpet!"
"Wasn't me." Legolas tipped his chin to the wine glass next to where you'd sat when Thranduil had come home instead of telling him that there was in fact no stain or no ruined carpet.
"Oh," Thranduil's hand started circling your stomach, causing the army of butterflies in there to fly high, "then don't worry, sweetheart. I hated it anyway, ugly color, so much white. I'll buy a new one in red if you like that color that much."
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emyn-arnens · 5 months
Text
For Charity
Minas Tirith hosts its first-ever Charity Auction for Widows and Orphans of the War. Some of the participants are less enthusiastic than others. Feat. Boromir, Faramir, Éomer, Aragorn, Éowyn, Lothíriel, and Imrahil, with a side of Eothiriel. 2k. Also on AO3. I was inspired by @emilybeemartin's art of Boromir in a wet shirt and @hobbitwrangler's tags on the post, and this happened.
Boromir picked up the shirt laid out upon his bed. It was a flimsy white thing, hardly worthy of being called a shirt. And it was, according to Faramir, explicitly required. With a long-suffering sigh, Boromir pulled the shirt over his head. For charity, he reminded himself.
He looked down at himself. Every inch of his skin showed through the shirt. He might as well not be wearing a shirt.
As he left his room, Boromir refused to look in the looking glass that hung upon the wall.
Catching sight of Faramir turning down the corridor, Boromir raced to catch up. “You must do everything you can to ensure that Éomer wins,” Boromir said, falling into stride with his brother.
Faramir turned and laid his hand on Boromir's shoulder, smiling broadly. “Dear brother, the outcome is in the hands of the crowd. Do not expect to get special privileges from me merely because I am your brother. I have only a small role in the event as it is.” 
Boromir groaned.
With a chuckle, Faramir clapped Boromir on the shoulder and started off down the hallway again. “But fear not!” Faramir said over his shoulder. “Éowyn and I have plans set in place.”
“What sort of plans?” Boromir called after him.
“You will see,” Faramir said evasively. Boromir could hear the laughter in his voice.
Not for the first time, Boromir wondered if it might have been better to have fallen in battle than to deal with Faramir and Éowyn’s machinations.
The sky above the Pelennor was grey and sunless. A fine mist of rain fell over the field, where brightly colored tents and canopies dotted the ground around the outer wall of the city in anticipation of Minas Tirith’s inaugural charity auction for the widows and orphans of the war. Many of the onlookers gathered underneath the tents, little deterred by the weather. From the conversations Boromir caught as he walked by, it sounded as if they were already placing their bets.
Éomer beckoned Boromir to join him near the stage. He had rolled up the sleeves of his own flimsy shirt, revealing his forearms. Beads of water clung to his hair, and his shirt, stuck to his skin from the misty rain, left little to the imagination.
A glance at his own shirt told Boromir that he looked much the same. Blast this auction.
“Why are we doing this again, Éomer?” Boromir grumbled.
“It’s for charity,” Éomer said without looking at him. His gaze was fixed to the right, where Éowyn and Lothíriel sat beneath a canopy, reclining upon cushions and eating from a bowl they shared between them. “It’s for widows and orphans.” Éomer turned with unnecessary force, sending his hair fanning about his shoulders—Boromir suspected for Lothíriel’s benefit, for she and Éowyn watched them with great interest—as he turned to face Boromir.
The distance was not so great and the drizzle of rain not so thick that Boromir could not see the way that Lothíriel’s gaze followed Éomer appreciatively. She and Éowyn bent their heads together and whispered furtively.
“I am not certain the widows are here solely for the charitable donations they are about to receive,'' Boromir said, for indeed many of the widows, gathered next to the stage so that donors might see those they were assisting, looked upon Éomer, Boromir, and the other men of Rohan and Gondor assembled near the stage with open admiration and many a wandering glance.
“All the better for them.” Éomer grinned.
Boromir picked at his shirt. The fabric only clung to his skin even more. “Must these be so thin?”
Footsteps sounded behind them. “You have stayed in fine form, my friend,” said the king’s voice, tinged with laughter. Aragorn stepped into view and thumped Boromir on the back. “I am certain the widows are appreciative.” He clasped Boromir’s shoulders firmly and looked him up and down. His lips twitched with barely contained laughter. “Very appreciative, indeed.”
Boromir crossed his arms and bit his tongue.
“You should stand that way on the stage,” Éomer put in. “It’s very flattering.”
Boromir quickly uncrossed his arms.
Aragorn laughed. “Good luck, my friends.” He bade them farewell and went to join Arwen.
Imrahil’s voice rang out over the fields, bidding the onlookers welcome and laying out the rules of the auction. The crowd was to bid upon who they thought was the most handsome of the men of the Mark and of Gondor, and all proceeds would go to the widows and orphans. “And the prize of this auction,” Imrahil said, pausing for effect, “is a kiss from the man who has received the highest bid. He shall bestow it upon the willing recipient of his choosing.”
Boromir heard more than one sigh from the direction of the audience.
Boromir had already decided that if he were to win, he would bestow the honor upon Beregond’s young daughter, Míriel, who was starstruck by her Uncle Boromir and Uncle Faramir. (Beregond and his wife, Idhres, had chastised her many times for calling the princes thus, but Boromir did not mind.) The rules, after all, did not state the nature of the promised kiss. A kiss upon the forehead or hand was still a kiss.
Faramir stood behind the stage, directing the men into a single line. He had declined to participate on the grounds of being a married man.
Would that Boromir had such an excuse. Bachelorhood had its disadvantages.
Imrahil introduced the first man, one of Éomer’s former Éored, if Boromir was not mistaken, though ahead of him Éomer seemed not to notice. Members of the audience shouted bids, and Imrahil recorded the highest in his ledger.
The bidding continued on in a drone of voices. Boromir paid no mind to it.
Éomer stomped impatiently and tugged at the low neck of his shirt. He turned to Boromir. “How do I look?” If Boromir did not know Éomer so well, he might have said that his friend seemed nervous. But Éomer had never been one to fear.
“Wet. Nearly shirtless.” The mist had turned to a light rain by now, and their shirts had become entirely translucent. Boromir pushed his dripping hair from his face.
“Do you think—” Éomer was cut off by Faramir gesturing for him to ascend the steps to the stage.
Boromir waved Éomer away. “Go. Take all of the bids for me.”
Éomer climbed the stairs, and Imrahil announced him. “And now, the King of the Mark! Who will bid upon this paragon of Rohirric—”
“Virility!” The shout came from the direction of Éomer’s guardsmen, who nudged each other and laughed, saluting their king with their steins of ale.
“Virtue,” Imrahil finished drily, though Boromir knew the man well enough to recognize the slight twitch in his lips that belied his humor.
The men of Rohan booed good-naturedly.
“Do I have a bid for Éomer King?” Imrahil called.
“We will bid!” several voices shouted. 
Boromir squinted through the rain. Three men were standing up in the middle of the crowd—his cousins. That meant trouble.
“What is your bid?” asked Imrahil, sounding suddenly weary.
“Two hundred castars,” Amrothos said. Only a prince’s purse—or several, as it were—could bear to part with such a sum. And it was, to Boromir’s dim recollection of the morning’s bidding, the highest bid that had been named yet.
“Does anyone have a higher bid?”
Silence fell over the onlookers.
Imrahil sighed. “Very well. Bring your money to the collection table to be counted.” He noted the sum in his ledger.
Faramir gestured for Boromir to climb the stairs to the stage. Clearly biting back laughter, he patted Boromir’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
“I have no desire for good fortune,” Boromir groused.
“Then I wish you luck in losing.”
Boromir climbed the stairs to applause from the crowd.
Imrahil smiled warmly at him, then turned to the crowd. “Who will bid upon Gondor’s very own captain?”
Various voices shouted bids, but none reached the sum named by Imrahil’s sons. Boromir breathed a sigh of relief and descended the stairs on the opposite side of the stage, picking out Éomer in the crowd and moving toward him.
Éomer clapped him on the shoulder. “You need not have feared.”
Boromir shook his head, laughing. “My cousins seem intent on your winning. Knowing them, they have contrived some plot.”
Éomer stilled.
Boromir studied him, recalling Faramir’s words that morning. Perhaps his and Éowyn’s plan was connected to whatever Imrahil’s sons had concocted. It would be very unlike his brother, who had never had close friendship with their Dol Amroth cousins, but it was possible.
Éomer’s affection for Lothíriel, and hers for him, were readily apparent to all. Imrahil’s protectiveness of his only daughter was equally apparent and had appeared to be a sticking point in anything coming of their feelings for each other.
Hiding a smile and leaving Éomer to his worries, Boromir turned to watch the rest of the auction. He had had no need to fear, indeed.
The last bid was called, and Imrahil tallied the bids in his ledger. Éomer had grown steadily paler during the rest of the auction, and he now was visibly fidgeting.
“The bids have been tallied!” Imrahil’s voice rang out over the field. “Éomer King received the highest bid. Please come to the stage and make your selection.”
Éomer walked to the stage with all the enthusiasm of a man headed to the gallows. Sudden movement at the front of the audience caught Boromir’s eye. Amrothos and Erchirion had moved to stand in front of something—or someone. 
Boromir glanced at the tent where Éowyn and Lothíriel had been sitting. Lothíriel was gone, and only Éowyn and Faramir stood beneath the tent, whispering to each other.
“Who do you choose, Éomer?” Imrahil said.
Éomer stood before the stage looking far less confident than he had earlier that morning.
“Perhaps our sister?” came a shout from the crowd. Amrothos and Erchirion pushed Lothíriel in front of them.
Éomer froze. Imrahil crossed his arms, visibly displeased.
Boromir bit back a laugh.
“She is very beautiful, do you not think?” Amrothos pushed Lothíriel closer to the stage until she stood an arm’s length away from Éomer.
Éomer appeared to be having difficulty speaking.
Whispers ran through the crowd.
Éomer finally stirred and reached out to take Lothíriel’s hand in his. He bent and quickly kissed her hand, then stepped back.
But Lothíriel did not pull away. Rather, she tugged on Éomer’s hand and drew him closer, then kissed him sweetly upon the lips. Her brothers erupted in hoots and hollers, and the crowd broke out in cheers.
Imrahil’s frown deepened.
Lothíriel stepped away from Éomer, looking only slightly abashed, and mouthed an apology to her father.
Éomer stood like a man knocked over the head.
“That concludes the Charity Auction for Widows and Orphans of the War,” Imrahil said at last, just barely audible over the excitement of the crowd.
Smiling and shaking his head, Boromir stepped away and made his way to Faramir and Éowyn’s tent, where they stood clapping.
Boromir joined them. “Could you not have told me of your plans beforehand?”
“And risk spoiling our plans? Look how happy they are,” Éowyn said. Indeed, Éomer seemed more at ease surrounded by Lothíriel’s eager brothers and bolstered by the cheering of the crowd, and Lothíriel was smiling widely.
“They only needed a little nudge,” Faramir agreed.
“I am surprised you took part in this conspiracy,” Boromir said to his brother.
Faramir wrapped his arm around Éowyn’s waist. “I wish for everyone to have the happiness that I have found. And it was Éowyn and Lothíriel’s plan.” That was less surprising. Éowyn and Lothíriel were fast friends.
Faramir patted Boromir's shoulder. “Did you really believe that I would let you suffer so?”
“Yes,” Boromir said.
Faramir and Éowyn laughed gaily. “It will be your turn next time,” Faramir said with a grin.
Boromir cuffed him.
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lanitalay · 2 months
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One day : Chapter 1
Azriel x Reader
a/n: I saw the netflix series, bawled my eyes out then thought it would make a great Az x reader story.
warnings: anxiety, drinking
word count: 1555k
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Summer Solstice was your favorite holiday. Each year you look forward to celebrating the longest day of the year in the most beautiful city in the world. This year would be slightly different, as you were no longer a student, having recently graduated to proper healer. So, for the first time in years, you were able to stay up until the sun set and came back out because there were no readings to do, no papers to write and no seminars to attend the next day. You had informed Madja that you would not be coming in tomorrow and she had understood. “I was young and capricious as well, long, long ago.”
The day was spent at the Sidra, lounging and playing in the sand and the water. It was packed, thousands of fae clamoring to the shore to watch the High Lord’s ship pass by. Cheering for it. When the sun set your friends dragged you back to their apartment to get ready for the night ahead. The Rainbow would be filled with street vendors, music and art. 
“I can’t possibly drink more” you gagged as more sparkling wine was shoved in your hand. “Suck it up!” Nomi laughed and poured a glass for herself. Bec did your hair, curling it in loose waves. Fran did your makeup, smoking out dark shadows in your eye lid. Nomi gave you a short, short dress. The four of you admired the collective beauty in the mirror, even if not one of you could see straight. 
“Onwards!” Fran called and opened the door to let everyone stumble out. 
A few hours after drinking, eating and dancing in the street, Bec insisted she needed to sit down. You were looking around to see where you could take her when you spotted a familiar sign. “Let’s go to Rita’s, she’ll let us sober up in there” you guided your friends through the crowd, weaving in between all kinds of fae until arriving at the sanctuary. 
Rita recognized you and waved you in, sitting you down in one of the booths. The place was not quiet by any means, but the seats were cushioned and Bec sighed in relief as she took off her heels under the table. “These shoes rubbed my feet raw,” she hissed. You waved your hand over her feet and channeled some of your healing powers to her blisters. “Oh my gods, thank you, y/n.” You laughed and announced to the table “I’m going to get more drinks.” 
It had been ten minutes of standing by the bar, trying to get someone’s attention. “Hey! I need liquor!” You heard a low laugh behind you and turned around to see a looming figure, wings tight against his back, biting back a smile. “What’s so funny?” Always confrontational when drunk. He shook his head “nothing, can I order something for you?” 
You considered his offer. He was much, much taller than you. If he wanted, he could reach through the bar and grab a bottle of wine. There was a cloudiness to him, or maybe you were far too drunk. You nodded and told him what the table wanted. He waved the barkeep down and placed the order. “Are you the spymaster?” He nodded once. “I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand, as much as you could within the multitude of party goers. He shook it gently with a calloused hand “nice to meet you, y/n.” 
In a few minutes the four drinks were on the bar, Azriel helped you carry them back to the table. When your friends saw who was behind you their jaws practically unhinged. “Thank you, Spymaster.” “Azriel is fine” he said with a smile, and gods… that smile.  “Thank you, Azriel.”
You wanted to drown yourself in the Sidra when Nomi, ever fearless, shouted over the music “does the Spymaster dance?” 
“I could, with the right partner” he turned his head to look at you. “Are you inviting me to dance?" 
“Yes,” now it was him who had a hand stretched your way. You did not have to convince yourself to dance with him. Putting the glasses on the table, you turned and took his hand, letting him lead you right to the dance floor. 
It must have been hours that you spent dancing that night. At one point your friends came over to let you know they were going to call it. Azriel asked if you wanted to leave as well but his hips were grinding against your behind and his arms were firmly holding your waist. So you shook your head “no.” When the song changed he spun you, slotting your legs together, keeping you impossibly close. So close his nose nudged yours. By then, last calls were being made and you asked Azriel if he could walk you back to your apartment. 
He led you out of Rita’s and you pointed in the direction of your place. Azriel did not let go of your hand until you stopped in front of a building and said “this is me.” He looked at the stone building, decorated with flower boxes on the windows “it's nice.” 
“Can I get you some water? Something to eat?” The night could not end like this. You didn’t want this night to end at all. So when he nodded you beamed and opened the door, walking up the three flights of stairs to get to your apartment. “I have bread and…” you looked through the cabinets and were embarrassed that you had not stocked up on any groceries in weeks “chocolate chip cookies, but they are probably stale.” 
“I’ll try a cookie” he bit into it and grimaced “it’s very stale, throw that away.” You giggled and threw the cookies in the trash. When you turned back to face him he was right in front of you. A hair's breadth away. “You know you’re quite beautiful,” you gulp, “you’re very handsome too.”
His hands come up to graze your cheek, “I really want to kiss you.” 
“So kiss me” it doesn’t take him more than a second to bring your lips together. You hold onto his shoulders and he pushes you pack until he helps you jump on the counter. Your legs spread, wanting him to get closer, closer. He pulls back to ask “where’s your room?” You point to the door behind him and he grabs your thighs, carrying you towards a proper place to bed you. 
Ever so gently, he lays you down on your bed but you stand, turning so your back faces him. “I can’t reach the zipper,” with a feather-light touch he grabs the tiny piece of metal and slides it all the way down. You pull off the straps and let the fabric pool at your feet. Turn again to face this, this time completely bare.
“Your turn,” you start to undo his buttons but he quickly takes over, throwing his clothes on the floor next to yours.  Now you lay on the mattress and he settles on top of you, latching his mouth to yours once again. “Are you alright?” You notice his heart is beating erratically and place a palm on his chest to assess. “Yes, I’m-” “You’re having heart palpitations, lie down, let me do something” you push him on his back, hand still on his chest as you try to soothe the distressed organ. 
“I’m a healer, I’m going to send some magic to your heart to calm it down. It won't hurt but it might feel tingly.” You bring all your concentration to his heart. “It’s really fine-” “Shh, be quiet.” 
A few minutes go by and you are satisfied with his pulse. “Does that happen often? How much did you drink tonight?” 
“Sometimes and a lot.”
“Well try to limit your drinking to water for the next few weeks, I’ll tell Madja to check up on you soon.”
“Perfect, now can we get back to-”
“Absolutely not, you are going to sleep right now, stay here.” You hop off the bed again and throw on a night gown, and throw him pajama pants an ex had left behind. Azriel looks defeated on the bed. “Sorry to kill the mood, but I vowed to put my patients' health first. It's not something I can turn off.”
“Now I’m your patient?” 
“Everyone is a potential patient,” you say and fluff a pillow for him to lay on. “You don’t need to do that,” he grumbles. 
“Just relax.” You fluff your own pillow and lay down next to him. “It happens to me too. Madja calls them panic attacks, they can happen for no reason or a million reasons. It sucks.” 
“We didn’t need to stop, you know?” 
“Yeah, yeah. We can try again some other time.”
“So you want to see me again?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”
“The Spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t scare you?”
“Ha, good one. I can’t be scared of a patient and don't flatter yourself. You're too pretty to be scary” you teased. 
“Come here,” he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. His heart steady.
“Tomorrow I’ll regret not drinking any water,” you mumble, words spilling into each other as the  weight of the day crashes into you, sleep taking over.
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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Omg omg HC to spare? Pls Toji lovingly and slowly seduces you and fucks you so intimately on the couch while you’re riding him to “come and talk to me” by Jodeci. The relationship started off as a one night stand between acquaintances,  and now y’all fuck so frequently and so intimately. Locked eyes and pet names and praises that will make one would watched think y’all were DEEPLY in love 😩😩😩 pls you’re my favorite writer and I know I MF KNOW you’ll eat this shit up and make it art
honeyyyyy, I ain’t even no *huge* Toji girl (bc he still fine as hell, don’t get me wrong!) like that but what??? oh this is so sexy 😫 like this might be my awakening for this man!! May have to spin the block and do a full fic of this one day but yeah..
cw: riding, pet names (sweetness, doll, love) hand holding, praise kink
“Mmm..Toji, fuck!..right there, baby. That’s my spot.”
“I know, doll..oh god, you’re gripping me so fucking tight..”
the exchange between (y/n) and your long time lover entering yet another hour as the two of you engaged in various rounds of wonderful sex; inviting him over for yet another night cap that involved a little bit of white wine, wooing you with his sweet words, a massage and some sensual R&B music. Jodeci hummed through the speakers of the flatscreen mounted to the wall. Now here you were being impaled and bounced relentlessly atop Toji Fushiguro’s thick cock. That plump ass colliding and ricocheting off of his pelvis while your hands intertwined and balanced you in his firm grasp. That chiseled body and perfect physique lying underneath you; a giant smile plastered on his face from the smacking of your sweat slicked skin; the contrast of your tones flickering underneath the pale candlelight..it was the scene reminiscent of a romance movie. One that had been reoccurring for many months on end with it only improving every time. Learning and exploring one another’s bodies, falling deeper in love each time you make it. Tonight in particular was rather special, as Toji was just returning home from a business trip and the first person he came to visit upon touching back down was none other than you. Bearing flowers and gifts, he arrived at your doorstep; dressed in his signature black button down that exposed the chest, small silver necklace and black pants..his cologne wafting through your nostrils as well. All of which you had worked him out of by now, twirling the thin silver chain around your fingertip as you rode him to kingdom come. Obsessing over every square inch and crevice of each other’s flesh throughout the course of the night. “Toji, baby.. ‘m, so close..I’m gonna come again!” “Just keep going, sweetheart. Oh shit, you’re fucking me so good..” continuing to clutch hands as he began bucking his upward into you. That deep voice ringing out in your ear…shooting off expletives and singing your praises simultaneously. “You take me so good, sweetheart. Wrapping around my dick like this.” “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Oh God, you’re incredible.” Telling you all the sweet nothings to make you happy and even wetter than before. Filling you with every inch of him. The mixture of your messy climaxes seeping down your thighs and onto the cushions of the couch. But none of that mattered; only the time you shared with one another and having moments like this.
anyone from the outside looking in, they would have sworn that you and Mr. Fushiguro were a happily married couple yet it couldn’t be the furthest thing from..in fact, you were nothing more than acquaintances months ago. Practically perfect strangers if you were being honest. But that all but changed when a bad thunderstorm trapped you at his place one night. The two of you had just finished up a project for work and as you were heading it out, it began raining and lightning. Naturally, in good faith, he couldn’t allow you to leave in those conditions. So instead, he gave you a warm place to lie your head for the night and his face to sit on..making you come more times than you had in a lifetime. He was an excellent lover and always made sure to talk you through your orgasms..even taking care of you long after the sex was finished. If your busy schedules had permitted it, you’d make this little affair something more permanent. But for now, you’d enjoy things for what they were and let him have his way. Moving his grasp from your fingers to that waist, holding you still as he thrusted up into you. Muffled grunts escaping his throat..tossing his head back from the pings of pleasure exerting through that lower half. Twitching…throbbing while pounding your pussy. Molding you to his shape to ensure you’d want no one else but him inside of it when he finished..and that there was no other woman for him except (y/n) . Which he’d spend every waking second until the sunrise proving.
“Fuck..I swear I’ll always come back to you, baby. Always gonna be yours.”
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charmerchannie · 1 month
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Monday: Seungmin
Head is spinnin' masterlist
Seungmin x reader
Um, this isn't exactly smut. It's not exactly not smut. It's just a heavy makeout sesh <3 we are just warming up. Minors dni
Intro: you often help the students at your art school by modeling for their projects. But your services aren't free. You always get something in return.
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You text Seungmin your address, and he knocks on the door right on time. You open the door wearing black cotton shorts and a thin white t-shirt that you're aware is slightly see-through. You’re surprised to see such a young looking boy in front of you. He’s clearly very handsome with his full lips and beautiful eyes. His hair looks so soft and fluffy that you have to consciously tell yourself not to reach out and touch it.
“You must be Seungmin,” you say and he nods. “I’m Y/N. Come on in,” you smile and step aside so he can enter your apartment. You technically have a roommate, but she has a boyfriend and rarely spends evenings in your home anymore, so you’re home alone. There are situations in which that might worry you, but you always tell her if someone is coming over and when, just in case, and Seungmin looks far too innocent for you to worry. In fact, he’s so innocent looking you’re starting to wonder just what kind of payment you’re going to extract from the kid in exchange for your time, because he’s clearly not prepared for you to ruin him, nor are you prepared to mess with something so pure. Maybe you can convince him to order a pizza.
“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says politely, nervously clutching to the strap of his backpack.
“Sure, no problem. You said it’s drawing class?” you ask as he stands awkwardly in your living room.
“Yeah. We’re doing faces this week, and I didn’t know who to ask, so that graduate student, Chan, gave me your number,” he explained. You knew the drill; you've known Chan for a while, and he was never shy about giving out your information.
“Please have a seat. The lighting over here is pretty good, but if you think we should change something, just let me know.” You gesture to the seating area where there’s a couch and a chair and invite him to sit wherever he wants. “Do you want some water or something?”
“No. I’m okay,” he says timidly. He takes a seat on the couch, so you decide to sit in the chair. He rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans before he unzips his backpack and pulls out his supplies.
"How do you want me?" you ask once he's settled.
"Just make yourself comfortable," he smiles nervously. You wonder if he'll even be able to draw through the nerves he's been displaying since he knocked on your door.
You're tired from the day, so you lean back into the chair and allow your head to rest against the side. Your head is slightly angled up. You curl one leg in toward you and let the other dangle over the armrest.
"Is this okay?"
He gets up to move from the cushion at the end of the couch farthest from you to the center. "Can you turn your face just an inch toward me? That's perfect," he says when you do.
You relax and he begins sketching. You think about talking, to find out more about him, but you aren't really interested; you're just a little bored. You put on some music and sit patiently.
“How’s it coming?” you ask a while later after you notice that the scratching of his pencil has stopped for almost a minute.
He shakes his head a bit as if to clear it. “Um. Fine. There’s just something a little...off, I think?” he looks from his drawing to you and back several times.
“Can I see?” you ask casually. He nods, and you rise from your chair to come sit very close to him. Your knee touches his and your biceps brush as you lean in to look at his work. He can smell your coconut shampoo. You take a moment to observe the details closely. Not only are you familiar with your own face, but you also have a lot of experience seeing it drawn. You know which are the features that many find it difficult to capture. Honestly, his work is pretty good, but he’s correct; something's not quite right. “It’s my mouth,” you tell him. “You’ve got the shape a bit off.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, looking again.
You turn around so that you're still close to him, but now you're facing him, sitting back on your heels with your hands resting on your bare thighs. “See, take a closer look,” you tell him, trying to angle your face like it was before. You can hear his slightly heavy breathing as he observes you. It takes him a second to gather his thoughts after looking at your slightly parted lips. He lifts his hand to capture your chin between his thumb and index fingers and tilts your face more toward him. He's still staring at your lips, soft and pink from your obsessive use to lip balm.
"You're really beautiful, Y/n," he says quietly. You're so close that he barely needs to speak at all. He can't help himself when he brushes his thumb along the edge of your full bottom lip. The move takes you by surprise with its boldness. He expects you to pull away, but he sees you swallow, and his hand cups your jaw before slowly moving down to caress your neck. "I'm sorry. It’s just that I've been staring at your lips for so long, and I...can I kiss you?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to yours.
There's something really charming to you about his mix of nerves and audacity. He just met you. You're two years older than him. And when he walked in, you told yourself you were not going to destroy this boy's innocence. But what harm could there be in a kiss? His lips are full and red, and you would like to know what they felt like on yours.
"Yes," you nod.
He slowly closes the distance between his face and yours, angling you once again to have you where he wants you. It's as chaste as you expect at first. Nothing more than the pressing together of lips, like pilgrims' hands. He pulls away and smiles a slightly arrogant smile, like he's proud of himself, you think. He's not proud of what he's done, but rather what he plans to do. His fingers entangle in your hair, and he pulls you to him this time, pressing your lips together more deliberately. He captures your bottom lip between his, pulling gently to open your mouth before releasing you. You place both your hands on his neck to keep him from pulling away and capture his lips again, grazing your teeth along his pillowy bottom lip. Your tongues come out to meet, and you notice how considerate he was to brush his teeth before he came over.
Seungmin puts his sketchbook down on the seat beside him. He places both hands on your hips to pull you onto his lap, and you wonder for the first time if he's actually as innocent and pure as he looks. You go with it regardless and wind your fingers into his hair as your tongues dance. He pulls your pelvis tight down against him and moans softly into your mouth, making your core ache and fill with need. You need to get control of yourself, but he's such a good kisser, using exactly the right amount of tongue and not too much slobber. If nothing else, he's certainly experienced at this. His hands run down to your ass and give you a squeeze before continuing to your thighs. He rubs them firmly, fingers brushing curiously under the hem of your shorts while you make a conscious effort not to grind on him as you can feel him hardening beneath you. This has been fun, but you need to stop before you do something you'll regret, and you almost can't believe you're thinking that because you never stop and you never regret it. But you pull away anyway, giving his hair a slight tug as his lips try to follow yours.
You clear your throat. "You probably need to finish that," you say, trying to sound normal and not aroused, but there’s still a huskiness to your voice.
Seungmin looks to the sketchbook to his right and sighs. He picks it up and holds it between you as you lean back onto his knees. You know you should move, but you sense he doesn't want you to. He erases a portion of your lip that he's drawn to adjust the curve of it, so it's right.
"There," he says showing it to you when he's done.
You take the sketchbook from his hands and slowly stand from his lap as you examine it. "You're really talented," you tell him as you consider the extremely lifelike rendition of your face.
"Thank you. You're a good model," he compliments you. He slowly packs his supplies away to give himself time to settle down. You give him back the sketchbook and linger between him and the door. He picks up the message that it's time to leave and stands with a sigh.
"I guess I owe you. Coffee or something? Maybe tomorrow?" He offers, hoping you’ll say yes, and maybe he can actually get to know you.
"No, I think I've already collected my payment," you smile slyly.
He chuckles. "Mm, then maybe we can do this again sometime?" He clutches the strap of his backpack, his nerves having returned.
"Sure. Let me know anytime you need a muse," you smile. He smiles back and quickly leaves when you open the door.
You throw yourself onto the couch and grin, remembering his hands and lips on you and his minty breath on your face. You check your phone.
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In his class that week, Seungmin turns in his portrait of you, now decorated in full color. The professor takes it and gives it a cursory glance.
“Ah, the famous Ms. Y/n,” he smiles knowingly at Seungmin, who blushes and smiles broadly in return.
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A/n: there is another Seungmin part that is actually smutty. Tell me in the comments if you wanna see it ;)
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