#in my head it’s like his default outfit………..

[1000dactyls]

i was a so called warm-up sketch enthusiast up until when the sketch suddenly had strong words for me (about hiccup in a fisherman’s sweater)

[seasicksilver]

in art block hell

[zyafics]

GIRL WITHOUT A TAIL | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe seeks Sarah's help about what to do with you.

Word Count — 1.7K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, Sarah acting like a bitch, and you acting clueless and afraid of everything except your mate, also suggestive ending. A continuum of this piece!

Dedication — to @nemesyaaa my own little mermaid, and @promiscuousg1rl for reading it first <3.

“She’s a mermaid?”

Rafe’s telling Sarah about his encounter with you. After taking you back to Tannyhill, you confide in the stranger—your mate—that you’re a mermaid. It’s your first time on land, with legs, and why you wobble with each step. But Rafe didn’t believe you.

However, the conviction in your voice had him second-guessing. The way you peer up at him with such innocent, enchanting eyes that blink with such naivety, he wanted to protect you with all the fibers of his being. He felt like he was being sucked into a trance, not thinking straight, that he sought out a secondary opinion.

Well, more like that she forced him to tell her.

Because Sarah didn’t see a helpless woman who needed Rafe’s help. She saw a stranger, walking around the estate, barely wearing any clothes, except for a half-assed outfit strung together from her brother’s closet.

“Have you gone insane?” Sarah snaps at Rafe, her tone dripping with disbelief. “A mermaid? The fairytales Dad used to tell us about when we were kids?”

Rafe feels insane for believing it.

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Rafe declares, “But that’s what she told me.”

Sarah blows out a stream of air, shaking her head. “Seriously, Rafe. What type of women are you sleeping with?”

“I’m not sleeping with her,”

“Yeah, because being naked is a default setting,”

“I found her like that,” Rafe hisses at his sister. “She was at the beach, naked, with these fuckin’ seashells as a bra. What else do I suspect?”

“Not a mermaid,” Sarah insists, as if it was the most normal response. She glances towards Rafe’s bedroom, where you stay, and sighs. “Have you asked her where she’s from?”

“The ocean,”

Sarah glares. “Not funny.”

“That’s what she told me,” Rafe declares.

Sarah shakes her head again as if she can’t believe her brother would believe in such nonsense. “Alright, I’ll do it. I guess men can’t do shit,” Sarah announces, grabbing Rafe’s arm and hauling him back to his bedroom.

You stand near the corner of his desk, going through everything of his. All family portraits hung behind glass, all his trinkets he found from scouting the beaches, all the golden rings he wears, and the expensive colognes he sets to the side. Your fingers trace each and every curve, feeling the magnitude of each touch, without the presence of water, in a way that allows you to feel each edge. You don’t even notice Sarah and Rafe’s return until someone clears their throat.

Turning around, you spot your mate beside another woman, her hand wrapped around his wrist. Your brows furrow together, full, pouty lips pull to a subtle frown, unsure of what to make of it. Back in Atlantis, no partners would be so shameless to be seen with another mermaid. For Rafe to do so, strikes your chest.

Rafe must’ve picked it up. Somehow, he understood the look behind your eyes, the way you scrutinize his sister’s touch. “This is Sarah, my sister.”

All concern drops, and you grin. “Hi, Sarah!”

“Hi,” She drawls sardonically. “My gullible brother is telling me you’re a mermaid,"

Rafe wants to nudge Sarah in the ribcage. But, you didn’t seem to acknowledge the insult, nodding your head diligently, as if you were answering an average question. “Yes.”

Sarah squints her eyes at you. “A mermaid with no tail,” she boasts suspiciously, but you don’t see it as that.

“Yes,” you answer again, your tone indicating causality as if this concept isn’t hard to grasp.

“So a human,” Sarah concludes, drawing back to the board, just as Rafe done before.

“No,” you make a sound of frustration; you went through a similar conversation with Rafe before, and you feel something tense bubbling in your throat. You attempt to walk towards them, to explain further, but you lost your footing. However, Rafe easily appears by your side and catches you.

“Alright, Bambi, slow down,” he murmurs into your freshly-dried hair; soft, voluminous, laced with the sweet smell of the sea. You peer up at him, doe-shaped eyes with complete and total vulnerability, as if you trust him.

“She certainly got the walk down,” Sarah comments and Rafe lifts his gaze to glare at his sister. You shiver under his embrace, and for some reason, Rafe recognizes it’s because of Sarah.

She’s making you uncomfortable and targeted like you can’t seem to grasp that. Rafe can’t explain how he knows this—how he feels it—but he does. You’re frustrated, and a little hurt, and it’s vibrating off of your body like a shaken leaf.

“Stop interrogating her,” Rafe snaps, defensive of you.

“You asked for my opinion,”

“An opinion, not to be a bitch,” he declares, his other arm wraps protectively over your waist, drawing you closer to him. You revel in the feeling of his warmth, nuzzling against his chest to find comfort.

Sarah rolls her eyes; somehow, she recognizes that you got her brother under a spell. “So what happens now?”

Rafe doesn’t know. He’s trying to figure out the pieces and combine mythology with reality, but nothing makes sense. If he takes your words at face value, that means there’s a reason for your presence, rather than a simple encounter. He plans to take a trip to Ward’s office, to look through his treasured collection of sailor’s stories, and figure out a solution from there.

But there’s also another problem: you.

You and your nakedness.

“Can you do me a favor and take her shopping?” Rafe asks.

“Shopping?” Sarah repeats. “For clothes?”

“No, for a ring,” Rafe replies sardonically. “Yes, for fuckin’ clothes. She didn’t have anything, she barely fits into me, and I doubt you’re the type to share.”

Sarah hums, confirming the last comment.

When Rafe turns back to you, in his arms, his expression softens, his voice layered with a sweetness no one ever had the privilege of hearing before. “We’re going to get you some clothes.”

“Clothes?” You repeat, brows wrinkling together at the foreign concept. “Human clothes?” You pick at Rafe’s shirt, running your fingers across the soft fabric.

He nods. “Clothes.”

You beam at this new exploration; this new human concept that you’ve never had before. You try to stand on your own feet, nearly falling, before finding ground. Sarah approaches you and gently grabs your hand, pulling you towards the door—slowly, cautiously to not lose your footing—but, a few steps in, you resist.

Rafe isn’t following you. He’s abandoning you to a strange woman, a strange companion you don’t completely trust in.

You turn back to Rafe, expression full of panic.

“You’re not coming?” You ask, your voice sultry and soft, as if you can’t seem to distinguish between captivation and causality.

Rafe shakes his head, but his heart aches at the look on your face. “I have work to do.”

You frown. You don’t know if you want to go now either, especially without your mate. But his sister tugs on your arm, and despite her tight grip, you resist.

“Sarah’s my sister,” Rafe explains again, hoping to calm the fear in your eyes. “She’ll keep you safe.”

You hesitate, turning back to Sarah, expecting to find the sardonic, humorless look on her face. But all hostility originally boasted has depleted, and she glosses over with a tender look, almost keeping to the promise of what her brother preaches.

Reluctantly, you nod, and follow Sarah out of Rafe’s bedroom, out of the sanction, and away into the open world.

A few hours later, Rafe’s at the kitchen island, going through old scripts. He’s searching through old maps, and old journal entries, to find any clues about your sudden presence at Kildare. His focus tunes everything out—until the noise of you tripping upon return causes him to lift his gaze.

What he sees takes his breath away.

You’re in the most gorgeous, detailed dress; layered with this blue iridescent color that makes you look like a fantasy. It accentuates every curve on your body, strategically revealing tantalizing skin, and boosts this wave of etherealness.

Rafe can’t seem to look away.

Sarah falls in line beside the counter, her arms leaning against the island, noticing the way you caught her brother in a trance.

“Your little mermaid eats fish,” Sarah declares, causing him to snap out of his state.

He turns to her. “What?”

“I mean, for a mermaid, she can eat fish; for some reason, I assumed they only ate kelp,” she chuckles to herself. Rafe realizes that Sarah took you out to lunch, at some restaurant downtown. “If it helps, she’s also very knowledgeable about the sea. Kept going on tangents about different species, how they interact in the ocean, and even challenged a couple of jewelry stores about their pearls. I was almost convinced she’s a real mermaid.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, his sister’s voice slowly slipping into the background when his gaze returns back to you.

You’re twirling in your dress, catching your footing, and losing it in the same breath, while laughing at the way the fabric spins around you. A melodic, siren-song laugh that sounds enchanting.

“What?” Sarah asks, noting his brother’s lack of response. She follows his line of vision. “You don’t like the dress?”

Rafe swallows, feeling something thick in his throat, before rubbing his jaw. He forces himself to snap out of it—again—before turning back to his sister. The lure to return back to you is hard to resist. “You couldn’t have found something less… form-fitting?”

Sarah scoffs. She can’t believe Rafe’s complaining. “You should be glad I got her into something at all,” she declares. “For a mermaid who’s so fascinated with human customs, she truly does not respect any of it.”

“What do you mean?”

Rafe returns back to you, and the way you find your space in his living room, while Sarah lowers herself to her brother’s level, meeting the shell of his ear, as if she’s trading a secret.

“She’s not wearing any panties.”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR MERMAID!READER: @fullofsunshineandloneliness / @erwinsvow / @perfectprettypisces / @immalosersblog / @carolinevoight

[gingerteafairy]

more rodrick fics please!!

yesss, i was missing him (i always go back to my default crush)

rodrick heffley x emo!reader

summary: Rodrick never really believed in love at first sight—until he saw you. Just another girl he’d never noticed in college, walking by in a Green Day shirt.

tags n warnings: fluff, a bit suggestive. word count: 1.3k masterlist

“Oh, I…” The words slipped out before he could think, and you stopped, pulling out one of your earbuds.

“What?”

“That band… uh… band. Green Day.” He pointed awkwardly at your shirt, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “You're... American Idiot.”

“Am I?” you teased, the silly wordplay catching him completely off guard.

Rodrick blinked, his brain short-circuiting for a second. “No! I mean… no, you’re not an idiot.” He ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “The band. The album. It’s… really good. It's my favorite. Wake me up when september ends, you know what they say.”

You let out a quiet laugh and tugged at the hem of your shirt, glancing at the design as if only now remembering what you were wearing. “Yeah…”

Rodrick stood there, scrambling for something else to say, but before he could, you were already saying goodbye.

“Bye, Rodrick.”

He blinked, stunned. You knew his name?

“Bye.” He waved, a little slow on the uptake, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. When it finally hit him, he groaned under his breath. “American Idiot? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Rodrick sighed, pressing his forehead against the wall and rubbing his face. He had never really noticed you before. Okay, maybe he’d seen your cool shirts every now and then. But now he realized just how pretty you were. How much of a total idiot he looked like around you. Love at first sight? He didn’t know. But he did know one thing—he needed to run into you again.

And that’s exactly what started happening—with suspicious frequency.

Rodrick suddenly had a newfound interest in your class schedule. The subject? Who cared? The important thing was that you were there. He started bumping into you in the hallways, always keeping an eye on your shirt, waiting for the perfect opening to start a conversation.

After that first encounter, you became an unlocked character in his universe. Now, he saw you everywhere—and for a brief moment, he wondered if you had been invisible to everyone else, just like he was. A part of him kind of hoped you were. Because, let’s be honest—Rodrick Heffley could be pretty possessive over relationships that only existed in his head.

You wore different outfits in the following days, but he couldn’t shake the image of that Green Day shirt, your earbuds in, and that distant, almost dreamy look in your eyes. That was the moment everything changed. The preppy, pink-clad popular girls lost all appeal.

“This is how I’m gonna talk to her.” Rodrick tossed his drumsticks in the air, determined. He was standing at the college entrance, waiting for you, ready to comment on whatever band shirt you had on today. "I'll ask for her favorite songs and make a playlist so we could hear together when i ask her to be Mrs. Heffley."

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “So your new thing is emo girls with dead fish eyes?”

Rodrick pointed a drumstick like a sword. “Do not disrespect her like that.” He spun it between his fingers before tucking it into his pocket. “She’s not emo. She’s simply a woman of deep, complex emotions, expressed through music—”

“Emo.” Ben chuckled, making Rodrick roll his eyes.

The truth was, Rodrick Heffley was tired of pretending to be an untouchable rockstar. Lately, all he really wanted was a girlfriend to walk around with, be stupidly in love with, and eat ice cream with. But no one seemed interested in him—especially not the popular girls. Over time, they all started feeling boring, shallow. Sure, they were good for ice cream and other… needs. But nothing more than that.

“There she is. Wish me luck.”

Rodrick cracked his knuckles, his heart hammering in his chest. You walked through the college gates the same way you always did—beautifully bored.

Linkin Park.

Rodrick grinned. This was it. Now or never.

The smile he gave was almost worthy of a horror movie villain—so wide and sudden that it startled anyone passing by. Realizing his mistake, Rodrick quickly straightened up, trying to soften his expression into something more charming. As you approached, he took a step forward, purposely blocking your path, a forced smile on his lips.

“Hey.” He crossed his arms in an attempt to look suave, but he made sure to keep his drumsticks strategically visible, as if they were an essential part of his charm.

You pulled out your earbuds and let out a quiet laugh. “Hey. How you doin?”

Rodrick smirked smugly. “Name five songs from that band.” He tilted his head, winking at you with a teasing challenge.

It was supposed to be a brilliant moment. But instead of the countless reactions he had rehearsed in his head, you frowned slightly, glancing around, visibly caught off guard.

His brain crashed.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, that was so dumb.” He waved his hands frantically, running a hand through his messy hair. “Shit, just ignore everything I said and pretend I don’t exist while I jump off that window.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. It was just so out of nowhere.” Taking a deep breath, you listed effortlessly, “What I’ve Done, Crawling, New Divide, Papercut, In the End. God, I love Mike Shinoda’s rap parts.”

Rodrick’s eyes lit up. He barely held back from jumping with excitement.

“You know Mike Shinoda?” His voice came out a little too high-pitched, betraying his enthusiasm. “Dude, I am obsessed with those raps. Like, In the End basically shaped my entire personality!”

You laughed, tucking your earbuds into your bag. “He was the father of edgy teenagers—along with gore animes.”

Rodrick placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. “Exactly! Finally, someone who gets it.”

Your gaze shifted to his shirt, your eyes scanning over the band’s name. “And this band… Loded Diper…”

“It’s mine. It’s… my band.” He admitted, scratching his head a little. “The name sounds so dumb now, but I swear it was badass in high school.”

“I think it’s a requirement for rock bands to have weird names.” You joked, surprising him even more. So you had a sense of humor too?

“Yeah, like Metallica.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s basically the same thing as a rap group calling themselves Raptalia.”

“Or U2. Like… what does that have to do with me?” You laughed, and he did too, his chuckles gradually blending into something softer, more real, as they melted into a lazy smile. 

Rodrick straightened up, puffing out his chest with pride. “But yeah, Loded Diper. No need to look it up to guess who the drummer is.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “That’s actually really cool, Rodrick.” You watched as he slid his drumsticks into his pocket. “You should invite me to a show.”

Rodrick nearly tripped over himself. “Of course I will. You’re basically my VIP fan. Exclusive backstage access. Full access to the drummer, be my guest.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice cracked slightly at the end.

“Are you flirting with me, Rodrick?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. 

He blinked, hesitating. “I don’t know… is it working?” He leaned in slightly, his nervousness slipping into his voice.

“Yes.” You shrugged, amused. “Or maybe I just have a thing for drummers.”

Rodrick froze.

"Uh… well… I guess it's kinda… common." He nodded awkwardly, swallowing hard. "Not that I'm undermining you! Actually, it’s really cool."  

"Maybe I’ll steal your shirt." You smirked, tossing your hair back as you started walking away. "I look good in black."  

Rodrick stood there, stunned, watching you disappear down the hallway. “Oh, dear God. Help me.” He muttered, leaning against the wall for support.  

"So, how'd it go with your Avril Lavigne knockoff?" Ben teased, stepping up beside Rodrick, who now looked like he had actual hearts in his eyes.  

“Damn whoever invented emo girls.” He whined, dramatically gazing up at the sky.

[laceyhearts]

౨ৎ THE HOODIE ; LUKE HUGHES

➪ summary: she'd always thought she wasn't pretty enough for luke, but that all changes with an invitation to the hughes' lake house and luke's hoodie

➪ pairing: luke hughes x fem!mid-size/plus-size!reader

➪ warnings: reader is insecure, uhhh i think that's it? not proofread (what's changed)

➪ word count: 3.6k

➪ emma's notes: the first fic back 😛 PSA: this is not to shame any of my mid-size or plus-size readers, especially because i am one, this is personally just my experience with how i’ve gone through my journey with insecurities and whatnot. be proud of your body, but it’s okay if it gets a little hard at times 🫶🏻 this is one of my favorite fics i've ever written so of course it was the first one i rewrote. speaking of that, i rewrote this fic HEAVILY so if it seems like a totally different fic, it basically is! thank you guys for understanding the blog switch, and i hope to see you all in the future <3

© laceyhearts ; do not copy, repost, translate, or put my work through ai generators. do not copy or remake my themes, graphics, or layouts.

It didn’t matter how many times she walked into a room, how many times she twirled her hair as a distraction, how many times she broke the ice; everyone’s eyes defaulted to the obvious - her stomach, her cheeks, her thighs, her hips. 

It felt like once you looked a certain way, a way that made you conventionally not attractive to the male gaze due to your size, it was the only thing people noticed about you. It didn’t matter if you could make people laugh with the simplest of jokes, didn’t matter if you could copy a landscape perfectly with a set of paint and a canvas, didn’t matter if you could look at a problem and solve it within 10 seconds, it was the fact that you were “curvy”, “on the heavier side”, “full-figured” - or whatever way society wanted to skirt around saying overweight to make it seem like they didn’t want to offend you. 

And maybe it started in high school when she sat down, and the chair creaked, causing everyone to snicker softly. Maybe it started in middle school when she couldn’t run the mile in the “desirable” amount of time. Maybe it started in elementary school when other parents would ask her parents in a worried tone about her physique. 

Or maybe it started in her head.

She couldn’t tell you when the insecurities started, somewhere between losing her child-like innocence that allowed her just to be and health class when they talked about which foods you should be eating and how you should stay within a certain weight limit.

But she could tell you when they lessened, when she stopped obsessing over them the moment she woke up until the moment she went to bed, when she threw on an outfit and went out with her friends without so much as a second thought. 

The whispers of high school hallways when she accidentally brushed up against someone, the whispers in stores when she’d pick out a small bag of cookies because she’d been eating like she was supposed to that week, were left behind once she left for college. 

It was a new start, new people, new experiences that would allow her to feel comfortable in her own body, get away from the negativity that was her hometown, filled with people straight from a teen romance movie. 

It happened fast, meeting Luke, in a way that she could tell you every little detail of the moment. The color of his shirt (dark blue, yellow Michigan written across it), the shoes he was wearing (black gym shoes), how his fingers twitched when his hand brushed hers as he picked up her book from the concrete beneath their feet. 

Unbeknownst to her, he could tell her every detail too, the exact day it happened (September 3, 2021, 6 days before his birthday and 27 days before hers), the pattern on her socks (white with black polka dots because they were the only ones she could find that morning), the book she was reading (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), how she tucked her hair behind her ear.

And ever since then, they’ve been best friends, attached at the hip. She went to his games, he went to bother her during her shift at the dining hall. She went to his place to watch their show, he went to hers to get her help with homework. She made him soup when he was sick, he bought her soup when she was sick. She stayed up late to call him after an away game, he woke up early to send her a “good morning” text before she woke up. 

For a moment, she didn’t think about how she looked, didn’t notice the way people looked at them with a curiosity-filled gaze, didn’t hear the laughs behind her back when she walked by. It was like being with Luke helped her block out all the noise, like she could be herself around him. 

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

She hadn’t expected him to ask her to the lake house, not in the slightest. Her decision was hesitant; she wasn’t sure if she could spend a week or two with Luke, his brothers, and his friends in shorts and tank tops, things that made her uncomfortable even in her own room. Yet, if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could take the wrath of Luke’s constant text messages that would leave her to give in anyway.

So there she stood, in the airport, waiting for any sign of Luke as her thoughts raced. It’d been a while since she’d last seen the boy, almost 6 months since she hugged him goodbye at the Newark airport and left for Michigan for the start of a new semester.

Her leggings hugged her tightly, pressing against her stomach just enough to leave indents of the seams. Her sweater hung loosely on her, a size or two too big to cover the width of her hips, creating the beads of sweat that dripped down her back. 

It didn’t take long for her to find him, towering over almost everyone else surrounding him. He spotted her, too, his lips subconsciously turning upwards into the grin that could make her melt more than the summer sun could. 

Luke’s eyes did a once-over, scanning her from head to toe, eyebrow raising, “Aren’t you hot?”

She hesitated for a second before shaking her head, “No. I run cold.”

“Right… and that’s why I used to have to turn the fan on every time you stayed at mine because you complained you were too hot.”

“Shut up, I was nervous I’d get cold on the plane.”

“Mhm, sure, y/n/n. Sure.”

He grabbed her bag, slinging it over his shoulder and reaching for her hand as if they’d done this multiple times before, like it was natural.

The walk to the car wasn’t long, but with the sun beating down on her, it felt like every step she took lasted 5 minutes. And without even asking, Luke turned the AC on full blast, knowing damn well that if she lasted another minute without cold air on her, she’d pass out.

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

They pulled up to the house not long after, Luke grabbing her bag from the backseat before opening her door, leading her up the steps, and into the lake house, shutting the front door with his foot. He didn’t even blink an eye as he shot his hand out, easily catching the football that was being hurled at the two of them. 

Y/n stood, slightly awestruck and shocked, blinking slowly as she turned to face the culprit who threw the ball, only to find a sheepish-looking boy, no more than 3 years older than her, with slightly shaggy brown hair and a resemblance to her best friend. 

“Heads up?”

“She’s here for two seconds and you’re already trying to kill her.” Quinn walked in only a few steps behind, smacking him upside the head, “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Quinn, that’s Jack.”

“Yeah, I uh- kind of got that. I mean- Luke always says you’re the calm one, so I just assumed- Yeah, I’m not much of a talker…” She trailed off, cheeks heating up from embarrassment instead of the heat for once.

The three boys just smiled at her, trying not to fluster her more than she already was. 

“Trevor and Cole are around here somewhere, but don’t pay too much attention to them, I try not to. I’ll take you to your room and then… I actually don’t know what we’re doing tonight.”

“Boat,” Jack replied simply, grabbing a water from the fridge, all but chugging it, and leaving the half-empty bottle on the counter. 

“That settles it, then.”

Luke led her to her room, placing her bags on top of her bed, “Here you are, m’lady. You can nap, shower, get settled, whatever you want. I’ll come get you when we’re about to go.”

Y/n nodded, slight panic flashing in her eyes as she turned to start unpacking, hoping he didn’t notice her change in demeanor. 

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

It was two hours before she saw anyone again, and in those two hours, all she had done was lay out her outfit choices and try them on over and over again until she determined she didn’t bring any good outfits with her on this trip. 

Finally, a few minutes before she knew Luke would knock on the door, she settled on a pair of light-washed jean shorts that were long enough to pass as “classy” but short enough to draw people’s gaze to her thighs, and her oversized dark blue UMich hockey shirt Luke had gotten for her a while back, the lettering fading due to the number of times she’d put it through the wash.

She’d just begun braiding the right side of her hair, her left already done in a simple 3-strand braid and a few pieces pulled out to frame her face as always, when she heard the knock, Luke opening it after he heard no protest. 

“Hey, you ready to-” He froze, eyes trailing over her frame, unsure where to look.

Y/n flushed, her hands itching to drop the hair they held and wrap her arms around her waist to avoid his gaze. She focused her attention on the task at hand, trying not to glance up at him through the mirror, trying not to envision the disgust written across his face.

“What?”

Her voice snapped him out of his trance, eyes finally finding hers, a small smile spreading across his lips, “You look…”

Her mind instantly spiraled, maybe I shouldn’t have come, maybe I should change into leggings, maybe I should-

“Pretty.”

Huh? She blinked a few times. “What?”

“I said you looked pretty.”

“Oh.” She didn’t say much else, securing her braid with a small hair tie as she reached to grab her bag, no doubt filled with her favorite book and her Kindle, just in case she ended up locking herself in her room the next two weeks.

“You're seriously bringing your Kindle? Aren’t you gonna go in the water?”

She followed him out of her room, closing the door behind her after slipping her gym shoes on. “I hate the water.”

“You hate the water?”

“I- yeah, it’s fine. I’ll just read, you guys can swim, cannonball, whatever you guys do.”

“Y/n/n, we can do something else if you don’t want to go out on the boat. We don’t have to do what they do.” His voice softened, stopping in the hallway, a few feet shy of where everyone was waiting in the living room. 

She couldn’t help but feel butterflies erupt in her stomach; the thought of him changing his plans just because she was uncomfortable with the thought of being around water - even if it was for a different reason than what she said - was enough to have her swooning. It was something small, something that many people wouldn’t bat an eye too, but to her? It meant more than she could explain. 

Her fingers laced with his, gaining courage to brush her lips against his cheek, “I appreciate it, Lukey, but I swear it’s fine. I just don’t want to go in.”

A faint blush covered his face at her action, but he played it off and nodded, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

⎯⎯⎯ ౨ৎ ⎯⎯⎯

Time flew by on the boat, y/n reading her book, eyes occasionally looking up to see one of the boys jump into the lake, or to see them splashing around in the water like immature middle school boys, or just in time to see Luke walk by before plopping down next to her, his arm finding its way to rest behind her.

As the fun increased, the temperature decreased, and the breeze left goosebumps on her arms. She didn’t notice it at first, or tried not to let it show, nose buried in the pages, too interested in the same plot she’d read thousands of times before.

But after a while, a few rays of sunlight were all that was left of the day that passed, the cold finally settling around them, y/n shivering more than she was mere minutes ago. She closed her book, unable to continue to make out the black ink across the pages, opting for her Kindle instead. 

That was all it took for Luke to realize how cold she felt, her hand brushing against the skin of his arm where his sleeves were rolled up, her hand somehow even colder than the wind blowing through the air. He pulled his sweatshirt off with ease, handing it to her without another thought, “Here.”

She looked between his face and the fabric in his hand, weariness settling in her mind as she shook her head, “I’m okay.”

His eyebrows knitted together, head nodding to her arms, “You have goosebumps, I think that qualifies as being ‘not okay’.”

“I like the breeze, it’s nice.”

“Y/n/n, please.”

She relented, setting her Kindle beside her, taking the hoodie into her hands as she looked at its size inconspicuously. She never thought about fitting into other people’s clothes as an option, she knew she wouldn’t, they knew she wouldn’t, so why would she ever think that she would need to? 

Luke was taller than her, as he would like to say “by a mile”, something she was acutely aware of since the moment she met him. Something that she never really thought would be her saving grace until now. Because hopefully, the several inches he had on her was enough to counteract her own body.

She slipped it on, arm after arm, pulling it over her head, baseball cap being pulled into the hood. He watched as she fixed it, tugging on the front of it to create more space between the fabric and her skin. He frowned slightly. “Is it uncomfortable?”

Y/n shook her head, because it wasn’t uncomfortable, she was. It was baggier than she thought it would be, not as much as she would’ve liked it to be, but just enough to become one of her favorite hoodies she’s ever worn, and no, that was not because it was Luke’s.

“You sure? I can always ask Quinn or Jack for theirs-”

“Luke, it’s perfect.”

He just nodded, slightly skeptical at the look on her face and the way she kept tugging lightly on the hoodie like it was suffocating her. She avoided his gaze, trying to memorize the lines on the boat floor through the last bits of light on the horizon. 

“Y/n/n, can you please just tell me what’s wrong? If it’s not the hoodie, then-”

“Fine, it’s the hoodie!” She raised her voice just slightly to get her point across, but not enough to attract the attention of the others.

“Is it the fabric? Is it itchy? Is it-”

“It’s the size, Luke!”

He frowned, still confused, “It looks fine.”

“That’s-” She sighed, playing with the frayed edges on her shorts, “That’s not the point, Luke.”

“Then what is the point, because I’m struggling to see it.”

“I’ve never been the skinniest girl out there, Lu.”

And that got him to pause, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to gather his thoughts, unable to form any coherent ones, because to him? She’s always been the prettiest girl he’s seen. Always been the one who his mind defaulted to when his brothers asked if any girls caught his eye. Always been the one he described when someone asked him who his type was.

“Y/n…”

“It’s okay, Luke. I’m not trying to hide from it or anything.”

“I know you’re not, but you didn’t let me finish.” He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap as if it were a common day occurrence. 

Her eyes widened, her body stiffening as her legs straddled his, trying to shift her weight off of him. But Luke, being Luke, his hands tightened around her hips, anchoring her in place and giving her a smug look, daring to challenge him.

“Let me go.”

“No.” His voice was stern as he spoke. 

“Please, Lu.” 

“I’m not letting you go until you see yourself how I see you. I am not letting you go until those negative thoughts are expelled from that beautiful head of yours.

“Listen, y/n/n. I know it’s hard, believe me, I’ve dealt with my fair share of insecurities myself, and I know it can’t be exactly what you’re going through, but… my point is the same. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met, and I love every single part of you there is to love, okay? I cannot tell you a moment that I have thought you were ugly.”

Her mind barely registered the “I love” portion of his speech, already trying to find a moment to prove him wrong, “What about that time when-”

“Nope, doesn’t exist.”

“Oh! How about when you showed up, announced-”

“No.”

“That time-”

“No.”

“Fine, what about-”

“You can keep trying to grasp at straws there, pretty girl, and my answer is still going to be the same.”

She flushed at the nickname, finally relaxing into his hold, but her thoughts were still stuck on a negative loop, “Why?”

“Why, what, beautiful?”

“Me. Why me?”

“You wanna know my favorite memory of you?” 

She nodded hesitantly, eyes finding his.

He removed one of his arms from her waist, wrapping his fingers around the back of her neck and rubbing his thumb against her cheek before continuing, “Freshman year. First game you ever went to. I had just bought you your first-ever Michigan hockey shirt and used a Sharpie to write my name and my number on the back. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, couldn’t hold a candle to you, but it made sure everyone knew you were there for me.

“You wore it with jeans the same color as these,” he tugged on the belt loop of her shorts with his free hand before flicking the brim of her hat. “This hat, your hair in two pig-tails, and you wore the same beat-up black Converse that you’re wearing right now. 

“And every time I looked up at you, you looked a little tired, probably because you had pulled an all-nighter beforehand, but you stood for the whole game with this little pompom thing in your hand, cheering every time we got a goal and booing every time OSU got one.

“After the game, I met you outside where you proceeded to tackle me in your infamous bear hugs, all because I got a lousy hit on some player. Then, we went out for ice cream, and you got vanilla with sprinkles. We sat on a bench, and I kept eyeing your bowl until you finally gave in and let me try some.

“We went back to your dorm once we were done, and you stole my beanie, which you didn’t give back for another two weeks.”

Her eyes watered at how detailed his memory was, hanging onto his every word like she was a little girl listening to her mom read her the most magical bedtime story about a princess and a prince. 

“You can’t cry on me yet, I haven’t finished.” He wiped a stray tear from her cheek, smiling as she let out a choked laugh filled with emotion.

“You made me watch The Little Mermaid because you like singing 'Part of Your World’ and then you fell asleep for the first time in my arms and I don’t think I’ve ever looked back.”

Her breath hitched because she remembered that, remembered how Luke grinned at her whenever a song came on and she started singing it, whenever she’d quote a line or make a random, out of pocket comment because Ariel said something that made her think of something else, whenever she would explain to him how stupid or thoughtful an action was. She remembered everything about that day, just as well as he did. 

“That wasn’t the first moment I thought you were gorgeous, not even the second or the third or the fourth, but- it’s my favorite one because you looked happy, you looked like you couldn’t care what anyone else thought, and that is infinitely more beautiful than anything else.”

“Luke…”

“Yeah?” He played with the end of one of her braids, twirling the hair around his fingers.

“You really think that?”

“There’s nothing that I think that is truer than that, pretty girl.”

Their eyes met again, and he couldn’t help but lean in, his lips pressing against hers softly. 

The kiss didn’t last long, y/n barely getting a chance to kiss back before splashes of water hit her, both of them jumping in sync to see the three 22-year-olds staring at them with innocent expressions. 

“Whoops.”

“Leave it to them to ruin the moment,” Luke grumbled, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, causing her to laugh and tangle her fingers in his curls.

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; OTHER MASTERLISTS

JOIN THE TAGLIST ; MY NAVIGATION

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

GOOD MORNING??!!?!!!!!!!

Philip,, brrr (ignore the one on the left for the most part lol that was me figuring everything out)

Very heavily inspired by @tanukitsuneko-suki's really cool idol AU (tbh the au is the same, I was just toying with a fit idea),, please check it out 🙏

P I'm ngl I was gonna draw others too but I ended up only doodling Philip for now 😭 !!! I also really love the half and half colored jacket idea you had for Philip and initially thought about making this jacket have cyclone+joker/heat+metal/luna+trigger variations but I ended up making it green 😔 I do want to go back to that idea with a diff jacket maybe,,

Here's this sketch too tbh why not

[hoodedjelly]

ii designs + oj being a little fruity with it

i'm gonna yap below about the designs actually vvvv

springy is just an alien thingy + micky mouse (the smallest inspo from the trix rabbit)

bots design is pretty simple, i kept thinking back to that line "now you're a butterfly!" and im just like, i can't just give them little butterfly designs I NEED THEM TO HAVE A LITTLE SLEEVE/CAPE THINGY SO THEY ARE ONE

for mephone, this is like my 5th redesign of him. to give myself credit, this isn't a redesign from my last one it's just an android version of it, since the last one was fully human. i got VERY inspired by dbh when designing him, his glasses are basically apple glasses glued forever on his head. but he doesn't use it as a screen, it's just where notifications/calls are located at. (when cobs is calling mephone he is literally forced to see his name in his eyes i just think thats evil),where he actually uses his "powers" is like dbh, kinda. the skin on his arm goes white/the original robot form from when he was first made then he just taps it a few times and someone gets revived. i imagine there's colors and the final press is the color of the character he's reviving. 3gs would also just look very dbh damaged robot, white spots of his original robot skin and stuff.

also every phone has some type of glasses eyes , i think mepads would be more rectangle, 3gs would have like goggles. me just trying to keep on this consistent thing i told myself where, if a object has some form of glass on them, then they need some type of glasses. light bulb has sunglasses on her head, oj HAD glasses in s1 then changes to contacts (example below)

uh i got a little side tracked what was i talking about, right mephone4. last thing i want to point out is that they also have a default outfit, like the company uniform. when mephone escapes he just generates a new outfit. i think it would also be cute that mephone generates new clothes for mepad too and left it next to him while he waits for him to wake up <3

[tttabii]

──. 이희승 MY OBSESSION GROWS ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

lee heeseung x female reader

note: reader is chinese but knows korean. barista!reader x idol!heeseung

YOU WERE JUST ANOTHER barista behind the sleek counter of HYBE's in-house café, your soft-tone "欢迎光临"hardly catching anyone's attention in the idol-filled building. Most didn't care enough to listen either.

Your Korean was decent, passable, but had a thick Chinese accent, and many days you would default to silence and let your hands do the talking by serving cappuccinos and americanos to the artists who barely remembered your name.

But Heeseung did.

Every day.

At first, it was just subtle—he would linger a little longer at the counter, pretending to check messages while watching you write on the cups. Then he started seeing things.

The way you tied your hair up when you were too busy, the exact moment of the day you changed the song that was playing on your earbuds, how you always wore muted colors, except for those one black mary janes you wore whenever you could. He had become slowly, but irreversibly obsessed.

It started as simple curiosity. 

Heeseung shouldn't have even been on the subway, but he went undercover as he donned his hoodie and mask before taking the long way home to the subway station to again experience you—hoping you would get on your usual train or his train after work.

He found you waiting at the subway station, looking so immersed in your own world, the music blaring in your earphones.

Guessing he looked like a stranger, he stood beside you and tilted his head down just enough to see one of your earphones hanging ultra-low out of his ear. He tried to figure out what song you were listening to—he was guessing some Chinese pop—which he couldn't understand at all.

But the fact that it was yours? That was enough.

You didn't notice him at all. Didn't really notice him. You'd never look long enough to. That's how invisible you were to him, but he couldn't look away.Only when you almost stepped into traffic—head down, music blaring, unawares—did he broke the dream. He grasped your arm tight and fast, yanking you back onto the curb.

"Hey careful," he said quickly, in english now. Your eyes got all wide, your confusion coming too fast as you looked up at him, eyebrows pinched and lips apart. 

You nodded slowly, a shy, quiet thank you slipping past your lips as you took out your earphones. He smiled behind the mask, heart thudding way too hard, then gestured for you to turn the volume down.

And just like that, you disappeared, back into the crowd.

That night, he downloaded all the language apps he could find. "She's Chinese," he shared with the members in the dorm, staring at the ceiling. "I want to learn... for her."

And that was only the start of his obsession. Your hair had been a warm cherry brown in the spring. A week later, he had rolled up to schedule with a similar hue.

"For the fans," he said to his manager. Right. There was an uncanny resemblance between your casual street-style outfits and his sudden wardrobe changes.

And those playlists he shared on live? They suddenly contained soft, mandarin songs, that he knew his fans wouldn't be able to translate. But he could. Now.

The members picked up on it. Everyone picked up on it. "Bro, are you turning into her?" Jay asked one morning, as they watched you behind the café counter again, headphones on, quietly humming. Heeseung grinned, on you, as you stirred someone's drink.

"No," he whisper. "I just want to be the version of me she would notice." 

"Whatever you say, buddy," Jake snorted, clapping Heeseung on the back as they all watched you from the couch near the café counter.

Heeseung watched as you untied your apron after finishing your shift for the day.

Your shoulders dropped, and you sighed, swiping some hair out of your face. Heeseung was transfixed as his eyes followed the movement, mesmerized by the way your lips moved when you mumbled to yourself.

"Go. Go talk to her. You have been learning Chinese for three months because of her," Sunghoon shoved him hard, and the others followed suit by practically pushing him out of his seat.

He stumbled like an awkward teenager, hands flapping and messing with his fingers and patting down his hoodie.

It was like his body shifted before his brain registered what was happening.You noticed him—how could you not? Heeseung was tall and hard to miss, even when disguised. His face was hidden, but the sharpness of those eyes and softness of his voice?

You recognized them all too well.

"你还好吗?" you asked, head cocked to the side as brows knitted together. And it shattered him.

You remembered him. The guy from the traffic stop.

He froze for a second, then replied, "我没事。你呢?" His pronunciation was careful, tender.

You blinked, surprised. "You speak...?"

 He smiled beneath the mask, nodding once. "Learning. For a while now."

Your eyes sparkled with that undeniable look of impressiveness. You laughed lightly as you reached to take off your hair clip and your now-matching red strands fell over your shoulders.

That moment? That image? Heeseung wanted to freeze it for ever. But, he never said anything more. He never did.

Not the real things, anyways. He couldn't even confess that your playlist had become his, that he started to dress like you, that he had memorized your café schedule before anyone else.

That fans thought his aesthetic shift was a concept-but it was really you. And, you still had no idea. He walked next to you that night, not saying much, allowing you to ramble away in a mix of Korean and English, as you both crossed the dim-lit street. He allowed himself to glance at you as often as he could.

He watched the way your eyes sparkled with the nearby city lights, and how your fingers played with the sleeves of your jacket. His jacket, actually. He draped his jacket over your shoulders the minute he noticed the chill in the air. 

What you didn't know was that someone captured the moment. One blurry picture. Your hair a match to his. His hand lightly resting on your lower back as you leaned forward to see something in a store window.

One blurry video of you two laughing next to a food stall as he handed you a skewer, your red hair catching the light.

The way he looked at you in that one second. That was all it took.

 The internet caught on to it.

"WHO is she???"

"Heeseung's new girlfriend???"

"She looks kind of Korean... kind of not???"

"Matching hair. Matching outfits. Matching vibes."

"She's not on IG or Twitter so she must either be low key or from out of the country."

"I swear I have seen her before from some company background video—wasn't she behind the coffee bar?"

They didn't know your name. They didn't know your socials. You were faceless, unknown—even a little mythical. And Heeseung? He never said a word against it. He let the rumors spread. 

He read every single one. Obsessively. Screenshotting the theories, watching fan edits that people made of blurry you and high-res him.

He liked the idea of you being his mystery. His secret girl. His obsession that no one could touch, no one could reach.

And you? You were just scrolling through a few of the articles with mild confusion.

"I look weird in this photo," you murmured, frowning a little.

Heeseung watched you, lips twitching in amusement, heart thudding so loudly he swore Jake could hear it.

"She has no idea," Sunoo whispered to Jay.

"Nope," Jay grinned. "Not even a clue."

Eventually, you both were almost always together. He'd pop into the café almost every day now—not always ordering coffee, sometimes just sitting there and watching you work behind the counter with his chin in his hand while pretending to scroll through his phone, sneaking glances like he wasn't some whole celebrity sitting in public just to see you.

You were the reason he learned how to say, "How was your day?" in completely perfect Chinese.

And he was the reason your Korean was becoming soft and natural, his corrections keeping you from tripping over your words when engaging with other idol customers requesting simple easy things. Even other idols poked fun at how fluent you were becoming—particularly around Heeseung.

"Thanks to him" you'd laugh innocently. "He corrects me every single time I mess up."

Heeseung would just smile. But on the inside? He was spiraling.

Because it wasn't lessons or shy glances anymore. He needed you like air.

His thoughts? You. His playlists? Your favorite songs. His accessories? Matching yours more often than not. His fans?

Figuring it out, whispering about it, compiling, clipping.

But you? You still didn't see it.

And he liked that.

He liked how untouched you were by fame. How pure you looked laughing at his lame jokes in your little apron.

How you walked beside him in the street, not even noticing the flashes of distant phone cameras or whispers from fans passing by.

Heeseung wanted the world to know, but through his way. Quietly and intimately. Enough to stir rumors. Enough to make people talk. So he did exactly that.

That day, you and him were at the bookstore across from HYBE. You had your arms linked, and he was leading you toward the language aisle. He leaned down, his lips barely grazing your ear, and whispered in Korean—fast and slurred and too fancy for your level.

You stopped and stared up at him. "Huh?"

He smiled. Your cheeks were flushed pink just from the proximity.

You nudged him. "Yah... What did you say?"

He shrugged, amusement threatened to bring a smile to his lips. "Nothing."

"Liar." You crossed your arms, the playful act did little to hide your flustered state.

He simply watched you, head tilted slightly, his eyes dark and affectionate, and something else. Something unhinged.

Because what he whispered was: "If I were the ocean, you'd be the sky. Always above me, always unattainable—but I'd still drown trying to reach you."

A romantic, poetic line in fast Korean that sounded like nonsense to you. You thought he was joking. He was absolutely serious. And later that night? He posted a blurry photo to his own  account.

You walking away, holding two books, your red hair catching the light.  

The caption read, in Korean:"If they only knew how much of you is already mine."

Of course, his fans saw it.His fans always see it.They began sharing it. Making correlations out of your blurry frame and other street photos.

Noticing you wore a necklace that Heeseung had been seen holding in a vlog.

Noticing that his hoodie was seen on you a week earlier, on a café TikTok in the background.

They still didn't know your name. But they were obsessed with learning it. Just like him.

[ohcorny]

giving characters a One Thing (aka, a kink) is a great way to clarify who they are in your mind and recontextualize a lot of their behaviors and desires. it's good if you start with it, but even if you come to it later you'll be like 'oh that explains so much about them'

emery likes the idea of his object of desire (neeta) dressing like a maid. that is his One Thing. he's not attracted to all maids, but he likes the idea of it applied to her. what can we extrapolate from this?

(spoilers for hunger's bite below)

we know that he has no mother. neeta's mother, his nanny, was the closest he had, but she was at the same time a servant. not a maid, but in the same category. he will forever associate the nurturing of a mother with servants as a class. fixation.

and then there's neeta. his friend and playmate. even after they both lost her mother, he still had her. she was the only major female figure in his life from then on. not a servant, but Realistically, she was contributing to taking care of him. she helped to nurture him, and she was her mother's daughter, and associated by default with that woman. fixation.

he grows up surrounded by maids on the lark and probably at home. servant women who, by his connection to the captain, are kind to him (because they must be). maid outfits are iconic, a Symbol of nurturing servant class. i barely need to explain this one. fixation.

so given all that background, it's like. of course that is the fantasy he projects onto his crush. emery wants to be taken care of. his idea of what it means to be taken care of is inherently tied to servant women. thus: neeta in a maid outfit.

none of this was in my head when i initially conceived the panel of him fantasizing about it, it was at the time 'lol of course this is the job a boy would imagine' but working backwards from that, it makes perfect sense with their shared background. it makes sense with how honeycutt was able to manipulate him with her--she's there for your enjoyment, she's there to serve your whims.

if you want to understand your own characters better, give them a kink. it doesn't have to be really out there. it doesn't even have to come up in the actual work itself. but a lot of things can snap right into place when you think about how it would affect the way they see things and what they want from the world.

[lucydixon]

The Rock Show

Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Blog Navigation 𐴱 Series Masterlist A/N: This is part nine of my Welcome to Hellfire Series. Previous Parts: 1 𐴱 2 𐴱 3 𐴱 4 𐴱 5 𐴱 6 𐴱 7 𐴱 8

Summary: Eddie takes you to watch Corroded Coffin play at the hideout for the first time, and having him lock eyes with you while he plays completely ruins you. Warning: a liiitle bit of dry humping, Desperate Eddie, The girls come out to play.

It was finally the night. 

The night you’d anticipated with so much excitement that you were practically bursting with it by the time you were out of bed. 

It was Tuesday. 

Which meant that it was the night that you got to see Eddie play with his band for the first time, at the greasiest dive bar in Hawkins. 

The two of you had woken up, tangled in your sheets somewhere around noon and had lazily made out for a couple of hours, until you realized what day it was and wouldn’t shut up about it. 

He loved how excited you were to watch him play. 

You’d been trying to get him to play you a little something for days, but he kept telling you that he couldn’t spoil the show for you and that you’d just have to wait. 

You’d pouted and whined, and he’d almost caved twice. 

But he’d somehow managed to hold strong. 

“Are you ready to rock, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after convincing you to sit down and eat the gourmet boxed mac and cheese he'd whipped up for dinner. 

“Hell yeah!” You beamed, “What should I wear?” 

“Something that won’t distract me too much.” He nodded pensively, “A shapeless burlap sack, perhaps?” 

You swatted his arm playfully and rolled your eyes before starting to rummage through your closet. 

Your eyes landed on dark faux leather and lit up. 

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to wear this but never found the right occasion!” You gasped excitedly, reaching for a pair of jeans to go along with it.

Eddie stared at your closet doors, waiting for you to finish getting dressed after insisting on your outfit being a surprise.

Now, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Maybe a cute little dress or a frilly skirt. Something sweet and cute. 

His eyes just about bulged out of his head when you stepped out of your closet wearing skin-tight black jeans and a cropped leather tube top. 

His eyes raked over your body, transfixed by all the bare skin and soft curves.

The stretch of skin between the bottom of your top and the top of your jeans was taunting him. 

God, what he wouldn’t give to like a stripe up your bellybutton. 

Eddie slid right off the bed and onto the floor like he was made of jelly, eyes wide and mouth agape.

You had to laugh at the theatrics. 

He crawled a few feet towards you and wrapped himself around your lower half, resting his cheek against your stomach. 

“You’re gonna kill me, you little vixen!” he groaned. “Fuck, how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like that?” 

“I’ll forget how to play!” he gasped dramatically, slumping into you, “If we can even get there in one piece. I won’t be able to keep my eyes on the road!”  

“Do me a favour and try not to kill us until after I’ve seen you play.” You chuckled, and he felt the rumble of it against his cheek. 

Your hands threaded through his hair and played with it absently. A habit you hadn’t yet noticed you’d taken up. 

But Eddie certainly had. 

The feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp practically had his eyes rolling back inside his head every time. Still, he felt weird asking you to do it, so he was thrilled that you seemed to default to it whenever the two of you were relaxing.  

He pressed his lips to your skin and smirked softly when he heard the distinct sound of your breath hitching in your throat. 

“It should be illegal to look this good in jeans.” Eddie sat back on his heels and drank you in from below. “I’m might have to haul your ass to jail”  

“If you want to cuff me, you could just ask.” You smirked teasingly when his cheeks immediately warmed. 

Sometimes, he couldn’t believe that you were the same girl who hid your face in his chest while telling him you’d never made out with anyone, just days ago. Yet, here you were, making dirty comments without so much as a flinch. 

You really didn’t shy away from intimacy in the slightest. If anything, it was you initiating most of it, and it was killing him. 

He buried his face in your stomach again and groaned loudly.

It took him a good few minutes to peel himself off of you to get out the door.

As soon as you got to the Hideout, Eddie parked you in what he called, the best seat in the house, which was really just a booth close to the stage with worn leather seats and just enough room for his guitar case to sit next to you so that no drunken creeps could slide in and hit on his girl while he was busy on stage. 

He pecked you on the lips, glanced down at your cleavage for a moment, and shot you a goofy smile before rushing over to the rest of the band, who looked beyond shocked to see you sitting there. 

“You got her to go out with you?” Gareth asked, blatantly staring at you with wide eyes. “Holy shit, no way.” 

“I didn’t just get her to go out with me.” Eddie shot his friends a cocky smirk as he shrugged his guitar strap over his head. 

“That pretty little thing right there?” He nodded in your direction, smugly, “That is my girlfriend, with a capital G.”

“No…” Jeff sounded like he couldn’t decide if he believed him or not, also staring. 

You waved at them, and they were quick to look away with pink cheeks. 

“Seriously?” 

Eddie just shrugged, still looking on top of the world. 

“I know, right?” 

“We are Corroded Coffin!” Eddie shouted into the mic with far too much energy for the sleepy crowd, but you cheered loudly anyway from your seat, looking ecstatic. “And we’re here to make some noise!” 

You knew they’d be good. 

Even if they weren’t, you’d be able to convince yourself that they were, just because Eddie’s eyes were locked on yours through every Metallica and Dio cover song they played on stage. 

But, they were better than good. 

They were fucking great.

Even without the roar of a crowd, the music still felt electric.

Your panties were soaked before they’d wrapped up the first song. 

Seeing Eddie up there, banging his head to the music and shredding that beautiful guitar of his with an obscene amount of skill, was ruining you. 

He looked like a total rockstar. 

And god, you loved it. 

“This last song is for someone special in the crowd tonight.” Eddie stared right at you, but chuckled when you looked around as if he could have meant anyone but you, and pointed to yourself with a playful grin. “This one’s for my sweetheart.” 

The opening notes for Sabbrah Cadara rang through the air, and you just melted.

The way he held your gaze while he sang into the mic was mesmerizing. 

It felt like it was just the two of you in the room. 

Feel so good I feel so fine

Love that little lady always on my mind

She gives me lovin' every night and day

Never gonna leave her

Never going away

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you thought for a half second that you were going to pass out. Even if it was just a song. A cover. Hearing him sing about love made your heart flutter in your chest. 

Someone to love me

You know she makes me feel alright

Someone who needs me

Love me every single night

Feel so happy since I met that girl

When we're making love

It's something out of this world

Feels so good to know that she's all mine

Going to love that woman till the end of time

You were so gonna jump his bones after this. 

You’d thought that dry humping in your living room had been hot, but you’d never in your life wanted anything as bad as you wanted to be in Eddie’s bed, as close as two people could physically get while your clothes lived happilly on his bedroom floor. 

Someone to live for

Love me till the end of time

Makes me feel happy

Good to know that she's all mine

And you were.

Eddie had you. Hook, line, and sinker. 

You were so far gone for Eddie Munson that you’d run away with him in a heartbeat and get married in a Vegas chapel that instant if he asked you to. 

You’d do anything if he asked you to. 

Lovely lady make love all night long

Lovely lady never do me no wrong

I don't wanna leave ya

I never wanna leave ya

Anymore no more

You were already questioning whether or not you could make it all the way home without tearing your clothes off. 

Probably not. 

You wondered if he’d fuck you in the back of his van, right out in front of the bar, if you asked him nicely.  

Lovely lady

Mystifying eyes

Lovely lady

She don't tell me no lies

I know I'll never leave ya

I'm never gonna leave ya

Anymore no more

And there it was. 

The closing note and the glimmer in his eyes as he breathed heavily, beaming at you from the stage, sealed the deal. 

You weren’t just dying to fuck him. 

You were in love. 

Completely and utterly down bad and smitten for the man theatrically bowing as if it wasn’t just you cheering up a storm from your lonely booth. 

And god damn, it terrified you. But, at the same time, you’d never felt such an unbridled rush of joy and peace wash over you. 

The second he stepped off the stage, you threw yourself at him, rambling excited praise in his ear as he scooped you up and spun you around, laughing. 

“Holy shit, Eds.” You squeezed him tightly “That was so fucking good!” 

“Don’t sound so surprised, Sweetheart.” He teased. 

“I’m not!” You swatted his chest playfully and pulled back to look into his eyes. 

Something in the air shifted when he clocked the hunger in your gaze. 

“Do you even know how fucking hot that was?” You asked him lowly, “Killin’ me here, baby.” 

“That’s my line,” he joked breathily, eyes darting down to your lips. “You mean that?” 

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh before crashing your lips to his. 

There was nothing slow or sweet about the way you were kissing him. 

No build-up or easing into things, just you, slipping your tongue into his mouth while he clutched you to his chest, pressing his quickly hardening bulge into your hip. 

Your tongues tangled as his hands cupped your ass and pulled you flush up against him. 

You moaned into his mouth, and Eddie thought he might just cum then and there. 

“Uh, guys?” Jeff's voice caught both of your attention, and you pulled apart begrudgingly to look at him. 

“What?” Eddie hissed, hands still resting on your ass, twitching to grab and squeeze at it. 

“Maybe get a room?” Gareth proposed awkwardly. 

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you were too wound up to be more than the tiniest bit embarrassed. 

“That’s an excellent idea, Gareth the great.” You told him, nodding seriously before tugging on Eddie’s jacket and nodding not so discreetly towards the door. 

He wasted no time rushing to pack up his guitar, still as careful as always with her. 

“Great show, you guys.” You smiled warmly as if you hadn’t just had their frontman’s tongue down your throat. “Really nice to see you again.” 

Eddie circled back around and grabbed you by the hand, dragging you towards the door, speed walking. 

He didn’t say a word. 

Just opened the back doors, gently slid his guitar case into the back of the van, and shut the doors before slamming you up against them, swallowing your startled gasp. 

Your hands found their way to his hair and tugged gently at the roots. Despite the adrenaline rushing through him after being on stage and the confidence boost he’d gotten when you’d thrown yourself at him immediately after he’d stepped off of it, Eddie still let out a broken, pathetic moan at the feeling. 

He was grateful you didn’t stop kissing him to make fun, because he wasn’t sure he’d survive a full minute without your lips slotted against his. 

Instead, you pulled him closer and arched your back against the rusted metal of his van, pressing your chest into his and moaning right into his mouth, chasing it with your tongue, swiping along his bottom lip. 

God, you were so fucking good at kissing. 

It was killing him. 

He was so hard that it hurt, straining against his tight jeans and desperate for relief. 

Without having to think, he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and hoisted you into his arms, pinning you against the van without breaking the kiss. 

Your legs wrapped around his hips tightly, and you both gasped at the feeling of his bulge grinding into your clothed heat. 

Your head tilted back and his mouth latched onto your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck until he reached that sweet spot at the juncture of your throat and the edge of your collarbone. 

You jolted and moaned loudly. 

Far too loud for a bar parking lot. 

Both of you seemed to realize this at the same time. 

“We should- shit-” He hissed when you tightened your legs around him. 

“Get in the back of the van?” You proposed breathily, “Great idea, babe!” 

“Not here.” He groaned, trying to think. “Uh-” 

It was hard with you pressed up against him the way you were. 

“Eddie,” you whined, desperate for friction “If you’re not gonna throw me in there and tear my clothes off, then you better take me back to your place real fucking quick or I’m gonna die.” 

“Fuuuuck-” he breathed shakily, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to regain his composure, but he quickly realized that he couldn’t do that unless he put you down. 

He dropped you as carefully as he could and kissed you hard before pulling back, grabbing your hand, and dragging you towards the passenger side of the van. Despite his flustered state, he still held your door open for you and helped you into the seat, groaning when you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss before he shut you inside. 

He jogged over to his side and threw himself into the seat, turning the engine over before he’d even gotten the door closed, breathing raggedly. 

“I’m gonna need you to stay right there so I don’t kill us both in a fiery car crash.” he turned to jab a shaky, but stern finger at you as he slammed the van into gear and sped onto the main road “I’m not dying before I see your tits, so help me god.” 

“What, these?” You asked, anything but innocent, as you rolled your top down. 

The van screeched to a stop just outside the edge of town, and Eddie’s head whipped over so fast to look that his neck ached for a second. 

The second he laid eyes on your bare chest, he slammed the van into park and was scrambling to get his seatbelt off to slide into the middle of the bench seat. 

“Get over here,” he all but growled, undoing your seatbelt and pulling you into his lap. 

You straddled him, and before you could even let out a flustered giggle, his mouth was on you, and it came out as a low moan. 

Your tits were right in his face and Eddie was taking full advantage. 

He cupped one in his hand, too worked up to be hesitant about it, while his lips trailed down your chest until your nipple was in his mouth and you were rocking your hips into his desperately. 

All that could be heard over the rumble of the idling engine was the breathy moans falling from your lips and the sounds of Eddie sloppily making out with your chest. 

Just as you were really starting to get worked up, he yanked your top back up and gently tossed you back into your seat. His hands fumbled with your seatbelt for a moment before dragging him back towards the steering wheel, where he rested his forehead for a moment, trying to catch his breath. 

“Sweetheart, I’m really gonna need you to behave for me.” he told you, trying to sound stern, but really it came out as more of a plea. “Five minutes. Just give me five minutes to get us home. Please.” 

You nodded, unsure if you could even form words. Your eyes were still a little wide from the thrill of it all. 

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief, taking another second before shrugging off his jacket and throwing it at you. “You’re gonna need to hide the girls or I’m gonna go crazy.” 

You laughed breathily and wrapped it around you while he shifted back into gear and tore down the road.

Part 10

Dividers by @saradika-graphics MDNI Banner by @cafekitsune GIF by @nicostiel Tag list: @walleloveseve @farrowroyale @givemiacookie @jeangeniex @cheesesandwichsanto @klutzylaena @mdurdenpitt @3sriracha @shokihomin @awkward00noodle @underatedgentlemencollector-blog @gxpsywitch19 @lexr86 @tanyaherondale @g3n3zshack @jjmaybankswifes-blog @be-gentle-with-my-potatos

[risestarkiss]

Rise Ramblings #789

While researching for a certain project, I realized something interesting about our boy Mikey.

In TMNT lore, clothing is worn for the purpose of “fitting in.” Yet in Rise, gone are the days of wearing “disguises” to pass as humans (whereas some iterations went as far as wearing human head masks.)

I think the closest we get to a “disguise for the purpose of fitting in” is when, for some inexplicable reason, they decide to wear their wrestling costumes while running a mundane errand.

Yet normally, and when sane, the Rise boys wear clothes based on the occasion, just like everyone else.

However, when I started to look at the clothing choices of a certain boy in orange, something stuck out to me.

Other than the winter gear which serves a purpose, and the basic default hoodie for most outside shenanigans, Mikey’s clothing choices are…unique compared to his brothers.

Let’s take his choice of swimwear, for instance.

While his brothers go for more traditional beach attire, what is Mikey wearing?

He’s wearing a one-piece bathing suit from the 1920’s. 😂

Of which, nowadays, is sold as a costume.

Likewise, when the boys need to infiltrate April’s school, Raph and Leo dress accordingly.

But what does Mikey wear?

Now I could be wrong, but I believe that Mikey’s fit is a reference to the movie, “Redline,” complete with an outrageous pompadour.

There are not many other instances of Mikey wearing clothes, but here are a few honorable mentions:

The most clothes Mikey does wear is obviously in “Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle.” Yet, his reception to the situation is different than that of his brothers.

My final thoughts:

This is the most normal outfit that Mikey owns.

It’s a simple sweater, pair of jeans, and glasses. This is a fit that anyone else would wear while out and about.

But for him to wear this particular look, a certain stipulation must be met.

He has to be “Doctor Feelings.”

Given all of the evidence, I’ve come to a conclusion.

I believe that Mikey doesn’t see clothes as a way to be himself. Michelangelo, instead, sees clothes as simply…Cosplay.

[seyvia]

✦•···• 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩 •···•✦

I admit, I was a little intimidated about tackling this project, but once I got to know their characters better, I felt more confident that I could make an adequate maxis match version. And honestly, I totally get it now! I want to marry them too!♡ Thank you for all the requests, and I hope yuh enjoy em!

✦•···• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 •···•✦

Please do!

Credit me. I worked hard on these sims. ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) Tag me if you use them for something! Change them into your sim style! / give them makeovers!

Please do not!

Please don't claim as your own creations. Don't reupload them somewhere else. Especially dangerous sites where you make money off of my free downloads.

NOTES

Playtested March 2025!

Not all packs are required for downloading! Simply substitute any missing components on the sim.

All cc included! Even my defaults. If you happen to have any conflicting defaults that you prefer, simply locate the defaults file and delete them.

on the gallery too, but that doesn't include cc, so they will look different if you don't have their cc in your mods folder.

This is not 100% my usual sim style, mine is a bit more cartoony. I made Xavier first for a singular sim req and they asked for him to have a more "realistic" style, so I just continued that for the rest of them.

lots of credit to all the amazing cc creators!💖

✦•·························• ♥ •························•✦

𝙼𝙲: a base sim for you to edit however you please. She only has one outfit, the rest are blank.

"I don't remember you."

You are the subject of all their desires, but stronger then you appear. Can you trust the ones around you? ...What if you don't want to be the princess of this fairy tale?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

»»--------- ♥----------►

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛: a tiny refresh from my previous download of him.

"My light only shines over you."

An elite hunter who disappears into thin air. Who is he...?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

✦•··········✦•⋆༺𓆩⸸𓆪༻⋆•✦·········•✦

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎: I made him the only spellcaster even though they all use a type of "magic", his position with his evol "magic" stood out more in his story from what I noticed. You can change this to your liking of course. I had to retake his photos because I found better scars when I was almost done. And if your wondering about those, they were caused by his powers... they hurt him.

"I've lived in a never ending winter long enough. If you come closer, then..."

The quiet boy from my childhood became my primary care physician more than a decade later.

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

⋆꙳❅°⋆❆･*❆ ₊⋆❆˚｡₊⊹❅⋆

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕: If you hadn't noticed I opted for dressing them in more casual outfits. Since maxis match cc for men is still lack luster when it comes to clothing. I really wish there were corset trousers like Raf's! :( BTW! Don't cha think his tail is spot on?!

"Life is precious, you know. Paint your story with your own colors."

A famous and aloof artist. He invited me to be his bodyguard. It's a good opportunity to investigate what he actually intends to do!

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜: ......( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,).... I've been sitting here for 10 minuets now trying to remember what I originally was gonna say, but my head went blank... I blame him.

"Don't you see? this is what your heart truly desires."

The leader of Onychinus. He's the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. He said we were the "same" and knows me... What's going on here?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.♫

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋: ... I think I need to continue to study him at a safe distance for now.

 “I promise you’ll see me everyday when you wake up. ”

My childhood friend. Grandma took us in when we were young. Now he works as a fighter pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

✦•·························• ♥ •························•✦

I'm so Tsundere! you have no idea what this has put me though!

Live footage of me at the beginning of this⬇️😭

... How it's going⬇️🤣

[nerdgirlbutinpink]

here it is… >_< also this is heavily inspired by a few mark x bimbo!reader posts i’ve seen around, i do not take credit for this idea at all!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | 𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗸!𝗺𝗼𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗸!𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗯𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mohawk mark …. LOLLL, just two lil teens flirting

𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲𝘀!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

mark grayson was a walking contradiction. tall, dark, and brooding—his mohawk standing sharp like a battle cry, always clad in ripped band tees and a jacket covered in pins from bands no one else at school had even heard of. he smelled like leather and cheap cologne, always showing up late, always looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

and then there was you.

all pastel pinks and soft fabrics, a constant swirl of sweet strawberry pound cake perfume and glossed lips. your outfits always matched, down to the cute little pink bows in your hair. you left a trail of glitter wherever you went—literally. but somehow, against all logic, you and mark had ended up tangled together in something neither of you really understood.

“you don’t actually like this kinda music,” he muttered, arms crossed as he leaned against the brick wall outside the dingy loud venue.

you stood next to him, bouncing on the balls of your feet, entirely out of place in your pink mini dress and knee-high socks among the sea of ripped fishnets and combat boots. but you didn’t care. you were here for one reason.

“i like you,” you said simply, grinning. “and you like this music. so, by default, i like this music too.”

mark rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “that’s not how it works, princess.”

you stepped closer, tilting your head up at him. “it is in my world.”

he huffed, looking away like you didn’t just make his chest tighten. “you’re too cute for this place.”

“and yet, i’m still here,” you teased, looping your arm through his. “guess you’ll have to keep me safe, big strong boy.”

mark scoffed, but he didn’t pull away. instead, his fingers curled ever so slightly around your hand, like he was holding onto something fragile. he knew he looked ridiculous next to you—like a smudge of black ink on a pink lace dress. but when you turned to him, eyes shining under the dim streetlight, he knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“you’re lucky i like you, princess,” he murmured, letting you tug him inside.

and yeah, maybe that was the real contradiction—because mark grayson was supposed to be untouchable, hard-edged and cold. but when it came to you? he was anything but that.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

a/n: i noticed i posted this way too fast for my own sanity, didn’t even let my idea marinate but as always enjoy!

[melondecarabia]

⋆˙⟡ frostheim nsfw headcanons 

mdni! 

fem reader 

authors note: i must admit i like kaito. i love pathetic men!!!! also i was drained of my creative juices after leo trilogy pt 2 so i disappeared for a bit sorry lmao

tw: sex! 

smut under the cut! 

jin 

going against the grain here, but for a good reason: JIN IS A VIRGIN!!! he's a hermit, and has severe trust issues! you will be the first one to even see him naked! 

oh he's a power bottom. he gets the hang of things pretty quickly, and starts to command you to give him pleasure. don't worry, it'll feel good for you too. 

i KNOW he gets bored in that room. wait a minute is he a gooner?? pretty much all he does is sleep, smoke, and jack off. now that you're in the picture though, he can just send a text or 'special photo' for you to come over. 

depression lowered his sex drive, but when it starts to get better he's hornier than ever, and WILL make it your problem. however, due to his smoking habits and inexperience in sex, he has only a bit of stamina. 

going with my own delusions: his dick is below average length and size. smallest of the ghouls! also, he doesn't trim much, but there's no need for that anyway, as the hair is short and soft by default. jin with a happy trail… it looks like snow. he's so pale, but the tip of his dick is bright pink. 

if you have a rough day he'll let you tie a bow on it <3 and then tells you to ride it until you're both satisfied. 

doesn't tell you, but he has a praise kink. doesn't even hint at it, but the first time you give him a handjob and call him pretty, he immediately nuts. he wants you to do it from your own volition. 

doesn't own that many sex toys, but his favorite one is a vibrating cock ring. it has a part that goes on your clit too, and jin's idea of a lovely afternoon is the two of you naked, while you cockwarm him in bed. he relaxes in the intimacy of being entangled and a low buzzing to melt all worries away. 

gets insecure a lot. so, here's an idea: sitting side by side on his bed, with a full length mirror in front. he's fully naked, and you're half clothed while giving him a handjob. just as he's about to cum for the first time, you stop, and tell him to name something good about himself. he's frustrated, but knows you won't continue if he doesn't do it. so, he calls himself smart. you tell him that he's very intelligent, and he cums after 3 strokes. repeating the process until he's fucked stupid… he could've told you to stop, but the feeling of pleasure and validation was too good to give up. 

buys you lingerie and asks for a fashion show. he really likes lacy balconette bras and garter belts. also maid outfits. gives you hickies on your breasts and thighs. 

jin is pretty quiet, but grunts and groans when he's close. he bites his lip to stay quiet, and though he's so pale, while turned on there's a shade of pink dusting his lips, cheeks, nipples and dick. like an angel <3 

aftercare? taking a nice bath while cuddling, and then going to sleep. keeps something to eat and drink around his room. while you recharge, he's laying his head on your titty. 

tohma 

he's quite experienced. before transfering to frostheim, he'd hook up every weekend, sometimes even four times a week. after the transfer? his horniness has built up, day by day. you're about to see what that means as his partner :) 

menace!! a dominant top i think. he acts so dignified in public, and you may think he's into bdsm or something. but that vagastrom dog has stayed in him! after babysitting jin and dealing with whatever upper crust bullshit the general students of frostheim came up with, he's out of patience for elaborate setups. if he wants to restrain you, he'll use his hands. maybe a tie, if he's feeling fancy. 

secret exhibitionist. might test cameras that only he has access to by asking you to hold his monocle, lifting up your skirt and eating you out sloppily in a supposed blind spot. and if you're already here, might as well test all of them, right? :) 

not jealous, but possessive. leaves hickies on your inner thighs, and one on the back of your neck, in a spot barely covered by the uniform collar. also encourages you to mark him up, as his body is covered up at all times. scratch his back! leave hickies all over his chest and hips! might lift your skirt under the table to trace his hand on the bruises he left, while wearing a satisfied look. 

favorite positions include doggy style, mating press and just. lifting you up while standing, and using his strength to bounce you up and down on his dick. positions that let him manhandle you, basically. 

his dick is huge, and that's why he's so smug. keeps the hair trimmed, just normal stuff. but the dick is just. a murder weapon. only one that could compete is zenji and he's dead. there's a thick vein on the underside, that feels just right. 

i remember a line of text from the game itself calling his fingers long and you know where my mind immediately went. to prepare you for his backbreaking railing, he takes his time to finger you. and yes, you get prepared! but tohma decided he really likes seeing you lose it with just his fingers. and he keeps going, not even unzipping his pants. has the audacity to act surprised when you're overstimulated when he decides to give you a break. 

into dacryphilia. not when you're sad or angry, but overwhelmed with pleasure. licks the tears from your face while he keeps ramming into you. 

appreciates a good pair of leggings on you… might smack your ass if there's no one around, and squeezes one cheek like a stress ball. 

cuddles after sex, before carrying you to shower. might result in more freak nasty, if you're still capable of walking though. 

luca 

maybe has had sex a few times before? maybe. takes good care to listen to what you like in order to learn more! he's pretty vanilla himself, but open to anything you suggest. 

switch vers luca! he adapts easily, and wants to take care of you. if you ride him, he'll help you move by keeping his hands on your hips, and thrusting upwards if needed. 

luca has a strict training regimen. he never does too little or too much. but sometimes, he has so much energy that a regular workout just isn't enough, and he gets restless. so, he shyly asks you to… 'workout' with him, as it'll help him sleep better. 

gets incredibly embarrassed if you give him a blowjob. might pass out if you show his cum on your tongue, and then swallow. he's a proper boy, and isn't prepared for such things… 

he eats very healthily, so his cum tastes good! gets flustered if you tell him that. 

if luca is somehow a bit too tired for sex, he'll gladly get you to ride his thigh. his legs are firm and muscular, ideal for the job. seeing you soak his pants might energize him though, and he'll go for a round or two. 

he has a pretty dick. smooth, a bit longer than average, with neatly trimmed hair, and just overall aesthetically pleasing. leaks precum like a broken faucet tho. 

gets turned on very easily. you don't even have to do anything suggestive, the man is just full of love, and just seeing you smile has him bricked! 

likes positions that demand strength from himself. it assures him he's strong, so he can protect you. when either one of you is needy, he finds a private place and lifts you up against a wall, and just goes at it while burying his face in your boobs. 

a soft moaner, and constant talker. keeps telling you how good it feels to have your walls clamp down on him. also keeps constantly telling you how much he loves you. 

i don't think he realizes it, but something about cumming inside you scratches a certain itch. he's dating for marriage, and a family. gets horny thinking about your future wedding, and the night that follows… 

aftercare? he's drawing a bath, and massaging any sore spots you have. also, hydration drinks in your favorite flavor! 

kaito 

HES BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS!!!! he's a virgin, and after having his first time with you, he is thanking whatever deity is out there that made this possible. 

submissive vers. whatever you want he wants! would like to be 'strong and manly', but pampering him will have that man in a daze, drooling for more. 

absolutely gets bricked even looking at you. he's in love!!! he finally has a girlfriend!!! 

as much as kaito fantasized about getting a blowjob, he finds it more pleasurable to give you oral. sure, he'll accept if you offer, but he's very eager to get between your legs. wants you to sit on his face and crush him! he would wear a neck brace with pride. 

horny at all times! perhaps not actively, but always ready to go at the slightest indication. gets so excited if you pull him to an empty room, and tell him to lay down so you can ride his face. nuts immediately if you call him your good boy. 

absolutely motivated by jealousy. he's extrememly insecure, and scared that you'll find someone 'better'. 

oh… to have soft sex, while telling him you'll never leave… kaito laying his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. chipping away at his insecurities, bit by bit. it's a slow process, but worth it to see him build confidence, and stand proudly at your side. 

bites his lip to keep in his sounds. he wants to hear your wails of pleasure!! if you do manage to catch him off guard (not that difficult), he'll let out a pornographic moan. 

after a round, he seems drained of all energy. but, after only a few minutes he's ready to go again!! keeps going for hours, until you're satisfied. 

his dick is just. average. not longer, not shorter, just average. kind of insecure about that too. he keeps himself hairless at all times. kaito was used to seeing hairless women in porn as well, but even one glance at a natural bush on you? he's ready to traverse the great wilderness, or whatever cringy line he comes up with at the moment. 

he has scented candles ready for whenever you come over. he's dedicated to make any and all sexual encounters romantic. 

loves boobs. and legs. and ass. every body part on you, actually, and if asked about his favorite, he could not choose and would cry. 

aftercare? freshening up, eating snacks, and watching a cute romcom while spooning. kaito feels at peace, and falls asleep pretty soon. 

[aventoru]

morning routine

warning(s) : doesn't make sense bc it's not supposed to, a parody of ashton hall, crack+fluff

a/n : those crazy morning routines have taken over my fyp and i was reminded of kaiser's morning affirmations 😭

4:05 am

kaiser wakes up to the worst alarm known to man — the DEFAULT one. you’re quick to take the pillow from underneath you and smack him in the face. he smacks you back and it turns into a pillow fight. once that settles down, kaiser gets up from his luxury bed with silk sheets worth thousands of dollars and uses a remote to open the blinds. too much sunlight pours in and he’s nearly blinded by it (everybody in the comments knows this was filmed at 11am).

4:36 am

kaiser stands in front of a bowl filled with ice and pours water into it, then he proceeds to dunk his head in. you are seen walking past him in the background and fully push his head in. the football player panics and quickly lifts his head, turning around to glare at you. you cackle hysterically at his appearance. his frown deepens at that. “you look like a wet cat,” you say in between laughter. the comments agree with you.

5:17 am

kaiser arranges, then rearranges the stuffed animals on his bed (courtesy of you). he then repeatedly punches a plushie of oikawa tooru, your favorite character from the anime haikyu. you’ve shown him the video of the oikawa plushie abuse, so of course he knows what he’s doing. kaiser thinks if he’s already hopping on one trend, he might as well do all of them.

5:49 am

kaiser reads his daily affirmations out loud. he’s standing in front of the mirror, and the only thing he’s wearing is the hello kitty pajama pants hanging low on his waist. “nothing is impossible. you’re god’s chosen emperor. you’re better than isagi yoichi,” he repeats. you walk past, chiming in, “and you also bagged a hottie like (name)” before slapping his butt. he yelps as his concentration breaks and returns the gesture.

6:23 am

you and kaiser throw a party in the living room to “wake yourselves up”. the blinds are closed shut with the only source of light being the disco ball spinning above your heads. you’re still in your pajamas wearing sunglasses with microphones in your hands. 2014-2016 USUK pop songs are blasted through the speakers and you two sing along passionately. you’re surprised the neighbors haven’t filed a noise complaint.

6:54 am

kaiser gets ready for his job, you get ready for yours. he has the worst bedhead with that haircut, so you always help him in that aspect. on the other hand, he helps you choose an outfit. “you look good, babe,” he smirks as you two do an outfit check in front of the camera. “i know i do,” you respond cheekily. as a finishing touch, kaiser sprays on his godawful, headache-inducing cologne. you regret standing so close to your lover.

7:02 am

after you’re both looking prim and proper, you stand at the front door to put on your shoes. kaiser ties the laces on his cleats and before you could pick out your own pair of shoes, he beats you two it. he bends down and inserts each shoe onto your leg, fingers gently grazing your ankles. you blush at his gentle gesture and kaiser stands up. you two walk out the door together hand-in-hand.

7:03 am

you two walk straight back in and take your shoes off. it’s a day off, which is why you both have time to film this in the first place. you both get unready, and kaiser dunks his face in a bowl of ice again. this time, he forces you to do it with him.

7:33 am

kaiser teaches you how to play football in his massive backyard. there’s a mini goal set up as he teaches you to shoot. now, he’s standing opposite of you, acting as the goalie as you take your best shot. you kick the ball in decent form, just like how he taught you. the ball stays in the air for 4 minutes—

7:37 am

—then it lands on his face. you gasp as kaiser falls down, quickly rushing to his side. the damage is minimal that won’t stop him from using this to his advantage. he whines and rolls around on the grass, reaching a hand out for you two pull him up and when you grab it, he pulls you down with him. “you’re so childish, micha!” you smack him on the chest. he just smirks in return. you’re both dirty and sweaty now, but at least he’s gotten his revenge.

8:00 am

after cleaning up, you take kaiser to a flying yoga class. at some point he gets tangled in the fabric, dangling in mid-air. you nearly die of laughter as you take the opportunity to spin him around like a helicopter. he dies a little on the inside and you feel a sense of victory over the famous athlete.

8:41 am

kaiser makes you breakfast, which you enjoy together. with his athlete diet though, the foods he can consume are limited. so, after the healthy breakfast, you decide to treat yourself to dessert (aka more sugar than kaiser’s allowed in a lifetime). kaiser gives you a look of concern which soon morphs into one of affection.

you both are a little chaotic, but that makes you perfect for each other.

comment section

h1or1 : most sane morning routine 😭

bachira.m : @/isagiyoichi can’t catch a break

iluvkaiser: oikawa is anywhere but nationals

⤷ (name) : @/iluvkaiser HELP 💔

saeitoshiseyelash : (name) is a hottie

⤷ (name) : @/saeitoshiseyelash shidou i know it’s you

⤷ michaelkaiser : @/saeitoshiseyelash leave.

nikooo : 4 minutes in the air is crazy work 💀

[lulualuana]

Cry For Me

woke up from my second nap and this shit formed so eliquently in my mind, yet my valentine's special is just staring at me unfinished oops

wc: 873

cw: rough, somehow feels more crude than anything else i've written idk why, p in v sex, mating press (fav position sue me), mentions of creampies, overstimulation, mild (not so mild) dumbification, crying kink bc mmm yeah, i think that's everything of note..

enjoy?

It didn't hurt. That's what kept running through your head despite the tears running down your face. You weren't in pain, you just felt too good and your default reaction is to practically sob your eyes out over it. You'd always been a bit of a crybaby. Leon liked it. Loved it, actually.

The way you'd cry when overwhelmed and overstimulated. The way you would push at his head and damn near claw at his scalp when he ate you out, trying to pull free before you burst into tears. The way you would hiccup and tense up trying to bite back the tears when he fucked you into the mattress, only to end up with the sheets covered in tears and come anyway.

It was fucking delicious. It’s what he aimed for honestly. He’d never admitted it up until now, but he loved watching you cry. It gave him a rush he didn’t understand but couldn’t get anywhere else. 

It was all he was thinking about when he came back from work, particularly pissed off. Some rookie had fucked up exponentially and he was the one who had to stay later and fix his mistake when all he wanted was to go home and cuddle his cute girlfriend. Needless to say, he wanted something a little more stress relieving that cuddling now. 

You were all for it, of course, the caring girlfriend you are. You wanted him to be healthy, happy and stress free. So you didn’t protest when he was impatiently tugging off the cute outfit you wore out with your friends earlier, didn’t protest when he bit your neck harder than he usually did, bit down your protest when he tore your favorite panties and bra. You sure as hell didn’t complain when he was pressing his hands underneath your knees, pressing your legs up to your chest as he stuffed his cock so deep inside you, you swore you could feel it in your chest. 

No, the complaints only came with how good it felt, as always. His body caging you down against the mattress, holding you open as he thrusted over and over and over again with no end in sight. He wasn’t gentle about it and fuck, if that didn’t only make it feel ten times better. He kissed you, unabashedly groaning against your mouth as he fucked you so good your saw stars. Maybe that was also from the lack of oxygen as he kissed you. 

Either way, it wasn’t long before it became too much for you. Wasn’t long before you were pushing against his thrusts, your lust-drunk mind incapable of forming the right words to tell Leon you were going to come so you just did. Clamping down so tight around him, he knew you came, but that didn’t make his relentless pace stop, and that’s when the waterworks started. 

Your hands met his shoulders with no malicious intent, even as your nails sunk into his skin, pushing as tears built up in your eyes, clouding your already hazing vision. His thrusts only jostled them free, sending them free falling down your cheeks and the sides of your face. You stuttered out incomprehensible words, something or other about it being too much and needing a break, yet your pussy fluttered and sucked him back in so welcomingly that he couldn’t help but not believe you. 

He tutted down at you, slowing his pace as if to give you the recess you thought you craved, yet as his thrusts slowed, the strength behind them increased. “You feel so fucking good around me, sweetheart. So tight and warm, do you really want me to give you a break?” Whatever you babble in response is met with a particularly deep and hard thrust that just seems to pull the tears right from your eyes along with a pretty little sob from your lips too. 

“And look how pretty you are,” he coos, leaning down over you and pressing more weight down onto you as he just admires you. His eyes are sharp as they trail your figure from this close up position. How you’re wrapped so tight around him, the way your chest heaves, your smudged lip gloss that he’s sure he’s rocking too, all the way up to the mascara running down your cheeks that’s chased by more tears. He can’t help himself when his tongue slips out, lapping at your tears and groaning at the salty taste as he bucks into you. “You’re a fucking vision, baby. I love seeing you cry for me.” 

While that would’ve been alarming to hear from any other person, it was intoxicating to hear from Leon. It was enough to make the overstimulation worth it. It was enough to stir you back up when his thrusts picked back up with a fervor and more weight behind them, his mouth down by your ear. “I wanna’ see how you cry when I come inside you, baby. Wanna’ see your pretty face covered in tears when I stuff your pretty pussy full over,” a thrust, “and over,” a deeper thrust, “and over again.” 

His words leave no room for misinterpretation. You’re not getting a break, and neither are your tear ducts. 

~~~

sobs (but sexily)