Heyyyyy
I suck at coming up with requests but I want stories so bad lmfao 😭✋
Anyways, I saw that you were looking for requests and decided to throw one over.
Could you do a story that has to do with Matt and a reader who is really artsy and will straight up draw on his arms and color in his tattoos at the most random times?
Hope thats not too terrible an attempt at a concept lol, thanks
🦥
You Drew Stars (M.S.)
contains: fluff, kissing, general teethrotting sweetness, 900+ words
a/n: anon do you even remember requesting this? lmao listen i love you. this is a bit different from what you said butttt i tried.
“You sure you won’t be bored?” Matt asks as he settles in his gaming chair, looking over his shoulder to where I’m seated.
I smile over at him and shake my head at the question. It's one he asks every time he starts a stream when I’m around. “I’m sure. But are you sure it’s okay if I paint in here?”
After I fell asleep waiting for him to finish a game last week, Matt came home with an unreasonable amount of art supplies. I’d been watching Bob Ross videos on repeat for a couple of months- What can I say? He’s a gateway drug- and he thought I'd like to try painting for myself.
“Of course you can. That’s like the whole point.” Matt answers with a smile. I readjust the sheet under me anyway before I squeeze a small amount of paint onto my palette.
As I start to sketch out an outline with a pencil, I hear Matt start his stream and greet everybody. He starts his game up and begins to explain where he is in his game so I pop in one of my airpods and try to focus. After about twenty minutes, Matt swivels his chair around quickly and I look up at the sound.
“What’s on my floor?” He reads out with a laugh making me realize I hadn’t thought to check if I was in the frame. But it's too late now and I’m not about to crawl across the floor so I pop my head up and wave. “Hi, chat.”
He gestures out for me so I stand and go to his side, letting him wrap an arm around my waist. I lean into him, resting my head against his, while I read. “I was painting but I’m just a beginner. It’s not good yet.”
“That’s not true,” Matt says, holding up his phone and showing off his lock screen. It's a picture of a drawing I did on his back a couple of days ago. We’d been watching a movie in his bed when he fell asleep so I’d taken the opportunity to paint Charmander. “She did this in like an hour. I didn’t want to wash it off.”
I roll my eyes at him and squint at the chat trying to pick out a comment to respond to. “Do another one? I should when he’s done streaming.” I say with a smile, going to pull away and lay back on the floor.
“You can do it now,” Matt says, pulling me back to him. “Go get the other chair. I’ll stay still.”
I give him a look of disbelief. “You can’t sit still and stream.”
“I only need one arm. C’mon.” He says, moving me gently out of his way so he can scoot his chair over.
Well, I guess this is happening. I shrug and do what he says, collecting my art supplies and rolling the spare chair over to him.
I decide to try painting tiny planets because they seem easy enough and they fill in the gaps between his tattoos. He smiles when I begin, muttering about it tickling, but then turns his attention back to the game.
To his credit, he does try to keep his promise and stay still, only jumping up or making a big disturbance a couple of times. When I’m done, I sit back and stare at his arm. It’s kind of cute when you turn your head and squint.
Noticing I’m not painting anymore, Matt looks down at his arm and gasps dramatically. “Look, guys.” He says, carefully lifting his arm to show his stream.
I cover my face with my hands and shake my head. “You’re so embarrassing.”
He nods at where his phone lies between us. “Take a picture before I accidentally fuck it up.”
*******************************************
A week later, I’m still being tagged in edits of us from the stream. Currently, I’m lying on my stomach, kicking my feet and giggling over the comments on a new one. ‘The way he looks at her. God, when will it be my turn.’ As if my ego needed more stroking. Just as I like one asking if I can fight, Matt’s door opens and I look up. I hadn’t even heard them come home.
“Hi, baby.” He says as he pulls off his shirt and opens his closet. My face screws up when I notice his arm has been wrapped in saran wrap. “Hey. You got a new tattoo? You didn’t tell me.”
Usually, the night before he gets a tattoo, he googles images to have a good idea of what he wants. We stay up for hours looking through drafts together so I’m a little sad he didn’t want my input this time.
Matt grins at me, coming over to sit on the bed. “It was a surprise.” He starts to unwrap his arm, wincing slightly, and my jaw drops when I recognize what it is.
With as light a touch as I can manage, I smooth my fingers over the tiny drawings of Saturn and Venus. My eyes start to water as I look up to meet his eyes. “You got my painting.”
“I did.” He says, leaning in close and placing a kiss on my jawline.
“Why?” I ask, in equal parts wonder and bewilderment. “You said you want to fill that gap with something special.”
He pulls back and raises his brows. “It is special. My girl drew it for me.”
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