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#making some sketch sheets for the boys
xenocorner · 1 year
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I love making him sad and I love making him happy orz
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kennahjune · 4 months
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No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”
But Eddie fucking hates it.
And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.
Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.
Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.
Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.
Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.
And Eddie just downright refuses.
And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.
Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.
Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.
Eddie sits in brooding silence.
And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.
Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).
But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.
Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.
But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.
Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).
Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?
They listen.
Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.
And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.
But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.
And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.
Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.
Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.
Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.
.
I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh
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hothammies · 1 month
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will byers, the resident sniper and medic - apoc au details under the cut!
---
will's role in the party:
a scouter - stays back to watch over the area during runs w/his rifle and is a backup supply runner if need be. just prefers to scout with dustin and mike
medic - normally takes care of the group regarding injuries and medicine. is very gentle :)
the angel on mike's shoulder -> knows how to placate mike the best if mike's being unreasonable or too harsh
most knowledgable about the infection and how it works -> helps with understanding the patterns of infected people, what attracts infection, etc.
party mediator - rarely ever fights with anyone (mostly with mike haha) and is usually the person people most often go to for a vent or a rant
skills + hobbies:
best with a rifle + second best with guns! -> he practices a lot with lucas but refuses to kill animals
cook of the group along with el (taught her how to cook): rest of the party can make edible food but don't know how to make it taste good
great knowledge of plants and medicine -> jonathan and joyce taught him all they know about it (they are healers)
draws in a sketchbook that mike stole from another group for him: filled with mundane sketches from life and treats it like a daily journal
likes to collect cds and cassettes that he finds around to play in the car (him and max discuss music the most) - fave bands include system of a down, gorillaz, the clash and the cure :) he's an alt rock fan!
quirks / fun facts:
him and lucas have an ongoing competition that started with their aim and is now based on literally anything -> they've been keeping score since they were nine (lucas is currently up by ten and the points are in the thousands)
will shuffles different music in the car and observes who in the party likes what so he can make his own little mental playlists for them!
him and dustin talk a lot about how the infection works. they have some very intense debates about it, especially when it comes to if the infected still have human consciousness or not (will thinks they do, dustin thinks they don't)
--- other notes: canon will, in a short summary, is a very sweet, sensitive, empathetic and capable boy who consistently puts others needs before his own :') of course, i wanted apoc will to share those attributes, with a big emphasis on his empathy, strength, and kindness. first - i wanted him to be a medic to show how he cares about other people and how he helps the people he loves as well. it's shown a lot in the show how much he cares for people and living beings (see: his actions with dart, el, mike, feeling bad for jonathan's hand after he had just woken up, etc.) and him being a healer is very in tune with this behavior. will as a healer is very special to me :') and him learning this skill from his mom and his brother strengthens the theme of family also!
second - him being good with a hunting rifle was to showcase his quiet strength and capability (i'd also like to add that his dexterity on his dnd sheet is extremely high) -> he's a non-confrontational survivor. his strength shines from afar and is put on the backlight, but no one in the party thinks will is weak for his empathy. mike and lucas, in particular, are actually quite jealous of the fact that will is still able to see so much good in humanity and life while being so strong. of course, his connection to the upside down in st is mirrored in this au as well, where he has an innate understanding of how the infection works because of experience, observation and other story spoilers...
looking at the current poll results, it seems im going to be drawing lucas and max next :D see you for that!
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rin-fukuroi · 5 months
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Could I request Argenti getting overstimulated by his s/o and turned into a whimpering, sobbing mess via pegging?
Hi! (^0^)ノ
I wanted to write this earlier, but decided that this sketch would be the best snack in front of his banner~
𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐚 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢]
Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.
The originals of my works can be read here
Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Pairings: sub!Argenti x dom!fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, overstimulation, oral sex, pegging.
▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Facading — Freefalling
Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq
I wish everyone good luck on his banner! Let the beautiful knight with a bouquet of fresh roses fly to all who are waiting for him! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ And, God, I think this song is just perfect for Argenti. This voice reminds me of him.
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Luxurious curly scarlet strands stuck to the forehead of the poor Knight, barely restraining himself from going crazy from the heat spreading under his porcelain skin. You are so cruel, plunging his trembling cock deep into the warmth of your mouth over and over again, making the man feel like he is teetering precariously on the verge of a blissful orgasm, but each time you pull him back, not allowing him to step into the desired abyss. Your fingers slide over the heated skin of Argenti's thighs, only intensifying the almost unbearable pleasure that turns the noble knight into a whimpering boy begging you to let him cum.
— Not yet, — tiny beads of tears can be seen in the corners of clouded emerald eyes when you shamelessly take his cock out of your divine mouth again at the moment when Argenti's hips trembled again in your hands, signaling that he was about to cum, which you did not want at all. — Let's do it again, huh? I know you can handle it.
Your smug face blurs before the Knight's eyes as he struggles to hold back tears, desperately biting his lower lip.
— Y/N… My Lady, I beg you… I can't take it anymore, — the man's velvety voice trembles as he whispers huskily, covering his flushed face with his palm and looking away, too embarrassed that you see him in such a mess.
— Well, well, isn't lying against the Knight's code of honor? — you tease, gently sliding your palm up and down the throbbing hard flesh of Argenti's almost painfully aroused cock, playfully running your tongue over the urethra, salty from pre-ejaculate.
The long, elegant fingers of the Knight's free hand are desperately clutching the sheets. The muscles of his prominent abs and muscular forearms are so delightfully tense under the onslaught of waves of pleasure that you let through his body, slowly sinking the pulsating flesh of Argenti's dick deep into the walls of your throat, perfectly contracting around his impressive girth. By now, the Knight has managed to lose all sense of self-esteem, now breaking down into pathetic moans whenever the knot at the bottom of his stomach inevitably trembled from your touch. Those obscene dirty sounds that your soft lips make, sliding up and down the hard flesh as you suck in your cheeks, squeezing even tighter around poor Argenti's cock, only drive him even more crazy. How much longer are you going to keep doing this? Maybe this time you'll finally let him come? He would like to say that he has already lost hope, but for some reason, every time the Knight feels another wave rolling over his trembling body, foreshadowing perhaps the most vivid orgasm in his life, it seems to him that now… now he will be able to cross the line, he will be able to dissolve into pure bliss…
But you still take away from him everything he so passionately desires, thrusting his cock out of your mouth again with a sinful squelching sound. You grin, feeling Argenti's hips squeeze on either side of your shoulders, and watching his perfect body squirm while the men whimper, burying their faces deeper into the pillow, not daring to meet your gaze.
— You did so well for me, Argenti, — you straighten up, climbing onto the man's lap and gently running your palms over his heaving, tense chest.
The poor Knight sobs, hesitantly removing his hand from his face to finally look at you again when you get up from his legs, slowly tightening the straps on your hips. The man's turquoise eyes widen in amazement when he notices a menacingly large dildo between your legs spread on both sides of his knees, while you reach for a small tube of lubricant standing on the bedside table.
— Y/N… I'm not sure.…
— Hush, — you calm the nervously swallowing Argenti. His bleary, red-rimmed eyes watch warily as the viscous transparent liquid slowly drips onto the black silicone toy. Your tiny palm gently slides along the length of the toy cock, distributing the lubricant, and you tilt your head to one side, grinning at the funny reaction of the confused man under you. — You want to cum, don't you?
The Knight's hips shudder when he feels the cool, wet tip of your toy pressing insistently against his ass.
— I'll be gentle, I promise. You believe me, don't you? — the fingertips of your free hand gently touch Argenti's lower abdomen, sending goosebumps up his spine, and a languid sigh escapes from the man's throat as he nods hesitantly, still slightly scared by the thought that all this will end up inside him. — Good boy.
You feel the muscles of the man's thighs contract under your palm, sliding down to grasp the elastic flesh of his leg, while you slowly, carefully sink inside inch by inch, carefully watching how Argenti's eyebrows frown, how his snow-white teeth bite into his soft lower lip, and emerald eyes shine from the newly turning tears in the soft dim light. He's so beautiful when he's teetering precariously between fear and anticipation, feeling his walls instinctively shrink and inevitably stretch around a slippery toy that fills his insides so easily that you can barely restrain yourself from making a sharp push. Ah, you sure that the sounds that you could pluck from his lips with such a careless movement would be no less excellent than the languid sighs that now fill your bedroom.
However, no matter how cruel you were tonight, you wanted to enjoy a little more the charming sight of your artificial cock slowly disappearing, sinking further into the tight walls without a minute of dishonored Knight.
As soon as your hips finally press against the elastic flesh of Argenti's buttocks, the man's back arches so gracefully, and his dick shudders, pressed against the bottom of his stomach, that you can not restrain a smug laugh, clasping the Knight's second thigh with your now free palm. His heels are pressing so desperately into your coccyx, while Argenti unconsciously tries to just hold you for a moment like this, wrapping his trembling legs around your waist.
— Ho—oh, if you want, I can leave this thing in you for at least the whole day, — you tease the flushed Argenti, breathing heavily out of his lungs.
— N-no! I'm sorry, My Lady…
— Good… Good boy, Argenti, — you say affectionately, slowly slipping your toy out of his tight insides only to fill him again just as painfully languidly.
The hard, swollen flesh shudders relentlessly on the man's stomach every time your hips meet his ass more and more insistently. You're slow, which makes Argenti even more of a mess. His long shiny strands of hair are so beautifully scattered on the soft pillows, as if your bed is covered with scarlet rose petals, his porcelain skin glistens slightly from tiny drops of sweat that inevitably flow down the relief of his torso, the muscles of which look even more impressive when strained under the pressure of crushing pleasure. Argenti is truly beautiful at every moment of his life, whenever your gaze falls on his divine figure, but now you feel as if you have created a real masterpiece.
— Why don't you help yourself down there? I don't mind, — you smile softly, noticing how the heavy eyelids of a man lost in bliss open slightly, and you are greeted by a sparkling look of hope from magnificent emerald eyes. — Although I'll never get tired of just fucking you like this, but my loyal Knight deserves a reward, doesn't he?
Argenti exhales, hesitantly letting go of the crumpled sheet before moving his hand to his needy cock.
Although your touch always feels much more pleasant, in the state in which Argenti is now, even touching your own hand becomes akin to the salvation that you graciously granted him. Long fingers wrap around the swollen base of his aching cock, and a groan of relief escapes from the Knight's chest as his head falls back, burrowing deeper into the soft pillow.
You lean over Argenti, now letting go of his trembling legs so that you can rest one hand on the soft mattress and stretch the other out to his beautiful face. The knight flinches when he feels the tips of your little fingers touching his lower lip, insistently slipping into his slightly open mouth. From this angle, your toy seems to penetrate the man lost in pleasure even deeper, forcing his tongue to stick out to meet your two fingers gently pressing on the slippery muscle.
— How beautiful… — you exhale heavily, looking at how Argenti's wet eyelashes tremble while he tries not to close his eyes. — It's a pity you can't see yourself now, a Knight of Beauty like no one else would appreciate the magnificent view that appears before my eyes.
The man's feet slide weakly off your belt, landing on the soft bed, while his hand desperately tightens his cock, dripping with pre-ejaculate, sliding up and down in time with your careless thrusts. Blissful impulses of pleasure drive poor Argenti crazy when he feels himself teetering on the edge again, breaking into sobs and stifled moans from your fingers continuing to press on his tongue. Viscous drops of saliva run down your phalanges and his chin. Argenti looks so pathetic, but so indescribably beautiful that you want to see more.
You want to see how his lovely flushed face, decorated with beads of tears, will distort when he finally gets what he wants.
— Cum for me, Argenti…
Your voice sounds so far away, buried under the frantic pulsations of Argenti's heart in his ears and your own moans bouncing off the walls of your bedroom, but even the sound of him saying his name softly was enough to make his chest press against yours when the Knight's hips came off the rumpled sheets again. Argenti has never felt his orgasm so vividly. It was like a bubble that had been storing up all the pleasure that you had been giving the poor Knight for hours, finally overflowed and burst, spreading blissful waves through every nerve in his body. You instantly pull your fingers out of his mouth, instead occupying his tongue and lips with a greedy kiss in which you swallow every pitiful sound that escapes from his throat. Your artificial cock slides into Argenti's contracting insides and perfect harmony in his own convulsive movements of his hand, desperately caressing a trembling dick while sticky drops of sperm spray over his tense stomach and thin fingers.
What did you do to him? Argenti has never felt so alive, so free and happy as at this very moment, while he could just go limp under your overhanging figure, basking in the blissful vibrations spreading under his skin.
And while you were enjoying the delightful masterpiece created by your hands, pulling away from the Knight's face.
Sparkling emerald eyes rolled under heavy eyelids, a few unruly curly strands stuck to Argenti's perfect relaxed face, his hands flopped down exhausted on the mattress, and his collarbones protrude so magnificently under thin pale skin when a man tries to catch his breath. It seemed like you completely lost him for a few moments, finally stopping your movements and just continuing to stay inside the Knight as he slowly returns to reality.
You carefully leave his ass, hastily unbuckling the straps and throwing the no longer needed toy aside before clinging to his lower abdomen, collecting with your tongue every viscous drop of his sperm splashed over the heated skin. His muscles flex reflexively at the sudden touch, and Argenti finally lazily opens his long eyelashes, meeting your narrowed, satisfied gaze as you pull away from his body, licking your lips with satisfaction.
— Even your taste is so perfect, — you reach out to brush the damp strands from his forehead, and smile softly, looking into the devoted turquoise eyes of the man below you.
Argenti looks away sheepishly before giving you a gentle smile. Although he gets indescribable pleasure showering you with all his boundless love, perhaps next time he won't say a word against it when you express a desire to play with his body again…
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relocatedheads · 1 year
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would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?
where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.
sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.
before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.
Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/
Written Fantasies
Summary: ^^ the ask Pairing: Eddie x Reader Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation
MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!
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The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.
Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.
Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.
The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.
He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.
He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.
It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.
There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.
He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.
Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.
He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.
As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.
He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.
His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:
Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.
He reads down
We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!
yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird
but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.
literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!
like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!
Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.
Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.
And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.
Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.
"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.
You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"
Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"
You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.
After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.
"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."
"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"
"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.
"You were never meant to find out..."
"Why, you know im into anything?"
"Embarassing."
"No its not."
"yes, it is."
"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"
Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"
"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."
You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."
You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""
He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.
"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"
The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."
God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.
Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.
Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.
You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.
The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."
Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.
"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.
It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.
He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.
Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"
You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."
"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."
Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.
And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.
A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.
He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.
The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.
The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.
He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.
He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.
Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"
His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.
"Eddie stop-"
"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.
The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."
The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.
"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.
You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.
You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.
It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.
The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.
"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"
"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.
"Sorry couldn't hear you."
"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.
The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.
"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."
"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.
The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.
"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.
It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.
Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.
Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."
Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.
Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.
Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.
So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.
Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.
"I love you"
"I-love- you too"
He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"
"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."
He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.
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crystallinestars · 3 months
Text
NSFW Alphabet - Kaveh
First time doing one of these, but I'll gradually make other installments for the other boys which you can find here (there's nothing there as of now, though).
I am here to spread the dom Kaveh agenda, and no, I won't accept criticism.
Kaveh x fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kaveh is really good at aftercare, oftentimes pampering you after the act. After sex, he likes to cuddle with you and tell you how happy he is to experience such intimacy with you. If you’re sore, he’ll give you massage and apologize if he was too rough. Even if he’s exhausted, he will force himself to get up and fetch you anything you might need, like water or a towel.
That said, he would appreciate it if you returned the favor and took care of him, too. He won’t outright ask for it, and might even tell you that it’s fine, you don’t need to trouble yourself for him, but it would make him feel incredibly loved if you gave him a massage or helped clean him up.
Kaveh is very picky, so he wants to change the bed sheets after sex because he doesn’t like the idea of sleeping on a dirty bed. If you’re not up for it, some gentle persuasion and distraction can convince him to let it go and fall asleep in your arms instead. Be prepared to change the sheets first thing in the morning, though.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On himself, Kaveh likes his face and hair. He’s very meticulous about how he presents himself to the world and takes great care of his looks. It’s important to him that he looks his best. While he spends a great deal of time taking care of his entire body, he pays special attention to his face and hair. He has clear and smooth skin, delicate features, and very soft hair. Kaveh is very proud of his looks, so any compliments you give him on his appearance swell his ego. Please give him more.
On you, he loves your breasts. Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re beautiful from head to toe, but your breasts hold a special significance to him. After a rough day of dealing with insufferable clients or going through another misfortunate mishap, Kaveh loves nothing more than to lay his head on your soft chest and listen to your heartbeat. He treats your breasts like a pillow, but he finds comfort in being able to rest on top of you like that, especially since he gets to be so close to your heart.
Aside from this innocent reason, Kaveh also simply loves breasts. He’s attracted to their softness, their rounded shape, and overall how feminine they make you look. Expect him to squeeze and kiss them a lot during sex.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Prefers to cum inside you (provided you’re both using protection) because he wants to avoid making a mess. Plus, he finds it more pleasurable to finish while inside you while your walls squeeze around him. It makes him feel a more intimate connection to you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Kaveh will never show them to you if he can help it, but he has a few pages worth of sketches of you naked. Sometimes he daydreams about being intimate with you while he doodles and absentmindedly draws out some of his thoughts on paper. There are a few drawings of just you sprawled out in sensual poses, while others show both you and Kaveh having sex in a variety of poses or him all but worshipping your figure with his lips and hands as if you were a goddess. The sketches look really good, but Kaveh is too embarrassed to show them to you. He’ll be mortified if you see them, but maybe one day you’ll have the luxury of glimpsing into his dirty thoughts.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Kaveh has some experience from drunken one-night stands, though not a lot. Ideally, he wanted to save himself for a long-term partner since he likes the idea of sharing his first time with someone he loves. He views it as an important step in a romantic relationship, after all. Unfortunately, back when he drank heavily to drown out his sorrows, his inebriation made him thoughtlessly seek comfort from unfamiliar women, which usually resulted in sex.
Though he would have liked to experience his first time with you instead of a stranger, Kaveh sees a silver lining in the situation in that he at least knows how to please a woman and has confidence in his performance.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
His favorites are anything that allows him to see your face and be as close to you as possible, so things like missionary or lotus are his go-to. If he’s tipsy, he might take you against the wall, but overall he prefers to have sex on the bed or sofa.
The few times he opts for taking you from behind is when he’s jealous. Kaveh will thrust into you from behind in doggy style or with you braced against a wall while standing, with his arms wrapped around you to press your back flush against his chest.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Kaveh approaches sex seriously, but that’s not to say that he won’t laugh or smile while getting intimate with you. He treats sex like a special event where you become one in mind, body, and heart, deepening the love you have for one another. It’s an emotionally charged activity for him. Nonetheless, he tries to keep it lighthearted enough to ease your nerves and keep you relaxed so you can enjoy the moment as much as possible.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He’s clean-shaven down there. Kaveh prefers the smooth feel and look of being shaven, but if he lets his pubes grow out, they’ll be a darker shade of blond than his hair.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Kaveh doesn’t fuck, he makes love. As mentioned before, sex is an emotionally charged event for Kaveh. He bares his heart to you throughout the entire thing, repeatedly telling you he loves you, caresses your body most tenderly and lovingly, and gives you more kisses than you can count. He’s a romantic person in general, and that carries over into the bedroom, as well.
He likes to maintain eye-contact while he makes love to you, and often rests his forehead against yours while gazing into your eyes. He also has a tendency to lace his fingers with yours during the event, especially when he’s close to climax.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Prior to meeting you, he might have masturbated once or twice a week to relieve stress. After he met you, Kaveh began masturbating more frequently. Once he fell in love with you, his desire for you grew in every sense of the word, so he often jacked off to thoughts of you. If you weren’t in a relationship yet, he felt guilty afterward for thinking of you in such a lewd manner, but he’d still find his mind wandering over to you every time he needed to rub one out.
Once in a relationship, he’ll masturbate less often since you usually help him release his lust, but if you’re unavailable, he’ll use his hand as a substitute. It doesn’t replace you quite as well, but it does the trick when he needs to relieve stress.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Likes to worship your body with kisses and gentle caresses and give you lots of praise (likes to receive praise, as well). Also really into giving oral, fingering, and overstimulating you.
When he doms, he likes to blindfold you or use light restraints like his hands, belts, or scarves.
Kaveh also likes light foodplay, such as placing fruits or drizzling chocolate or whipped cream on your body and then licking it off. He likes you and he likes those foods, so it's the best of both worlds for him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Only at home, and preferably on the bed. Kaveh feels most comfortable having sex in the privacy of his home where nobody can walk in on you. As mentioned, he’s very conscious of how he presents himself to the world, and being caught by other people in such a compromising situation will mortify him. He might get handsy with you out in public if he’s drunk, but he still waits to get home before doing anything truly raunchy.
Kaveh also likes having sex on soft surfaces for the sake of your and his comfort, but he’s not opposed to taking you against a wall or table. Still, he’ll absolutely fuck you in the kitchen and the bathroom if the mood strikes and you let him.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
The quickest way to turn him on is to express how much you want him sexually. Nothing gets him going as easily as knowing he’s desired by you. Aside from that, Kaveh also gets turned on from seeing you dressed in revealing clothing (especially if it shows off your cleavage) or when your kiss turns heated.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that has the potential to hurt you gets a hard no from him. He absolutely refuses to hit you. The most he might try is light spanking, but even then, he still feels bad for causing you pain even if it's something you’re into. He also doesn’t like degrading you, and isn’t good at it, either. You’re very important to him, so he hates the thought of hurting you in any way.
Kaveh also isn’t into exhibitionism or choking. The former because he likes to keep his sex life private, and the latter because it could cause you harm.
He doesn’t like receiving any of those things, either. He’s emotionally sensitive and takes such treatment towards himself poorly.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As much as Kaveh enjoys getting head from you, at his core he’s a very selfless lover, and as such has a strong preference for burying his face between your legs and licking at your folds and clit until you come undone on his tongue. Seeing you fall apart from just his mouth turns him on immensely, and he sometimes ejaculates in his pants while giving you oral.
Kaveh gets pussy drunk easily and tends to get carried away by eating you out until you’ve had several orgasms from his mouth alone. Even if you’re writhing and begging him to stop because it’s too overstimulating, Kaveh can get so lost in giving you pleasure, that he might not register what you’re saying right away. He’ll hold your hips down and spread your legs apart to feast on your dripping pussy. The sight of your blissful face and the sounds of your moans and gasps are too addictive for him. Eating you out is one of his favorite things about sex.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As I said, Kaveh doesn’t fuck, he makes love. Usually, sex with Kaveh is sensual and romantic. He wants to have time to appreciate the opportunity to make love and share such an intimate experience with you. The speed of his thrusts ranges from slow to moderate, but he goes deep.
That said, he has times when he craves something fast and a little rough. If he’s extremely horny, Kaveh tends to set a faster pace, snapping his hips to yours in sharp thrusts. Other times are when he’s jealous or frustrated. In such scenarios, he usually takes a rougher approach as a way to vent his emotions, but he still tries to be gentle enough so as to not hurt you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Prefers to have longer sessions where he has ample time to worship and please your body the way he thinks you deserve, but if he’s horny enough, he’ll accept a quickie. How often you engage in quickies depends on you because Kaveh can’t say no to you. Express a strong desire to have him right here and now, and he’ll get so turned on that he won’t be able to deny you. He might complain or scold you for propriety’s sake, but he’ll still give it to you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Tends to err on the side of caution, so he’s not very experimental. If it’s a new thing Kaveh thinks won’t cause either of you harm, or something he’s on the fence about, then he might agree to try something new with a bit of convincing. However, if he deems it unsafe, he’ll refuse.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Tends to go for 1-2 rounds, but because he likes to take his time pleasing you, they last for quite a while, so rest assured, you’ll be thoroughly pleased. The most rounds he can go for before becoming too exhausted is 3, but that rarely happens due to how busy and tired he is from staying up late for work.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn’t own any toys since he believes that you are all he needs. Kaveh likes to feel your warm touch directly on his skin which is why he prefers that you get him off yourself than with a cold, plastic toy. Toys can be fun, but he likes the intimacy of feeling your touch on him.
Kaveh is good at tinkering and crafting mechanical items (think Mehrak and the butterflies from the Darshan event), so he can craft you a vibrator or dildo if you’re into using toys on yourself.  
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He tried to tease you in the past by giving you teasing touches and denying you orgasm, but as you quickly found out, Kaveh has a hard time saying no to you when you beg him. He has a hard time denying you in general because he’s so selfless, but in bed, he would rather please you and hear your wanton moans of delight than deny you pleasure. This usually results in you being overstimulated rather than edged.
He’s not above verbally teasing you, though. Kaveh occasionally engages in some light teasing, such as pointing out how needy you are by saying, “You’re so needy for me, love. Do you want it that bad?” with an amused chuckle. He likes to tease you in this manner if you let him.
However, if he’s feeling jealous, Kaveh will show a surprising resilience to your begging. He’ll still give in eventually, but to get back at you for making him jealous (even if not on purpose), he’ll circle his thumb over your clit but pull away every time you’re close to cumming. He likes the feeling of control it gives him, and knowing that only he can give you what you want in that moment.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Tends to be louder than he wants because he has a hard time holding his voice back. He’s very vocal when he has sex, constantly letting out breathy moans, sighs, and gasps. Can be pretty loud if he’s really into it.
Kaveh also talks a fair bit during foreplay and lovemaking. He showers you in praise, calls you beautiful, repeatedly tells you he loves you (especially when he’s close to climax), and lets you know how good you’re making him feel. He’s not shy about communicating with you during sex and hopes you can do the same.
He would like it if you could let your voice out more because your moans drive him crazy in a good way, but he’s understanding if you’re uncomfortable with being loud. Another one of his favorite things during sex is hearing you say you love him and that he’s making you feel good while he makes love to you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Kaveh is a gentle dom! Once he’s certain that you’re comfortable with submitting to him, and he knows your boundaries and preferences, Kaveh won’t have any reservations about dominating you. He’s naturally prideful, confident, and assertive, and these traits transition well to his role as a dom.
Since he’s a giving lover, when he dominates, he aims to make you feel good. Everything he does is with your pleasure in mind because he enjoys giving you pleasure more than he does receiving it. He’s far from a pillow princess, and it wouldn’t sit right with him to lay there and accept all the pleasure you give him without doing something for you in return, so expect him to mostly focus on getting you off.
As a gentle dom, he likes to hold your wrists in his hand or use light bondage on you (blindfolds or tying your hands up) or pin you down to the bed using his weight. Kaveh also gives you a lot of encouragement and praise when he dominates you, saying things like “Good girl, you’re doing so well for me” or “It’s too much? I think you can go for one more. Won’t you give me another orgasm, love? I know you have it in you” followed by tender kisses and loving caresses.
I have more headcanons about dominant Kaveh here. I will most likely write more for this in the future too when I make general nsfw headcanons for him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Has a very pretty cock, as odd as that sounds. It’s a little above average at around 5.7 inches, slender, with a pretty pink tip.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Fairly average. Kaveh usually has sex with you two to three times per week, but can go for more if you need and his schedule permits. Can’t go more than a week without sex, though.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
The exhaustion takes over him pretty quickly, but he’s good at resisting the pull of sleep to give you aftercare and change the sheets. However, if you express a desire to cuddle right after sex, there’s a good chance Kaveh will fall asleep in your arms.
Kaveh tends to stay up late to work on commissions for his clients and thus doesn’t get enough sleep sometimes, even refusing to go to bed when you ask. When he’s being stubborn like this, one of the most effective methods you can use is to suck him off before bed. Kaveh will complain and protest that he has work to do, but as soon as you make him orgasm, the tiredness catches up with him and he’ll get sleepy. Giving him a blowjob before bed is actually a great way to calm his anxious thoughts about work and get Kaveh to join you for a night of well-deserved rest.
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Text
Thinking of artistically gifted Steve who had it trained out of him as a little kid ("Don't make a mess, Steven, the stains will never come out of the carpet." and "Is that PAINT on your new shirt?" and "Don't scribble all over your schoolwork, what will the teacher think?" and "Better learn something that will actually benefit you in life.")
And later, when Eddie and Steve get together, it isn't long before Eddie notices. How Steve will sometimes pick up a pen and start doodling on a stray sheet of paper while Eddie is working on a campaign. How he'll look at the paint and brushes when Eddie is painting his figurines.
One day, he nudges his supplies closer to Steve and asks if he'd like to try.
"I dunno ..." Steve says. "I'll just make a mess."
"So?" Eddie gestures to the paint spots on his desk, the stains on his own hands and jeans. "That's half the fun, big boy."
Steve starts painting and doodling and sketching more often after that, and every time Eddie has some money to spend from a gig, he buys him a new sketch book or a fancy set of pencils or paint.
Later, when Steve starts selling his first works, he returns the favor and saves up to buy Eddie that flashy guitar case he's been eyeing for months.
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little-miss-vader · 8 months
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Driven To You
Pairing: AU!CarGuy!AnakinxReader
Summary: Y/N has a small crush (obsession) with a car guy in her class and is so wrapped up in avoiding him, she doesn’t realize she might have actually caught his eye.
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Directly inspired by the photos of Hayden driving/being around cars bc mmmmmmm delicious.
A/N: IM BACK BABY. SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I LOVE YALL. ENJOY! P.s. THE TITLE IS CHEESY AND THE WRITING IS EVEN CHEESIER. SORRY IM FEELING ROMANTICAL. This is a slow burn and i intend to do more parts!!!
Word Count: 6.9k
There was a sense of dread that always came over you upon waking up. You’d immediately think of all the things you had to achieve in the day. The thought alone would make your sheets feel all the more inviting whilst making fibres of the carpeted floor in your bedroom look like searing hot needles. This morning though, as you poured the boiling water from the kettle into the cheap insulated mug your college had given you as an acceptance gift, you smiled to yourself. Your roommates were still asleep. You had chosen your courses too late to be picky about what time slot you’d be scheduled with, and the quiet in your little apartment made plenty of room for you to listen to the music you had blasting through your headphones. You stirred your coffee and placed the lid on the tumbler before picking up your bag and keys. You slipped on the shoes you’d meticulously picked the night before and headed out the door, making sure to lock it twice. The dodgy door had a lock that wouldn’t properly latch unless you pulled it whilst locking it — but it worked, is what your landlord had told you and your roommates.
You stared down at your outfit while you walked. When you applied for a fashion degree, you hadn’t quite had the forethought to realize you not only needed to be good at what you did, you had to look like it too. It wasn’t a school mandated rule but it was some sort of unspoken requirement amongst your peers. You’d never been good at making friends and the treatment you had been getting from dressing comfortably during your first semester wasn’t helping your case. Now, dressing well was all you ever did. Leaving the house in clothes that weren’t carefully picked made you almost uncomfortable, even just going to the convenience store on the corner was a mission. You decided to stop hyper-fixating on whether or not the pattern on your skirt was vintage in a cute way or vintage in a grandma way because either way, it would be considered better than leggings and a big sweater.
“If it gauges a reaction, it’s fashion.” Is what your professor always told you. You were careful to only step on the tiles of the sidewalks, never the seams, and you always waited a second after the crosswalk signal went from red to white, just incase some insane city driver forgot what a red light meant. You’d narrowly avoided cars a handful of times during your walks to campus and learned it’s better to be patient.
As you walked you wondered if you’d see him today, the blond boy with the loud car and even louder friends. He was the reason Wednesdays were less daunting to you. It was the one day a week you had a class with him. He seemed kind and quiet which was a vast contrast when you looked at who and what he surrounded himself with. He had an odd name too. You only knew that because you both took the same boring and useless elective course. You didn’t shake away the thoughts, the feeling of a crush always made you excited. Making up stories about them in your head and fantasizing about how they liked their tea was all good fun to you, especially when you knew you’d never speak to the person.
You felt around the outside of your bag on your side until you felt the spirals on your hard covered sketch pad and let out a small sigh when you were reassured that you brought it with you. Your head whipped around at the sound of a loud exhaust coming your way and you smiled to yourself while thinking about how you were psychic and manifesting him, completely ignoring the fact that he was in the class you were making your way to. The yellow car came into view and you prayed it would make it past the yellow light ahead of you. The car was fast enough to do so but you’d never seen him drive fast before. That was another interesting thing to you. A car guy who doesn’t drive like an asshole was almost unheard of.
Your eyes flickered over to the now red light as you saw the car slow down right in front of where you were to cross the street to access the campus. You almost debated walking to the next cross walk and doubling back to avoid walking in front of him. You looked at the time on the giant clock on the front of the campus building and sighed. You couldn’t be late during mid term season. You waited a second when the crosswalk signal switched from a red hand to a walking figure. Your eyes, hidden under sunglasses, watched him in his car. His arm was rested on the door panel and he was biting his thumb nail, looking ahead of the wheel with his other hand lazily draped over it. He either hadn’t seen you yet, or he didn’t care to look at you. Both options seemed to relieve you as you walked. You shook your head to hide your face with your hair and pretended to text somebody on your phone, in reality you were simply typing gibberish into your notes app. You were sure he had seen you for the small duration that you’d walked in front of your car and the thought made you speed up your strides.
As you walked across the grass and towards the door you heard his car drive in to your left and park where he always parked. You smiled to yourself, thinking of the mild annoyance he must have faced when he saw a rusted Prius parked in his spot just a few days ago. It was perfect for you though, from where he was forced to park you could finally see the front view of his car perfectly through the window you always sat at and it made for a decent addition to your sketchbook. You blushed to yourself when you realized just how many sketches you had of his car. You didn’t even like cars, in fact you had sneakily walked behind his car in the parking lot once just to see which model it even was. You just liked him but drawing him seemed far too delusional, even for your liking. Besides, you were never good at drawing faces anyways.
You pushed the large door to the lecture hall and it swung open with ease. You greeted your professor who was nose deep in her kindle at her desk, she barely even muttered a response back. You smiled to yourself when you realized you were the only other person there. It was a smaller class but this gave you time to sit and sketch an outline of your muse, to be completed later. You settled down in your usual spot and snapped a quick photo to reference later before opening your sketchbook. You flipped to the back of the book where your secret drawings were. Not very well kept but nobody was looking through your notebook anyways.
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw a figure move outside the window. You watched through your peripherals as Anakin slid out of his car and closed the door. He adjusted his pants, which looked about four sizes too big, and locked the car before walking out of view toward the building. You squeezed your eyes in embarrassment and placed your pencil within the spirals, shutting your book slowly. You’d been so eager to draw the stupid car you didn’t check to see if he’d left it yet. You hoped to whoever was listening, whatever greater force there was, that he didn’t see you taking a photo.
You sat there in silence, staring at the wall and jumped when the door opened even though you were entirely aware he would walk in at any moment. You didn’t look at him. You placed your fist under your chin and stared down at your cellphone as he walked to his normal spot. Four rows to your left and two rows back. He sat right in the middle of the back of the class. You wondered what kind of person that made him. Clearly he wanted to be seen by the teacher, but maybe he sat at the back because he wasn’t eager to participate.
You milled the theories over in your head as other students began to file in. You noticed Anakin had come in alone. He usually had his friend with him but today, his friend came in late. He chucked a wrapper of some sort at Anakin and sat next to him. Anakins soft laugh made your heart do a flip and you leaned further into your hand. His voice was deep and it carried quite far even though he was speaking softly to his friend who made no effort to use his inside voice. You didn’t even notice the time fly by as you gazed at the chalkboard behind your professor, watching as the words she wrote turned into jumbled letters from staring for too long.
The bustling of people around you getting up to leave caught your attention and you began to pack up your things with haste. You picked up your bag and pulled it over your shoulder, taking care not to trip down the narrow and steep stairs of the lecture hall. You noticed Anakin and his friend sitting at their seats. They were deep in conversation as they moved at a snails pace to pack up their things. You, on the other hand, were itching to go home to watch whatever dumb show your roommate had on and eat.
The sun was bright when you pushed open the door that led you to the parking lot, causing your eyes to squint. You pulled your sunglasses off their perch on your head and placed them snug on your nose before you heard the door swing open behind you. Your head just barely turned but the sound of a man’s voice calling your name made you swivel on your heels.
“Hey, Y/N.” Anakin said as he approached you. His keys that hung from his front belt loop jingled with each step he took and you looked at him dumbfounded. The class was small but to know your name, that took a little bit of effort surely. “You forgot your charger. At least I think it’s yours. You’re the only one who sits by where it was.” He held out a small white block attached to a matching white cord. You held your hand out with an appreciative smile and he dropped the charger in your palms.
“Yeah it’s mine. Thank you.” You spoke as you shoved the cord into your over stuffed bag. His head moved in a nodding motion.
“No problem.” He said curtly. Your eyes trailed him over for a second before you decided that was likely the end of the interaction and you began to turn.
“Do you like cars?” He asked. You began to panic as you thought of the embarrassing photo you’d taken earlier. You desperately clambered your brain for an answer.
“Not really. Why?” You realized your words seemed a bit harsher than intended and you threw in a polite smile to soften the blow.
“Oh no reason.” He shrugged. You weren’t sure if you were just trying to relax yourself or if he truly hadn’t watched you snap a photo from the large, untinted window of the lecture hall. “There’s a car meet tonight. Just wanted to know if you’d be interested.” He finished and you looked at him. You tried to understand exactly what was going on and why it was going on but your brain left you with no answers.
“No that sounds fun.” You answered before you could think but his eyes lit up ever so slightly and your heart pounded a little louder than usual.
“Oh cool. It’s kind of like a super hushed thing though, a lot of these cars are technically not allowed to be on the roads.” He started and you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, shifting your weight. “You’ll see what I mean. I can pick you up or did you want to meet there?” He leaned against the wall behind him.
“Pick me up. 42 Queen, apartment 215.” You smiled. “I’m not gonna get arrested right?” You asked and it pulled a laugh from Anakin. He shook his head and you revelled in the way his hair flopped over his head.
“Not on my watch.” He said through a straight teethed smile. “42 Queen. 215. Got it. I’ll be there at around nine.”
You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Nine? My bed time is ten. I have class in the morning.” You said only partially joking. Anakin rolled his eyes, a disbelieving smile on his face.
“Car meets like this don’t happen before sundown.” He crossed his arms over his chest and you sighed dramatically. Despite your internal panic you kept your composure quite well. For that you commended yourself.
“Fine. I’m doing this for the promise of fun. So I better have fun.” You stated as you began to step back from him. He smiled at you, a knowing smile that signalled that you wouldn’t be disappointed. You took your leave, bidding him goodbye with a nod before walking as fast as you could to your apartment. He watched you scurry away with his hands shoved in his pockets before pushing himself off the wall and heading to his car.
When you got home you went straight to your room and sent your roommate a text, briefing her on the news of today. An excited smile was seemingly permanently plastered on your face. You laid your things on your bed and grabbed your sketchbook before making your way to your small desk. You heard a knock on your bedroom door as you began to sketch away at the drawing of the car, this time it included Anakin sitting inside. The photo you took captured it perfectly. You mumbled for whoever was at the door to come in. Your roommate Jean cracked your door open.
“Busy?” She asked as she entered the room fully, closing the door behind her. You pulled your headphones off one ear and turned to her with a shrug.
“Just drawing.” You muttered as she walked over and looked over your shoulder at the sketch. She knew about Anakin, all three of your roommates did, but she knew about absolutely everything. The drawings included.
“God, you’re insane.” She said jokingly with her eyes peering over your shoulder and you threw your pencil at her. She laughed and picked it up off the floor before placing it on your desk. She leaned against the surface and crossed her arms. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N/N.” She smiled down at you and you wrapped your arms around her waist with a smile. She uncrossed her arms to run her hands through your hair gently.
“Thanks, Bean.” You fondly used the name Bean for her, she wouldn’t dare let anybody else call her that. her boyfriend tried it once and she shot him a death glare so intense he apologized profusely. She was a bit intimidating. Tall, black dyed hair, piercings and tattoos. The whole nine yards. You pulled away from the embrace. Her hands held your hair as you retreated and dropped it gently before returning to their crossed position over her chest.
“Your hairs getting so long.” She was in school for cosmetology and was usually the only reason you looked presentable. You looked down at your hair and nodded.
“I guess it is.” You sighed. You knew she could tell that there was something on your mind and you sighed again. Her blue eyes felt as though they had pierced into your soul and you looked up at her.
“So a date… You never mentioned how it happened.” She sat down on the floor beside your chair. Her arms crossed over your knees as you turned to face her and she rested her chin on her folded limbs, eyes staring up into yours in excitement.
“Not a date. He never explicitly said that. That being said, I left my charger in class so he came and gave it to me and we just talked for a minute.” You smiled and she laughed in disbelief.
“So you didn’t talk to him first. What are the chances? Maybe God does exist.” She mused and you rolled your eyes, your hand reached for a pen on your desk and you clicked it before beginning to colour in one of her tattoos.
———
The hours went by slowly, probably because you were watching the clock every chance you got. You had already changed, and then changed back into what you had on before as not to look like you were trying too hard. You’d redone your makeup and fixed your hair. You brushed your teeth and ate. You even finished an assignment and it hadn’t even struck 7pm yet. You groaned as you walked out of your room. Your roommate was sitting on the couch in front of the television, her eyes flicked over to you with a smirk upon her features.
“Antsy?” She questioned you and you pouted as you approached the fridge, looking for a snack to pass the time.
“Only a little.” You rolled your eyes as you sat the the kitchen bench with a banana. Her hand raised with the remote as she switched from Netflix to Spotify. You watched as she put on a playlist before coming to where you were sat in the kitchen. She reached under the counter into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of cheap champagne. The sight made you nauseous. Last time you’d seen that type of bottle you were face down in a toilet by midnight. “No.” You started and she laughed.
“Just a few. You’re wound up too tight right now. One or two drinks over the next two hours won’t kill you.” She smiled, waving the bottle in your face and you groaned again. With a hesitant hand you reached out and grabbed the large glass bottle from her. She turned around and opening the fridge with an excited squeal as she grabbed the orange juice. “Mimosas make everything better.” She smiled.
You took the liberty of grabbing two of the delicate glasses she bought for these kind of drinks and placing them on the counter. Jean was a bartender at a fancy golf course so she always had the means to make a good drink at her disposal. It almost worried you sometimes.
“Mimosas feel like a brunch thing.” You mumbled as she poured the glasses 3/4 of the way with champagne and topped them off with what seemed like two drops of orange juice. She smiled, her head tilted as she looked at you.
“Mimosas deserve to be enjoyed all day, any day.” She slid the glass to you carefully and held her own in the air. “To Anakin, I guess.” She said with a shrug and you raised your own glass, clinking it gently with her own before downing half the drink. It was cold and refreshing, and surprisingly, if you hadn’t known it had alcohol in it you never would have noticed.
She was right, the next two hours were spent talking about Anakin. You showed her his instagram where he had no pictures of his actual face. She theorized on how he likely had a crush on you, and you brushed it off. It wasn’t long before you found yourself at the bottom of your second drink and heard a knock at the front door. Your eyes widened as you stared at her and she laughed.
“Go open it before he leaves.” She whispered and you scrambled off the couch and walked over to the door. You unbolted the locks and cracked the door open.
You saw his tall frame stood in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets as per usual. You smiled and opened the door fully.
“Hi.” He said with a soft smile. His eyes moved around your apartment and landed on the bottle of Prosecco and orange juice on the counter. “Pregaming I see?” He asked, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
You heard your roommate speak from behind you and you could have jumped out of your skin. She was always such a quiet walker.
“Just a little. I’m Jean.” She stuck her hand out and you watched as Anakin shook it.
“Anakin.” He responded.
“Have her home by one.” She smiled as you slipped on your shoes. You rolled your eyes and looked behind you, shooting daggers at her and she shrugged. “Keep your location on.” She said and you groaned in response.
“Okay. I love you.” You mumbled and she responded with the same words back before you ushered Anakin out of your apartment. You heard the door lock behind you and you sighed. “Sorry she’s just like that. All the time.” You laughed gently and he smiled.
“No she seems cool.” He nodded. The two of you walked down the corridor and into the elevator silently before you piped up.
“So what exactly is a car meet?” You asked, your head turned up toward the boy who stood tall next to you.
“It’s when people with cool cars meet up.” He said, he looked down at you with a smile and an embarrassed blush rose to your cheeks. Seemed clear enough.
“Right. Just making sure.” You nodded and he smiled as the doors of the elevator opened. You followed him out as he led you to where he’d parked. You felt a sense of anxiety surrounding the situation, a new place with a new person made you feel a little uneasy.
When his car came into view you felt your heartbeat quicken and when he opened the door for you, you could have sworn you felt faint.
Anakin leaned on the door panel as you got in before shutting it once he saw you were completely settled. He walked around to the front of the car and sat in the drivers seat as you looked around the vehicle you’d only ever seen from the outside. It felt surreal. The small amount of alcohol in your system was nice but it wasn’t helping much as you watched him settle in the seat and turn the key in the ignition.
His hand pushed at the shifter and the car began to move. “I might have to drive a little faster. Turns out it started at 9 so we’re technically late.” He mumbled as he drove out of the parking lot. You stared out the windshield.
“As long as you don’t kill us.” You smiled and you heard his laugh in return.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled again as he turned onto the road. He began to speed up and your feet pushed against the floor mat to steady yourself. The roads were mostly clear which was good, you weren’t in the mood to swerve through traffic today. The car was loud over the music playing in his car and your eyes scanned over the radio to see what the song was called. You’d never heard of the artist but it was definitely something you’d listen to. You made a mental note to save the song to your phone as he drove quickly and carefully at the same time. It surprised you how effortless it looked and felt.
“Who taught you how to drive?” You asked when he came to a red light and he placed his hand on the shifting knob, wiggling it left to right as he waited for the light to change.
“I did. My dad owned a shop and would let me drive the cars to and from the lot. When i learned the basics I would take the cars out at night.” He smiled fondly at the memory, causing a smile of your own to creep onto your lips.
“That seems nice.” You responded. “I never learned.” He looked at you for a moment as he sped down the brightly lit streets of the city.
“I could teach you.” He shrugged and you looked at him for the first time since being in the car with him.
“I couldn’t ask that of you.” You shook your head and he shook his right back at you.
“No it would be my pleasure. I like doing this. I’d love to teach somebody else how to do it.” As he spoke, a car head began to take a left turn before he was able to make a right turn and he laid his hand on the horn for a second and the other car stopped to let him go. “I’d love to teach you so I could know you were aware of who has the right of way when making a left. Jesus they just give licenses out to anybody these days.” You laughed gently at his passive comment to the other driver. “I swear I only encounter scary drivers when I have somebody else in the car.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.
“Maybe you’re the bad driver.” You said jokingly and he smiled, his eyes shined under the street lamps.
“Yeah, maybe.” He mused as he pulled into a parking lot. It was full of cars and you could hear bass heavy music playing in the distance. He parked his car next to the rest of them and you watched as people glanced over, taking notice of the new vehicle in the parking lot.
“See? It’s literally a meet up for cars.” He said with a grunt as he pulled his emergency break up as high as it could go before turning the car off. The two of you exited the vehicle and he locked it before walking over to your side.
“I see that.” You responded and he smiled sheepishly.
“It’s kinda lame. Just didn’t wanna come alone and you seem nice enough to fall for it.” He said, a joking tone laced his voice. You let out an exaggerated breath and shook your head.
“You were right to think so.” You looked around at the cars around you. There was no more than 50 but you’d never seen this many people and cars in one spot.
He spent the night showing you around, explaining what cars he liked, asking you which ones you liked, and stopping to say hi to people briefly. About an hour in you began to understand why this could be fun, people were doing drifts and burnouts in the empty side of the parking lot and truth be told it was interesting to watch, especially when you knew you could never do that. It seemed he was well known in the community, that would explain why people stared as he drove in.
“Do you still race?” Anakin was talking to yet another guy who was standing by his own car. Anakin shook his head.
“Not since I got that ticket.” He responded. The guy laughed.
“You’re better than the rest of us. I think I have three tickets now.” He chuckled and Anakin rolled his eyes.
“If I was living in my moms basement with a job at the pizza shop I’d have three tickets too, man.” He laughed and the other guy laughed in unison. Anakin pushed his fist against the other ones and began to walk away. You chuckled and he looked down at you. “What’s funny?” He asked curiously.
“Nothing. I would have taken what you said personally but he just brushed it off like it was nothing.” You smiled and he raised an eyebrow at you.
“Didn’t you recognize him? He’s my buddy from the class we’re in together.” He said with a smirk and your eyes widened.
“Oh my god, it was. I didn’t even notice. I should have said hello.” You groaned and he laughed again.
“Now you’re the rude one.” He said with a tilt of his head and you sighed.
“I guess I am.” You responded. You walked next to him, glancing over at cars. You learned you had an affinity for Miata’s. Almost ever car you liked tonight had been a Miata. “You raced?” You asked.
“Yeah. It was fun. I’m gonna do it again soon, just wanted to lay low after I got booked.” He shrugged, his hands found their way into his pockets again. You nodded. You always had an idea of him, and he was proving those ideas to be wrong. You couldn’t help but like the truth of the matter just a little better than the fantasy version of him you had made up.
“Damn, Marty’s here.” He grinned as he pointed to a hot dog stand in the distance. “Honest to God he makes the best hotdogs you’ll ever have. Let me get you one. Have you eaten?” He asked excitedly and even though you had, you couldn’t help but enable his excitement.
“I could eat.” You smiled and he beamed, making a bee line for the hotdog stand.
“Good ‘cause I’m starving.” He called over his shoulder and you sped up to keep up with him. A laugh escaped you as you noticed how fast he was walking.
“Slow down.” You laughed as you reached for his arm. You caught him and grabbed him gently to pull him back. He stopped to let you catch up and looked down at you.
“Maybe you should speed up.” He looked down at you while your hand gripped his arm. Your stomach did a flip as you stopped in your tracks, looking up at his eyes. You’d never noticed how blue they were. The two of you stood silently, looking at each other, before you heard the sound of his stomach grumbling. Your laughter wasn’t easily contained when he looked down at his stomach.
“Yeah let’s get you your hotdog.” You smiled, he chuckled and let his arm drop down just far enough where it grazed your hand and your entire arm erupted in goosebumps. Your hand instinctively went to grab his hand. Your fingers twitching to hold his hand made his hand stop and slowly intertwine with yours. You never broke the eye contact and you felt as if you could hear him speak through just the emotion in his eyes. You had to breathe manually when he started walking toward the hotdog stand again.
He ordered two, one for both of you and pulled out his wallet to hand Marty a bill. He had to let go of your hand to do so but the warmth in your heart bloomed when he went to hold it again as soon as he put his wallet back in his pocket. A small blush rose to your cheeks. He told the man to keep the change and handed you one of the hotdogs. The two of you took turns using the condiments on the side of the cart before sitting down on a curb right next to it.
“How is it?” He asked, his mouth half full. You smiled as you finished chewing.
“Really good. Haven’t had a hot dog in forever.” You smiled and he nodded, humming in agreement. You noticed people begin to leave and you pulled your phone from your bag and noticed it had only been two hours. “It’s not even that late yet.” You said and he looked around. You followed his gaze to red and blue lights flashing in the distance and he stood up.
“Time to go.” He mumbled as he threw the last bit of his food away and you followed him, throwing yours away as well. Your chest began to fill with a small sense of anxiety, you’d never dealt with the cops before. You’d been relatively well behaved your entire life so situations like this were alien to you.
He walked calmly toward his car and you stuck to his heel. As you approached the yellow vehicle he pulled his keys off his belt loop and unlocked your side, opening the door and allowing you to enter fully before shutting it and walking over to his own side.
When he got in the car he placed the key in the ignition and glanced over at you. “We haven’t done anything. My car, while extremely modified, is almost perfectly legal.” He smiled assuringly and you nodded before realizing he said almost.
“Almost?” You asked and he shrugged as he began to push the car into gear.
“Yeah. Almost. Nothing big. If I get out of here now they won’t bother ticketing me.” He mumbled as he checked his surroundings before finding a gap between the other cars that were leaving.
You held onto the door panel tightly as he drove, anxiety bubbling up more every second. You were always prone to freaking out. He took a right from the parking lot and began to drive with the other cars around him. They were definitely all doing speeds that would get them in trouble on the small backstreet. You looked at him again and he glanced into his rear view.
“See? It was only one cop car and now it’s stuck in the parking lot.” You turned your body to glance out the back windshield and slumped back into your seat with a huff, followed by a small laugh.
“I was really freaking out for a minute.” You mumbled causing Anakin to let out a short belly laugh.
“Yeah. You should see how it feels to be booked during a race. That’ll get your blood pumping.” He had a tone in his way of speaking that made you think that one day you might experience exactly what he was talking about. His words almost distracted you from his fast driving.
As he turned down your neighbourhood he slowed down. There was no more cars with you guys and he seemed to relax in his seat.
“Sorry for that.” He started. “And for cutting the night short.” He smiled apologetically, only letting his eyes leave the road for a moment to flash it at you.
“Oh it’s fine.” You mused. “It was kinda fun.” You smiled back at him and your grip on his door loosened. You watched as he pulled into the small crescent driveway of your apartment building and parked the car. “I’d like to do that again, and maybe watch you race one day.” You finished as you collected your purse from its spot at your feet.
“I’d like that too, only if you’re being serious. I can’t tell with you.” He smiled and you rolled your eyes.
“I am.” You insisted as you plopped the purse in your lap and looked at him. “I see you drive every Wednesday. I’ve never seen you drive like that before, though.” You mentioned and it raised a hum from him.
“I only do it when I need to. Sometimes when I want to. Driving to school doesn’t exactly ignite my excitement.” He shrugged and you sent him a playful look.
“What warrants your excitement then?” You asked, leaning your elbow on his centre console and placing your chin in your palm.
“Ah the usual, cars, racing, pretty girls in grandma skirts.” He shrugged and your mouth dropped, a mix of a gasp and laugh flew out of you as you rolled your eyes and lifted your head.
“I like my grandma skirt.” You mused. His compliment settled in your stomach, making it so somersaults.
“I didn’t say I don’t.” His voice was quiet as he looked at you and a blush rose to your cheeks. His hand reached out to brush against yours and you let him grab it.
He brushed his thumb along the back of your hand as the two of you sat in a silent tension. The air in the car seemed thick during the silent conversation you had with your eyes. He cleared his throat, averted his gaze and dropping your hand before pulling his keys out of the car.
“I’ll walk you in, it’s late.” He mumbled as he reached across you and pushed your door open. You couldn’t help but feel mildly disconcerted at his reaction. He seemed so confident in his ability to flirt with you. You couldn’t pin point why he didn’t kiss you, it was one of the most obvious opportunities you’d ever seen. Regardless, you stepped out of his car.
“Sure.” You called behind you as you shut the door. He met you at the front end of the vehicle after locking it and walked next to you. The automatic doors of the building opened and you led him to the elevators. His hands were in their usual place, deep in his pockets as you pressed the button. You looked at him from your peripherals, agonizing over the suddenly awkward tension that filled the air between you two.
As you waited in the elevator you sighed. He looked at you, you pretended you didn’t notice, and the doors opened. The small hallway revealed itself through the elevator doors and you stepped out before him. He was hot on your tail when you finally approached the door and pulled out your keys.
“Can I get your number?” He asked from behind you and you froze, your key only inches away from the lock. You turned to him and nodded, stating off your number. You watched as he typed it in and turned his phone to you, you smiled when you saw your contact name had a grandma emoji next to it and nodded, confirming that he put the number in correctly. Your feelings were in a constant state of fluctuation. You couldn’t pin point whether he didn’t like you, or if he was just an awkward individual. Surely, somebody who looks like Anakin could never be so socially inept. Stranger things have happened, though.
He placed his phone in his pocket before letting his eyes fall on you again, your heartbeat raced as you waited for him to say something. Your eyes searched his desperate to find a hint of what he was thinking but you couldn’t pin point anything.
“Thank you.” He whispered. “For coming with me. It was really nice.” He continued and you nodded your head again. It seemed that was all you could do. You tried to push out some words.
“Me too.” You said and furrowed your eyebrows in embarrassment. “I mean. Sorry. I meant to say no problem. It really was fun.” You scrambled for words to avoid looking like an idiot. He smiled, his hand reached up and rested on your cheek. Your breath stopped for a moment as he used his hand to raise your face toward his. His lips brushed softly against yours and your eyes fluttered shut.
It was over before you even got to understand what happened and he dropped his hand gently, stepping back. He placed his hands back in his pocket as your eyes opened again. You could have died right then and you’d die happy.
“Sorry. Should I have asked before I did that? I feel like I should have asked.” It was his turn to ramble and you laughed gently, shaking your head.
“No it’s okay. I was waiting for you to grow a pair and do that.” You smiled as you turned around to unlock your door.
“Well good thing I grew a pair, huh?” He asked and you turned to him as you opened the door to your dark apartment. Your roommate was likely passed out after finishing the rest of the bottle.
“A great thing, really.” You whispered and he shot you a smile.
“Well, get some rest. I’ll shoot you a text later.” He whispered back as he began to back himself down the hallway again. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled.
“Goodnight, Anakin.” You responded before you stepped into your apartment and locked the door behind you. You hadn’t even gotten your shoes off before your phone buzzed in your purse.
“Hi. It’s later. Wanna do this again soon?” The text from an unknown number read. You laughed quietly to yourself as you typed in a quick response.
“Yeah but you’re gonna have to pick me up until I get a license.” You responded.
“I have 0 issue with that. Besides. I told you I’d teach you how to drive. :)” You laughed at the text as you entered your room for the night.
“Deal. Goodnight. Drive safe.” You responded, your tired body and mind didn’t even let you change or wash your face as you laid in bed. Your eyes fell shut as you heard another vibration come through on your phone but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at it. You told yourself you’d take a look in the morning, but the longer you went without seeing the text, the more antsy you got.
“I’m gonna have to. Gotta take a pretty girl on another date soon. Goodnight.” The text sat in front of your eyes and you let out an excited squeal before tossing your phone on the bed. You cuddled into your sheets and let yourself fall asleep, only hoping to dream of him just so you could see him again.
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Text
Dessert
pov: you give rodrick a naughty surprise..
btw it’s my first smutt, and it gets right into the nsfw stuff!!
WAIT
before you read,
this fanfic contains
sex, degrading names, slapping, rough sex, railing. read at your own will…..
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you sat as Rodrick was making dinner. you quietly laughed wondering how you could find someone like him that could also cook for you when your stressed.
you watch as he shuffles in an out of the kitchen with different plates of deliciousness. he looked so brutal yet he had a soft spot for you. you feel a wave of horniness tingling all over your body. you saw his shameless smile as he caught you staring. you wonder, how can someone so rough be such a good boy?
“baby, dinner is served” he says as places the last plate on the table”
“coming!” you respond before you go to the bathroom to wash your hands
you both sit down as you start to eat, Rodrick just watching you in adoring eyes.
“how is it darling?” he says in a soft way
“oh my gosh i did not know you cooked so well??” you say
he grins then chuckles. “thank you my pretty girl. i love seeing your face like that”
suddenly it turns you on how he said that and what he said. you can’t help but tell him he’s done an amazing job.
“baby you did so good cooking! i bet you’re tired hm? but don’t forget dessert..” you say charmingly
“may i ask what the dessert is?” he smirks
“yeah, but it’s in the bedroom... i’ll go get it ready”
you get up and walk past him noticing his boner as he tries hiding it. you smirk and go to the bedroom and change into your lingerie he gifted you for your birthday
“baby, it’s ready!” you yell as you get ready for the excitement to come
he walks into the room looking shocked.
just as you’re about to say something, he doesn’t resist as he takes his shirt off and you look at the best view ever. you look at the detailed lines all across his body, almost identical to the sketches you imagined of him. you were so hungry. you wanted a bite so bad just as he grabbed your waist aggressively but softly in some sort and soon your lips were touching together
you let out a soft moan as that made him hungrier than before. before you knew it he was grabbing on to your breasts that cupped his hands perfectly. suddenly he stopped.
“baby no no no what happened?” you pleaded as you wanted his rough hands touch your soft body.
his breath fans over your body as he breathily mumbles “can..can i go further?”.
“yes baby yes. this is all i want” you said in a desperate voice
he continued holding your breast’s as you could feel his cock buldge out of his black ripped jeans
he went down and kissed your neck. oh gosh you loved how his soft lips planted a kiss on each part of your neck. he trailed all the way down to you breasts that popped out to him. he started kissing all around and then teased you by biting you.
he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. you masked a gasp as you looked down.
trailing your hands down his front, he released a low groan once you lightly grasped it. you carefully stroked it as he let out little groans.
you went faster and used both hands. at this point he was enjoying it as he took his hand and placed it on your head moving in back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
“yes baby, yes! give it to me. don’t stop..” he pleaded.
you could feel his cock throbbing and you fit your whole mouth on his cock. you went faster with the movements as you could hear his climax
“oh, oh! oh yes baby. ohhh..!” he says as he orgasms
your mouth fills up with his cum and you giggle as he continues to cum all over your face.
“ahhh baby you sure gave me a treat. i never knew you could do that…” he groans
but it’s your turn now as he aggressively pushes you down on the bed so your stomach is facing the soft mattress
he takes the tip of his cock and slightly jabs it in your cunt. he does this several times until he puts his fat cock inside your cunt. you let out a moan as he rocks his body in and out of you.
you grab the sheets for support because of how hard he is going in and out of you.
“i’ll tell you when you can cum you dirty little slut” he says harshly
as the moans grow, he pulls your hair harshly as his big fat cock thrusts inside you. you’re absolutely stunned because this was better than what you had imagined.
“you’re all mine” he whispers into your ear. you whimper in return.
you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm as he yells “what did i say my pretty girl? you don’t want to get punished, right” you can’t help it. you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
finally you cum, and let out a big moan. you feel so free and amazing, but you notice that the thrusting didn’t come to an end.
“R-rodrick, ah, s-stop”
he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. he stays silent while he’s still pushing into your cunt.
he groans, “y/n ah, make me proud. you know how to make me feel good, please”
suddenly you feel his warm cum enter you as he groans loudly
“ohhh y/n.. ah that was amazing.” he pants
you feel a spark of relief thinking that he forgot about you cumming without permission
“but you dirty slut,” he takes a deep breath “you didn’t listen to me? hm?”
you mumble curse words under your breath
“what was that darling? looks like someone hasn’t learned their lesson yet..” he chuckles.
yay! please let me know whoever to write abt 😔🙏🙏
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rrxnjun · 1 year
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portrait of a blank slate. huang renjun
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pairing: huang renjun x fem! reader genre: college au. fluff, smut, and the tiniest bit of angst. warnings: swearing, alcohol, angry man renjun, very bad dialogue, this is the most un-renjun fic i've ever written, dry humping, a heavy makeout session, unfinished blowjob word count: 5.8k playlist: no specific one this time but i listened to a lot of keshi while writing this, so have this playlist of mine to fit the vibes a/n: inspired by that one tweet describing how someone's art professor met his wife the same exact way, lost the screenshot and also the og post im so sorry!
turns out all it takes to save a life is a bad, bad college party, a few shots and a weird, magical coincidence back in a girl's dorm room.
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It’s hard to believe that Huang Renjun is currently finishing up the art portfolio he needs for his summer internship program after procrastinating and angrily stomping at every single bad stroke of his paintbrush for the last few months.
Because he’s not.
He’s looking at the canvas with stern eyes, the smudges on the white linen so messy he could cry just by looking at them, and the more he tries to save the disgrace currently scribbled in front of him, the worse it gets and makes the levels of frustration in him turn into rage and fury, because let’s be honest– what is Renjun’s primary emotion if not anger. 
And he tries hard to fix it again, he really does– he sighs heavily while doing so as he takes a smaller brush and tries to paint on a few hairstrokes to the portrait of Frida Kahlo he wants to execute– and in honest reality, it doesn’t even look half as bad as it does in the poor boy’s eyes when he takes a step back after holding in his breath and carefully piercing together the artwork. Maybe if there was someone else in the room– everyone but his annoying roommate Donghyuck, because that fucker always manages to make things even worse– they could talk him out of it, offer some words of consolidation, even, hype him up and tell him that with outsider’s eyes, the canvas looks beautiful and very well put together. But the truth is that there’s no one present right now, not a single soul in what feels like the whole campus right now, that could ease Huang Renjun’s frustration from what seems to be art block, when he throws the paintbrush to the wall (he’ll worry about the stain of acrylic paint later, when he gains consciousness) and puts a fist through the middle of the painting.
If he was a character in a comic book, his hand would go through the canvas and create a quite satisfying hole. He’s a real person, though– a weak one as well, to be quite honest– and his fist is stopped by the stretched-out fabric, making his hand bounce back, but now stained with all shades of brown and tan, which somehow only makes him even more mad and turns him into a furious animal roaming around free and causing uttermost chaos in his all true sense.
Nothing can stop Huang Renjun when he opens the drawer he keeps all his artwork in, taking out all the graphite sketches and colored pencil drawings, and then the next one containing the watercolor paintings and various other acrylic paintings done on expensive sheets of paper, stacking all of those onto one pile in the middle of the table. Not one thing is safe– except from the digital artworks he keeps in his iPad and his big A4 sketchbook he forgot about in the heat of the moment, since he keeps it on his nightstand– when he takes the big, heavy stack of art and runs, chimes towards the entrance of his and Donghyuck’s miniature dorm room, luck only standing by his side once in this whole evening when his said roommate opens the door and clears the way for him, looking at the poor boy with mouth agape in a slight shock.
“What the fuck are you doing right n–”
Donghyuck doesn’t get an answer. When he asks stupid questions, Renjun doesn’t tend to pay him much mind, settling on not engaging with the discourse if it doesn’t make much sense, so Hyuck should be used to the ignorance– he thinks this was a very valid question to ask at this moment, though. If he was curious enough, he’d even follow his roommate down the hall and watch him in his endeavors only to find out what’s the intention behind his angry stomping and the fierce look on his face. The truth is, though, he doesn’t care all that much.
That doesn’t stop Huang Renjun, though, as he chimes down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, kicks the glass door open (thankfully not the actual glass part, because that would for sure be expensive) and practically runs the rest of the way towards the bins at the end of the street, dumping the papers into the bin (forgive him for not recycling in his current state of mind) before he angrily kicks the poor object twice for good measure and turns on his heel, slowly, but still as angrily making his way back to his dorm room by stomping all the way up until the entrance.
The dorm guard doesn’t even ask for his dorm ID like he usually does– Renjun must have been quite memorable as he ran out of the building with 5kg of artwork of various sizes in his arms– but the truth is, the man isn’t as old and he saw the boy going out just a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s necessary. Renjun would appreciate the memo, although, when he remembers that the man always asks for the dorm ID, especially on the nights out when he comes back slightly intoxicated and too disoriented to look for the little slip of paper in his pockets, and on the nights when he forgets his dorm ID as well– the man was set on letting him sleep on the front porch of the dormitory once and it took Renjun 15 calls to get ahold of a sleeping Donghyuck and another 15 of him walking down the hall in slippers and pajama bottoms with his roommate’s dorm ID in hand before he could warm his bones from the cold slowly seeping into his bones on the January night– and that whole thing makes Renjun somehow even more angry at the whole situation.
And so when he comes into his room again, Donghyuck now sitting on his bed still in his outside clothes (something Renjun hates and would murder for), and his eyes land on the damaged canvas still waiting for him in the corner of the room, he wastes no time in opening his window and throwing it down from the second floor, not really caring where it ends up or if he’s gonna get a fine for violating one of the dormitory rules– to never throw stuff out of the windows..
“Dude, what is–”
“Don’t ask.” Renjun huffs as he closes the door and peels his clothes off, taking a towel that’s still hanging from the top bunk of their bed and aims towards the bathroom door. A true tantrum can only end in a cold shower, and that’s what Renjun’s gonna do as he washes his dreams down the drain and ends up silently crying himself to sleep tonight in agony.
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It’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party since the days of ‘megaparties’ of Johnny Suh, the senior that’s slowly halting his party performance due to stilling in life. Renjun was dragged to Lee Jeno’s party by his roommate Donghyuck after he mourned in his bed for approximately two days before it got too much for the poor gemini, promising and honestly thinking that alcohol is truly the best solution for the poor boy’s misery. Again, it’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party of the year when he listens to the loud EDM music piercing through his eardrums and he swears he catches a glimpse of a couple dry humping on the couch.
Because he’s not.
He’s at a college party, sure. He’s also getting some alcohol into his system– because why not, am I right? He’s not the one paying, and that’s always enough of a reason to drink. Is it the best college party he’s ever experienced, though? Absolutely not.
It’s quite literally the worst party he’s ever been to. The music is too loud and the whole house smells of cheap vodka, people are pushing each other around and with the amount of alcohol in his system, the whole room feels like he’s on a boat, his stomach weak and his eyes hazy. Renjun must admit Hyuck’s therapy skills are kind of paying off– because at least now he’s not thinking about the wasted opportunity of a summer scholarship and is instead looking into the eyes of his cute classmate from History class across the room– but at the same time, he’s not thinking much of anything in this moment, and the glint of your eyes is the only thing he can focus on when you get closer.
That might be a good or a bad thing– depends on how the encounter goes. There’s a fine line between the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to get rid of his usual shyness and speak to other, much more attractive human species, and the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to black out and puke on the floor, efficiently making it impossible for him to chat up the cute classmate he’s been eyeing the whole semester and ruining his chances of ever being seen in a good light in front of the said person ever again. He prays intensely that he hasn’t crossed the line yet when you open your mouth and speak to him in the crowded kitchen.
“Renjun!”
“Y/N!” he tries to mimic your tone, a flashy grin settling onto his face when you approach him first. You two aren’t strangers, after all– you’ve sat together in class during various exams and also accidentally bumped into each other in the cafeteria, but what were your courageous attempts in making conversation with him and efficiently trying to make him more interested in you didn’t lead to your desired goal of getting invited out by him, instead leading him to think you’re just that friendly to everyone and not just him, making the chances of him taking the next step that much slimmer. Not tonight, though– he really must have had too much to drink.
“How are you?” you ask, clearing your throat as you bump into someone and decide to shift closer to Renjun, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat.
“Wonderful,” he gasps, and for some reason, the response laced in irony makes an excited laugh escape your throat, and the more he listens to your bubbly giggle, the more he wishes he did music instead of fine arts, because maybe if he was competent enough, he could mimic the sound in one of his songs and replay it over and over even when you’re not around. 
“That sounds very genuine,” you note, which makes the boy laugh in return, making him wonder if maybe he could have the same effect on you– if you’re smiling wider now because of the sound of his laughter, or if you’re just amused at something completely else. 
It’s pathetic, really– the gloomy boy that was trailing to this party behind his roommate Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen now, instead replaced by the cheap imitation of a ray of sunshine that you brought out of him only with the magic of a few words and the few drops of alcohol on his tongue.
“Oh, trust me, it was genuine,” he teases, and you only nod to his attempt at masking his obviously saddened composure from before.
“Having a rough week?” you ask, and you sound truly interested– something Renjun hasn’t found in the tone of his roommate when he insisted on dragging him here– and maybe that’s the reason why he just shrugs and decides to come clean and be honest with you. You seem like that kind of person that wouldn’t make fun of his troubles, the kind of person that would genuinely want to help– although he’s not seeking counseling tonight, he figures he can talk a bit about his shitty mood if it means that it gets the conversation flowing.
“A rough life, actually,” he snickers before he sees you eye him with a concerned look, “just joking,” he adds before he retracks back and fixes his initial answer. “Some things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, so I’m kind of moping around for a bit.”
You seem to feel empathetic towards the boy, nodding and pouting at his confession. “Well, I hope things get fixed for you, Jun,” you mumble, tone of voice encouraging– and maybe he could dwell at the caring nature of you a little longer, only if it wasn’t for your use of a nickname for him that just oh so sweetly rolls of your tongue and Renjun wishes he could legally change his name to the nickname so he could listen to the way it sounds forever– scratch that, to the way it sounds from your mouth forever, which means he won’t change it, just so it’s reserved for you and only you to say.
“What about you, though?” he finds himself asking in the midst of his inner screeching.
“Me? I’m great, totally fine, having the time of my life,” you emphasize, the over-the-top expression on your face making the boy burst into laughter as you wave your arms around as if to show him your surroundings. “I am a party person for sure, you know, so this is perfect,” you joke, and Renjun seems to get the memo. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you at a party before– not that he goes to many himself, which might honestly be the reason, actually– you could just be at different parties in different times that hadn’t overlaid, but by the way you’re currently tensely sipping at the alcohol in your hand, he figures you’re not too familiar with the scene of college partying.
“Who forced you to go? Was it your roommate?” Renjun remembers the girl from another one of his classes– you two were always walking around together and often got to class at the same time. Figuring out that you two lived together wasn’t as difficult, and she surely seems to be the more extroverted one.
“No, actually,” you say, eyes glimmering when he seems to remember the girl you share a room with, “to my surprise, honestly. It was another one of my friends– Na Jaemin, not sure if you know him– but the moment we got here, he disappeared and left me alone to deal with my thoughts,” you click your tongue and Renjun finds himself totally mesmerized with you– amazed with everything about you; the way you talk, the way you lean on the counter and watch him with stars in your eyes (which might just be the reflections of the kitchen lights, but don’t tell him that), the way you slightly lean into him when he cracks a joke and earns a laugh out of you…
“They always do that,” Renjun scowls, “they drag the introvert in and then force them to survive on their own…” he shakes his head in disappointment, clearly distraught over the situation. 
“Exactly! But if you ask them to come with you to a picnic, or to the library, they decline the offer. So much for being good friends,” you roll your eyes. Renjun finds himself smiling, and although he must admit that as every other college student, he himself would decline an invitation to a library if anyone asked, he’s like 99% certain that if it was you uttering out the question, he wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before joyfully jogging there with you. 
“Ask me next time,” he blurts out, a poor attempt at flirting, “I wouldn’t say no.”
And it seems like tonight is the night where you suddenly get the last kick of courage needed when you talk to Renjun– maybe fueled by his coy smile when he said the previous comment, maybe just acting out on pure hormones– tonight's the night where he breathlessly takes your offer, still not thinking much of it, but igniting a curious spark in his own heart nonetheless, when you scratch the back of your neck in the last residue of anxiety, scrunching your nose at him and mumbling under your nose, barely heard above the loud music resonating through the living room. “Do you wanna sneak into my dorm room, then?” 
Renjun almost chokes at your question– visitors in the dormitory are only allowed until midnight and as far as he’s aware, the clock is well after 2 AM right now, and he’s a male visitor, which is even more off the bounds in the eyes of the fierce woman guarding the entrance of the girl’s dormitory building. The more he stares at you, the more you seem to translate his silence into disagreement, which you panically try to undo with even more rambling. “I- I mean, since we both kind of hate this party and I think that if I drink more, I’m going to puke all over myself, so… My room is on the ground floor, so you can just climb in, if you wanted to. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there’s no one there, and we could– I mean, we don’t have to, honestly, but it’s kinda cold out and I thought we could both use a place more silent, ‘cause I really wanna head back now, but I don’t want to stop talking to you, y’know, and I don’t know if–”
“Okay, I’m down,” Renjun nods, efficiently shutting up your rambling, and when there’s a very apparent relief flashing over your face, he finds himself smiling in endearance at your antics, going as far as ruffling a hand through your hair in whatever kick the alcohol mixed with adrenaline gave him before you have him dragging his feet out of the house, both of your feet shuffling towards the campus.
The walk isn’t long, but he finds himself enjoying it. The condensation coming out of your mouths at the chilly weather serves more to the atmosphere when the both of you giggle out at absurd jokes and gossip, your voice breaking into soft hums when you sing a song under your breath in moments of silence that somehow feel both kind of awkward, but also kind of pleasant. He drags you by your hand to the other side of the sidewalk when a car passes by and you jump in surprise, eyes wide and glossy, mouth a little agape in an open-mouthed grin when his fingers stay intertwined with yours and you adjust your purse on your other shoulder, clearing your throat before you try to nonchalantly continue on with the conversation.
“I’ll go inside now,” you announce when you get to the girl’s dormitory building, breaking apart from the eager boy and coming closer to him when you confide the secret, “I’ll turn the light on in my room when I get there, so make sure to look out for the window. I’ll help you in, don’t worry,” you smile at him, and before he has a chance to reply, you disappear behind the glass door with a pep in your step. 
Renjun finds himself sighing– now is the moment when he should realistically get relief, the moment when he’s supposed to relax for at least a second and prepare himself for whatever might happen in your dorm room– but when he slowly walks over to the left wing of the building and squints at the dark squares of windows, he wonders how in the hell he’s gonna climb in. Escaping out will be an easy task– the windows aren’t that high up– but coming in will be the problem. He guesses it’s the same with the whole situation– he bets the easiest part of the whole evening will be jumping out and running to his own room– how to survive the night in your presence and not go completely insane, he doesn’t know and wishes he had a manual to before he agreed to do this in the first place.
When the light goes on in one of the rooms and you wave at him from the inside, he finds himself involuntarily jogging towards the window, gears in his brain turning faster than the speed of light when he reaches the wall and you grin at him, opening the window and offering him your hand. 
“If you grip the edge of the window and give me your hand, you can get in easily,” you say, watching as the boy cautiously looks around himself and scratches the back of his neck, mentally calculating his next movements.
“Have you done this before?”
“No,” you bashfully shake your head, “but my roommate did it twice, so I don’t think it’s that hard,” you note and nod at him, waiting for him to finally take action. 
Renjun finds himself doing what he’s been told– and even though he huffs and almost falls over to his back (which would kill him, he thinks, since his physique is very close to a turtle’s), victory fills his veins when one of his legs finally ends up in your window, his body stumbling forward and almost toppling you over when the warmth of your room welcomes him as he lands on top of your desk. 
“Welcome,” you laugh at him when he shakes his head in disbelief and takes off his coat, dropping it on top of the wooden table and watching you close the window behind him, so the cold doesn’t get in. 
“That’s one way of inviting guests over, I guess,” he teases you, watching as you roll your eyes at him and go over to one of the beds. Renjun notices the room is different to the one he shares with Donghyuck– you and your roommate have two beds instead of a bunk one, the table is right under the window and you get a little more space over-all. You turn on the little lamp kept on your bedside table, and the boy watches you with interest as you cautiously walk around your own room as if it’s your first time seeing it, reminding him a little of a deer in the headlights, clueless and suddenly out of ideas.
Renjun finds himself laughing at your behavior– he finds himself endeared by it, the way you play with your fingers in nerves and try to think of anything to do in the intimacy that suddenly envelopes you when you invite someone over to your dorm room in the middle of the night– and when you aimlessly end up standing in front of him, your big eyes even bigger and glossier than before, he snickers at the state of you and shakes his head.
“Okay, so I know I was the one who invited you over, but now I’m kind of helpless in what we should actually do and all…” you giggle, a little embarrassed when you bear your eyes into his, your body subconsciously slotted in between his legs, his position leaning on the edge of the table allowing you and inviting you to do so. 
“You’re cute,” he laughs at you, and before you have a chance to question him about the compliment, he has you silenced abruptly by his next actions.
“What do you–”
His hand is gripping your jaw and he leans into you, the newly found courage and affection towards you having him drunk on more than the alcohol, but also your whole presence– the way your hair smells when he’s this close to you, the way you pull the sleeves of your sweater further down when you don’t know what to do with your hands, the shyness in your gaze now that you have him in your cage– and his lips act on themselves when they press themselves against yours, soft but firm, tasting the strawberry juice mixed with vodka off your mouth, a surprised gasp against his lips more than enough to invite him even further in.
He feels your fingers tugging at his shirt and your skin growing hot under his touch, leaning back from you a little and finding you looking at him with a thousand different galaxies in your eyes, enough of a confirmation to him, but he’s a man– he still needs it vocally, when he grins lazily at you. “Was this one of the things you thought about when you invited me over?”
“Maybe…” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, a clearly battled grin trying to settle its way onto your lips.
“You should’ve just said so, then,” he smiles when he leans into you again, a little more confidently this time and kisses you again, again and again.
You stay under the window for a while, lips pressed hard against each other as you try to learn the curves of each other’s mouths by memory, lazy hands threaded into his hair and an arm around your waist now, steadying you in place. Foreheads pressed against each other when you break away for air, giggles resonating through the room when his lips make their way towards your neck and the softness of his hair tickles your skin, fingers threaded when you tug him towards your bed and you watch him kick his shoes off before you follow him onto the soft mattress.
His head falls into your pillow and you straddle his lap, your hair falling into your face when you look down at him from your position, the newly found dominance in your position charging you with unexplainable energy, and Renjun can’t help but smile at you sweetly when your eyes meet and you eagerly lean down towards him, fingers once again intertwined with his, hands laying next to his head. Your breath fans his swollen lips that you once again find yourself attacking, the contact overwhelming you and making it hard to breathe. Who knows how long the both of you have wanted to do this but never had the courage to– it’s a miracle that it’s even happening tonight.
And with the built-up desire, you act instinctively– hands breaking away from his when you grip his cheeks and give him one last peck, lips now traveling down his jaw and neck instead, having the boy shivering under the contact, your actions slowly but surely driving him crazy when you find his sweet spot and you get a satisfied gasp from him, a reward for your tonight’s efforts.
His hand grips your hip, and something about the burn of his fingers even through the fabric of your jeans makes you move on instinct, earning yourself a sharper hiss this time that doesn’t make you stop, however– quite the opposite, actually– as you break into a wide grin at the very evident effect you have on him, your movements slow and painful, but still having him harden under you.
Goosebumps appear all over your skin when his cold fingers capture the skin of your stomach when he aimlessly tries to find a place in your body to ground yourself, but the more he answers to your movements, the more encouraged you get. He tugs you back down so you’re facing him, which does nothing to halt your painful pace as he drags out yet another kiss from you. 
“If we don’t stop now, it’s gonna be really hard for me to do so later,” Renjun huffs into your ear, which only gets you more excited.
“Who said I want to stop?” you ask him, fingers trailing up his side over his shirt, yet still making him fire up and flush in his cheeks. “Do you want to stop?”
“Do I look like I wanna stop?” he snickers, shaking his head in utter disbelief, hand traveling dangerously close to the cup of your breast.
“Let’s continue, then,” you muse, peeling yourself off him only the slightest amount, hands dragging themselves down his body until you reach the waistband of his pants, gently dragging the fabric down until he’s left in front of you only with a tent in his underwear, big eyes curiously and breathlessly watching you in your actions. He could be a gentleman and tell you you don’t have to, tell you to stop and come back up and that he will pleasure you first, but the more he watches you as you palm him over the thin fabric of his boxer briefs with the dangerous doe eyes of yours, the less he wants to do just that. In all reality– who is he to deny a blowjob from you? Or anyone, for that matter?
His whole body shudders under your touch, actions careful, but so painfully satisfying. Renjun watches your face with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the reality of it all sobering him up and making him aware of each shift of your body, each centimeter your fingertip travels against his skin, each motion that slowly makes a bundle of nerves appear in his stomach. It only gets too much for him when you lean on your elbows, nails gently pricking the skin of his thighs as your mouth hesitantly greets his dick, and he feels like a virgin again when his eyes peel off you just in case he finishes just by watching you blowing him off like a highschooler at his first blowjob, forcing himself to watch the ceiling instead.
Eyes traveling all over your room– the closed window opposite of him, the bed on the other side of the room, the walls above your bed– he gets lost in the galaxy drawn on a piece of paper that’s plastered right above your pillowcase, and another graphite sketch of eyes bearing right into your soul, as if they were watching him in the act, and another one, of a deer that looks through the shade of the trees, before it hits him.
“Oh my god what the fuck–” he gasps, and his tone must have sounded too different to the satisfied moans that have been spilling out of his mouth up until now, because you abruptly stop your movements and your gazes lock, your eyes completely mortified.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“Oh– Oh god no, fuck, you’re doing amazing, trust me,” apologies spill off his tongue at your distressed state, “it’s just– where… where did you get these?” he asks, pointing towards all the drawings taped all over your walls that he failed to notice in the heat of the moment before.
“Oh,” you cluelessly hum, eyebrows furrowed, “I found them spilling out of a trashcan close to the boy’s dorms when I was walking to class one morning, and they were so pretty I had to take them.”
“I– you like these?” Renjun asks, full of strange surprise and genuine curiosity. You’re now sitting back on your heels and looking at the boy with big eyes, still slightly clueless and very much in a weird state of distress– because why would a man ask you about the random artwork on your wall in the middle of a mindblowing blowjob?– before you nod with a slight pout, agreeing.
“Well, I wouldn’t have decorated my room with them if I didn’t like them, y’know… Why are you… why are you asking?”
“Oh,” Renjun repeats again, a dumbfounded look taking over his soft features before he sits up on the bed and scoots closer to you, a weird sense of euphoria spilling out every vein of his body when the held-back dopamine is released into his system. A wide grin appears on his lips before he stares into your eyes with a milky way mirroring behind his eyeballs, glittering orbs haphazardly gliding over your face before he reaches your lips again, pecking them one, two, three times before you break away and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight crease right in between them.
“What are you–”
“I think I’m gonna literally cum just at hearing those words, Y/N,” he blurbs out before he kisses the tip of your nose again, completely endeared and close to a happy boy under the Christmas tree, and while you may enjoy that look on him, you’re still slightly confused. Huang Renjun sighs almost a little too dreamingly and smooths the wrinkle between your eyebrows with a careful swipe of his thumb, still not giving you any explanation.
“Renjun, I’m afraid I’m not quite following why this is so important to you right now,” you mumble, having your partner laugh airly– just as if all his worries escaped through the window and you fixed his life with a few drawings plastered on your wall.
“Those, dear Y/N,” he points towards the papers stuck to your walls, eyeing the specific one he worked for 3 hours on and kind of mourned the morning after he realized he threw it away, months of practice and art that maybe wasn’t even that bad in the first place ending up in the trash because of a fit of rage, “are all mine. Mine as in, I drew them… And then threw them out in the middle of a slight mental breakdown.”
You look at him for a few heartbeats, eye contact never breaking before you avert your gaze towards the artwork on the walls– it takes you a few seconds before it hits you– and you gasp, hurriedly looking back at the artist in front of you, stars glimmering in your eyes now as well, matching his excitement. “Oh my god, are you for real?”
“Yeah.”
“You drew all of these?”
“Yeah,” he nods again, breathless.
“This is an insane coincidence,” you snicker, and Renjun didn’t know he had it in him– maybe it’s still the effect of alcohol that slips off his tongue when he speaks– but he cages you in his arms as he kisses you again, a whole new world appearing in front of him when the cheesiness meets the comfort of your walls.
“You’d call this a coincidence?” he hums. “Maybe it was fate.”
Earning himself a sharp laugh, almost mocking him as you swat his shoulder, you fall back with him towards the mattress, and while the heated moment might be gone, you don’t mind at all. Renjun looks at you with a certain softness in his eyes, a pride swelling in his chest, and for a moment, it’s true and you truly did open up a new reality for him and changed his life forever, fixed all of his problems, if you will, because the appreciation it takes for a girl to tape up at least 20 of his messy artworks onto her wall after finding the stash in the trashcan on her way to class might just be the encouragement he needed to keep going with the craft. 
It’s hard to believe that this shitty party actually brought him somewhere– not only to your bed, but also to your life, to a beginning of something new and a restart in something he thought he’d forever be giving up on.
“So… Do you need those back? Because I kinda like them here,” you giggle, and the crinkle of his eyes is enough of an answer to you.
“You can keep them. I’ll just draw new ones you can look at,” he muses, stealing another kiss from you and squeezing your hip, having you squeal against his mouth.
“Now, to get back to what we were doing before–”
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ghostlykeyes · 5 months
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Hi, love your writing! Could I perhaps get some headcanons of Hearsteel with a (GN) tattoo artist partner? I'm a tattoo artist (apprentice) myself, and very curious. Thanks! 💕
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HEARTSTEEL /TATTOO ARTIST READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TW's ♡ I did Sett, Yone, and Kayn since they are the only HS members I'm writing for right now. ♡ Anon!! I would love to see some of your work sometime if you're comfortable sharing !! <3
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KAYN
Inspired by your art, Kayn buys a shitty tattoo gun off Amazon and messes around with it. He's not serious about tattooing, not really, but he thinks it's super cool that you do it. And, like anything he thinks is cool, he wants to try his own hand at it. (Plus, he wants to impress you. Oh, he may act like the picture of Rhaast he inked into the top-right edge of some practice skin is no big deal, but he actually spent like four hours on it and inside he's just screaming for you to compliment it.)
Protect your practice skin fiercely, because Kayn will absolutely nab some if he's bored. It's not uncommon to pull out a rubber sheet of practice skin and find scratchy sketches of demon masks and glowing eyes.
Kayn lets you tattoo him, as long as he gets to pick the design. He assures you he'll sit well, but it's a lie. He's a squirmy subject. Not because of the pain, mind you—he doesn't care about that. No, he's fidgety at the best of times, and with you so close to him, with you breath and your hands sending tingly heat across his skin? How is he supposed to keep still? Threatening you'll never kiss him again if he doesn't chill the fuck out might do the trick, though. Contemplating a life without good-morning kisses has him doing his damndest to sit still and let you do your work.
While Kayn likes all of your work, he's especially fond of the dark, the creepy, and the ultra-stylized. The more morbid drawings fit his bad-boy image, and the stylized ones? He respects innovation in all its forms, and he loves to see your artistic boldness so plainly expressed.
Kayn often sends you pictures of graffiti that he's proud of. In truth, he does it more for the property damage than artistic expression—but that's besides the point. He's picked up some skills along the way and of course he's going to use them to impress you.
If you ever, ever have a problem client, Kayn will explode in their face. Expect loud words, shoving, maybe a punch or two getting thrown. And if you don't want him exhibiting that kind of behavior in your shop? Well, fine, he can play nice. Just don't be surprised if you find out your little problem client finds themselves with "DUMB FUCKING CUNT" keyed into their car door. Kayn denies any and all knowledge of doing this. "Must've been Rhaast," he claims, but you're not so sure. Either way, it's a warning signal for your future clients to behave.
SETT
After you're sore from a long day shrimp-hunched over someone's leg, you don't even have to ask Sett for a massage. He already knows you're cramping up and he knows just how to make his fingers work. "Lay down," he tells you, and waits for you to get comfy before straddling your back. "Hold still, 'kay? I'm gonna take care of you, don't even worry 'bout it." His strong fingers gently rub at the knots winding up and down your spine, and he smooths the pain from your muscles. And this isn't some five-minutes-and-done back rub, either— he's committed to getting you right. Chat about your day, ask about his. He'll be up there for as long as you need.
Even if he's not interested in getting tattoos yet, Sett still loves your art, and he's willing to commit to something a little less permanent. Any time he's about to leave on tour and won't see you for a few weeks, he asks you to Sharpie a design on him. Whatever you want, wherever you want (just try not to abuse the privilege—he will never forgive you if you draw something embarrassing on his pecs the night before a huge show). He thinks it's sweet to have that little reminder of you etched on his skin. Sett will send you periodic updates of your sketch. If it's holding up well, expect to witness Sett twisting around awkwardly to show you in his daily post-gym selfie. When it's gone? He sends you a photo of blank skin, with a solemn text: "he's dead :(" . Don't worry about the untimely demise of this picture, though—you can draw him another as soon as he gets home!
Sett keeps some of his favorite flash designs of yours framed in his room.
It doesn't matter that he doesn't have any tattoos—if you or your shop sells t-shirts, Sett will wear them, and he'll do it proudly. He loves to represent you. All someone has to do is ask about it and it'll send him on a ten-minute (minimum) rant about his kickass tattoo artist partner, how talented and awesome they are. If you don't have a sleeveless option, though, don't be surprised if the sleeves "mysteriously" disappear.
YONE
Yone is interested in getting some traditional Japanese work done, but not for some time yet. Just know that whenever he's ready to ink up, if you're willing to tattoo in that style, you've got a client for at least a full sleeve, if not two. And when the day comes? Oh, Yone sits like a dream. He's the client from heaven, barely flinching and only taking breaks when you need a second to stretch. It's a bit difficult to convince him to put down his work, though, so be prepared to listen to Yone building some song beats with his free hand while you're buzzing along his other arm.
You both have rather demanding jobs and schedules, but Yone enjoys your quiet moments working together. He plugs away at his music while nearby, you finalize designs for clients and work on new flash pieces. Whenever he needs a break, he comes over and tenderly rubs your shoulders. Yone watches you work, occasionally breaking the silence to ask about certain design choices or what kind of client this tattoo is for. Watching you draw gives him a sense of peace.
Since he knows you work long hours, Yone always gets you a drink on his morning iced coffee run. He gets you lunch sometimes, too, if he knows you'll be spending the day in one long session and might not want to leave the shop. Yone knows what it's like to get lost in your work better than anyone, but he wants to make sure that even if you're in the zone, you've got something to drink and a bite to eat nearby. Now, if only you could get him to take care of himself the same way...
Dating Yone brings you a lot of new clients. Even though he left the mainstream music industry some time ago, he's still got friends within it. If anyone asks him for advice on where to go, of course he recommends you, which means you get your fair share of music artists coming to your chair. Of course, they always tip fabulously (they risk Yone's wrath if they don't).
Yone comes to you for advice on a lot of Heartsteel's artistic visuals. Their loud, messy, brash style meshes well with tattoo aesthetics, so he likes to run creative choices by you before implementing them. He also asks you to design some merchandise, if you're okay with doing that. Whatever you come up with, the guys absolutely love. Consider yourself the creative lead for all future merch endeavors.
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nerdieforpedro · 2 months
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Notes with Dieter
Dieter Bravo/husband x female reader/wife
My blog overall is 18+ MDNI
Word Count: about 1.1k
Summary: You're leaving for another work trip and Dieter is sad once again. This time, he decides to show you how much he cares in full Bravo style.
Warnings: Dieter is the softest boi 😭, side-eyeing a suitcase, illusions to smut?, kisses, doodles, just all the fluff, bad jokes
Notes: So this is a follow up to The Day before was always difficult. @angelofsmalldeath-codeine and @mysterious-moonstruck-musings are always asking more for more soft Dieter. So naturally, I took it as a request even though they didn't really ask? FYI Dieter is a koala 🐨 in this one, but he'll always be our lovable messy trash panda. 🦝 I think I used all the colors Hemmy. 😆
Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist
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Dieter used to love suitcases. It meant he was on the move to a new job or some new fun, sometimes both. Now he was more ambivalent about them. Coming home and seeing the hard shell gray suitcase meant that tomorrow morning you’d be gone again for a time.
It’s not like he didn’t know it in advance, you’d always let him know ahead of time. Especially if he was going to be at home alone. It didn’t make it hurt any less. Some might say that he should get over it, just relax and wait for your return, but Dieter isn’t that type of man. The tea kettle screeches with steam and he knows where you are: the kitchen. Instead of alerting you to his presence, he waits until you’ve poured your tea and is covering it to let it steep.
His chest gently presses against your back before his arms ensnare you just under your breasts, propping them up as you’ve showered and in your black cotton nightgown. You’ve decided on an early evening for yourself but Bravo has other plans as his lips to the nape of your neck tell you. A chuckle leaves your chest while you fix the rest of your tea, not intent on giving him a quarter into the game he’s trying to play.
But the two of you sit on the couch. Chatting about current events, he hasn’t made any more moves. Just watching you, listening to you, with an enamored grin. Another chuckle from you for how cute he looks, he’ll do this from time to time when you’re going to leave town again. Like he’s trying to paint a picture of you in his mind. You always remind him that he’s your reason to come home. Dieter always tells you he’s grateful for that.
After tea, it’s bedtime and there are kisses goodnight. He wraps his arm around your waist. You kiss his neck and begin the nightly activities. Apparently Dieter’s learned to just give you a nibble and you’ll do the rest. In the glow of the short hours of the dark, you pinch his cheek, figuring out his game before dozing off on his chest. Sticking to him, not wanting to let go.
Dieter steals out of the bed when you’re asleep and uses a notebook he keeps in his nightstand. He sketches your various expressions you made while on the couch and then how you look in bed right now, sheets half-covering you, your glory exposed for him to see. He has to capture it now else he could miss his moment.
Another idea pops into his head so he grabs his phone and steps out into the living room to record it for you. He plans to send it tomorrow morning while you’re at the airport so you can listen to it on the plane.
A handwritten note slid into your suitcase is for when you unpack. Carefully he slides back into bed, his thumb running down your back with a kiss to your shoulder.
The sun has barely broken the horizon when the alarm sounds, groans fill the room as you both stir. Washing up and getting dressed is your focus so Dieter makes a light breakfast for you with coffee. His eyes cut to your suitcase before he picks it up to carry it to the car his ordered for you, thankfully he was able to zip it back properly.
A text from Dieter says to listen to the message on the plane and to download it just in case. Your headphones are in after greeting your coworkers and the plane is at cruising altitude.
“Hey pretty lady, you know I never want you to leave. I know it’s selfish but I know I always feel better and do better when you’re here. You’re my person you know? Plus who else is going to tell me that many patterns don’t go together, everyone always tells me yes.
Anyway, have a safe flight and kick those old dudes asses. I hope your project goes well. I know you were trying to explain it to be but once you got into Access and databases I was gone. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna try googling it later. You can’t wear that navy blue dress because they’ll think they have a chance and you’re already with an Oscar Winner. They’re too late and I love you Ms. Smarty Pants. Hmm… You should wear pants. Bye.”
The two people sitting next to you thought that you needed some oxygen based on how hard you were wheezing trying to hold in your laughter. You told them that you were fine and it was just a message from your sweet husband, he has quite a way with words.
Thankfully when you landed, everyone was given time to rest in their rooms before the initial group dinner. Opening your suitcase, a piece of notebook paper fell out and you picked it up off the floor. Sitting on the bed you read it, shaking your head.
Sometimes I really do wonder why you’re with me at all, why you come home to me. Hell, why you call me home. I can be a complete and utter mess, irresponsible at times and I’m sure annoying. My one redeeming quality I thought was in creating art through film, painting and drawings. You helped me see that I’m more than that though. So much more. I can be faithful, I can be loyal, I can put someone above myself and I can do all these things without needing an escape.
I often wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t run over my foot with your suitcase and I didn’t sucker you into having lunch with me. You look as beautiful then as you do now, actually more so because we enjoy nighttime KitKats a few times a week. We dance it off part way so it’s fine.
I love you my brave, clever, gracious muse.
Your koala bear who runs hot,
Dieter Bravo
P.S. - You should frame this FYI
Falling back on the bed, you question when Dieter would have slipped this into your suitcase let alone written it. It’s completely in character for him and at the same time, seems so unusual. Trying to hold your tears back only makes them fall harder, you’ll need to re-do your makeup for the dinner but it doesn’t matter to you if you’re late. Dieter will never fail to make himself memorable.
Life as Dieter Bravo’s wife is always full of the unexpected and something to hold onto.
Trash Panda Posse 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @titlee78 @magpiepills @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @rhoorl @wannab-urs @survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @fhatbhabie @tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie
Special fluff guests: @grogusmum @maggiemayhemnj and @frenchiereading
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prkwook · 7 months
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MUSE 🎨 shen ricky
☆ pairing: artist bf!ricky x gn!reader
☆ genre: fluff
☆ wc: ~ 0.9k
☆ summary: ricky finds a muse in a stranger that would eventually become his one true love
☆ warnings: use of petnames (love, babe, hot stuff), y/n is called beautiful by ricky
☆ note: based on a req i got recently asking for artist ricky & of course i had to bc who doesn't love artist ricky?
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"the gracious muse who tuned my soul to pure harmonies, i became fond of her, and, as it often seemed to me, she of me." - ludwig van beethoven
Being a musician, you always heard talk about having a muse but you never expected to be someone’s. You certainly had found your own in your longtime boyfriend, Ricky. When you love someone as much as you loved him, creating art with them in mind becomes second-nature. Little did you know that he felt the same way about you long before you met.
“Hey y/n, do you mind if we stop by my studio on the way home? I forgot my paint brushes there this afternoon and I need them for class tomorrow. It’ll be quick, I promise.” your blond-haired boyfriend says to you as he helps you get your coat on.
“Yeah, of course!” you respond with a smile. You secretly love going to his art studio. You’ve always loved seeing his art, seeing the things he can create with just a pencil, some paint and paintbrush. In the past 3 years you’ve been together, his talent has never ceased to amaze you.
“Thank you, y/n.” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead. The familiar feeling of butterflies creeps up and makes you blush. In order to distract him from your rosy cheeks, you take hold of his hand and lead him out of the Thai restaurant you were regulars at. 
As always, he walks over with you to the driver side of the car he bought you for your first anniversary and opens the door for you. In an effort to make you laugh, he pretends to climb into the driver seat. He pats the covered passenger seat and without missing a beat, he says “Hop in, hot stuff, let me take you for a ride.” in the most Chad voice ever, finishing off the bit with a wink. You laugh and give him a small slap to the arm. Mission = success! 
Still laughing, you respond with “Okay Max Verstappen… you and what license?” As he climbs out of the car, he says something along the lines of “fair” and then offers you his hand to help you into the seat he had just occupied. Once he’s seated in his passenger princess throne, he queues up your go-to playlist and buckles up. You don’t need any directions since you know the route by heart. You can’t even count how many times you’ve driven these roads, bringing pick-up to his studio so you can keep him company on those inevitable late nights. 
You park in your usual spot and hop out. Just like the gentleman he is, Ricky is already at your side, ready to offer a hand for you to take and as always, you take it and walk with him into the studio. Once you walk in, Ricky departs to go find his missing items with a “I’ll be right back, love.” and you’re left by yourself and his art. Looking around, a sketchbook laying open on his desk catches your eye. At first, you don’t want to look but curiosity gets the best of you and you sneak a glance. It’s a sketch of you sitting on stage with your cello, deeply immersed in the piece you were playing but somehow you still look completely at peace.
You remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the spring talent show and your high school orchestra teacher had signed you up without you knowing. You found out a day after the deadline to drop out, so you were stuck doing it. The day of, your stage fright was so bad that you almost considered just not showing up, but something in the back of your mind told you that you had to go and so you did. When it was your turn, you walked nervously out onto stage with your cello in one hand and your sheet music in the other. Once seated, you looked out into the audience and made eye contact with a red-haired boy. He smiled at you and nodded, as if queuing you up to start. During the song, you would periodically glance over at him and he was always there with a smile and a look of encouragement. That red-haired boy not only turned out to be the boy you now call your boyfriend but also that was the day that you discovered your love for the cello. 
“Hey babe, what is this?” you called out to Ricky, who was now walking back towards you, paintbrushes in hand.
“Oh, this? Nothing, just my old sketchbook from high school. Why?”  
“Look at this. We didn’t even know each other then.” you say with a laugh. 
“I know. I just thought you looked beautiful while playing. And clearly, I like drawing beautiful things.” He gestures to the wall behind him that’s full of sketches and paintings clearly inspired by you. 
“Wait… when did you do this? I’ve never seen this before.”
“It was kind of supposed to be a surprise for your birthday but I forgot so … Surprise!” He sheepishly grins and attempts to do jazz hands.
All you can do is laugh and pull him in. You give him a kiss and look him in the eyes. 
“Thank you, sweet boy. It’s beautiful.”
You realize in this moment that you would give anything to be able to be his muse in every life.
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daedelweiss · 1 year
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DTIYS IS HEEEEREEE!!!✨️ wanted to thank you all for your overwhelming support on life mission, the comic, and even my own iteration!! y'all are the sweetest beans and i'm so so happy to share my little blorbos to all of you 💖
this is my first DTIYS so please bear with me 😄 here are some of the rules of my DTIYS:
1. you can change the setting, poses, etc. just keep the 4 brothers together, their outfits, and the starry sky because i associate LM!Leo with stars 🌟 2. tag me and tag the post with #daeslifemissionDTIYS and life mission's official hashtag ➡ #rottmnt Life Mission AU 3. deadline is March 10th!!
i will choose one main winner will win a free colored art of any character and 2 runner ups who will win a cleaned sketch of one character 👀
in case you need help figuring out the bois' full outfit, i have the temporary character sheet of them on "keep reading” section! will be making a full character sheet soon and updated profiles for them though 😄
hope y'all have fun!!! and thank you again 🥰💖 • ( 🌿 please do NOT repost, edit, trace, use, and/or sell 🌿 )
temporary character sheet:
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better view of the full piece:
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sinning-23 · 9 months
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My Latest crush is an alien car from space Pt.2
Okay so iwasnt expecting so many Mirage smps to like up my post but HEYYY welcome home yall lmao. Heres part two and let me know is yall want like a tag list for the next couple parts. ANywhoo there's some tension that forms this chapter so start getting ready for more flirty and spicyyyy interactions with old boy.
Heres the link to pt.1
Heres the link to pt.3 shawty
ANywho ENJOY!
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Pt.2
Touch me softly 
Mirage had allowed you to explore his anatomy, and he was more willing than you thought. You had managed to make a nice little sketch of his body and made 4 separate copies to try and get a placement in where everything was. Then you had 5 more separate sheets just in case there were some more internal systems you wanted to note. He watched as your eye brown pinched and formed a line on your forehead and your fingers guided the pencil to the paper. 
“Wow, you drew me kinda sexy.” He jokes making you draw a breath trying to hold back a laugh. 
It really wasn’t sexy, it was about the equivalent of the Vitruvian man drawing and basic anatomical positioning for a robot. He watches you stand, hair pulled back, yet a couple of braids still fall in front of your face. He’s quiet, looking at the way you focused so intensely on exploring him.
When you gestured for him to move his leg, he did so without complaint, the feeling of your soft, warm hands under his exteriors heating him up from the inside. Of course, you’d never know that unless you kept poking and prodding. 
“Ok so compared to me, and well, other humans I’m sure your overall body parts are called different things. So let’s start from top to bottom, yeah?” You suggest, eager to learn. 
Mirage kneels in front of you, giving you an opportunity to see better. You’re much smaller than him, but he could tell when you stood next to Noah you were definitely average human height. Small to him but normal to everyone else. 
“Alright I hope you’re ready cause there’s a LOT.” He explains, clearing his throat as you move closer to his face just to see better, he blinks a bit, getting used to the feeling.
You smile slyly, placing your hand under his chin to  guide his face, 
“Let’s start with your face. Stick out your…tongue?” 
He opens his mouth and lets the ‘flesh’ inside lol out before speaking 
“Gloth-ah” he announces and you tilt your head in confusion, only for him to repeat.
“Glossa” 
You nod prodding at what you soon learned was his helm and face plates. You brush over his vocalizer for a moment and he hums, high-pitched enough to be a moan but not loud enough for either of you to acknowledge it. You know what you heard though.
“Whoa- lets not touch that alright ma?” He asks. 
Soon enough your trailing downward and when you do he announces each part for you to make a note of. This is the quietest he’s been since earlier today. He lets you work, touch, poke, pull, and press whatever you'd wanted. It’s not like it hurt really, but he’s never had something smaller than him want to examine at such close range and actually touch places he’d never been able to. In fact, it was kind of nice-
He yelps when you slide your hand down his chest plate and even farther under his chassis. You pull away, startled at the noise with wide eyes. 
“OK, that’s enough exploring don’t you think?” The statement is rushed and you side-eye him when what sounded like cooling fans whirred from inside.
Had you gotten him worked up? Maybe those were sensitive spots that had never really been touched like that before? You nod, not wanting to pry and ruin this newfound friendship by being a perv. You collect the papers and paperclip them together as he begins to wind down. It's about 6am now, and the sun peeks in through the garage windows. Your dad should be awake about now and- 
You gasp pushing Mirage back into the space he was originally parked in last night(even though he didn’t budge). Your dad couldn’t know about this! AT ALL! Knowing him he'd stress out and then his pressure would get too high and he’d have a heart attack and-
“Whoa hey, what the rush, mamas? Got something to hide?” Mirage questions, figuring out why you were trying to get him back into a corner. 
Was he being clueless on purpose?!
“YES, YOU! Now go back to being a car! My dad can't know about you, it might just be the death of him.” You huff out, gripping your scalp and pacing back and forth. He gets the idea, chuckling a bit before right back to that beat-up Porsche.
You sneak out the garage, tiptoeing up the stairs and into your room. And the moment your head hit the pillow, not even a tornado could wake you. 
__________
You'd be lying if you said you didn't sleep the rest of the day away. By the time you woke up it was already 3-4pm and sounded like your father was cleaning up the kitchen. You sigh, running yourself a shower considering you didn't get one the night before. Mirage was still in the garage as far as you knew and you were hellbent on getting the rest of those notes.
You step in, the water feeling soothing against your skin, steam filling up the bathroom as you sigh in relief. Thoughts of your apartment fill your head. 
‘Maybe Mirage could help with the unpacking? Or maybe not. He could be spotted and then that’s more problems for us. Mirage…..Miraaaaageee….’
Your turn to face the water, soaping up your towel as suds slide down the drain. 
‘I wonder if a car wash is the equivalent of a shower for him….does he stay a car or like…fully transformed….does he have a-‘ 
Shutting the water off you opt to pull your hair back today since youd being doing more exploring. The steam from the bathroom escapes when youleave and pad downstairs, catching a glimpse at the note you father let you on the kitchen counter
~Working late, leftovers in the fridge~
You smile to yourself, grabbing a bottle of water to try and beat the obvious heat outside and head to the garage. Sure enough, the Porsche is right where you left it. Mirage is right where you'd left him, and when you tap on the window, the doors unlock almost instantly. You flatten the back of your blue jean skirt and adjust the seat. Awfully quiet today?
“Well good afternoon to you too sunshine? You realize it’s almost 5 right?.” You joke, hearing him rev his engine and the radio humming to life with the sound of his voice. 
“You had me up all night! Looking this good doesn’t happen on its own! But how tired can I be when a pretty girl in a miniskirt‘s got her thighs on my seat?” He shoots back, making you gasp. 
“Drive you flirt, I got more notes to take. Wanna go to that garage you took me to yesterday?” You ask, using the garage clicker to leave. 
It was hot, the sun beating down on you as Mirage insisted you keep the windows down instead of running the ac. The streets were somewhat empty on this fine Sunday morning and Mirage’s only response was to drive in what you assumed was the direction to the garage. You fidget with the radio nobs and glance at the aux cord below the cd player. Maybe he did have CDs in here? You open the armrest to find nothing but-
It was easy to be nosy and explore when Mirage could drive himself, youd put that together on your own last night. There was so little you knew about him but his demeanor overall made you feel comfortable enough to ask. He was…charming. You pull the blank CD case out the armrest, and dust it off. 
“MIrage’s Mix (from-)”
The name was scratched off, well more smudged than anything. You crack the case open and slide the CD into the player, the wait for the music to start making you a bit nervous. Had he realized you'd put it in? Was it personal? You begin to regret your decision but before you could press the eject button, it began. N.W.A. blasted from the speakers, startling you for a moment but you're soon amused.  What did he know about N.W.A?
________
It doesn't take much longer for you to arrive at the garage, most of the lot being empty while the two of you enter to complete more of your research. You set your purse down, taking the papers from yesterday out and trying to organize them as he peers over your shoulder.
“Still think you drew me sexy-”
You scoff playfully and push him a bit, not moving him in the slightest but still, but he still finds it amusing. 
“Stop it, I need you to sit so I can finish. You got all squeamish on my last night.” You tease, sliding your hand down the back of his ‘leg’ and he freezes.
He kneels back down, watching your every move. Your fingers hover over his vocalizer, the warning from yesterday replaying in your mind. Right, don't touch. You skip his chest plate and chassis, watching his expression slightly change to disappointment for what seemed like only a second. Again, he announces each part of himself, the air slightly awkward and VERY quiet. Maybe now was the time to try and strike up some more conversation.
“Soooo, where are you really from?” You ask, writing down each part you trace over when he speaks. 
“Cybertron actually. Not in your solar system lil mama.” He flirts, turning his palms slightly open when you tap them. 
Servos 
"Never been?" He jokes again, admiring how small your hand looked compare to his.
'Careful Mirage your size kink is showing' he thinks to himself, avoiding your gaze.
You shake your head in response, looking at the details of his hands, moving back to his torso, purposefully skipping over the plated area between his thighs. Boundaries were definitely not something you wanted to cross, trying not to make him uncomfortable. I mean, he was willingly letting you poke around, and he clears his throat when you skip that spot.
“You, you can look if you want. And touch…ask questions. It's all good babygirl.” He offers, almost melting when you look up from under your lashes at him.
 He could practically feel his pump about to explode. Why did Earth girls look so damn pretty? Mirage couldn't wrap his head around it honestly, the feeling he got when he passes a pretty girl when Noah would take him for drives. How they would gasp if he revved loud enough to embarrass Noah a bit but also score him a couple numbers.
Talk about a damn good wingman. You were different though.
You were a softer kind of pretty…He'd seen you come into the garage so many times before you really met. The day your dad parked him in that spot, he watched you skip in with your little low-rise jeans, the piercing you sported shining in the sunlight. 
You hugged your dad, eyes lighitn up at the new car with a gasp. 
“A Porsche! Dad oh my gosh really?” You ask, seeing him nod. You squealed more, inspecting his paint job, it was just as beat up then as it was before you officially met. 
You chatted on and on about how ‘cute’ he’d look when you finally got to paint him a nice shade of hot pink and added your glitter seat covers. Not so exciting for him considering pink wasn't particularly his favorite but god did you look adorable when you were excited. 
And there was that same look. Pure, unbridled excitement, yet your eyes shone almost darker this time. That look is almost salacious. It makes him swallow hard, legs opening a bit more and you brush your hand over his thighs, sparing one more glance as if to ask, ‘Are you sure?’ He only nods. 
“Mirage, you gonna keep telling me what everything is, or am I to assume on my own?” You question, tracing the skirt plate.
Ita hard to speak, his fans feelijg as if they were working overtime to keep him from overheating. Primus you looked so pretty between him and now he was wondering how would you look riding his-
You stop touching, whistling to get his attention. Damn, he kinda liked that.
“ ‘Rag, we good?” You questions and he swallows hard at his new nickname.
Where did all that slick talk go now? 
“Yeah, y-yeah we’re good ma.” He responds finally, optics low when your light chuckle reaches his ears. 
You slide your hands up and down his midsection plating, teasing at this point. How was he supposed to focus on helping you learn when you touch under his plates like that? When your fingers slide over his thighs and over the skirt plate over and over, the pace only makes him want to thrust into your touch.
He felt perverted sort of, getting off on you exploring him in the name of science. That was such bullshit. He looks down at you, watching you pinch your lip between your teeth. Oh….you liked this. Your thighs pressed together as your tongue darts out to lick your lips. 
You look up at him again, smile mischievous. And before he could ask any questions you slid you hand right back to his chassis and vocalizer. Oh that was a moan without a doubt. You hum in satisfaction, you’re practically playing with him, his body. It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t been touched like this in so long either p.
“Wanna tell me what happens if I keep touching you like this?” You purr, seeing Mirage avoid eye contact. 
“C’mon ma, don’t mess with me like this.” He breathes out, hollow.
You stop your ministries after hearing tires and revving come to a halt. With footsteps approaching you stand quickly, Mirage doing the same. He crosses his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall as if he’d been caught while you shove the papers into your bag and swallow hard. You’d never moved so fast in your life.
Noah enters, feeling as if he’s just interrupted something but panicking once he realizes the predicament you were about ot be in. Why were you two here? Did Mirage even think this through? Probably not.  He glances back at the other 3 bots behind him, trying to find a quick solution to hide you. But, before he could get any sort of plan out, three other robots similar to Mirage walked in, and one of them, was not at all pleased. 
“Primeee, i had no idea youd be back so soon!”
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Lemme know waht yall think in the comments lmao and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist as well!
Mini Taglist: @gniteruirui @veggiepizzababy panty-h03
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an-albino-pinetree · 5 months
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I’ve made some changes!! :]
He’s completely colourless to make him different from @sm-baby ’s Carnival boy
He’s like an unfinished cartoon/a cartoon that never got the “okay go” so stayed as a rough sketch idea
And instead of a film reel, I’ve decided he’s attached to the existence of an unburnable indestructible model sheet of his character. It sits on an easel in a box.
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