#this might be my best work from the doodles set

[agerefandom]

Hahaha I’m sorry he looks so grumpy but here’s a little!Enji for you, @satanssfavoritebook! 

#mr flames man!!! #man me a flame (bum bum bum) #i'm a lil loopy cause i just got off work sorry #this might be my best work from the doodles set #my art #agere doodles #bnha agere #requests #endeavour #enji todoroki #usually i don't do character tags but i figured some people might have flamesman blocked! #so that's why i'm tagging this one #bnha #last of the artwork for now!

[gyuwoncheol]

Sir, Please.

Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.

Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.

WC: 3k

Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!

Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.

“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.

“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.

“Darling, it tickles.”

“I don’t see you flinching.”

“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”

You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.

A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.

“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.

You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,” another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”

“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”

Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”

“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”

A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”

“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours

“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.

“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”

You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”

Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.

“N-no, sir.”

Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.

You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.

“Eager are we?”

“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.

“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”

“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.

“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.

“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.

You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.

“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.

“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”

“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”

“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”

You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.

“My dirty little whore”

“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”

“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

“Your pussy is mine.”

“All made for me.”

You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.

“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.

“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.

“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.

A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.

“What?”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.

“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.

You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.

“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”

“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.

It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.

Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.

You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.

“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”

“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.

“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.

Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.

“S-sirr,” you sobbed.

A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”

Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.

“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.

Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.

“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”

The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”

A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.

“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.

“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”

Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”

“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.

“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.

You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”

“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.

You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.

Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.

“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.

A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”

“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”

You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.

“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.

“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.

You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”

He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.

Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”

He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.

The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—

“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.

“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.

Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”

#svt #seventeen #svthub #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt fic #seventeen fic #svt one shot #seventeen one shot #svt image #seventeen imagine #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo one shot #wonwoo x reader #paula writes ✨ #paula writes smut

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz smut #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfic #gvf fics #gvf smut #greta van smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Another Word For Protection Masterlist

NAVIGATION || Simon 'Ghost' Riley & Niece!reader (Platonic series)

❝ [There were many different words and examples for protection. Ways of saying it and ways of showing it; all varied from one person to another, oftentimes held reserved for the few that they love the most.

Defense, sanctuary, guidance, barrier, and buffer. A watchful eye and a steady hand.

It all led back to the same overarching meaning at the end of the day. You didn't need all of those fancy words to tell you what the sensation of it felt like, to be cared about. To you, another word for protection wasn't even a word at all, it was a single name:

Simon Riley.] ❞

WARNINGS ➺ Talks about death, murder, Simon's comic backstory & the themes that they carry with them, abductions, tense situations, etc. (Specific warnings stated/implied in each work)

This will be a small collection of fics featuring Uncle Simon & Niece Reader! It will include any future requests I might get for them/ideas I come up with myself/random thoughts, drabbles, or blurbs. No set update schedule or anything.

THOUGHTS ➺

✎ SIMON & SCHOOL SHOWS

╰┈➤❝ [Thinking about how Uncle!Simon would try his best to be at every school event that a young Niece!Reader has, even if he has to race out of the base to get there on time.] ❞

✎ SIMON & HIS MEMORIES

╰┈➤❝ [Thinking about Uncle!Simon and how he would try his best to tell a young Niece!Reader about her parents, brother, and grandma when she asked him where they were.] ❞

DRABBLES ➺

✎ SOLE SURVIVOR

╰┈➤❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

FULL WORKS ➺

✎ BLUE VIOLET

╰┈➤❝ [You were his best kept secret.] ❞

✎ MONKSHOOD - unwritten

╰┈➤❝ [Undetermined] ❞

IMAGE: Jean-Baptiste Monnoyer, Floral still life

FANART:

Platonic Simon & Platonic Price fic Doodles

I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform/A.I. program.

#cod masterlist #AWFP #platonic #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod x you #cod #cod mw22 #mw2 #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #female reader

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

#hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hk shade lord #shade lord #hollow knight shade lord #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #silksongeveryday

[thmles]

| August.

- You weren't mine to lose.

[pairing: miles morales x best friend!reader]

[warnings: sweet to angst, a bit of spoilers since the some scenes described came from the movie, regret, heartbreak]

[a/n: if you know august by taylor swift, yk the pain. it's based off that song bc i was thinking about some past situationships and how for some of them i was just a rebound so... anyway for the you're losing me fic, i'm not sure if i would make a part two, but i'll definitely think about it! anyways enjoy 🫶🏻]

You and Miles had met when your family moved into the apartment above them. You were both nine and to be honest, you kind of saw him as weird. When you were hanging out (much to your dismay, you would rather read than be with some boy), he would mumble songs as he drew on the sketchpad he got for his birthday. You, on the other hand, were silently reading fantasy novels that you got for Christmas. Despite your differences, you made quite the pair even going into high school.

Summer had approached Brooklyn faster than you anticipated. It was hot and humid. The air conditioning in your room would not work for some unknown reason and you were stuck sweating it out in your room. You grabbed a folder and used it to fan your face. A knock on your door grabbed your attention before eventually opening. “Miles, you can come into my room, you know.” You told him with a slight edge to your voice. He let out a chuckle before replying, “That’s just rude. My mom raised me better.” You rolled your eyes and stood to the side to let him in. You closed the door behind him as he sat on your desk chair and twirled around.

“Something on your mind, Morales?” You ask him as you sit on your bed cross-legged. You could tell he was nervous. He was looking down on the floor and sort of sweating. “A-Ah, it’s nothing. I just, uhm.” Miles mumbled out. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He was rarely ever like this.

“Just what?”

“Well, I was hoping that Gwen would come back and we could go to an art museum.” Miles paused to look at you to which you just stared back at him.

“And what do you want me to do?” You would be sad if Miles asked you only because Gwen wasn’t around. But, time with Miles is still better than anything. You have harbored a crush on him since you guys were ten. At first you were even in denial of your feelings for the boy but when you guys danced at your school’s halloween party, you knew it was over for you.

“Come with me instead? I mean do you want to stay in this heat?” Miles in a know-it-all tone. You rolled your eyes before chucking the folder you were using at his face. He laughed as he caught it with ease, setting it on your desk.

“Is it a yes or no?”

“What do you think, Morales?”

And that was the beginning of an eventful summer. You two were going out together more often than staying in. Everyday was a summer adventure for the both of you. Summer filled with laughter, longing stares, and nightly stargazing at the rooftop. It was the best summer you ever had, especially because you two might or might not have shared a kiss underneath the moonlight. You weren’t sure what exactly the label you guys had. You guys were best friends, for sure, but best friends don’t look at each other that way. They don’t kiss and draw the other on their sketchbook. They don’t take polaroids of each other to keep in their wallets to admire and treasure.

But all things came crashing down when you saw Miles with Gwen that autumn at his dad’s party. You were clutching the sketchbook he left at your desk the last time you guys hung out. Miles looked so…so in love with Gwen. Like she was the life of the party. You had an epiphany. All summer, you thought he looked at you lovingly. But, he wasn’t. It was different from the one he was giving Gwen right now. You knew better than to look through his sketchbook because it was his safe space. He could draw and doodle all that he wanted to help with the stress of life and school. As you opened the first few pages, it was filled with random sort of graffiti art. Flipping through more pages, there were drawings of spiders, Spider-Man, and,

“Gwen.” You breathed out. Tears were pooling at your eyes as more and more pages were filled with drawings of her that you were sure he drew over the summer. But there was only one drawing of you. The page also contained the polaroid he took of you as you were looking out into the city. You shut the notebook with one hand and wiped your tears with the other. His mom walked over to you while holding a plate of cake. She greeted other guests before she was in front of you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked with concern. She rubbed your back as you tried to prevent more tears from rolling down your face.

“Tía, can you…can you give this to Miles?” You told her softly and handed her the sketchbook. She looked confused but accepted it nonetheless. “And tell him to never talk to me again.”

You left that party without looking back. You weren’t even sure what to say to Miles or his parents. That he made you his rebound? That you were just a summer fling? You locked yourself in your room before your dad could question why you weren't at the party upstairs. You didn’t even make it to bed before you broke down sobbing. You slid against the door and began to cry. Your heart ached as memories of the wonderful summer you had flashed in your mind. You stood up and grabbed your wallet from your desk to pull out the polaroid of Miles’ stuffed face that you thought was cute. You took that picture when he was eating too much cake from your dad’s birthday. You stuffed it inside a drawer because you knew you couldn’t get yourself to get rid of it.

That night Miles kept trying to call you to which you promptly put your phone on ‘Do not disturb.’ You spent hours with a tear stained face and a numb heart. You stared out into space wondering what you did to deserve this pain. But you remembered that, it was kind of your fault too. Who were you to assume you and Miles had something after a summer filled with dates and stolen kisses? You were just his best friend. You were just a rebound. A summer fling.

“You weren’t mine to lose.” You mumbled to yourself as you brought your knees to your chest to hug them. Meanwhile, Miles is stuck in another dimension wishing he could go back to fix the mess he made, to go back to you and the amazing summer you had.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spider verse #miles morales x you #miguel o'hara x reader

[stevelieber]

Thoughts on giving critiques to comics artists.

Seeing lots of discussion from students about sour experiences with an unhelpful art teacher, so here's a long, long post about giving critiques.

NB: I have no formal training as a teacher, but I was a student, and I've spent decades giving artists feedback on their work.

When someone brings me a portfolio, I like to establish my limitations & clarify my perspective. My work is firmly rooted in traditional US comics storytelling (i.e., not manga or art-comics.) I can give feedback on other approaches but they should know where I’m coming from.

“We've only got a little time for this, so I'm going to spend that time focusing on things to correct. That doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong, or that there’s nothing good here, but it’ll be more helpful if I identify some problems and show you how to fix them.”

Why? Because for many young artists their entire sense of self worth is wrapped up in being good at what they do. (It was for me!) In school they were probably the best artist in their peer group. But now if they're hoping to turn pro, they’re at the bottom.

Sometimes you know what’s up when you see page 1, but try to keep an open mind. Some build their portfolios by sticking new pages at the back & don’t weed out the old stuff up front, so the work gets better as you go. When it’s like that I ask: “Show me your best 8 pages.”

I ask questions: "What's the goal? Do you want to be hired to work on someone else's project, or to get the story you're showing me here published?"

If 1, I steer towards a portfolio that'll showcase hirable skills. If 2, I look for what tweaks will make that particular story more effective.

"Do you have teachers giving you regular feedback? What are they telling you?" Sometimes a student is getting bad advice. In cases like that, I'll do my best to be extra clear WHY I'm giving them advice that's 180 degrees from what they've been hearing.

“What artists are you looking at? Is there someone you admire or try to emulate?” This often helps me understand choices they're making, and I can sometimes incorporate things those artists do into my suggestions.

I ask myself questions about what I’m seeing. First: Is there a narrative? If not, I make it 100% clear I'm not speaking as any sort of expert. I'm good at critiquing storytelling, but don't have anywhere near as much to offer illustrators or designers.

Can I follow the story? Or am I confused about what's going on? Are the characters and settings drawn consistently? If not, is the artist at least making use of tags (distinctive clothing, hair etc.) to keep the characters recognizable?

Does the artist demonstrate a good command of basic academic drawing? If not, Do I think they need it? Do I focus on "how to draw" or on "what to do when you can't draw?" Is the artist putting the viewer’s eye where it needs to be to tell the story effectively?

(At this point I’m usually doing little doodles to go with my instructions. I scribble out ugly little 5 second diagrams that I hope will clarify what I’m talking about. Or they might make me seem demented. Hard to say!)

Is the artist making choices that are creating more work than necessary? Is there a particular weakness? I once spoke to an artist with a portfolio full of great work when he was drawing animals and monsters, but his humans were amateurish in comparison. I spent that critique talking about drawing people.

A crit can be a grab bag. In addition to big-picture advice, I'll point out tangencies, violations of the 180-degree rule, wonky anatomy, weird perspective, places where the artist neglected to do important research, odd choices in how they spotted black, whatever catches my eye.

I also try to make a point of defining the terms, so that jargon like “tangency,” “180-degree rule,” and “spotting black” don't go over their heads. Find simple, concrete ways to talk about these things, & clarify why it's a problem when they aren't done correctly. Draw diagrams!

Recognize that even a perfectly phrased explanation might not sink in. Some lessons can only be learned when a student is ready, and it might take a year or two of work before they can understand what you were saying. It's good to plant seeds.

Are there other artists who are particularly good at solving the problems the student is trying to solve? I steer them towards that artist's work. And I always recommend life drawing & the use of reference to give work variety and authority.

Despite what I said earlier about focusing on what's wrong, I try at the end to find something encouraging to say. And if I’ve really piled on the criticism, I emphasize that I only spent the time and energy to do so because I take their efforts seriously.

If I've done my job right, they'll leave my table with tools to make their work better. And maybe in a few years they'll be looking at some younger artist's work, surprised to discover just how much you can learn when you're asked to teach.

#comics #protips #my work #comic book art #essays #teaching

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - New Perceptions

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This kinda a filler chapter, some cute fluffy moments between Bucky and Doodle happen.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)

Word Court: 3539

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

It wasn’t a surprise that your college finished out the regular season on top. Your college was known across the country for its sports programs. 

It didn’t surprise you when Bucky showed up with a bright cocky smile the day after the last away game. “Ooooh Doodle!” He said in a sing-song voice. 

You looked over your shoulder setting the paint brush down, raising an eyebrow at him, “yeeees Bucky?” You matched his tone perfectly. With all the away games you haven’t seen him since the weekend, you have made some decent progress on the painting of him. You were giddy to show him what you completed in his absence. 

“Guess who scored a date with Mandy, the head cheerleader?” He was beaming. Your heart sank momentarily, your facial expression dropping slightly before you composed yourself and gave him your best dazzling smile. 

“I’m not sure Buck, I’ve always been terrible at guessing games,” you murmured, trying to hide the discontent in your voice as you looked back at the canvas to compose yourself. He didn’t seem to pick up on your change in mood. 

“Ah come on Doodle, I’ll give you a hint. He’s charming, on the hockey team and incredibly sexy,” he sounded so cock sure. 

You turned to face him and tapped the end of the brush on your lip, feigning that you were deep in thought and then a bright smile split across your face. 

“Oh! I know who it is,” you said excitedly. “Sam!” You faked enthusiasm before turning back to the painting but not before catching his face drop for a moment. 

“Pfft, he’s about as charming as an out of tune piano,” Bucky deflected. “Come on Doodle, it’s easy.” 

“They’re easy huh?” You mused. “So must be you then,” you said flatly without missing a beat. He laughed awkwardly behind you. 

“Uh, yeah it’s me,” his cocksure attitude was gone and he sounded a little deflated. 

“That’s nice Buck, have fun,” you said quietly. 

“It’s not until tomorrow night,” he said, “I wanted to come hang out with you tonight,” your heart clenched and you bit your knuckle to stop the pang of hurt that threatened to crush you, you didn’t trust your voice at the moment so you just nodded. 

“How much of the painting have you done?” He asked quickly, changing the topic. You were grateful. “Last time I saw it you just had some base colours on.” 

You had the puck almost done, you were painting as if the puck was being shot at the person viewing it. Slightly different from your original idea, but you liked how it was turning out. Bucky was now standing next to you and you could smell the deep woody and amber tones of his cologne. He always smelled good, even after playing a game or practice. It was something you appreciated about him, Thor would smell like a locker room after practice. It was awful. 

You quickly focused back on the canvas and not how much you wanted to stick your nose into the crook of Bucky’s throat and inhale the heady scent he wore. This little crush was getting out of hand, you needed to squash it quickly. 

“That looks amazing, Doodle,” Bucky said in awe as he looked at the painting. “How do you make it seem so real?” 

“Practice, and a little luck,” you said with a shrug. Bucky moved out of the way when you picked the brush up and started to work on it again. “The inspiration was also a big help,” you looked over your shoulder at him and winked. He gave you a dazzling smile back. “What are you doing today?” He had pulled some books and notes out on the table and was staring down at them. 

“I’m studying for my astronomy final,” he said, his tongue caught between his teeth. His arm crossed over his chest and the other hand held his chin as he looked down at his notes. 

“Mind if I put some music on?” He hummed and you clicked the play button and let the music wash over you. You got to work, getting lost in the music and the brush strokes. 

The soft notes of Work Song by Hozier played soothingly over the speaker and you hummed softly along to the song and swayed gently back and forth. You jumped when you felt Bucky’s hand cup your shoulder and slide down your arm clasping your hand in his. 

“Can’t have a pretty thing like you dancing by herself,” he said softly. He pulled you to him and started to sway you two gently to the beat. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute, your cheeks were a bright shade of red as you hid your face against his firm chest. 

He moved you two effortlessly, he guided you in a small sway. He was smiling down at the top of your head as you leaned your cheek to his chest. His hand held the small of your back gently to him. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening, he was dancing with you randomly. It was completely out of the blue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. He was firm and warm under your touch. He held like you were as fragile as blown glass, his touch feather light and respectful. You usually hated dancing but something about this moment felt right. 

As the song came to close and Bucky took a step back from you, you started to miss the contact as quickly as you lost it. He was smiling down at you and kissed you knuckles of the hand he had been holding at the time. “Thank you for the dance m’lady,” he tipped his chin and gave you a devilish smile. You couldn’t find words to express who you felt at the moment. 

“Thank you kind sir,” you stuttered back. He laughed his beautiful rich as chocolate laugh and made his way back to his studying and you went back to your painting feeling lighter than before. The pit in your stomach growing deeper, you could still feel his warm hand on your waist and the way he held you so carefully.

“Loki I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you whined as you draped over his lap dramatically. You had texted him “code red” before you left the art studio, Bucky had offered to drop you off at your apartment but you declined like you usually did. Code red meaning ‘I need you please come get me.’ Which he did without hesitation. 

“Darling you’re being a little dramatic,” he ran his fingers through your hair trying to sooth your nerves. 

“Loki, I’m not being dramatic. We had this whole conversation about just being friends and spending time together without him waiting to get me in bed,” you exclaimed. 

“Which he probably still does,” Loki added, you glared at him. 

“Not the point, how can that conversation mean anything if I can’t even hold myself to it,” you said in an exasperated tone. “Loki, he danced with me, out of the blue. Just took my hand and danced with me,” you peaked up at Loki who was running his long fingers through your hair, he had an unreadable expression. “Who does that nowadays, it’s something my grandpa would do with nana.” 

“Little brother,” Hela’s sing-song voice called as she poked her head into the room. “Oh hello sweetling! I didn’t know you were visiting,” she smiled at you. You had always liked Helena, she was always nice to you. She gave Loki and Thor shit when we were teens and they were acting like typical teenage boys, insensitive and immature. She looked you over, draped over Loki’s lap, your arm thrown over your eyes. You looked miserable, she entered the room further and sat down on the edge of Loki’s bed and gently touched your shoulder. 

“What’s the matter sweetling,” she asked soothingly. 

“Nothing Hela, stupid feelings and a crush a stupid boy,” you whined. She laughed at that. 

“Men tend to be like that, this is why I like women,” she chuckled. “Seriously sweetling, it can’t be that bad, who is it?” She asked softly. Her eyes drifted to Loki for a moment and he made a face. 

“Bucky Barnes,” you groaned. Hela’s eyes widened and she groaned. 

“You’re telling me you’re upset over that overgrown toddler on skates?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, you looked at her, god she was so pretty. You nodded and sighed heavily. 

“I know, I know. He’s just so.... Ugh.” Loki chuckled and Hela glared at him. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles soothingly. 

“You know a couple years back he tried asking me out. I rejected him. He called me a stuck up bitch,” she said, you raised your arm off your eyes and looked at her. “He wouldn’t even let me tell him I had no interest in men, especially younger men.” You nodded and that was what Loki meant when he was rude to Hela. “He later saw me with Val on a date. He felt like an idiot and apologised for how he acted.” 

“He did?” Loki asked, he sounded surprised. Hela nodded. 

“He learned his lesson. Learned a few things too. From my understanding he’s not as pushy as he used to be,” Hela added. “Shame what happened with his girlfriend and her sudden departure to Alaska. He was apparently a lot different when she was here. She broke his heart. It doesn’t excuse his behaviour but it definitely gives perspective.” 

“You know Nat mentioned that he had a long term relationship that suddenly ended,” you said back, thinking back. 

“Val knew her better than I ever did, she apparently just packed up and left. No explanation, not warning. She was just gone. Barnes was devastated,” Hela said thoughtfully. 

“Huh, well that definitely adds perspective,” you agreed. 

“It doesn’t excuse his behaviour though,” Loki reiterated. You and Hela nodded in agreement. 

“What should I do?” You asked Loki after Hela left. He sighed and looked down at you, eyes swimming with uncertainty. 

“I’m not sure darling, if you told him what do you think would happen?” Loki asked softly. 

“He would probably pick up on trying to sleep with me again,” you groaned. 

You ended up spending the night at Loki’s house with him, falling asleep on his bed. 

“You know, it's a good thing you don’t share a bed with anyone,” Loki shoved you away from the centre of the bed. “You’re a fucking bed hog,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his groggy disgruntled voice. 

“Apologies Loki,” you laughed as he huffed. 

“Bull shit,” he exclaimed while standing up and going into his ensuite bathroom. You stood and leaned against the door frame while Loki pulled a brush through his hair and did his skin care routine. “Do you want me to bring you home so you can change and stuff? 

“I would appreciate it,” you smiled at him. 

“Morning Wands,” you called as you came through the front door, Loki right behind you, he grabbed your coat and hung it up as you pulled it off. 

“In here,” she called out as the toaster popped. You and Loki walked into the kitchen together. “Morning Loki,” she gave him a dazzling smile, which he returned. 

“I’m making cinnamon toast and eggs, hungry?” She asked. 

“I’d love some, I’m going to grab a quick shower and change.” 

“Princessa!” Peitro wrapped you in a hug tightly as he walked behind you and snagged a piece of toast off your plate. 

“Get your own,” you batted his hand away. 

“But I want yours,” he teased. You heard Wanda and Loki chuckle at you both. 

“I have a plate for you too, stop stealing hers,” Wanda ushered him over. 

“What plans do you have today?” Wanda asked as she sat down next to you. You looked to Loki, it was his turn to plan the Saturday plans. 

“The new book I’ve been waiting on is finally here so we have to stop by the bookstore in town,” Loki said, “then I think we’ll drive up the coast, we need pictures for our photography class.” You smiled at him, so thoughtful. “Then maybe some dinner and a stroll through the park,” he finished. 

“God Loki you’re making me look like a terrible boyfriend,” Pietro whined, you snorted into your juice and leaned back laughing loudly. 

“Maybe you should take notes,” Loki teased. You and Wanda were laughing together. Loki was an incredibly thoughtful friend. That’s why you adored him so much. But that’s where it ended. You two were the best of friends and that was where the line was drawn  and there was never a need to cross it. It took time for people to understand your friendship and the boundaries you two had in place. 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Wanda said thoughtfully. 

“What about you Wands? Vis is still abroad isn’t he?” She nodded at your question. 

“I’m going to practise with Pietro, it’s a nice day to be out in the sun,” she answered. “Vis gets back next week.” 

“I had fun today,” you said softly as you and Loki walked through the park after having supper at a sweet little Mexican restaurant. Loki had his hand on the small of your back guiding you and keeping you close. 

“I did too,” he hummed. You two walked around a little more, taking a seat on a bench to watch the setting sun. You looked out over the green space and saw some couples sitting in the grass relaxing. One couple caught your attention. 

“Is that bucky?” You said quietly, tipping your head in his direction. Loki squinted and nodded. 

Bucky was sitting a little ways away leaning back on his hands. Mandy sat next to him completely ignoring him. Something twisted in your heart as you looked at him looking up at the sky and she was scrolling her phone. Loki rubbed your shoulder soothingly. Drawn back to him you gave Loki a sad smile. 

“She probably just wants to sleep with him,” Loki whispered. You nodded in agreement. 

“He likes space a lot. He’s talking to her and she is not even pretending to listen,” it broke your heart. Soon his date leaned over and they got up from their spot. He trailed behind her as they waltzed across the green space toward Bucky’s truck. You watched him follow after her like some love sick puppy. 

But then for a brief moment his eyes connected with yours. His eyes narrowed in on you and he paused for the briefest moment as he looked at you across the field. You couldn’t place the look in his eyes, but it was something akin to longing, maybe you couldn’t be sure. As soon as it started it ended and Bucky was gone with Mandy into his truck. 

“Darling,” Loki’s smooth voice filled your ears and you looked at him. “You okay?” You nodded and sighed. 

“I think so,” you mumbled while shaking your head to clear it. 

You didn’t see much of Bucky over the next few days, practice and studying seemed to completely take over his days. He would text you little updates, ask how your day was going, remind you to drink and eat snacks. Your phone going off startled you out of the trance you were in. 

It was a FaceTime request from Bucky. You slide the answer button and gaze at him with a quizzical look. “Hello,” you chuckled, propping the phone on the easel. 

“Hey doodle,” his hair was wet and he was shirtless, you tried to not look at his shoulders. “Miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Like a toothache Bucky,” you mused. Your shirt rode up as you stretched your arm to reach up on the canvas. Your phone left you a perfect anglee for Bucky’s eyes to follow the now revealed skin. You didn’t catch him licking his lips at you. 

“I’m hurt doodle,” he feigned hurt and clutched his hand over his heart being dramatic which made you laugh. There was a sudden knock on the art studio door, you looked over your shoulder and then back at the phone. Bucky was trying really hard to not look suspicious. 

“What did you do?” You asked as you grabbed the phone and opened the door, you looked down and he shrugged. Opening the door you were greeted by a delivery driver. You raised an eyebrow and squinted at him. 

“Delivery for Doodle?” The driver said, he looked completely over the day and didn’t bat an eye at the nickname. 

“I didn’t order,” you looked down at your phone and were met with Bucky’s shit eating grin. “You cheeky bastard,” you accused him. “Thank you,” you took the food and sat down at the table in the art room. 

“Thanks Bucky,” you were touched. He had ordered your favourite, everything completely how you liked it. You had only ever ordered this once in his presence, weeks ago. He remembered. “You even remember the extra sauce,” you could feel tears well up in your eyes from how sweet of a gesture it was. You quickly rubbed the tears away and smiled at him. 

Everyone in your life had been so busy you barely spoke to them, Bucky had been the most consistent person by far. You didn’t blame the others, you had barely kept in touch being swapped with final projects and finals. Everyone was just busy. The fact he took the time to send you food, made your heart soar. 

“I figured we could eat together,” Bucky said as he sat up and positioned the phone so his hands were free and you could see his full torso and face. You almost choked on air seeing him. He was fucking hot, you stoped the that train of thought immediately and looked at his face and not his peaks or squishy tummy. He was a big dude, firm but soft looking. You wanted to run your fingers over his torso. 

“I’d like that,” you were impressed with how composed you sounded in that moment. 

“How’s the projects going?” He asked. You shrugged and sighed. 

“They're going. I’m almost done with three of them and I finished the last one this afternoon,” he nodded. Silence fell over you two again but it wasn’t uncomfortable. That was something you noticed shortly after his visits to art studios became more frequent, silence with him was comfortable and you never felt the innate urge to fill it. “How’s studying?” 

“Good, the practicals will be easy. I hate written exams,” Bucky was a kinesiology major, doing astrology classes for electives. What surprised you early on was that he was actually doing well in classes. It made you question those Reddit comments you read saying he cared little for academics. He wasn’t a valedictorian or anything but he was passing with 3.1 GPA overall. You weren’t surprised when he mentioned he wasn't interested in the arts, and that he only did the two mandatory English classes. 

“You got this,” you said to him with a smile. 

“So do you,” he gave you a dazzling smile back. “I'm sorry I haven’t been coming to visit,” he said quietly. 

“It’s okay, we’re all busy right now. I haven’t seen Nat in 4 days, she was hauled up in the dance studio getting ready for her practicals and the final performance,” you shrugged, the performance arts program did a big show at the end of exams the whole campus was invited to purchase tickets for. The funds raised went toward funding future projects. You had your ticket, and an extra because Loki had bought his and forgot to tell you. 

“She hasn’t been at practice either, Barton has been insufferable,” Bucky said with a mock exasperated sigh. 

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled and smiled at Bucky, he admired the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile like that. 

“You’re still coming Friday?” Bucky asked. 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Actually I have a question to ask you,” he looked at you attentively and waited. “I have an extra ticket to the performing arts final show after exams, did you want to come with me?” You didn’t build your hopes so high that he would say yes. “If you don…”

“Yeah, love too Doodle,” he cut you off. Your face lights up with a bright smile. 

“Awesome,” you cheered excitedly, you wouldn’t soon forget the beautiful smile that graced his face, you both looked into each other for a moment, smiles morning one another. You didn’t want to look away from him, his eyes snapped from yours at the sound of a crash from another room and some yelling. 

“Dammit Scott,” Bucky groaned and looked at you apologetically. “Gotta go Doodle, I’m going to try and swing by the art room tomorrow.” 

“Bye Bucky,” you waved at him as he waved the call ended. You saT back in the chair for a moment before giving up for the night and packing up to go home.

AN: Thank you all so much for reading! I've have been really enjoying writing this series!

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana, @charmedbysarge, @blackbirdwitch22

Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list!

#bucky barnes x doodle #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college au #college fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi first of all I'd like to say that I love your writing style and can't get enough of reading you. Could I make a request for a slightly older Jake Kim? As it's the end of the crews, Allied has won and neither Charles Choi nor Eugene are a threat anymore. Jake is a little bored despite his love for big deal and his friends and/or his mother is urging him to go back to school and he thinks it might be a good idea. At first he's a little scared and unsure, thinking that with his gangster looks and scars, he might scare off the other students, but Jake is Jake and his charisma is incredible. Anyway, he notices this girl who's a foreign student (if she could be French, I'd love you for the rest of my life), quite popular and he just has a crush on her but doesn't dare approach her because she's so popular. Well he watches her as she sit just in front of him and he is just so into her. The 2 of them could get close at a party or an event, maybe he could save her from a molka or a Zeus-like student or something like that too.

Sorry if it is not clear, english isn't my native language.

Besides, if my request doesn't inspire you, feel free to ignore it. I'll keep on reading you because you're incredible.

Anon, this is EXTREMELY clear. Ty for being so kind!! Sorry for the delay and as always, only half hitting the request points. Also French???

Jake Kim x French!Reader: Lecture

Leans F!Reader. Sort of college AU.

Jake sits at the back of the lecture hall. 

He always sits at the back. It was his seat before Big Deal, and makes sense that it's his seat after Big Deal too.

Picked in his middle school days as the perfect spot for taking naps and causing trouble. Not that Jake was ever a trouble maker, at least to teachers. He preferred to waste the hours by catching up on his sleep.

So used to being front and centre all his life. Thrust, sometimes willingly, sometimes not, into the centre of attention that it's quite nice to literally take a back seat. 

Except. It's out of an awkwardness, discomfort, that he chooses to sit at the back today. 

Hidden from most of the other students. Feeling out of place with his thuggish appearance, his scars and his tattoos.

Can't help but be a little self conscious, even if his bias should be grossly outdated.

"This seat taken?" You don't wait for his answer, missing his look of surprise, slamming yourself down on the seat. Hugging your backpack to your body and slouching with relief. 

"I got lost," you give a grin that comes out as more of a grimace, and wipe your brow, having worked up a sweat from trying to figure out this labyrinth they call a school.

Jake's eyes follow your fingers running through your hair. Absentmindedly notes how soft and shiny it looks.

You tell him your name, half distracted with setting up your laptop to take notes. He has your full attention when his low, husky timbre introduces himself as Jake Kim. 

You also notice he has dimples when he smiles.

.

.

He sees you again a couple days later, and you walk towards your lecture together.

Following your lead and taking a seat much closer to the front. Where Jake doesn't need to strain so much to see and hear.

He feels less self conscious today. Maybe that's because you're by his side.

He chooses not to dwell on it. Focusing on whatever the professor is talking about.

Somewhere between the droning voice and the overwarm room, his mind starts to wander. Begins to doodle on his notepad instead of taking notes.

You peek over at his paper, "What is that?"

"Jerry." Jake says it like it's obvious. Like you should know.

"Who?"

"My best friend."

You squint down at the doodle a bit more, "Cute. What breed is he?"

Jake holds back his grin and deadpans, "Human."

"Huh?!"

Jake chuckles. Points out the bald head and the attempt at human anatomy in a hushed voice as you inspect further, peering so close your foreheads are almost touching.

When finally,the image clicks, you burst out laughing, earning shushes from the students around you.

 .

.

Jake is shy. 

All his natural leadership quality completely leaves him when after the lecture, you introduce him to his friends.

A mix of students that grew up overseas. Seems worldly and experienced compared to himself who has barely left Seoul. Having lived a lifetime fighting and running a gang instead.

You introduce everyone. Give him more details about yourself, mention growing up in France.

"Paris?" he ventures, the only place he can recall off the top of his head.

You pull a little face at that. No, the South. Grew up swimming in the Mediterranean Sea. 

"Here," you lean in to show him on your phone the town you spent your childhood years.

Leaning in close enough that he can count each of your freckles, if he so chooses. Can pick out the scent of your shampoo

And Jake, for maybe the first time ever, is hit with a fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

It's a role reversal.

Everyone seems to know you. You remember the little details about them. Asking how their trip was, how their mom is doing.

You're popular, and Jake feels a little like an outcast. No one has given him a reason to feel that way. Not really, but he couldn't help feeling misplaced. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

Until you took him under your wing. Making him feel comfortable in this strange environment. 

Like many others, his face now brightens when you shine your light on him.

He remembers a little more, a lot more, about himself. Finds ease in his words and his body again.

Charisma and confidence once more rising to the surface. It always does with someone like Jake Kim. It’s embedded in his nature, fundamentally a part of who he is.

Being with you is uncomplicated, easy. Like how everyone always says it should be. He draws smiles and laughter from your lips, feeding on them like a lifestream.  Cracking cheesy jokes and puns that make you groan and lightly slap his arm with affection.

Jake thinks you're sweet and kind and all sorts of wonderful. Maybe funnier than he is, which is the greatest compliment he can give.

He's started to count your freckles every chance he gets.

.

.

You're doodling on his pad again. He's admiring your lashes.

Long and thick and luscious. But it's the way they frame your eyes, when you peer up at him with a softness, that makes his chest ache.

"I drew us," you whisper, and his eyes follow your pen. Two stick figures. One much taller than the others.

Maybe he's a bit too crazy about you, but he thinks that even these few lines are the essence of you two.

"What are we doing?" he whispers back. Your eyes drop to his lips, tracing the shape of them, the scar, words almost on the tip of your tongue-

Then it dissipates. 

You stare back at the drawing and give a shrug.

"Maybe this?" He draws what he hopes you can make out to be a bowl and some chopsticks.

"Food?"

"Sure." Jake musters up all his charm and gives you a grin, hoping it hides his nervousness. "Or dinner. A date."

He's trying for nonchalance. Like it wouldn't mean anything if you turned him down, preferring to stay friends or whatever this is-

"This Saturday?" you smile, and Jake nods, gives you a toothy grin back, dimples on full display.

You pick up your pen again and draw a little symbol over the figures. 

It’s a small heart, and his own soars.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #jake kim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #kim gimyung x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[dandylovesturtles]

Top Ten Posts of 2023

I decided, why not? ^^

I'm limiting this to fics/analysis/headcanon/etc posts I made during the year and skipping over anything that isn't my actual creative work. That said, if you're curious, my actual top post was this funky screenshot from episode 2.

10. Everyone's just fine with Donnie modding the moon buggy? (362 notes)

It occurred to me that despite being MASSIVE nerds for the Jupiter Jim franchise, the bros seemed awfully chill with Donnie taking an actual on-set moon buggy and modding the hell out of it.

A few people argued with me in the notes that the Turtle Tank is so cool no one could possibly be mad about it and I do think that's fair. The Turtle Tank is easily my favorite thing Donnie made in the show.

9. Splinter and Leo talk post movie (443 notes)

And then his dad walks in and says, “I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone.” And suddenly Leo doesn’t feel so good anymore.

This is the most recent tumblr fic I've done (I think lol), so seeing it make it this high felt pretty good. I love Splinter and his boys... they make me emotional.

8. A headcanon about the Disaster Twins (445 notes)

I have a headcanon that the twins are lowkey always trying to get each other to laugh.

This is still true.

7. A showcase of Donnie's injuries in End Game (462 notes)

So everyone talks about Donnie getting his shell shredded by the Shredder in Many Unhappy Returns but I feel like it’s underappreciated that that happened to him coming off of getting his ass beat in End Game like

One of the first posts I made when I made this blog haha. Poor Donnie |'D

6. Donnie records everything (617 notes)

broke: Donnie listening to what happened in the prison dimension woke: Donnie showing Raph Leo’s big damn hero speech since he wasn’t there the first time

The main reason why this has so many notes is because @roseverdict wrote a great fic down in the notes that you should all go read.

5. Leo asks Donnie a favor (829 notes)

“You might as well tell me what you need,” he says, turning to his computer and pulling up his list. “I’ll assess it and prioritize.” “No, no, that’s okay. It’s nothing,” Leo insists. “Nardo.” Donnie levels his best stare at him. “What is it?”

I love writing the Disaster Twins being soft and you guys love it when I write it too.

4. Present Donnie and Future Donnie have a little disagreement (CAS AU fic) (1,242 notes)

“What was I supposed to do, tie him to a chair?” “Yes!?” says Mini-him like he’s stupid, which warrants a scoff.

Shoutout to @skcirthinq who doodled a comic version of their conversation.

3. Casey Jr. and Uncle Tello troll Present Donnie (CAS AU fic) (1,701 notes)

Casey Jr, says Uncle Tello’s voice. Uncle Tello? Do you want to see something really funny?

This is my actual fic with the most notes! I'm glad you all enjoyed this silly little take on what was actually an incredibly intense moment in Cass's original comic.

2. Mikey contacts the Hamato ancestors (2,054 notes)

future Mikey: *trying to contact the spirits of the Hamato for advice and guidance in the apocalypse* Donnie’s spirit: Hello, you are now communing with Donatello.

I can't believe you guys gave over 2K notes to the stupidest joke I've ever made. Shoutout to @nonymous06 for this artist's rendition.

and finally, drum roll please.....

My top post of 2023:

1. A very silly idea for a separated AU (4,283 notes)

non-angsty ROTTMNT separated AU where the boys meet online and bond over their shared love of Jupiter Jim and skateboarding and Lou Jitsu. Then one day they agree to meet irl for the first time at a con and decide to dress as turtle aliens.

This post spawned an adorable fanart by @thatsmutbean , this hilarious fanart by @onionninjasstuff , and an entire fanfic called new phone who dis by @rbtlvr

This has been an incredible year! My love for ROTTMNT has not diminished in the slightest and I still have lots of ideas, so I hope you guys stick with me for 2024. Thanks again! Happy New Year!!

#no idea what to tag this as #if I put it in the main tag is that annoying #oh well #rottmnt

[luvring]

I saw "suggestion for cove" i ran here asap. So hear me out hear me out.... In game you only hear about mc and Cove going to school between the steps so i would love to see if you have any headcanon about the two of them hanging school life ( from step 1 age to step 3, you choose what age )

— cove school life hcs

thank you. Thank You. i miss him. like i could just replay the game he's Right There but I Miss Him. i'm saur sorry if any of this doesn't match canon I haven't played in so long. also sorry if my experience doesn't match urs. um. i tried to pick universal experiences

the both of you stay up the night schedules come out to make sure you have classes together. there's quiet celebrations when you match up and groans where you don't

you share anything and everything that happened during your time apart on your way home ! cove has never had your math teacher in his life but from the sheer amount of stories you've shared he hopes he never sets foot in that class

BOOK FAIRS! if you really wanted something he'd offer to help pay for it. he might have gotten one of the cool pens or eraser or something

you're always field trip buddies. you sit on the bus together, you walk around together, it is simply law!

oh my god assemblies where the teachers got seats and the kids didn't. he turns to you and whispers about how unfair it is every year. you agree obviously

THE SCHOOL CHRISTMAS PLAYS ☹️ thinking about little cove singing. help. the songs get stuck in your head after music class so they get stuck in His and

little school valentine's where the both of you get each other the cards/candies they sell. platonic or not—personally i love doing it w friends

god. you know he's going to bee line towards you during group projects. why wouldn't he! he knows how you work, you know how he works, it's perfect like It's Perfect

doodle on his notebook doodle on his notebook do

there's a page where the both of you talk in the back of your notes that's a complete mess but it's lovely

asks you for help on what to say during introductions/ice breaker activities. what he says changes over time of course but he's been using the same base for years atp

school dances might be a bit hectic for him but if you wanted to go he'd definitely try his best . just give him some time and don't pull him into the middle of it all please

depends on if cove was athletic or studious but um. cove protecting you during dodgeball! let's think about this (said by girl who despised every version of dodgeball.)

you know he loved the swimming unit for p.e. like he'd actually be excited to come to school

the Dance unit. every time he'd switch over to being your partner you could see him relax

would Absolutely do the thing where you stand in line in a way so you get put on the same teams. every time the teacher would pull a quick one and you'd be on different teams he'd either sneak onto yours or be very upset.

if the class had an assigned seating chart he'd be very tense walking in before seeing the board. he denies it but you're either going to see him pout or grin at the results so

i don't know how they got to school but If it was a vehicle,, car or bus,, just imagining you dozing off and cove scooting over so you can rest your head on his shoulder ☹️

(the first time he saw you rest against the window he started panicking because of how bumpy the road was and now it's stuck in his mind forever)

walking is still quite lovely though. holding hands on the way to school...please.

you and cove will always wait for each other any day you finish earlier than the other

if you ever forgot your lunch cove is immediately splitting his in half

he'd help you study for your classes even if he wasn't taking them. hand him a quizlet/flashcards/your study guide and you're all set!!

y'know how they'd force you to go outside for recess even if it was cold as shit. i feel like cove tried to hide in the washroom at least Once. he could probably get away with it a few times before getting caught

i think it's up to you what it is but like, having something you do after exams to celebrate and relax. i'm not saying cove uses this as motivation but you know.

and if you ever did particularly bad on one cove would be upset with you because ?? he knows how hard you tried and just wants to cheer you up. always reminds you that you did your best and there's always next time.

gives you a Look when you tell him you stayed up or weren't taking care of yourself. will do everything in his power to help you

depending on what clubs you joined, he'd try to tag along. especially if it was a more chill one and not like, a dance club (😔)

^ though if you were in any kind of performance cove would make sure he could come. smiles to himself when you get on stage like Ok That's Awesome For Me

in my mind if you're dating,, you are The prom couple. even if you aren't voted in, it doesn't take a lot to notice the sea green haired boy and his s/o who he has a soft spot for. come on. there's at least 2 friend groups discussing how you'd win (i have no idea how prom works btw)

you know at the end of elementary + jr. high + high school there'd be those parties or graduation. people, fairly, get upset about leaving their friends. but cove without fail looks at you and is always always grateful for the fact he knows he won't lose you

i don't know the last time i used this taglist If Ever. pls tell me if ur not supposed to be on it omg. | @lordbugs @xfangirl-trashx @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @bakugosgrenade @vhenis

#cove holden #cove holden x reader #our life #ol:ba #our life beginnings & always

[streamingcolors-gvf]

A Perfect Treat II

Header made by the wonderful @allieboop

Pairing: Josh x f!reader x Danny

Summary: After a night where Josh shared you with his best friend, there are rules set in place. You might decide to break them and see what happens. 

A Perfect Treat

Word count: 14.2k (yes I know) 

A/N: This is by FAR the filthiest thing I’ve written so far. I’ve been chipping away and picking at it for weeks now. It’s nowhere near perfect, but I’ll lose my mind if I keep looking at it. I’m also a bit nervous to post it. Feedback is always loved and appreciated! Hope y’all enjoy this mess of a fic

Special shout out to Allie, @pennylanefics @josiee-gvf for input, ideas, and letting me talk their ears off about this nonsense. Love you guys ❤️

***Disclaimer: This is going to have stuff between Josh and Danny. This is not going to be everyone’s thing, and I’m aware of that. If that’s the case, just keep on scrolling. **

Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content 18+ - MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penatrative sex, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, edging and orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise and degradation kink, rough sex, thigh riding, fingering and finger warming (it makes sense), teeny bit of breath play, spit kink. I might have missed something. 

It’s not like Josh has been ignoring you on purpose. He would never think to do such a thing. He wouldn’t dream of letting you get this needy and desperate for his attention, or would he?

You know it’s only because he has been busy working tirelessly in the studio on the new record with his brothers for the last few weeks. 

Despite knowing it wasn’t intentional, you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive when he insisted on taking you out to lunch today. You fought the idea, but he was persistent in bringing you along to the studio in hopes of making his absence up to you in any way he could - and you were always wanting to take Josh’s word for it.

You indulged in the romantic notion for a while, but you had been waiting here for nearly an hour since he left you to run a few last-minute errands. You bit back the annoyance that threatened to leave your tongue before he promised to come back shortly to take you out. You work to maintain an uplifted mood but deep down you curse at yourself knowing this was bound to happen when the plans were made. It’s just impossible for you to ever turn down the opportunity to have more time. 

So here you are, doing your best to keep yourself busy with the mindless scrolling on your phone. You even took a break to doodle on the pad of paper with the case of pens Josh keeps stashed away in the studio. 

You have had to entertain yourself since everyone else is either out or hasn’t even arrived yet. 

The only other person here is Danny.

He walked in about fifteen minutes ago while Josh was out, and gave you a friendly wave as he strutted past to start practicing in the other room. You shrugged it off at first as it wasn’t unusual for him to show up a bit earlier than the rest of the guys. 

He strummed and played around with a few riffs on one of the acoustic guitars before finding his way over to his kit. You simply ignore him as you reply to unanswered messages from friends and check through different social media feeds.

It appears to be successful until the sinful thoughts of your night spent together start to creep up to the forefront of your mind. You try to stomp them out, you're the heel to a fleeing spider. It has only been a few weeks since it happened, but memories are playing over in a constant loop as if they were made hours prior.

You haven’t slept together since that night, and not because you didn’t want to. You haven’t even really talked about it. Silent exchanges and passing glances were given, but in the end, it became clear that it was down to the opportunity and timing. After it all happened, Josh quickly established a rule between you - that if you were to fool around with Danny, he was to be there as well. 

The others not being privy to your new arrangement is making things more difficult than you would have anticipated. 

You give up in defeat from trying to push him from your mind to sit up on the couch and walk over to one of the chairs positioned in front of the large glass window of the sound booth. You lean forward in the seat, taking in the sight and listening closely to the sounds of him playing. Just in case you had to offer any feedback or even some critique if he were to ask. 

It's a fruitless attempt, because all you’re doing is staring at the strong muscles in his legs rippling with each deafening pound of the foot pedal thumping into the bass drum or ringing crash of the high hat. He has shed his shirt at some point during his playing. Your focus is directed on the defined muscles of his arms and chest swelling as he throws them across the kit. You watch in awe as his brows pull together in concentration, his face contorting in a wild grimace.

Danny wipes the back of his hand on his face when he finally takes a break, collecting the beads of sweat forming across his thick brow. His chest heaves rapidly with each heavy breath from exertion he’s put his body through. He bends down to grab a bottle of water by his feet, somehow not catching the fact you’re gawking at him. 

Your eyes are glued to his adam’s apple as it bobs low in his throat with each large swallow of water. He’s a breath-taking sight as the lights in the studio reflect off the sheen of sweat across his throat and bare chest. 

Before you know it or a chance to second guess yourself, your feet are carrying you out of the booth. His eyes flicker open and lock onto yours the second he hears you enter the room. You don’t have to say a word as you slink around the various instruments and chairs while making your way towards him. 

 He’s watching you closely, and that devilish smirk spreads with each precise step you make. 

He knows exactly what you want. You might as well write the words in black sharpie across your forehead each time you see the man. Hell, you’re not even able to look at him without blushing red hot at the thought of him between your legs. 

The two of you have been playing this game for weeks. With the way he’s looking at you and how you’re stalking closer to him, you just weren’t sure who was the cat and who was the mouse. 

Danny doesn’t say a word as you walk closer. He pulls the large headphones from his ears and adjusts himself on the seat while you run your finger along the glossy surface of the drums to the kit. First the cymbal, and then across the top edge of the toms - circling to face him. 

The thrill of just touching what seemed to be the most sacred to him sent a jolt of electricity from the tips of your fingers through to the middle of your spine. He keeps a calm face as he follows the trail of your hand with a keen eye until it dances across the edge of the closest cymbal to him.

He decides that he should be the first one to break the silence, “You going to tell me what’s the matter?”

You sigh to yourself, dropping your gaze to your fingers running along the metal, “I’m bored.”

He chuckles softly, sitting up straighter as you approach, “I can see that. But I’m willing to bet it’s not just boredom that brought you in here, is it?”

You choose to ignore the question, tapping along the drum with your index finger. You’re not looking at him but you can hear the rattle of his drumsticks moving in his hand that has been perched up on his thigh. 

The tip of the wooden stick makes contact with the side of your leg, right above the knee and just below the hemline of your dress. You look down to watch him closely as he drags it up at an excruciatingly slow pace, running along the smooth skin of your thigh hidden beneath the flowing fabric, pulling up as he goes. 

His eyes wander up and down your leg, holding up the dress as if to inspect what’s underneath. Shyness almost takes over, hoping that you’re passing whatever test this might be. It’s feeling very reminiscent of a high school crush that you’re trying to impress. 

He makes a low, deep purring sound of approval with a subtle lick across his lips. You want to live in that sound forever. 

Your breath hitches when you feel the polished point trace along the lace edge of your panties. You clench around nothing as he tickles the delicate skin with the lightest brush of the wooden stick.

God, you wish it was his fingers… fuck, even his mouth instead. 

The memories of how he touched you that night plays in your mind again while your eyes close. You imagine the sensation of his fingertips dancing along your body. It almost feels real as the wood dips under the band. A frustrated groan escapes you when he suddenly decides to pull it away to trail back down your leg. 

He doesn’t wait long before gliding it up between your legs this time, teasing the oh-so-sensitive area of your inner thigh. He is applying the right amount of pressure - just enough to make you know it’s there but still leaves you wanting more. Every inch of skin is buzzing, heightened beyond your limit as you stand before him.

With each inch the drumstick glides up your leg, the wetter you become. 

“What’s the matter, princess? Is Prince Charming neglecting you a little too much lately?” He taunts through a knowing grin, noting how much you’re squirming at the seemingly simple action.

“I never said that,” you snap back, letting out the irritation in your words, even if it was the truth. You weren’t ready to reveal that to him yet; you had to hold on to something before giving the satisfaction. 

The drumstick slips effortlessly between your legs, the hard point pressing up against your soaked cunt. The fluttered moan you give up crumbles the weak facade of having any self control. You feel it rub over the damp cotton, just perfectly over your already throbbing clit.

“Hmm.. would fucking you with these be breaking the rules?” He ponders in thought, tapping the stick with that flick of his wrist and smirk growing at the very idea. He presses it against you harder with a precise hand.

You whine out, “…Danny.”  

Heat flashes right through your face, pinkening your cheeks in a matter of seconds. The way you’re already whining his name again like the night spent together was almost too much to bear. 

You step a little closer, making the movement of his hand stop, “Yes?”

“Danny, come on,” you pout. 

You sound so fucking desperate, but the pitched sound of your voice makes his cock twitch the second the words leave your pretty lips. He just isn’t ready to admit to you how much he wants this, too. 

He tuts in disapproval, dragging the stick back and forth, “What would Josh think of this behavior, hm?”   

You wonder with a low hum, feeling more defiant than ever, “I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”

You take another step between his open legs as he guides you in with the drumstick tucked in its place. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get me in trouble,” He laughs, withdrawing the drumstick from your legs to bring it to the pulse point at your throat, right below your chin. 

You swallow against the stick pressing into the soft spot and your eyes drop down to see Danny looking up at you -displaying that same intense look he gives to you when he’s on stage. Like he’s ready to devour you the second he makes it backstage. Behind this drum kit, he’s cockiest he’s ever been and never fails to drive you wild every time you witness it. 

He hums again, correcting himself, “But that’s not it. I know it’s because you’re just dying to get yourself in trouble. Wanna get punished, don’t you, baby girl?” 

You choke out his name once more as you wrap your hand around his wrist holding the stick..the tick. 

The sound coming from you is pitiful…embarrassing really. 

He replaces the lack of the drumstick between your legs with his long, slender fingers. He groans when he feels the warm, wet heat of your pussy cupped in the safety of his palm. You clench around his hand hoping that he keeps going, and hopeful it was. Danny was not going to break Josh’s one rule that easily. 

He lowers the drumstick from your throat and tosses them both off to the side and they scatter across the floor out of your view. His hand rushes to find a place on your hip to tug you forward that much closer.

The pad of his middle finger drags over your covered clit with a precise curl. He’s beaming with excitement as if he had just ripped open a present on Christmas morning, sighing, “I love that you’re such a whore for me.”

All you want is to drop to your knees right then and pull his cock from his skin-tight jeans, to suck him off and fuck him while screaming his name. But you can’t. 

You’re pushing the limits of this boundary, but you swear to yourself you can’t do that. 

Danny must’ve been reading the thoughts of wanting to sit on his lap as they ricocheted around the emptying walls of your head. He pulls in his bottom lip, biting it between his teeth before cooing softly, “Sit that pretty pussy on my thigh, baby. Show me just how bad you want it.”

You’re eager to show him, hell, you would jump him in a heartbeat if he or yourself allowed it. While the idea rolls around in your mind like it’s on a hamster wheel, he helps guide you over his leg with his steady hands secured around your waist. Once you’ve lowered yourself onto his leg with your hands finding his broad shoulders for balance, you feel the denim press against your aching core. His fingers trail down the tops of your thigh, pressing softly into the supple flesh as his dull nails drag along the smooth expanse. He inhales deeply, breathing in the delicate floral notes of your perfume as your hips roll forward. 

He hasn’t bothered to wipe off the sweat covering his torso yet, but you can’t force yourself to care when it bleeds into the fabric on the front of your dress when you’re pulled flush against his chest. The musky scent - one that you recognize from that night and now more intense - fills your head. 

You shamelessly grind yourself against his thigh, and the strong, lean muscles of his leg flex beneath you. The hand planted on your hip pulls and pushes you along like the waves of an incoming tide, adding to the friction to your hidden clit by rubbing through your soaked panties onto the rough denim of his tight jeans. 

The other has been busy exploring you. 

“How much have you been thinking of my cock, hmm?” A breathy chuckle flutters across your ear. His new-found confidence is showing its face, with cockiness dripping through every word as it passes from his lips. 

You huff out an airy laugh, but the sound crackles from your throat as you strain to keep the rhythm of your hips going. If he has you working this hard for your own release like this, you sure as hell weren’t giving him the satisfaction of that answer. 

You lock your arms around his neck to close whatever space is left between you. The embrace is laden with lust with every inch of your body touching his feeling like a flame is brought to the surface. 

You’re positive that this was not in the rules Josh set.  You’re drawn to him like a summer moth to a flickering light. 

 “Do you think about it when he’s fucking you nice and slow?” he asks again in your ear, and the words stick to your conscience like his voice has been dipped in honey.

This time you nod against his cheek and the stray curls tickle your skin. 

His open hand travels up your back to find a hold of your hair, tugging you back by the locks at the nape of your neck. Your eyes flitter down to his lips. You want to kiss him again so badly. 

He looks up through his now heavy lids that are framed beautifully with his long, dark lashes, and smiles up at you, “Mmmm, you are the forbidden fruit, aren’t you?” His tongue darts across his bottom lip, “Good thing I already know what it tastes like.”

He isn’t hesitant about kissing you like he was the first time. He knows exactly what he wants, and it’s you. 

Danny’s fingers release your hair to wrap strongly around your neck, bringing you to his mouth with a firm hand. You bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb against the flushed surface of his cheek. He greets you with the slight salty taste of his sweat, but then the taste starts to melt into a certain sweetness that is him as your tongue licks across his. 

It could be that you’ve been so deprived of something like this, but he really does seem to taste better than he did before. 

Is it because you know you shouldn’t?

Anyone could walk in and see the two of you, but the risk never seemed so enticing. You should be thinking about Josh. The little date that he has planned for you. You did get all dressed up for him today, after all. You made sure that your hair was perfect and took a little extra time doing your makeup. Now you questioned to yourself if it really was only for Josh

A hand sneaks under your dress and grabs your ass beneath the bunched up fabric at the small of your back. He dips his fingers lower to feel between your legs from behind. 

The frantic rocking of your hips to chase the high consumes you. You can’t get enough of him. Just one more hit - one more pass of your core over the hard muscles of his thigh. You should be ashamed of how much you needed this, but you couldn’t drive yourself to care. 

With your face buried into the expanse of Danny’s neck, your heavy panting sends hot breaths of air across the skin. It all feels so rushed, like you’re racing against an imaginary clock - despite the feeling like you’ve lost every sense of time itself. 

What you do notice is Danny feeling rigid against you all of a sudden. He seems like his body froze beneath you with all of his movements on you stalling completely.

What he hasn’t told you yet is that Josh walked in about a minute ago, keeping the fact that he is standing right in the doorway and was watching this scene unfold. That he and Danny have been staring right into each other's eyes while you unravel completely. 

You second guess yourself, but you’re convinced that Danny is right there with you and consumed by this moment. There is no denying how close you are, and it’s doing nothing but clouding all of your judgement so you keep going. 

His hand presses into your hip to stop you with a soft warning mumbled into your hair, “Babygirl, no.”

You lean back to figure out why he has suddenly stopped, and you find that he’s looking through you - well, past you. The expression on his face makes your heart plummet into the pit of your stomach, making you feel like the floor fell out beneath you. You can only flip through the possibilities and it takes you several seconds before you dare yourself to peek over your shoulder. 

Sure enough, your boyfriend is leaning up against the door frame while he takes a sip from the paper coffee cup in his hand, looking over the rim into your eyes. You can’t place what’s going on in his mind. You’re sitting here probably as white as a ghost with every ounce of color draining from your face and there he was, as casual as can be. Your head whips back to Danny, searching for an idea what to do next, but he seems just as clueless. 

You mouth a string of curses in a hushed whisper and when you turn around again, Josh is no longer standing there. 

Before Danny is able to talk you out of it, you clamber off of his lap with the grace of a newborn deer learning to walk for the first time, so he stands to hold your hand while you regain your balance. 

You shake him off to rush towards the door to the sound booth, ironing out the wrinkles on your dress with your palms the best you can. Josh caught you both red-handed and you’re reeling trying to come up with a believable excuse as to why that just happened. 

Nothing remotely passable comes to mind within the seconds it takes you to stumble into the room. You’re expecting him to lash out and scold you the second you walk through the threshold. That this is it. This is going to be your first real fight. What you find is him sitting on the couch, waiting for you right where you should have stayed the entire time. 

You prepare yourself for the worst. 

He just looks up from his phone in his hand, meeting your eyes with that beaming smile of his. Without skipping a beat, he asks as if nothing happened at all,  “Ready to go?”

—————

Lunch with Josh went smoothly. In fact, it seemed to go a little too well even for a normal day out. You sat on the edge of your seat waiting for him to say something, anything about you and Daniel. He never did, he just carried on about the new music among the normal conversation topics, even at one point asking where you’d like to go for the next trip together. 

You played along knowing that he saw what he saw, and that he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. 

Later that evening, you pad quietly into the master bathroom after changing into your pajamas for the night. It’s almost midnight and the both of you are finishing up your routines to get ready for bed. The exhaustion from the day is setting in and you know he is feeling it as well, but this has been your only alone time spent together in private and you weren’t about to pass the opportunity up. 

You find Josh brushing his teeth when you come up behind him. At first, he smiles around his toothbrush when he catches your reflection in the mirror, thinking nothing more of your presence. 

You place your hands at his hips, right at the band of his pajama pants as you lean in to nuzzle into the depths of his fallen curls - smelling the special shampoo he insists on using. He reminds you of the feeling of curling up into a set of fresh linen sheets, still warm from the dryer. 

“Hi, mama,” he mumbles with a mouthful of toothpaste, still thinking of it as an innocent gesture without realizing your true intentions. 

That’s until one of your hands slides around his waist to dip lower between his legs to find what you’ve been craving. His eyes widen and a breath shudders from his chest from your bold advances. 

“Hey!” he giggles as he breaks himself of your hold slightly only to spit the rest of the toothpaste into the sink. He struggles to rinse off his toothbrush and wipe his mouth as you continue to play. The sounds of his laughter are cut off with a rather loud groan from the touch of your hand palming over him. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper into his ear, brushing your lips over the soft buzzed hair behind it before nipping at the tiny gold hoop adorning his lobe. You roll the jewelry past your lips to feel the cool metal against your tongue. 

Loving the fact he’s allowing you to take control, it finds its way down the side of his neck, soothing the soft skin after your teeth drag against it. He moans from the teasing sensation, and he can’t help but buck his hips forward into your hand.

He looks into your eyes through the mirror with lust. darkening the honeyed irises, “I missed you, too, sweet girl.”

Your fingers dip below the waistband this time, following along the trail of trimmed hair until you can finally hold his soft cock that’s already starting to harden in your hand.

You begin to stroke him gently, feeling him grow with each steady beat of his heart. He’s holding back the urge to take control when his hand wraps around your wrist that’s working him.

Feeling impatient yourself, you tug the pajama pants down his legs to free him from the restrictive clothing. Admittedly, it’s mostly so he can watch as you pump your hand slowly over his cock, and it’s no surprise to you how much he loves it. 

 He’s looking at how your hand looks around him, how big he looks in the grasp of your fingers. Something you’ve told him countless times of course, but he can’t help the grin when he sees it for himself. He’s making sure to burn the sight into memory for times when he can’t be with you. 

He just can’t decide to keep his eyes fixed on the mirror or simply to look down at what you’re doing. 

You? 

You’re looking at the defined lean muscles under the soft skin of his stomach that's cast in the soft lightening of your bathroom. You admire how his hip bones poke out just a little from his slender waist. It became your favorite thing to worship whenever your mouth finds its way down there.

You’re watching him flex with each unhurried pass of your hand, each subtle almost insignificant tremor that might go unnoticed otherwise. You watch in awe when the precum has started to leak and how the pink head of his cock shines when you swipe your thumb across it. 

“Mmm. I think you’re the pretty one, Josh,” you purr across the shell of his ear. 

He whimpers at the praise, parting his lips with each pitchy breath passing through them as his head rolls back against your shoulder. His eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in your loving touch. 

He knows what you’re doing but he’s too far gone to stop you. You concentrate on that extra sensitive spot under the head, swirling over with your fingers. 

“Oh.. fuck,” he growls, making the sound vibrate out from deep within his throat. 

The noise tells you he’s done letting you take the lead.

In a flash, you find yourself being picked up and shoved onto the bathroom sink. His hands hook around the band of your pajama shorts, ripping them down your legs so quickly that you wonder if they might have torn.

You’re barely given a second to think before he’s wedging himself between your legs with his cock in hand.  

You want him to fall to his knees and wrap his lips around your needy clit, like he would do in any other circumstance. This time, however, he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t think you deserve that tonight.

Instead, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, coating the digits in his spit to prepare you for what’s to come. 

They pass through your folds to add to the growing wetness, but not before rubbing a few teasing circles across your clit. 

He wasn’t going to be that cruel.

You lift your hips begging for more of his touch, searching for anything he’s willing to give. He graces you with it, but maybe not with what you were initially expecting. 

Josh doesn’t ease himself into you like he usually does. It’s not gentle and teasing. You've found that everything with him is always slow and so sensual. Deliberate and caring. 

This time he bottoms out into your pussy with one aggressive push.

For a few seconds, his lips press into that vulnerable spot below your ear as he waits until he can feel your nails rake down his back. That, along with your nod and how your legs are wrapping tightly around him to pull him deeper into you is all he needs to keep going.

His hips snap into you with a force you’re not really familiar with. You take it, greedy for whatever he is willing to give you. But now you’re missing his lips so you try to kiss him by pulling his face into yours, but they don’t stay there for long. 

Even his kisses are sloppier as he licks across your cheek. He presses his nose into the side of your face, fanning the tacky skin with strained breaths. Besides that, he’s rather silent with you. 

Which you know is very unlike him. 

Josh always talks to you. He’s always sure to tell you how good you feel, how much he loves you, and how much he wants to make you feel good. 

This is not the love-making you’re used to. He’s deciding to just fuck you tonight. Pure and simple. Hard and fast. 

Soon, other than the sounds of your own cries, you hear the smacking of your bodies together and the combined heaving pants echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. 

You’re getting so, so close, but you can also tell he’s closer. His breathing is more ragged, and the rhythm of his hips have started to falter, and his fingers are pressing hard enough into your hip to leave small bruises. 

You worry that you won’t be able to finish before he does, “Josh..slow down. I’m so-so-“

The way he knocks the air from your lungs with each powerful thrust cuts your words off in the air. You can’t focus on anything because of your vision being whited out from his cock slamming relentlessly into your cervix. That’s how you know he isn’t going to slow down. He is past that point with no chance of return, but you are so desperate to chase after him. 

Again, you beg hoping he would listen this time, adding whatever coaxing tone was necessary, “Josh, baby. Please. I’m right there, slow down a little..”

He only smiles against your cheek. 

Fuck, you’re so close. It’s all within reach. Just a few more seconds. 

But he doesn’t give you satisfaction. He pulls himself from the tight warmth of your pussy for the grip of his hand. His timing is just right that he only needs a few more strokes. 

You can only watch in disbelief as he paints your neglected clit with ropes of his hot cum. The contrast of how warm it feels compared to the cold marble of the counter against your skin makes a chill roll through your body. 

The smirk growing on his face reveals to you that he’s proud of himself, proud that he’s denied you the release of your building climax. Pleased with the fact he hasn’t even given you the reward of finishing inside you. 

“What the fuck, Josh?!” You snap at him through the fucked out daze you’re in, letting your frustration get the better of you. 

His hand finds your throat to pull you in closer. Close enough to feel his breath fanning across your parted lips. You squeak at the firm pressure of his fingers wrapping almost painfully into the side of your neck. 

His other hand is still between your legs. Those fingers slide through the mess he created, only to fuck his cum into your pussy. You whine, clenching around him in need which makes him laugh from the desperation. 

With a precise curl of his finger inside you, his lips find your ear, and his voice like the finest crushed velvet of his jumpsuits when the whisper graces your senses, “Maybe this will be a good reminder next time you feel like breaking the rules, princess.” 

It leaves you speechless, void of any coherent thoughts that could be used for a response. 

He doesn’t say anything else as tucks himself back into his pants, and places a tender kiss to your cheek before walking out of the bathroom to crawl back into bed. 

——-

After the little stunt Josh pulled that night and the moment with Danny, things had been undoubtedly tense between you. You have settled on the fact that there wasn’t anger or resentment in that tension, it was just that he has been holding out on you all week, keeping you deprived and teetering on the edge. The kisses he gave never deepened, affectionate touches stayed innocent.

It was driving you absolutely mad. Sure, you could sneak off when you needed to for your own release, by your own hand. Alone. It had gotten to the point in your relationship that touching yourself would never compare. And he knew that. 

You had been craving, even dreaming of his hands roaming across your body, his mouth exploring all of his favorite places. 

Tonight you were hopeful that the dry spell would finally end. That the needed alone time together would be the solution to this growing problem, but the thought quickly dissipated the moment you find out that he invited the guys over for movie night.

He had done it on purpose. You were sure of it. 

You’re frustrated with Josh enough that you decide you don’t want to even sit next to him during the movies tonight. You aren’t sure what’s bothered you more, the fact he had been witholding sex or that he had been acting completely normal about it. 

Two can play this game of his. 

You ignore him to find a comfortable spot on the large sectional before the guys even arrive. You can hear Josh singing to himself in the other room, too busy making drinks and ordering food to notice you’re no longer sitting in ‘your spot’.

It isn’t ten minutes later when Sam, Jake and Danny arrive at your front door. It’s very on brand of them to make a loud entrance, calling out for your boyfriend as soon as they walk in. You stay seated on the couch, mostly because you don’t feel like getting up to greet them. It’s not out of the fact you didn’t want to see them, but rather you just wanted Josh’s attention for yourself. 

You hear Sam and Jake make their way into the kitchen by the sound of their voices traveling and echoing into the space. It’s followed by the muffled conversations, and you can only guess it’s about what drinks to make. You giggle to yourself, because it’s the only incentive for Sam to abandon a night out for sitting through one of Josh’s cinematic choices for the evening.

While you’re waiting for them to shuffle into the living room, you play on your phone to distract yourself. Daniel’s presence in your home is causing a new batch of nerves to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You’re staring at the screen, but your mind isn’t registering what is on it. 

You try to listen closely to what’s being said, but it’s almost impossible to make out the words. By the tone of Josh’s voice, it lets you know that he’s in good spirits despite the bickering between him and his brothers.

There is a creak of floodboard, making you lift your head to follow the new sound coming from your periphery. You startle when you see that it’s Danny standing in the doorway to your living room. 

He’s testing the waters. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the studio incident, and the memories of that moment flash before you. The intensity of his stare causes a hot, prickly blush to form across the apples of your cheeks. 

It’s different. The way he is looking at you tonight - as if it’s to say “there is no way we can stay ‘just friends’”. It makes your stomach flip but you can’t seem to make yourself pull away no matter how hard you try. There’s a wanton desire smoldering within the darkened irises that are hidden behind black brows, and it manages to pierce right through you.

Things have certainly changed since that night.

But it’s still Danny standing before you. He hasn’t lost that certain softness in those massive brown eyes that make you smile. 

You take note that he’s dressed comfortably tonight, wearing one of his worn band tees that fits his tall, lean frame perfectly. The dark, almost black denim wash of his jeans brings out the golden, sun-kissed tan that you’re thankful for; it's still lingering as you approach the autumn months. He’s wearing his hair down and the perfectly maintained curls bounce freely around his face. 

But fuck he looks so good.

He takes a step forward, finally making the move to pass through the threshold that he’s been cautiously standing behind for nearly a minute now. But before he can speak a single word, Sam is bursting into the living room. 

“So are you not gonna say hi to me or what?!” Sam huffs and he walks by Danny, nearly knocking into him as he does so. 

“And give up my perfectly warm spot? I don’t think so.” Although you’re being pulled into your quippy banter with the youngest Kiszka, your eye never leaves their best friend. 

“Oh I see what I mean to you then. At the bottom of the priorities list. I’ll remember that.”

You bring your eyes back to your phone to scroll through the app that’s still open on the screen, “I’m sure you will.”

Another voice breaks into the living room, passing by Sam, “Will you just leave the poor girl alone, Sam? She’s suffered enough dealing with your annoying ass.”

“Hi, Jake.” You smile at him as he finds a spot on one of the recliners. 

“Hi, Jake,” Sam mimics your voice with an exaggerated pitch, and Danny is quick to throw a punch into his arm. 

“Ouch!” Sam yelps as he rubs his muscle, turning to Danny, “What the fuck was that for?!”

“No fighting!” Josh scolds them. He is the last one to shuffle into the room with full arms of drinks and snacks. That’s when he sees you out of your usual spot, and he raises a brow to you out of curiosity. 

Over the course of the film, you nudge in closer to Danny so your back is pressed against his chest, tucking yourself into his side. 

You weren’t even trying to make Josh jealous, you just wanted to grab his attention. The plan is quickly backfiring because he is too absorbed with his eyes locked on the screen to even notice you. 

You’ve forgotten the title or plot of the movie Josh has picked because you can’t seem to pay attention to it even if you wanted to. All of your focus is on Danny’s quiet breathing; studying how calm and steady it is with each inhale and exhale. You fixate on the comforting, earthy scent of his cologne, the same one you recognize from the night spent together. You notice how warm his skin feels to the touch each time it brushes against yours whenever he shifts beside you. 

No one has really noticed nor cared that you’re cuddling up next to Danny instead of Josh. You’ve been known to show some level of affection to any of the guys, so this doesn’t really stand out of the ordinary to them. 

They just don’t know of the recent history between you two. 

You move incredibly slow beneath the cover of your blanket, careful not to bring any attention to yourself.

Well, the unwanted attention anyway. 

 At first, your touch is comforting as you feel yourself over your panties as you test it all out-  just to see how intune Josh really is to you. You watch him as you dare yourself a little more by moving your fingers under the material of your underwear, seeing if he would break away from the t.v. 

Before you can venture any further, or even give up the idea entirely, Danny’s hand wraps tightly around your wrist, halting your movements. 

Shit. Are you already caught?.

A blush forms at your cheeks. In the back of your head you knew he would probably be the one to notice even if he isn’t the main target of your attention.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble again,” he whispers harshly and you can feel his lips moving against the shell of your ear. 

You stay silent, worried that you would be caught by the others the second you mutter a single word. A few excruciatingly long seconds pass with you frozen like this. 

“I’ll get you there if you’re quiet,” he breathes, voice only loud enough for you to hear with his sweetness still lacing delicately throughout the words. 

You nod and he gently releases his hold on arm, but he doesn’t pull away from you. His fingertips travel farther down, dipping under the band of your sweatpants to trace along the bare skin of your thigh. It tickles you at first, but you’re already so tightly wound that the simple touch feels like a shock of static to the sensitive area, making you squirm against him. 

He squeezes his hand around the thickness of your leg, massaging the tense muscles with a kneading thumb. He finally retreats enough to dip between your legs and for a moment you swear you aren’t even breathing. 

If you were paying attention to anything else, you would have realized that Danny wasn’t either. He swallows the gasp that threatens to leave his mouth when he feels how warm you were. How you’ve already soaked through the cotton panties like that day spent together in the studio. He’s amazed that hasn’t even really touched you and you’re already falling apart like this. 

He considers teasing you some more, but decides against it. He wants to be the one to bring you relief you so desperately need. He’s determined to be the one to make you cum when Josh has been stringing it along for weeks. It’s a secret he’s kept from others, but feeling you again has been on his mind without reprieve.

It’s something he can’t shake from his thoughts no matter how many times he’s stroked himself alone in his bed at night in an attempt to get you out of his system. 

There is no way he would be able to hold out from touching you in a predicament like this.

He can barely contain his own sounds when he presses into your clit through the thin cotton. Your hips lift  without your control to chase the feeling. If he had all the time in the world, he would just keep himself there - playing with you for however long he wanted. 

Danny slides his hand beneath your panties and you nearly cry out when his finger finally dips into your arousal, parting your soft lips and coating the longest digit as he slips it through to circle your clit. He swallows back the groan when he feels how it’s already so swollen with need. You feel close enough that he could whisper the words that he wants to make you cum, and the heat of his breath fluttering across your pussy would unravel you completely. 

His cock throbs impatiently within the restriction of the tight jeans when he feels just how wet and warm you really are. 

He’s drawing deliciously slow patterns as he’s exploring you like this for the first time. Everything is so new to Danny. With Josh, he knows every inch of your body, almost too well sometimes. Danny is still learning, taking in each minute detail. 

He notices every faint change in your breathing with the different flicks of his finger, noting the ones that drive you the craziest. It’s becoming challenging to stay quiet, and you’re biting into your lips with each moan trying to escape whenever his fingers dip into your entrance.

Just when you think your moments away from breaking through the rising peak of your climax, he stops the movement of his fingers and buries them deep inside you. 

You claw at his hand beneath the blanket covering your legs, silently begging him to keep moving. You can’t see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he quickly shakes it away before anyone notices. 

You think you’ve gotten away with it so far. You’re confident in the fact that no one knows, but when your eyes finally open and refocus on the room you’re in- you are met with Josh’s eyes staring right back at you. 

Oh no. 

His eyes then flick over to his two brothers, seeing that they are still watching the film and not you. When they find their way back, you can’t decipher this look he is giving you. It’s knowing and intense -  but they are still playful even as they darken before you. 

Danny isn’t moving his fingers anymore, letting you know that he also sees Josh watching the both of you. He feels you clench and flutter around him as his stilled digits are locked tightly in the safe warmth of your pussy. 

This entire time Josh doesn’t make a sound. You almost question it but there’s no doubt he knows what’s happening. After a few long seconds of looking between you and Danny,  his gaze returns to the film played on the t.v. 

You try your best to watch the film on the screen, but your efforts are proving to be pointless. Every so often, Danny curls his fingers that are still inside you, sweeping them against your hidden spot with the perfect pressure. He even lets your own hips do the work as you lift and squirm to chase the friction. 

Each passing minute is time spent in blissful agony, keeping you suspended on a quivering tightrope. Each subtle movement is nearly imperceivable, but it’s just enough to tighten the familiar coil twisting in the pit of your belly. 

It feels like an eternity with how long it takes him to coax you along the slow build of your release. You cum just like this - with his fingers tucked deep inside you. 

It’s the first time he’s really felt you ravaged by the intensity of your orgasm, one that you weren’t even expecting yourself, and god he wishes to himself that he could feel it on his cock. He can barely contain himself behind you as you roll through each crashing wave. 

He chooses not to pull them from you as you begin to come down. You wiggle your legs slightly because of the sensitivity of them staying there, but he remains still.

You really aren’t even sure how much time passes from that moment. To you, the scenes of the movie are just bright blurry images flashing in front of your fogged mind. Josh started talking about something related to the film, but you can’t find the strength to make out the words. 

Sam is starting to get annoyed with Josh’s rambling about the film as the ending credits begin to roll. He looks over his shoulder to see you, but is immediately stunned by the sight.

His mouth falls open in concern and stands up, “Oh wow! Y/N, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”

Danny then scissors his fingers inside you. 

You croak out a broken whine and then stumble over a response, clenching your thighs around his hand, ‘Hu-huh?”

“Do you have a fever or something?” Sam asks as he starts to walk towards you, but you scramble to interrupt him before he gets too close.

“Uhhh…maybe. I think it’s hitting me all of a sudden,” you respond, putting on your best sick act. 

“Maybe you should go lie down upstairs, babe,” Josh suggests in a sickeningly sweet tone in a display of concern, but the glint in his eyes reveals something else. 

Jake is the one to pick up on the strange tension as his eyes find his twin’s. You watch as an outsider as they exchange a conversation in silence, just as they do time and time again. Jake’s eyes shift between Josh to Danny and then back to you before landing on Josh’s once again. Your cheeks flushes even hotter with embarrassment because you are sure he has picked up on whatever is going on. 

He stands to his feet, letting out a grovely sigh as he smooths out the wrinkles of his worn pants, “Alright, Sammy boy. I think it’s time to head to the bars before it gets too late.”

Sam groans in protest when pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time lit up across the screen, “It’s only 9:30!”

Jake is already out of the living room when he calls back to his younger brother, “Come on, Sam.”

“Okay, okay!” He rolls his eyes and stomps out of the room, throwing his hands up in the air as he follows his older brother. 

As soon as the door latches shut behind Jake, Josh turns back towards you and Danny. His eyes flick down to the blanket and his voice is taut, like a tightly wound string as it shoots through the air, “What do you think you’re doing?”

You do your best to put on that extra syrupy, saccharine sweet voice of yours to win him over, knowing that you were without a doubt - very much in trouble. 

“You said we couldn’t do anything if you weren’t here. And it looks like you’re here to me, Joshy.”

Danny snickers into your hair in response to your brattiness, and you throw an elbow back into his stomach to cut him off.  

Josh’s cold, expressionless face doesn’t change, “You’re just like her, Daniel. And you spoil her.” Despite the icy stare, the words are heated as they leave his mouth. “Go ahead then. Keep treating her as sweet as she acts, and move the fucking blanket.”

You obey the command with cautious movements, and slowly kick the throw off your legs with Danny’s fingers still buried deep inside you. He watches your every movement, and when the blanket falls to the ground - his eyes are back to yours. 

You swear you see the tiniest grin start to show when he sees that Danny is still touching you, taking care of you. He’s still enjoying himself, and you know this by that little tell of his - the way he rubs his fingers methodically around his knee and picks at the threads of the pant seams. It’s something that you would never admit that you know. 

He’s trying so hard to keep up the facade of being upset with you, and you have to give it to him - he was doing a wonderful job. But you decide to up the stakes, and loop your fingers around the waistband to slowly pull them down your legs. 

You’ve taken your soaked underwear with them as well, revealing everything out to him. A giggle leaves you when you see his mouth fall open at the sight. 

Danny takes the chance to slowly pump his wet fingers in and out of you for show. After all this time tucked inside, he finally pulls them from your pussy to spread you apart for your waiting boyfriend. Josh nearly drops this act he’s been putting up with so he can come running to you, but he holds strong in his place on the other end of the couch. 

What he can’t do is keep his focus on your eyes. They become fixed on Danny’s fingers, and they stay there for longer than you expect as if he has been stuck hopelessly in a trance. 

Danny stays silent as he is shamelessly showing off, prideful of what he has done to you this evening. They are both busy listening to the soft sounds that escape your lips with each pass of Danny’s fingers over your over-sensitive clit. 

“Well, someone has to. You’d think she would have a boyfriend that’s generous enough to take care of her. What did you say again? ‘I love to take care of my baby.'' Those were your words, right?”

That’s what makes Josh shoot up from his seat and saunter over to you in a few strides. He would usually extend a hand and wait for you to take it, but this time he grabs it without warning and pulls you to your feet - ripping you away from Danny’s hold as if to say “You have enough time playing with my girl.”

You yelp from the sudden action as you are yanked into Josh’s arms. 

With a grip around your throat, Josh finds your mouth with his own and shoves his tongue past your lips without giving you a second to process any of it. Kissing Josh was always a slow building dance, a gentle give-and-take of who would lead. Right now, it’s quite the opposite in this unbridled hunger for you. 

He bites at your lip, sinking his perfect teeth into the soft flesh before pushing his tongue against yours. 

Your shirt is yanked from your body and thrown somewhere onto the floor in the midst of it all. Josh’s hands are gripping and clawing at your ass, roaming across your back and around the nape of your neck. It’s all in front of Danny, who is still sitting behind you, all to make the point to show him who you really belonged to. 

Danny knows better than to complain.

Josh eventually guides you back, but you’ve been so disoriented in the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, that you’re forgotten your place in the living room. You give him your blind trust as you stumble backwards until you feel the edge of the couch against the back of your knees. 

He shoves you down onto the open chaise end of the sectional with a deliberate push to your chest that makes you giggle. You’re loving that he is taking charge and is a little more aggressive with you, which is definitely the side of him you are experiencing tonight. 

Josh pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere into the room to add to the mess of clothes collecting on the floor already. 

You can feel Danny sitting by your head, and you tilt your head back to get a better look of him. 

Before you can really get to see or say anything to him, Josh rolls your nipple into the heat of his mouth. The addicting feeling of him is sending your senses into overdrive already.

 God, you’ve missed this so much. 

He licks across your bare, flushed and warm chest, dragging his teeth behind the trails his wet tongue leaves along your skin. You squirm and lift your hips helplessly beneath him. 

Josh’s teasing laugh that hums low in his throat flutters from his lips that are pressing against your ear, causing you to shudder instantly as he taunts you, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already acting like this? Maybe Danny didn’t take care of you as much as he thinks.”

You hear Danny scoff of disagreement above you. 

Josh’s middle finger travels from the hollow point of your throat, between your breasts, down and over your navel to dip between your legs. He releases a groan when he feels you for himself, “or maybe you’re just being extra greedy tonight.”

The tiniest whimper squeaks out, “Josh…”

“What’s the matter, baby?” He mumbles into your throat. 

You beg with a forceful roll of your hips up into his hand, “I need you, please.”

His warm breath clings right to your skin just as he ghosts his finger from your entrance to your clit,“You want me to take care of you too, don’t you?”

“Yes! Josh, I need to feel your mouth! Please!” You suddenly shout the frustrated plea into the open space. 

He growls into the nape of your neck at the sound of his name, feeling rather possessive as he sinks his teeth into your throat, “Fuck, you sound so gorgeous when you beg for me.”

Danny is showing how restless he is with how his legs start to shift and fidget more and more with each passing second. The movement reminds you of his presence you nearly forgot about with Josh on top of you like this. You reach behind to feel your way to the button of his jeans, but he’s so hard and impatient that he can’t wait for you to pop it open. 

He takes the moment of control by quickly undoing his pants to pull his cock out from the pant leg where it’s been tucked away for nearly an hour now. He takes your hand with his fingers gently wrapped around, and guides it towards his erection. 

The skin is silken soft as your fingers brush along the length, and within seconds you feel him add his own spit collected on his fingers to use as lube - making your hand glide along him in languid strokes behind your head, and the sounds of his moans soon follow. 

You can’t see it, but you whimper out from having the weight of him in your grasp again. You close your eyes, picturing behind your lids of what it looks like, how it feels in your mouth, how the size of it stretches you out. 

You want to put every ounce of your attention to make him feel good - to make him feel close to anything you’ve been experiencing tonight -  but once Josh starts to place careful kisses on your clit - that idea is quickly thrown out from your conscience. 

You clench in need after each brush of his lips on you. He watches you, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, loving how your breasts move as you take in those shaky breaths to ground yourself. 

He is more than aware of how sensitive you are, and makes sure to ease you into the addition of his mouth slowly. Each kiss lasts just a touch longer as he admires your pussy before his tongue graces you finally. It’s a barely-there flick when it teases you, so faint that you question if it really happened. 

You don’t wonder for long before he adds a little more pressure, making a loud moan echo throughout the large room.  You feel the smile form against you when he hears it, and you fight the temptation to squeeze the cocky bastard’s head between your legs.

The work of your hand on Danny is lazy and unfocused, and it’s not because you aren’t trying. He doesn’t seem to care, because just the feeling of your fingers around him and seeing you like this is enough to nearly send him over the edge. 

Josh guides your vulnerable little clit into the warmth of his mouth, taking his time to treat it just right as he suckles it just the way you love. Like this time is no different than the many nights spent together where he insists on making you cum over and over with his head buried between your legs with no end in sight. 

If you weren’t such a writhing mess, you would have seen Josh making eye contact with Danny as he licked across your dripping cunt with those teasingly slow stripes of his pointed tongue. 

You buck up from the sensation and your head lands across Danny’s thigh. He giggles quietly and leans down to you, letting the rasp of his voice fan across your ear, “Go ahead and tell him how you’ve been imagining my mouth on your pretty pussy.”

Josh takes this as a new challenge and changes everything that he’s doing in an instant without bothering to ease you in first. He’s now devouring you like you are his last meal he will ever taste and consume.

You’re getting so close. Josh’s frenzied laps of a flattened tongue as he dips his fingers inside of you is enough to hurl into the next crashing wave of another orgasm. 

You see a splotchy array of colors flashing behind your closed lids. It’s a weightless, out-of-body feeling as you are pulled under by the velvet-softness of Josh’s tongue. All sounds are being muffled out, but you can bet that you’re probably crying out in pleasure. 

Danny adds a final touch with a roll of your nipple between his thumb and finger after giving your breasts a squeeze in the large palm hand.

It wasn’t on purpose, but you’ve let go of Danny cock. He more focused on helping to ground you to them by letting you claw at his forearm while your other hand nearly rips Josh’s hair out by the roots. 

He fights through the pain of it with satisfied growls that vibrate through you with the pads of his fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs. He makes sure to return the favor by licking unapologetically over your overstimulated clit, causing your legs to shake violently around him. 

Josh retreats from you and stands to his feet, but doesn’t bother to wipe his mouth and face that is glistening in your shared wetness. You’re still distracted enough with trying to recover from your orgasm that you don’t realize that he had made his way back over to Danny. 

Your boyfriend stands before him and leans in, placing a hand to the back of the couch behind Danny’s shoulder. He is a little startled by the action and stiffens his body, not sure what Josh is planning to do next. 

Your boyfriend takes Danny by the chin and places a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste at first, but as he tastes you that was left on his lips, he yearns for a bit more. Josh feels generous and is more than willing to give in, deepening the next kiss. 

You’re dragged into a clearer state of consciousness when you feel a hand pull yours that has been holding Danny’s cock. You rush to sit up in confusion only to see Josh has replaced yours with his own. Danny is frozen and speechless as watches in disbelief, along with you, as Josh starts to stroke him. 

You’re quick to note that it isn’t even a technique that Josh would use on himself. It’s teasing and experimental, light but deliberate with each pump of his fist. Each twist of his wrist, the passing of his fingers over the head of Danny’s cock causes a pathetic whimper to push past his lips.

Your body doesn’t even feel like it belongs to you anymore with how much you’re struggling to bring your fatigued limbs in to sit up onto your knees. You reach forward but Josh interrupts you before your hand can touch him. 

“Sit, baby,” he instructs. 

You scoff and you slump back on your ass, pouting in disappointment that you’re not being included in whatever this was. 

“What’s the matter? Mad that I’m playing with your toy?” He mocks you, sticking his lip out in a pout that mimics your own. He emphases the words with a taunting squeeze of his hand around the tip, making Danny throw his head back so thick mane of curls cascade over his shoulders and the back of the couch.

He’s falling apart in your boyfriend’s hand and you can do nothing but be obedient and watch.

He sinks a knee onto the seat cushion beside Danny’s leg so he can lean in a tad further. When he’s close enough - close enough for Danny to catch the notes of Josh’s cologne - his tongue licks a long stripe across his jawline, causing a low moan to rumble deep in his chest. Josh doesn’t stop moving his hand as creates a trail of open-mouth kisses towards Danny’s ear.

He’s teasing him, pushing him just close enough to the cliff’s edge while making sure to pull back just enough to keep him suspended in this limbo.

“Fuck, Josh…” Danny whines, clawing at the upholstery of the couch with the dull edge of his nails. 

Josh bites at Danny’s jaw which sends a sharp hiss through his clenched teeth. Josh pulls back enough to look directly into his large, doe eyes, and says, “You don’t think I can make you feel as good as she does?” 

His voice is dripping with that cockiness you love so much. 

He doesn’t allow Danny the time needed to form a response. In a flash of a second, his tongue flicks across Danny’s upper lip, drawing him in. You’re stunned into silence as you witness your boyfriend slip his tongue into your friend’s parted mouth. 

You can tell that Danny’s still a little hesitant at first, but it doesn’t take him long before he melts completely into the kiss. Instead of losing himself, he starts the fight for dominance. With a pass of his tongue and a hand around Josh’s neck to pull him in, it’s enough to make your boyfriend moan back and fall forward a few inches. 

Danny is finding his confidence again, and breaks away, donning a playful smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

Josh looks down at him through his lashes, biting his lip between his teeth. Showing you that he’s willing to play into Danny’s taunt by switching up the movements of his hand - but not before he leans back and lets a bead of drool fall from his mouth onto Danny’s waiting cock. 

It shines in the dim lighting as Josh spreads the added wetness from tip to base, causing a violent shudder to roll through Danny’s body.

With his brows pulled together in concentration and lips parted, his hips lift up with each stroke of Josh’s hand in a desperate chase for more. You’re struggling internally beside them without being able to touch or have him in your mouth yourself. 

This is Josh’s version of a twisted punishment wrapped up like a nice little present. 

You remember all of Danny’s tells from that night. Everything is giving him away - from the raggedness of his uneven breaths, to the little whimpers and groans breaking from his chest, and especially with the way he can’t sit still as Josh hovers over him. 

It can’t be over so soon. Josh wouldn’t let that happen just yet. 

A pitchy whine breaks free as Danny grabs Josh’s wrist, but he doesn’t stop him. 

“Don’t act so surprised,” Josh croons smugly as he grabs Danny’s chin in his hand, and the sound makes you clench your thighs together in need. He leans in to whisper into Danny’s ear, “I took notes,” just as he bites his earlobe.

Just as Danny feels himself venture near his orgasm, Josh pulls his hand away, making a breathy laugh rasp loudly from your friend’s chest. He throws his hands up into his hair in frustration, pulling it away from his sweat-dampened forehead. 

Josh chuckles proudly to himself as stands and offers a hand to you, “We don’t want to steal all the fun from our sweet girl, do we?”

You take it and he helps you off the couch and down to your knees in front of him. The greediness that you’ve been pushing down starts to overtake you. He sweeps the hair from your face, holding his hand at the crown of your head while you work to unbutton his pants. That’s when you notice the small patch of wetted fabric on his right thigh.

He’s so deliciously hard that you’re sure it’s almost painful for him to keep it hidden away for this long like he has. You’re imagining that slight salty taste of the precum that has leaked from his cock when you palm over the dampness, purposefully avoiding the throbbing erection that so desperately needs your attention. 

You graze your hands down the length of his legs and up again as you hum, teasing him, “Someone got a little excited.”

He tugs the hair from your scalp, and warns with a harsh clip of his teeth, “Watch it.”

You look at him, batting your lashes while listening closely to Danny’s heavy breathing behind you. He smiles at you for a second, but quickly follows with a push of your head towards him. 

You loop your fingers around the waistband of his pants and pull down, and you’re welcomed with the fact he’s not wearing any underwear. 

Would you expect anything different?

He groans through a heavy sigh as soon as your fingers wrap around him. You stroke him oh-so-gently, ghosting over his cock with your lips to place a kiss to the inner point of his hip. 

You’ve missed this so much. 

You lick and suck on the delicate skin, admiring across his lean stomach. The kisses tickle him as they are placed between his hips, making him squirm until you nip a collection of marks with your teeth. 

Josh always wants you to tease him. It’s his favorite game to play, but right now he needs to feel your mouth around him. He’s been holding out for far too long; he has convinced himself he has forgotten what it’s like.

Of course he wouldn’t forget. There was nothing that could ever come close in comparison. 

He bucks his hips forward, and clamps his eyes shut while releasing a low growl with a new air of dominance, “Suck it. Don’t keep me waiting.”

You smirk to yourself, but obey the demand by bringing his cock to your open lips. You give a few teasing kisses just for good measure before you lick around right at the spot where the tanned skin of his shaft meets the rosy pink tip. He’s been keeping himself rather silent until you take him into your mouth to swirl your tongue around the head. 

You pull him from your mouth with a satisfied pop! You giggle as you pump your fist around him, “Like that?”

He looks down at you through half-closed lids with that crooked smile, “Fuck... you’re such a brat.”

In the past, he would have let you take control, giving you all the time in the world to make him feel good at your own pace. But tonight he is impatient with you given all the rules you’ve broken. Once you have him back in your mouth, he pushes himself into the back of your throat in one powerful thrust with his hands tangled into your hair. 

You gag around him, but you keep him there nestled deep where he belongs. 

“Jesus Christ, Josh!” You hear Danny blurt out behind you. 

Josh is quick to answer, nearly breathless already, “She’s fine, isn’t she?” He taps your cheek with his fingers along with the question, confident you would stop him in a second if things got too much for you. 

You nod with him still in your mouth and you start to bob your head slowly to build up your rhythm. He turns the two of you enough to give Danny the perfect view. 

Just to show him what you can handle. 

The first time this little arrangement happened, he had blessed Danny by sitting back and letting you take care of his best friend, but now it was his turn.

Now this is the punishment - to remember that moment and have it so close in his grasp but still not being able to have it. Danny wraps his hand around himself to satiate the need, imagining every little detail from that night as he watches you on your knees. 

You can’t look to see what he’s doing because of the tears that have started to cloud your vision and wet your lashes. You’re stuck trying to imagine what's happening by listening to him, but you’re finding it’s too hard with your own sounds masking over him. . 

Meanwhile as he towers above you, Josh is fighting the overwhelming urge to just fuck your face, and he’s starting to lose that battle.

With his hands wound tightly into the tresses of your hair, the thrusts become more aggressive as he slams himself into the back of your throat. 

And just like the good girl you are, you take him. 

But your jaw is aching, and drool has started to drip freely from the corners of your mouth down to your chin. Your lungs are burning, silently screaming in a frantic need for a real breath that you’ve been denied.

He releases the grip on you just in time before you have to tap his leg.

He still groans in protest when you have to pull yourself off of him to catch your breath, but you’re still connected to him through the thin string of saliva starting from your lips. You bring your fingers up to wipe your mouth, and decide to mutter the praise that you know always makes him weak, “You’re just so big, Joshy.”

He would deny later how his knees nearly buckled under him when he heard those words. You lean back on your heels to look up at him to see that smirk you knew would be there. 

You’ve won him over. You can see it with the special glint in his eye and with the way he rakes in his bottom lip. 

He taps your lips with the tip of his cock that is still slick from your mouth against your lips, and he breathes, “Yeah? You think so?”

You reply only with an eager nod. 

“Don’t tell me you’re calling it quits now, princess.”

You shake your head and utter a faint, “No.” 

He rolls his hips forward, sliding himself along your flattened tongue once your mouth opens again, “Mmm, that’s my good girl.”

Josh quickly finds a rhythm he’s satisfied with. Danny can no longer sit back and just watch the two of you. He tests another boundary by grazing his hand across your shoulders to sweep away the hair that  has fallen out of Josh’s grasp.

Seeing this, Josh releases all for him to hold. To have both of their hands on you like this is threatening to distract you entirely. 

Josh doesn’t stop there. He places his hand over Danny’s, the one that’s keeping the hair from your face in a makeshift ponytail. The resistance of it lets him push into the back of your throat just a little deeper. 

You’ve broken so many rules tonight that you just want to redeem yourself to him; to fight back the limitations of your body. You couldn’t possibly survive another week if he holds out on you again, but you’re being pushed to the very brink as the seconds tick on  by. 

He lets go of Danny's hand, and the tips of his fingers graze beneath your chin, lifting your face with a caring nudge so you’re no longer treating him to the pleasure of your mouth. The pad of his thumb rubs across your swollen, wet bottom lip as he looks down at you in admiration. 

Josh bends down and takes your hands in his to bring you up to your feet, supporting you as you balance yourself on your shaky legs. You wince from the soreness coming from your knees that you have been able to ignore until now.  

You’re a little out of it still as you catch your breath, but he turns you to face away from him. He brushes the hair from your shoulder to place hot kisses along the bare skin and you catch the sight of Danny still seated on the couch.

It’s really the first time you have looked into each other’s eyes since he first walked into the living room tonight. The deep coffee-colored irises are carrying the same look of desire and longing, but now with the new touches of jealousy that wasn’t quite there before. 

Josh sits on the couch with his hands still placed around your waist. He kisses the small of your back before leading you onto his lap, taking the time you need to find the right position. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he takes his other hand to his cock that’s pressing up between your legs. 

You brace yourself as he coats the head through your slick, and he slips effortlessly through your folds. He pushes himself to your entrance, letting you take the control of lowering yourself onto him.

Josh pushes himself to the hilt, earning a sinful cry from you. It’s been a long time since he has felt this, too. So with the way your mouth made him feel with how your walls are wrapping tightly around him, he can’t help the pitchy whine that breaks free. 

Danny finally stands to his feet and starts to undress in front of you. He reaches above and takes a handful of his t-shirt from between his shoulder blades to pull it over his head in one swift motion. He takes another step forward and brings his hands to the band of his jeans, and whips out the belt from the loops and tosses it across the floor. This whole time his cock is still out in the open with the zipper of his pants pulled down. 

He kicks his boxers and jeans off just as he stands before you. You reach out to him, taking a hold of his hip to bring him in closer. With your open hand you feel across his stomach that’s twitching under your palm. You pet over each dip and rise of his ribs as he takes in steadying breaths, traveling to the trail of coarse, dark  hair leading from his navel down. 

He leans down to kiss you and you are able to taste yourself on his soft lips. He is much gentler than Josh was with you as he teases the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip. You welcome him the second you feel it, taking the role of being the greedy one. 

Josh’s fingers nudge into your jaw so you break away thinking that he was wanting to kiss you but he didn’t. To your surprise, you weren’t pulled away from Danny for that reason. 

You thought he was going to kiss you but instead, he pulls in Danny from the back of his neck. It takes Danny off guard as well, but he welcomes it. 

Josh purrs in pleasure, breaking the kiss, “She tastes sweeter on your lips.”

Danny whines on Josh’s full lips and mumbles a desperate plea, “Please…can I feel her too? Please, Josh?”

A grin spreads across Josh’s mouth when he realizes he has Danny right where he wants him, “She is addicting, isn’t she?”  

Danny can’t help but let out a pitiful whimper in response. 

Josh caresses Danny’s cheek with a sweep of his knuckles, “You’re just as pretty as she is when you beg.”

Danny takes that as permission and bends down to wrap his hands around your thighs and lifts you up in a fluid

motion, bringing you around his waist. You instantly lock yourself around him in fear that you might fall, but you feel secure once Danny has a stronger hold on you. 

You remember this feeling, being in his arms again. However, the last time you didn’t feel his cock pressing up against you like it is now. He’s waited long enough to have you that he doesn’t waste the time to tease you before lining himself with your pussy. 

You think for a second to brace again  for it when you feel the head slide effortlessly back and forth through your folds, but the feeling of his lips attaching himself to your skin as he buries his face into your neck takes all your focus. You’re still so wet, and now that you’ve been stretched out by Josh - he slips right in without much resistance. 

At least he does at first until you’re greeted with the familiar sting of him bottoming out. You do your best to lift your hips while he tries to thrust up, but it proves to be useless. It takes all your strength just to hold onto his shoulders and keep your legs locked tightly around his back. 

He walks back towards the couch, staggering a step or two but manages to carry you far enough to lay you across the cushions. You melt into the furniture, embracing the new comfort of his weight of his body laying on top of you. 

He takes a second to find the right angle with his legs nudging underneath your thighs, but soon enough his hips begin rocking into you. The intoxicating warmth of his cock filling you up takes you over and your legs wrap around his waist once more to pull him even deeper. Your hand finds a place around the bicep of the arm that’s holding above you and you feel the muscle flex with each thrust. 

He’s measured with his movements, but you’re not sure if it’s because he’s already so close or if it’s because he wants to be careful with you - or that it's a combination of the two. 

You glance up to watch his face. You want to take in how his brows are sewn tightly together in concentration, causing a little crease between them. You bask in his pants sending warm puffs of air past his lips onto your skin. 

It’s like he’s forgotten about everything else but just you. Just the feeling and embrace of you. 

Josh is quick to remind him that it isn’t just the two of you. His presence is felt as he walks up from behind you, and you search for him with an open hand above your head until you feel his bare stomach. 

Your knuckles drag along the skin, making him release a pleased sigh. “You miss me?”

Danny sits up, disconnecting your legs around his back so he can lift you up farther onto his lap. He curses under his breath at the new angle, captivated with the way you’re lying beneath him. 

 Josh sees the admiration in his friend’s eyes for you. “You should see yourself, baby,” he praises and by the raised pitch of his voice, you can hear that he’s getting close.

 “You really are fucking gorgeous taking us like this,” Danny agrees, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit.

The strokes of your hand on Josh are listless and uneven. He takes over for you, pumping his first over his cock with an expert hand. It doesn’t take much before he finds himself in the throws of his release.

He curses under his breath with a final thrust through his hand, “Holy shit.” 

At first you flinch the spurts of his hot cum covers across your naked breasts, but only for a second as you welcome the reward. 

Danny falls forward into you, and you’re startled by the feeling of his tongue licking across your hardened nipple, tasting the mess that is left there. It yanks you from your daze to see Josh holding back Danny’s hair from his face. 

You can’t even begin to form a thought from what you experience before he swipes his finger across your other breast and brings it to your mouth. You take it in without question, licking the familiar taste of Josh on your tongue, sucking around his finger as much as you can. 

Danny’s eyes roll back from the sensation of your mouth as he loses the last shred of control he might have been holding on to. He’s not paying attention to rules, to the arrangement, to any of the boundaries that may or may not be in place. 

He’s accepting the fact he’s falling apart while deep inside you. He forgets he needed to pull out. That he should finish on your stomach or even your chest to mix with what Josh has left. 

But he doesn’t. 

In a second before either one of you could react, he releases inside your soaked cunt, filling you up with the warmth of his cum in a couple staggered thrusts of his hips. 

That was not the plan.

For what seems like hours, the three of you sit in silence as you collectively come down from the height of your pleasure. You are overcome with the feeling of Danny’s release starting to leak from you in addition to what’s been left across your chest. Danny hasn’t looked at either of you, opting to keep his head down as he regains his composure. 

He withdraws from you and you know he's processing what just happened because that’s where your own mind is at. With the stiff, rigidness of his body, it’s obvious that he’s nervous to look up at Josh. 

He finally speaks to break the silence, but stutters over the apology, “Josh, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I know she’s yours and, b-but I just couldn’t-“

Josh cuts him off with his fingertips brushing across Danny’s cheek to shush him. “‘Shhh.”

Danny looks up at him wearing a face or confusion from the reaction. 

Josh lets out a fucked-out giggle and sighs, “I think it’s safe to say that she might be yours now, too.”

TAGLIST:

@josiee-gvf @gabyvanfleet @ageofbrokenbells @maddie-van-fleet @gretasmokerising @prophetofthedune @gardensgatedaisy @lek-gvf @baguettejuliette @ashabeannn @daniellefersblog @seventieswhore @lo-pe-ak @sammiejane22 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @pr41sethemoon @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanfleas @freckled-wonder @gvfrry @myownparadise96 @jordierama @mywaykiszka @jmksbuttsupremacy @weightofdreamz @maverick-rose @brokenbellz @jakekiszmyass @milkgemini @sarakay-gvf @idk-anymore50 @kels-gvf @strangersimp @richjaaasss @greta-van-chaos @shesawomaninadream @joshkiszkashikingboots @brinlygvf @alexxavicry @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @sammyslappers @lvnterninthenight @josh-iamyour-mama @ksmiz711 @garbagevanfleet

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#gvf fic #gvf smut #josh kiszka #fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #josh gvf #Danny wagner smut #Danny gvf #Josh x Danny smut #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x reader #danny wagner x y/n #danny wagner x reader #Danny wagner x you #Danny wagner fanfiction

[lovecanbesostrange]

Please know that since yesterday I am mentally trapped in these two panels. There is actually a lot I will miss Krakoa for, but I also felt a bit of resentment throughout the era and this family is a big reason why. NOW that we are in the last stretch of burning it all down and the new X-launch is in reach, we'll get this wedding special. And we finally have all four together in a panel. NOW?! I bought X-Men Unlimited #4 in either fall of '94 or spring '95, solely because of the cover. 30 years of waiting. Let me live in this moment for a bit.

Look at what they are doing with the art! Oh sure, Mystique and Nightcrawler are the blue ones. Pair up Destiny and Rogue next to that to make them look similar enough as well. Only for my brain to scream "but the personalities are the other way around!!!!!!!!". Irene and Kurt work on faith and believe in possibilities and reaching out to be better. Raven and Anna Marie typing this out makes me feel weird are the ones who will kill a bitch and say they will darken their soul so others don't have to. Plus there is the element that they both have lived more than one life and their sense of self is distorted .

They've come a long way, okay?!

Yes this is exactly what it looks like. For plot reasons Nightcrawler was too weak to teleport and dangling off a cliff next to Mystique. And of course Rogue could only save one and before she made a decision Mystique said "I make this for you" and let go. I still like to believe she flipped them the bird when she fell. Because she is Mystique. "HaHa! Take this, you think I'm the worst mother ever, but you will have to live with a moment of nobility from me!" (Also Destiny knew this would come, and she fucking knows there is something good inside of Mystique. It just comes out... different. And needs very specific circumstances.)

Apart from X-Men Evolution (and the X-Men Forever alternate history comic with its very special vibes), we have never gotten any bigger acknowledgement of this family. And Irene has been cut out. Either conveniently on account of being dead, or because she's an old lady and clearly just a gal pal, ahem. (It's also very funny to me to go back to their first appearances, where the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants has the biggest Three Stooges energy ever. I needed Mystique, Destiny, Rogue, Pyro, Blob and Avalanche to have a drinking contest on Krakoa. That is what Krakoa was supposed to be about!! You needed to give us 200% domestic nonsense, fun and games. So it would hurt everybody when it was inevitably taken away. EVERYBODY needed to find happiness in that place in unconventional ways.)

Sadly not my original thought (I don't have those), but recently I read some comment where somebody said that with Irene being his bio-mother, Kurt should have inherited a type of precog-sense, a sorta spidey-sense for teleportation. A natural ability that he won't teleport into an obstacle. And I would be so on board with that. (Also funny, because Ms Marvel had that type of sense and I could pull up panels where Nightcrawler tried to trigger that in Rogue.) Would it be weird to add that now? Sure. But also super cute and helpful.

My deepest gratitude goes out to the fanartists who have doodled and sketched and painted cute family moments for them out of time. Now canon can catch up. Imagine their dinner conversations. N: "Logan is my best friend." M: "Oh, that reminds me there is this blue furball running around with his and my powers. I don't even remember if we ever had sex or not, we're so close in age and have these memory gaps." N: "Mutter, nein!" D: "You should ask him out, you two would make a cute couple. Trust me." R: "You're setting up Nightcrawler with Wolverine and keep giving me grief over Gambit?" M: "He speaks too much French! Wolverine might be Canadian, but at least he's not a Franco-Canadian!" N: "So I couldn't date Northstar?"

Do not get me wrong though. Mystique and Destiny are horrible people and they will stab others in the back. They have worked for the government, they have plotted assassinations of government people. They have fought alongside and against the X-Men. I don't want them tamed or be reasonable. I want their mess. I want them as anti-villains. Because they don't do heinous things for nothing. They like to create less horrible murder events than what could be... some writers just liked to go overboard with the scheming and forgot the sympathic undertones, which I want to cling to. And we deserved a time of peace on Krakoa. Truly imagine a Mystique who was happy on Krakoa. And the absolut batshit villainous energy when it's burned down against her will... now THAT would have been something. Instead of baking resentment into the foundation.

#X-Men #Rogue #Nightcrawler #Mystique #Irene Destiny Adler #wednesday spoilers #sorry I'm so sorry but I can't get over this... #ramblings

[bluginkgo]

Quick announcement (before the diarrhea of information):

I'm gonna go on a semi-hiatus for a week or so. I'll still be around, just not posting any drawings. Need to replenish my energy and drawing reserves cause I'm dead >_<

Sleep behind scenes!

So... Ginkgo why the hell did this take you so long? Sorry, sorry 😅 Here's what happened. I got burned out after like 10 pages (specifically the manor backgrounds killed me, plus having the full gang in the story) and then got sick and was not feeling all that great. Working through the burn out, sick, AND college work on top was quite hard not gonna lie though, but I wanted to finish it ^^

Alright, now as for little unnecessary Easter eggs, I added as nods to the show and my other interests. ^_^

1. Undertale save point. Undertale had me sucked in for a good long while, and for some odd reason decided to re-emerge in a form of the star save. Made it purple for Uzi's effect over N. She made him more rebellious, so he started to question why is it his memories and dreams are strange/corrupted/missing instead of just going with the flow.

2. Ep3 nod. V and N have history, history that I wish we get to see. V was nicer, kinder, in my opinion, prior to the absolute solver going rampage. So it makes sense for them to have some sort of friendship at the VERY least. So I decides to give it a small spin to it too. A direct quote from ep3 ^_^

3. Ep 2 + 5 nod. I kinda pulled the moment when James dismissed N from ep2 together with events that follow after N leaves library in ep5. Chronologically, these events don't fit together, seeing as ep2 is when N first meets Cyn and ep5 is when she's already set up the massacre. But this is exactly what I was going for. N's memories are jumbled at best, so I took liberty in mixing, matching, and editing his memories just as the admin program would probably.

4. Absolute Solver symbols nod. My chats with @absolute-solver (sorry for annoying you with tag 😅) made me realize that the absolute solver ought to have more presence now. It's activated and running systems in the background for Uzi. Whiiiiich means that drawing absolute solver should start now. BUT, it's rudimentary at best. Symbols don't really make sense and are not completed for most of the time. Not until Uzi at least sees the error message in ep2, when she truly starts questioning what that weird symbol on her visor is. I headcanon that N does know or at least feel that the absolute solver symbol is familiar, hence the little comment.

5. Absolute Solver Nori. Why is there so many absolute solver Nori around? I'm certain she went back to normal, just like in pictures Khan showed us in ep4 post core collapse. But I connected the solvers together here. Uzi's absolute solver string is up and running, and because the solver is a hivemind, it'd connect the memories and warp them a little. So that's why Uzi's doodle of her and Nori at the end (and during memory recall) was so full of absolute solver. It's slowly taking root, whether she wants it to or not.

Personal touches/added/cut ideas:

N's tail wrapping around Uzi like a hug. Originally, Uzi was supposed to look more nervous, but not for the reasons you might think. I cut the nervous look to a more upset look so it wouldn't be confused for fear. Uzi's never scared of N (yes, I don't count ep2 either, that was a lot of events at once and very little time to process them). The nervous look was more of a "Why are you butting in?" type, you know? Being a loner makes you cautious, so when N prods at feelings, I figured Uzi would be a bit defensive.

Cyn is fully rendered and yet I glitched her so much I felt bad. So here's full absolute solver Cyn eldrich monster thingy. ^_^

I pulled a Hazbin hotel moment. Did you see it? Abracadabra GONE! All the scraps from first couple pages with NUzi chatting POOFED out of the existence. Did I get lazy and tired? Yes, that was the tell tale sign of burn out, when I stopped keeping track of background details and just kept the pod.

These progress shots show pretty well how the story boarding goes and how I change my mind too easily. 😅 storyboard is still as much of a mess as ever, sketch shows you I was gonna keep Uzi's hat, but decided against it in final product. I figured this. Nori gave Uzi the jacket whenever Uzi got a bigger body + hair. These are the same jacket and hair Uzi has in canon. Uzi's body is just upgraded again and her hair gets shorter in that regard. The jacket would be big on her, and cover her hands, but what's up with the fluff if I draw canon jacket more spiky? And where's the death battery drawing? I headcanon Uzi drew those on once she got into the angsty teenager stage. The jacket is more spiky from wear and tear.

Fun fact! You can sorta tell who's gonna show up in the comic by what memes I post prior. Here's some examples ^_^ Cyn showed up, and that was first practice with maid outfits and Cyn's eldrich form. Closely followed by manor gang, the second/final form of maid and butler outfits and prime practice for those scenes. This example is a bit spoiler for a meme I'm working on right now! I've never drawn Nori before, so I quickly sketched out the idea and continued on with the comic (otherwise, I'd lose my steam and procrastinate on it again). Memes are filler for you guys while I work on the actual projects (comics), and along the way, they give me practice and change in drawing style ^_^

Is it a coincidence that this comic is called Sleep with the release of a certain horror game? Actually, yeah pure coincidence 😅 I had this drafted allll the way back in November, and didn't take particular interest in poppy playtime until I saw lanky boi, which was actually during a stream I watched on release day of the chapter.

(I didn't know tumblr, or at least the phone app, had a tag limit of 30, BOY was I surprised @brookiedaaroacecookie that must have been THE tag city, sorry 😅)

Next comic is Loneliness 1 and 2

This one is split into 2 POVs from both Uzi and N side, thus its 2 separate comics. That one will be more NUzi centered, too, a slight angst and comfort spin to it. That will come... sometime. I have a few more projects I wanna finish up with prior to starting on these guys ^_^

Why are you still reading this? Omg, have a cookie 🍪 you made it. Have a nice day now ^_^

#murder drones #glitch productions #uzi doorman #murder drones fanart #murder drones uzi #murder drones serial designation n #serial designation n #serial designation v #murder drones n #murder drones v #bluginkgo's comics #the absolutesolver #murder drones absolute solver #murder drones cyn

[imnotasuperhero]

Some feelings, they can travel too.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, the greatests love stories come to an end.

TW: Cancer, grieving, major character death. A doze of smut just to add to the angst (I set it in cursive, so you can scroll past it if you don’t mind the little bits of feels)

A/N: My dudes. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m here once again with a request that was too hard to decline since it hits home and I thought it might work for some overdue catharsis. I cried my eyes out resulting in a headache, so pardon any mistakes I made. I’ve been working on this for several hours and babysitting a 3 y/o is no calm job. Hope you enjoy this over 6k monster of mine (I reached anotehr milestone and I couldn’t be prouder) And like I say, if I hurt, it’s only fair you do, too.

Looking up at the imponent building in front of her, Wanda readjusted the straps of her backpack and followed the commands of her twin, doing some breathing exercises to calm her erratic heart.

Being the new kid at school was never something Wanda enjoyed, no matter how many times she had to transfer thanks to her dearest father. She hated feeling so small and the fact that she wasn’t the best at making friends did nothing to ease her anxiety.

“Come on, Wanda!” Pietro grunted annoyed, backing his steps and grabbing her hand to drag her along.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Wanda sighed, trying to escape his tight grip to no avail.

“I do. And if we don’t hurry, we’re gonna miss our first period.” At the annoyance tinting his voice, Wanda decided to shut her mouth and follow him to the reception.

After getting each of their class schedules, the twins headed back through the path they walked.

“Okay, your classroom is at the next hall, third-”

“I heard what the lady said. I know where to go,” Wanda rolled her eyes at the need to punch her exasperating brother.

“Okay then, I’ll see you in the next period,” Pietro kissed the top of her head, trotting towards his own class.

Looking through the small window of the door, Wanda could feel the baby hairs of her neck spiking up at the new faces unaware of her presence.

‘Please, may this year be nice,’ She begged silently to whoever God was out there.

Wanda had to remind herself not to run the small distance that separated the teacher’s desk from the door at the numerous heads turning to her simultaneously.

“Hi,” Wanda handed the white schedule to Mr. Chadman -as she read in the tag at the door. “I’m Wanda.”

The old man inspected the paper for a few seconds and nodded quietly. “Welcome, Wanda. Please be seated and enjoy.” He gave her a smile that reminded her of her late grandpa.

Looking over the classroom, she walked hunchedly to the only seat free, beside some girl with unique glasses.

“Hi,” said girl gave her a toothy smile, making Wanda smile. “Name’s Y/N,” she turned back to doodle something on the blank page of the boy behind her before fully turning to the front. Her head leaned to her expectantly.

“I’m Wanda,” the brunette mumbled as she took a seat and slowly took her books, as if trying to seem unbothered by the stare burning the side of her body.

“It’s not all the time we get new students,” you said in a whisper, for Mr. Chadman had started the lesson already. “Where are you from?”

“Um… Sokovia,” Wanda braced herself expecting the typical questions that followed, but gasped when you surprised her.

“That’s near the Czech Republic, right?” You asked thoughtfully.

“Yep,” Wanda couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this won’t be a hard year, after all.

The rest of the school day was spent with minor inconveniences, except for Pietro’s teasing when he found out she might have made a friend.

Thought that was confirmed when she heard a familiar voice calling over her. 

Looking to her left, she saw you standing on a table waving at her with that characteristic smile she learned to like.

“Hi,” Wanda smiled timidly at the 6 smiling faces staring at her.

“Guys, she’s Wanda. Wands, they’re… my friends,” you giggled sitting back down, scooting over to leave room for Wanda.

“Natasha,” the redhead spoke, sending daggers to you, to which you just threw a small piece of bread at her. “Nice to meet you,” she now turned to Wanda, showing her white smile.

“How’s school treating you?” The tall, brunette boy sitting adjacent to her spoke next. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

Before Wanda could answer you gasped, earning your friend's attention.

“Right! Wands, he’s from near your country,” you smiled brightly, almost excited.

“Wait. Where you from?” His blue eyes lighted up expectantly.

“Sokovia,” Wanda dried her sweaty hands on her jeans, gathering all the confidence she could muster.

“Not that near, but I'll take it!” Bucky raised his hand.

Laughing at the glee plastered on his face, Wanda high-fived him.

The passing days had Wanda relaxing by the minute as it seemed she had met the right people thanks to you. Granted you all could be a little too much for her to handle, but she was expectant of what this school year could bring to her.

What she didn’t expect though, was discovering you in a new light as you busied yourself with a well-used notepad. Be it because of curiosity or something she wasn’t familiar with, she wasn’t able to take her eyes off you for the past few minutes.

“What are you working on?” Wanda scooted over, sitting beside you on your bed. “Seems like your life depends on it.”

Pausing for a second, you sighed calmly as you turned to look at her. “Remember how you told me you loved to sing but you sucked at writing your own songs?” You asked cheerfully.

“Yes,” Wanda’s face contorted into one of suspicion. 

“Well, I’m finishing a song you might like to-”

“You what?” Wanda all but took the notepad from your hands, reading through the black letters contrasting against the white pages.

“As I was saying, I thought you’d like to participate in next month’s talent show.

“I- No.” Wanda shook her head. “Not happening.”

“But why,” you whined, taking her hand in yours and Wanda felt an electricity wave travel up her arm. “You have a beautiful voice and it’s unfair the world doesn’t know it.”

“I appreciate your willingness in sharing your talent with me and I love this song already. But I don’t sing in public.”

“You really like my song?” You asked, your eye shining with something Wanda couldn’t put her finger on.

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing!” Wanda smiled proudly.

“Thanks,” you looked down, but Wanda could notice the rosy tint in your cheeks. But as soon as the shyness came, your stance was taken over by mischief.

“Tell you what,”

“Oh, no. I know that look and I don’t want-”

“But Wanda! I promise it’s a good thing!” You pleaded and Wanda could only sigh.

“Okay,” you paused confidently. “You sing this song in the talent’s show and I show you the tons of songs I’ve written.” 

“Absolutely not.” Wanda nodded in the negative repeatedly.

“But Waaaaaands!” You whined deeply, conjuring the best pout you could, and Wanda only raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Besides, you dream of being a famous singer,” you continued when the silence had stretched for way too long. “How you’d make it if you don’t get out of your comfort zone?”

Wanda hated when you used her future to have it your way. But if she was being honest, she knew the day would come sooner or later, so she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

“You better show me all of them,” Wanda laughed joyfully when you threw yourself at her, hugging her.

“I knew you’d come to your senses.” You spoke toothily, looking down at her comfortable smile.

But said smile turned into a thin line when Wanda realized how close you were. So close she could feel your small breaths colliding against her lips like a needed breeze on a hot summer day.

Poking your side, Wanda scurried from under you. “You’re squeezing me,” 

“Blandy,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up.

“I- That’s not a wo-”

“I’m the creator here,” you shrugged her off to which Wanda poked her tongue at you.

The following weeks passed in a blur as you both worked on the song Wanda would sing. Long nights on the weekends turned into a constant between you two and Wanda couldn’t help the peace she felt when you were by her side. Despite the bubbly, -hyperactive at times, charming persona you held, you were like a soothing balm to her conflicted insides, silently healing the wounds her demons left her with.

“I can’t do it.” Wanda panicked, turning to her best friend.

“You can and you will,” you grabbed her by the shoulders, making sure her eyes stayed locked with yours, making Wanda hold her breath for a little longer than necessary. “I believe in you, Wands. You’ll do great!”

“What if-”

“Nope. I’m forbidding you to go there.” You chastised. “You said you trusted me, right?”

“Always,” she answered nervously.

“Then believe in yourself, babe. You’re capable of amazing things if you just cross the line,” you smiled comfortingly, fighting Wanda’s inner shadows away.

With those words, Wanda hugged you before she stepped onto the stage after hearing her name, adjusting her guitar trying to avoid the public’s eyes.

Looking at you one last time with your supportive smile grazing your features, Wanda faced the crowd with her eyes closed as her fingers played the right chords expertly.

Picture a place where it all doesn't hurt

Where everything's safe and it doesn't get worse

Oh my

We see through bloodshot eyes

Wanda’s soft voice accompanied the soothing notes from her guitar, creating a spell that hypnotized everyone in the room.

Jump with me, come with me, burn like the sun

We'll talk, then we'll cry, then we'll laugh 'til we're done

Oh my

It's like we're out our minds

We've been runnin' for our lives

We've been hidin' from the light

We've been far too scared to fight

For what we want tonight

Wanda dared to open her eyes as she gained the confidence needed and smiled something proud at the faces full of calm in front of her.

Close your eyes and leave it all behind

Go where love is on our side

It's a trust fall, baby

It's a trust fall, baby

By the time Wanda realizes she’s been staring at you, the last few chords come to its end. Feeling her heart burning from something she wasn’t sure of, Wanda played the last note smiling as everyone clapped and cheered at her. The adrenaline of the moment took over her, making her run to you after she walked off the stage.

“That was amazing!” Wanda giggled, closing her arms tightly around you.

“You are amazing,” you stood there, patiently holding her.

Breaking the hug, Wanda looked at your eye and felt the fire inside her burn stronger at the utter pride she found.

Before she could react, her lips touched yours, like a magnetic force dragging you together.

“I’m sorry,” she freaked when she realized what she just did. But the dreadful feeling disappeared when this time, you leaned forward, kissing her painfully slowly.

Smiling through the kiss, Wanda encircled her arms around your neck as you hugged her waist, bringing your bodies impossibly closer.

“Let me take you on a date?” You smiled when you parted for much-needed air.

“I would love that,” Wanda smiled as calmly as you, hugging you one last time hiding her face in the process, as she heard the voices of your friends nearing at a fast pace with the promise of celebrating after the show.

The stars shining over reminded you how small you were. Your small body was nothing compared to the cold rocks twinkling up in the black sky and a pang wounded your heart as Wanda shifted beside you, feeling the right side of your face burning under her intense gaze.

“Can I ask something?” Wanda’s voice was barely audible, afraid to break the calm.

Turning your head, you leaned forward pecking her lips. “Go ahead.”

“Why there’s a tinted side on your glasses?”

Closing your eyes, you sighed defeatedly. You knew it was too good to be true. Yet, you wished for the ask to never come.

“I’m blind in my left eye,” you pursed your lips, awaiting a reaction.

The gasp that escaped Wanda’s lips had you bracing yourself for the worst. You weren’t ready to give up on this living dream.

Before you could dwell too much into your sadness, Wanda’s hand cupped your cheek, as if inspecting her following actions were safe.

The burning sensation you felt on your left cheek started to prickle upwards your face as slender fingers were dragged agonizingly softly -a featherlight touch, really. Your breath stopped mid-exhale as Wanda lifted your glasses, caressing the skin beside your eye. You were thankful for the dark of the night around you, making it harder for Wanda to notice what could easily shine with the light.

As Wanda’s intense gaze shifted from one eye to the other, you closed your eyes to stop the forming tears. But what happened next had you choking a cry as Wanda kissed your broken eye and you could only wrap your arms around her waist as you hid your face in the crook of her neck, trying unsuccessfully to hide your pain.

“Detka,” Wanda mumbled with her lips against your head.

Seeing you did not move, Wanda just stood there, holding you at a weird angle that provided you the comfort you needed and you silently thanked her. You weren’t ready for this part of your story to see the light and being honest, you didn’t think you’d ever will.

“Detka,” the brunette tried once again after a few moments. This time, you complied. And the look you saw in those green eyes had you inhaling sharply.

“What happened?” She asked, combing some locks off your forehead.

“I had an accident when I was little,” you lied. “I was helping my dad with a project and a splinter got in my eye, leaving it useless.” You spoke confidently, having used the lie for so long.

“It suits you,” Wanda winked and you laughed something small, appreciating the fact she didn’t pity you. Or that she didn’t show it if she did.

“Can I have my glasses again, please?” 

“You can,” Wanda carefully placed your glasses in its place, kissing your nose to move to your lips.

Humming at the contact, you allowed yourself to relax for the time being. More than ever, you decided to live your life the best way you could without thinking of the looming ghost over you.

It was a Wednesday when the fact you were a few weeks away from graduating high school hit you. And with that, the rainy day felt even more gloomy as the thought of another milestone so close, yet so far away given the condition you were in.

But that thought was pushed to the back of your mind when the honking car outside signaled your ride had arrived.

You had planned to go bowling with your friends as the last gathering before finals started the following week, determined to cherish every single second you had with the people you loved.

That’s how you found yourself fighting with your left shoe as the lights were dimmed.

“Let me,” Natasha squatted in front of you, making a quick job of your shoelaces.

“Thanks,” you smiled toothily, hooking your arms together as you walked to your friends a few feet away rooting for each one of the Maximoff twins in some game you didn’t care to pay attention to.

Once everyone was in your booth, you started the game as Pietro decided he was going first.

The afternoon was filled with laughter and playful banter and you couldn’t be happier having your friends and your girlfriend by your side.

“You’re up,” Bucky cheered you. “Show speedster how we do it,” he winked, causing you all to laugh while Pietro grumbled something you couldn’t hear.

Walking to the line, you chose the purple ball and measured your distance with precision. Balancing forth and back until you felt confident enough, you sprint to the limit line throwing the rolling ball as hard as you could.

“Wooh!” Wanda and Natasha cheered as you dropped all the pines in one shoot.

You smiled proudly as you walked back to your friends, waiting for Pietro’s commentary.

“Pretty impressive for having one eye,” he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed that you were leading the charts.

“Who says I just have one?” You frowned, hiding the giggle in your voice. “Tony gave me a bionic eye.” You shrugged, earning a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ from the youngsters.

“What!” Pietro looked shocked at the boy adjacent to him.

“What can I say? I like helping my friends,” Tony high-fived you as you sat beside him.

That night you held onto the toilet bowl as if your life depended on it with Wanda holding your short hair up in a ponytail as you had woken up with a sudden need to empty your guts.

“What can I do?” Wanda asked on the verge of tears as she never stopped the circling patterns on your back.

“It’s okay, love.” You sighed deeply as you stood up on wobbly legs. “It was the fried egg, probably,” you opened the mouthwash and gargled the nasty taste away.

Turning around, you couldn’t help but hug your girlfriend at seeing her so small. It was at that exact moment that you knew you did good in not telling her the truth.

“I don’t like seeing you sick,” the brunette pouted.

“Having you by my side makes it bearable,” you kissed her nose. Something that had become usual between you both whenever the other needed reassurance.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” you encircled her waist with your right arm, walking her to the bed.

The next minutes were spent in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth. Until the air around you started to weigh.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You turned to the body beside you.

“You think we’ll make it?” Wanda’s voice trembled and you felt your heart constrict at the not-so-positive prospect of your life.

Raising your hand to her face, you allowed your fingers to caress her soft skin, tracing her features with the lightest of touch, admiring her natural beauty and the dreamy way her eyes shone with the moonlight casted over her.

“It’s just college, baby,” you reassured her, pecking her lips.

“Far away schools,” she pouted something that had you all mushy.

Pausing, you decided to bite the bullet. “I was waiting till graduation,” you sat up, rummaging through your nightstand until you found the black velvety box. 

You smiled softly at the choked gasp that left Wanda’s mouth as her eyes landed over the small square.

Opening the cube, you took out the small chain, holding it between your faces, absorbing all of Wanda’s emotion at that moment.

“Oh my,” Wanda grabbed the silver object, smiling watery at the pendants in her trembling hand.

“I know how much music means to you and is no secret it’s what bonded us,” you spoke calmly. “This is a reminder that no matter how far we are, we’ll always be connected.”

You quietly admired Wanda’s eyes glued to both musical notes, the eighth note hanging lower than the sixteenth note.

“Thank you,”

The sudden weight on top of you had you laughing as Wanda peppered your face with kisses while she repeated the same two words after every kiss.

“I love you,” the brunette cried with a smile before she locked your lips against hers in a searing promise. Of what, you didn’t know; but you surely won’t stop her for anything in the world.

But what started as an innocent kiss filled with promises of a future you might never see, shifted to something passionate that burned your body from the inside out and the clothes hugging your body started to suffocate you.

“Wands,” you moaned as your hands toyed with the end of her shirt.

The brunette sat quickly, discarding the clothing on the floor and you couldn’t help admiring the pale skin that invited you to emboss random patterns on its surface. And you did.

Your hands cupped her breasts, massaging them gently as you sat up to meet her lips, drawing out her moans.

At the tug on your shirt, you parted to take it off before you attacked her lips once again, grabbing her waist to guide her against your cunt, enjoying the every sinful sound that escaped her mouth.

Not having enough, you rolled over, landing on her as you started to trail wet kisses down her body, applying everything you learned during these three years, determined to allow her to remind you when your time had come. 

The primal moan she mouthed when you bite on her hip bone had your hunger increasing ten times. 

“Detka, please,” Wanda grunted in a gasp, bucking her hips up trying to find what she needed.

Grazing the tip of your nose against her mons pubis, you inhaled her intoxicating essence.

If the sound Wanda freed were sinful, the guttural sob she gifted you with when your tongue lapped at her folds had you in paradise.

Repeating the action once, then twice, you gathered as much wetness as you could, moaning between every lick. As if you licked your favorite lollipop after a bitter taste.

Deciding to finally give her what she wanted, your kisses ascended up, wetting every single patch of skin you could reach, smiling at the neediness of her voice.

“I need you,” she cried as she grabbed your head and brought you to her level, devouring your lips just to moan when she tasted herself.

Taking advantage of her dizzy state, you pumped three fingers inside of her as her head rolled back breathing something so sinful that you thought you’d been cursed for life, and you didn’t complain. Moving your digits in and out of her entrance at a slow pace you groaned at how tight she felt.

“You feel so good,” you praised. “Taking me so well.” Wanda could only moan at your words, too focused on matching your movements.

Sitting up, you stilled her with your free hand, never stopping your action as you looked down at her. The immaculate way in which her body writhed under you was something you could never forget. The perfect shifts in her face’s muscles with every pleasure you provided her had you wishing for your reality to change. You wanted nothing more than to live forever just to have her this way. A vulnerable mess under your touch, trusting you her soul.

Muffling a painful cry, you leaned over to kiss her devil’s lips, hoping the knot in your throat would go away.

“I love you forever,” you cried as you increased your pace, feeling her walls clenching around your fingers. Your hips pushed your hand deeper inside her as your fingers curled up, hitting the right spot.

“Oh, fuck.” Wanda cried arching her back, unaware of your inner turmoil.

“Cum for me, love,” you commanded, stilling your shivering voice.

She didn’t need much more than a few extra pumps to cum all over your fingers, panting her way down the high.

Opening her eyes, the lust in those green orbs turned into concern as she looked at you.

“Why the tears?” She asked, bringing you to lay on top of her.

‘I’m dying’ “I love you,” you sobbed, placing your ear on her chest, desperate to hear her heartbeats full of life. 

It was all so unfair. You deserved a lifetime with the love of your life. You deserve to have a family and to grow old with the woman that had stolen your heart out of the blue. You deserved to see her in white walking down the aisle. You deserved to see her achieve her dreams.

But all you had was a sand clock emptying itself by the minute and an excruciating pain taking over your stiff body. Breathing was becoming harder and harder as the will in you fought in vain to win a war you had lost time ago.

Wanda’s sobs joined yours as she hugged you tighter, unaware of the fact that the love of her life was nearing the end of her path.

The morning came and you were thankful Wanda didn’t comment on your breakdown from the previous night, for if she did, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep the lie much longer. You knew she deserved the know, but you also knew she’d be willing to glue herself by your side and give up on her desires, and you never wanted to be that person. She deserved to fly and you could only support her with pride.

The following weeks provided little time for you and Wanda to spend time together since finals were kicking all your asses. But Wanda consoled herself knowing that you all would celebrate after graduation, proud of having achieved a milestone together. That and the prospect of having you for herself the whole summer had her squeezing her fuel tank to no end.

To say all of you had nailed the exams was an understatement as your glasses clinked together on your designated booth.

“I can’t believe we did it, guys!” Natasha smiled toothily, proud of herself.

“Next step, a week off at my beach house,” Tony proposed, earning all of your cheers.

“You sure your parents will let us all together?” Steve raised an eyebrow, always the reasonable one.

“They will. Leave it to me,” Tony winked.

“Make sure you don’t bring any toys,” you smirked as everyone laughed at the memories of last summer’s escapade.

“You wound me,” Tony faked being hurt.

Wanda’s hand rested on your bare thigh, smiling peacefully as she enjoyed the banter between you all. 

Her mind took her back to the first day at school when she prayed before entering your classroom and she silently thanked all the gods out there for having you in her life. With your differences and disagreements, all of you conformed a tight-knotted group that she was sure would last a lifetime.

Kissing your cheek softly, she stood up with both your empty glasses in hand, walking to the bar for a refill.

“You’re Wanda, right?” A tall brunette took her out of her reverie.

“Yes,” Wanda frowned as she waited for her beers.

“I’m Maria. Maria Hill,” the lady introduced herself, stretching her hand. Once Wanda accepted it, she continued. “I saw you on stage the other day and I’ve been waiting to meet you,” her words had Wanda’s attention.

“I’m a music producer and I know how to spot talent,” she explained. “I’d like you to sing at the upcoming festival next month.” 

“Are you serious?” Wanda’s eyes opened wide at the offer the woman was giving her.

“Dead serious,” Maria nodded curtly. “If the public likes you, we can talk business.” She handed her a business card. “Call me if you’re interested.”

With that, the woman smiled politely and walked away, leaving Wanda in a frozen state until Tom called her name.

“Warm beer doesn’t taste good,” the young man smirked.

“Right. But did you hear what she said?” Wanda’s smile grew bigger by the second.

“The only way is up,” he winked before moving to another customer.

Wanda walked back to your booth in an ecstasy state after the short encounter. She could be signed up.

Feeling your eyes on her, she looked at you, unable to hide her happiness.

“I’ll tell you later,” she mumbled to you, kissing your cheek and you smiled contently.

To say you were excited was an understatement. When Wanda told you about her offer you didn’t pause to think about your words.

“You should’ve said yes!” You smiled toothily with your own body vibrating from happiness and Wanda couldn’t help giggling at your reaction.

“I was kinda shocked,” she scrunched her nose.

“My baby is getting famous!” You launched yourself at her and Wanda burst out laughing at your eagerness.

You’ve always been her biggest supporter. Always by her side in whichever gig she got and always fighting the anxiety that sometimes took the best of her.

She’ll never forget when she showed you her first song. Your eye had lighted up like the fourth of July and the pride reflected in it had her insides warming up. And the jokes of having to quit your job but still waiting to get paid had her stomach flipping at the wondering of how you’d celebrate this time when she told you she accepted to play at the festival.

But all of that flew off her mind when she got the call from Natasha saying you’d been admitted into the hospital.

All her dreams and wishes shifted into one. 

‘Please, may you be safe’ she begged to any deity willing to hear her.

Stomping through the hospital doors, she rushed to the front desk asking for your whereabouts, just to sprint the two floors that separated you both.

The air filling her lungs had become toxic and it hurt to breathe. Her trembling legs burned from the sudden running from the parking lot to your hospital bed.

“Detka!” Wanda cried entering room 274.

What she saw had her heart jumping on freefall down a cliff.

Your weakened form looked at her without the life that was so characteristic of you. All the little traits that adorned your happy features were erased as if they never existed.

Her legs menaced to give away and she wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Knees collided against the cold floor as her hand grabbed yours as if the act alone would transmit to you some of her light.

“Detka,” she sobbed as her world started to tumble.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you spoke calmly as your free hand cupped her cheek.

She placed her hand over yours, holding it tightly as she tried to understand.

Two days ago you were laughing gleefully about your vacation together and now… now you looked like a ghost.

“Come here,” you commanded weakly as you scooted over and Wanda didn’t need to think twice.

Careful not to step on any IV, she cuddled against you, choking at the warmth barely existent.

“What- Why,” she cried defeatedly as she crumpled your hospital gown in her hand.

Your arms held her trembling body, spasming with every sob that escaped her. Kissing your head, you mumbled against her. “My eye,” was all your broken voice allowed to communicate.

“It wasn’t an accident. Was it?” She should’ve caught the signs. The random sickness and the vomiting, all had an explanation she was too oblivious to note. 

“It’s a retinoblastoma,” you paused, trying to steady your voice. “It had reached the majority of my organs,” you tightened your hold and Wanda’s soul cried with her at the barely change in strength.

“You can’t leave me!” She screamed between sobs. “You- You’ve- You have promised me,” her whole face contorted as another pang ran through her heart.

The news had left her weak to speak, so she stood there, laying by your side in your hospital bed, crying her pain away as she tried to process how her life would change soon. You were slipping through her fingers and she could do nothing about it other than see you leave.

“I’m gonna call Maria and cancel-”

“What?” You cut her off, looking down at her.

She sat in bed, sighing at the refusal from her body. “You’re dying,” she groaned.

“That doesn’t mean you have to pause your life,” you frowned sternly and Wanda felt herself becoming small, like a little kid being chastised because they ate too many sweets before bed.

“You’re the one abandoning me! You can’t tell me how to spend your last moments on this earth!” Wanda spits venomously, rage taking over her.

The resentment only grew stronger as you stood quiet, your sight staring at your lap.

“You have no right when you’re the one giving up!”

By the time she realized her words, your cheeks were already marked with tears running freely.

“I-” Wanda paused as a fresh wave of tears burned her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she launched herself towards you, holding you with all the will she possessed just to anchor you here. She refused to let you go.

“I’ll always be with you, Wands,” you cried, hugging her with what little force you had left.

“I’ll love you forever.” She vowed sincerely.

And she did. Every day for the next two weeks she stood by your side, telling you about the song she was writing for the festival and watching your favorite movies along with her favorite sitcoms. Even planning gatherings with your friends as you all enjoyed the last moments together.

Against her will, the day of the recital had come sooner than she expected and her heart ached knowing you won’t be there. It was the first time you missed one of her presentations and everything in her broke. Her heart shattered and she knew a part of her would go with you.

But she had promised you. And she would never break her word, no matter how hard it was to comply.

Looking at her reflection one last time, she smiled tearily as she saw your image in the mirror by her side, with the proudest toothy smile you only reserved for her. And that alone was enough to enlight her willpower.

She stepped into the white light as everyone cheered something she could really understand and she couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline running through every cell in her body.

“Good night, Westview!” Wanda smiled cheerily when the crowd erupted. “I hope you’re having a wonderful night. I wrote this song thinking of someone special and I hope you enjoy it.” She spoke confidently, feeling your joyful energy surrounding her. Finding Natasha’s eyes, she nodded as the redhead raised two thumbs up.

As the first tunes filled the silence looming over them, Wanda breathed deeply, reassuring herself.

I've tried to leave it all behind me

But I woke up and there they were beside me

And I don't believe it but I guess it's true

Some feelings, they can travel too

Wanda sang slowly, evoking every emotion into those lines.

Oh there it is again, sitting on my chest

Makes it hard to catch my breath

I scramble for the light to change

You're always on my mind

You're always on my mind

Her intrusive smile hung crookedly on her lips, feeling your presence by her side.

And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

Wanda allowed her mind to travel back to the moment she first heard your voice for the first time. Back then, she didn’t know that her heart could feel so strongly for someone.

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

And boy, how she wished to see your face in the crowd, with your toothy smile lightening her path.

And if I stay home, I don't know

There'll be so much that I'll have to let go

You're disappearing all the time

But I still see you in the light

For you, the shadows fight

And it's beautiful but there's that tug in the sight

I must stop time traveling, you're always on my mind

You're always on my mind

You're always on my mind

Wanda sang her soul in those lines, hoping somehow you knew.

We all need something watching over us

Be it the falcons, the clouds or the crows

And then the sea swept in and left us all speechless

Speechless

Her eyes watered at the realization you’d be the one watching over her. Always guiding her, even if she couldn’t see you. And she couldn’t feel more blessed.

And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

As she sang the last words, she allowed her fingers to take over the melody, imagining said notes floating away to you, for all she wanted now was to see your proud smile one last time when she rushed to your side shortly.

But she never saw you again. 

By the time she met her friends, her legs gave up as she saw the tears running down their faces, confirming to her what her soul had felt when she saw you in the mirror was nothing more than the bond that linked you breaking as you left this world.

The arms of her friends surrounding her meant nothing at the realization that you had left her. All alone to pick up the pieces of her heart scattered around.

Sadness reigned over the group of people gathered by your casket. Each one with their own thoughts and feelings, but if Wanda was sure of something it was that everyone there asked the same question.

How come the nicest people are the first to leave? Seeing your picture over the easel with that big smile that had taken her captive and your eye shining with that unique light it held, enlightened a wave of anger roaring free. It wasn’t fair.

“Wanda,” your mom spoke softly once the funeral ended.

Looking up, Wanda couldn’t help her cries as the woman hugged her tightly, crying along with her.

“She loved you,” she spoke against the brunette’s hair. “Until her last breath, she loved you.”

Those words played in her mind like a mantra. Maybe if she repeated them enough, it wouldn’t hurt that much.

“She asked me to give you this,” the woman gave her a white envelope when they parted away. “And one last thing? Thank you for loving her.” She kissed Wanda’s head before walking away, leaving a broken Wanda by your grave.

Sitting down, she let the silence surround her, almost like a bubble that would pop with even the softest touch, breathing twice, thrice before opening the letter.

Wands, if you’re reading this it means my body is no longer by your side. But know that my soul will always be linked to yours, for a love like ours is hard to die.

Thank you for all the great moments you shared with me. Unbeknownst to you, every single smile and laugh you gifted me added time to my sand clock and that blessing is something that kept me fighting till the end.

I know you’re suffering right now and you need to mourn, like any loss. But when you’re able to truly smile again, I beg of you not to close your heart. Life is too magical to be lived alone.

Allow yourself to feel love again, don’t fight your heart. Yes? Promise me you’ll keep your head high and not let my departure keep you from enjoying the little things in life.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about it, but I know you and I didn’t want you to leave your life on standby while you worried about things no one could solve. Know that till the last breathing of my heart, I lived. And I hope to live forever in your memory.

The necklace I gifted you holds a meaning. I knew it deep in me the first moment I saw you that you were my forever love. And I wished with all my heart I lived long enough to grow old with you. But as the latest didn’t happen, I found the right totem to keep our love for the end of times.

The sixteenth note means the union of our souls and the sincere love we held for each other. The eighth note holds the reminder that even though I'm not present, my spirit will always guide you through your dreams, helping you achieve them. Always silently rooting for you in whatever challenge you face. Just like I always did.

No matter what, bet your ass I’m so, so, so proud of you, baby. And I always will. You were my biggest love and I’m forever thankful for you had taken me.

I love you forever. Until we meet again.

Wanda hugged the letter tightly against her chest, silently crying her pain away as she stared numbly at your whereabouts buried three feet underground.

“I’ll love you forever,” she cried, mustering all the love she held for you in those three words, hoping the wind would let you know.

As always, coments and reblogs are appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mitarashi-san​

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #requested #my writing