#mismatch moodboard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

studioghibelli · 3 months

Text

masterpiece - a joel miller x reader

summary: joel moseys on in to your art store, despite seeming distant and cold towards you. an annoyed artist and an aggressive man, now that seems like quite the match.

warnings: artist!reader, grumpy!joel (no shit lol), post-outbreak, jackson era, age gap (early 20s reader/ 56 year old peepaw joel), sort of enemies to lovers but the “they’re annoying to me” kind, no use of y/n, female reader, short but sweet smut (semi-public, f receiving oral, unprotected sex)

notes: this is for @iamasaddie’s moodboard writing challenge! thank you for the wonderful inspiration <3 also i know the photo is not joel, but i only write for him at the moment so everybody let’s just PRETEND OKAY!!!! enjoy my lovelies Xx

Memories from before the world collapsed were hazy for you.

Bucket hats sewn for toddlers, bright colored toy dinosaurs made from plastic, a red wagon your grandparents used to pull you around in through the neighborhood sidewalks- vaguely, their pictures sat within the confines of your mind. Vaguely you could remember the sound of your aunties laughing whilst cooking, the way your father would roar at the television during football season.

You could remember them, and yet they felt more like ideas than memories. As if they were something you read about in a book, not an experience you had once lived through.

When you were thirteen and your family had found their way to Jackson, you fell in love with all the art encyclopedias Maria had given you. On missions, your father would bring you every single book he could find that talked about art. All different types. From Giotto to Fragonard, Vélasquez to Monet, Van Gogh to Millais- all of them had enraptured you, they had taken you over, body and soul, and in a world that was chipping away around you, you found solace in their creations.

After you turned eighteen, you had enough courage to try your hand at portrait art. The first one you made of Tommy was unnerving. You made him look more like a neanderthal than a man, with mismatched ears and crossed eyes, thick and uneven facial hair and wild curls. Still, Tommy had it framed and hung above the mantle of his fire place.

It was a reminder of growth. Of where you once were.

Now you did portraits around town, traded them for some dried out herbs or freshly pressed paper. People liked having art around. It reminded them of what once was. They flocked to you happily, wanting to feel the same contentment they once fell, before the world had sunk to its knees and submitted.

You were a reminder to the townspeople that life didn’t have to be so gray, nor dreary. Everyone seemed to love you and your quirky, distant, eclectic personality. A true artist. A Van Gogh, as Maria had described you once. You saw the world in whatever color you so pleased, you saw things others didn’t, you picked up on pockets of beauty that many looked over. People admired you for that, they wanted to talk to you, wanted to pick at your brain.

Everyone except him.

The moment you watched Joel Miller trot in through those gates, you knew you had to have him. To paint him, that is. His thighs stretched taut across the saddle, his broad shoulders budging at the seams of his flannel, chocolate eyes distant and full of worry, anger, hunger- he was.... incredible. Your dream man. For painting purposes only, of course.

Well, that's what you continuously tried to remind yourself. You would reprimand your own mind, stating what you felt was the obvious: You were attracted to him the way an artist was attracted to the rising sun or the waves of the ocean. You wanted to paint him, study his features, color in his skin. There was no physical, emotional, or romantic attraction there.

No. No way. Not you. Not for a man as old as your own father, if not older. Not for a man who had only ever given you grunts and one worded answers in response to your questions. Not for a man who couldn't give you the time of day.

It was a normal Wednesday when it finally happened. Sitting in the little studio in the town's strip that Maria and Tommy had created for you, doodling away and sketching. You were working on a watercolor of the tree line in the distance, now focusing on the rise of the mountains behind them. Snowy, navy, serene. You weren't that good with scenic paintings, but Maria wanted a big canvas of your work to hang in the Tipsy Bison, for everyone to see.

And, as you so often did, you decided to indulge her.

The record player was scratching in the corner, some melodic crooning of Sinatra filling the room.

A deep huff escaped you. Things were not going your way today. "Not right. No, no." You muttered, looking at the wonky, twisted tree trunk you had just messed up on. "Not right at all." Amidst your personal berating, you hadn't heard the bell of the front door swing open and chime its familiar song.

"How hard is it to draw a fucking tree?" You grumbled, hissing in annoyance as you wiped away the dripping paint. Somehow, it only looked worse. You wiped your stained hands across your pants, groaning out in defeat.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?"

The voice startled you. As your nerves dissipated, you recognized who that voice belonged too. Deep and baritone, the kind of voice that sunk through your chest like honey dripping from a spoon, swirling in to a cup of steaming tea.

He was honey, wasn't he? If honey was old and bitter, you thought to yourself.

You turned, finally meeting the face of Joel Miller.

"Hello." You stood up from your stool, wringing your messy hands out on your apron once again. "Why... are you in here?" You spoke slowly, as if you couldn't believe he were actually in front of you. Was it him? Or an apparition? Your eyes could be deceiving you. Perhaps you were Van Gogh after all.... slowly descending in to madness. You shook the thought away.

"You give that warm a' welcome to all your guests?" Joel narrowed his eyes at you, looking around the slightly messy studio. Hanged paintings for sale on the walls, splatters of paint dripping down wooden easels, tubes of oil and acrylics strewn around. Not many people visited you in here, lest to pick up their orders.

"I..." You trailed off in search of what to say next, narrowing your eyes at him in return. "No."

Joel hummed out between his teeth in response, fingers gently trailing down the sides of a few handmade journals you had for sale. "What do you want for one of these?" He asked, picking up the leather bound pages.

"I usually do a trade. Some vegetables, um... pretty much anything, really."

"You drive a hard bargain." His words dripped with sarcasm.

"Did you come in here to annoy me, or do you actually want something?" You snapped, sitting back down in your chair with a huff. The current painting you were working on was doing your head in, and your artistic talent was definitely being challenged.

You felt shit at your craft today, to be honest.

"I don't really got none of that." He responded sheepishly. "I could do somethin' for you? Got a leaking sink? Broken cabinet?" He sat down on a stool adjacent from you, flipping through the blank pages. "I wanna get this, for my daughter. She's, uh... she's a bit like you. Real in to art and stuff."

You rolled his offer through your head, thinking on it.

Portraits! There was your answer.

"I know what you could do for me."

Joel looked up at you and shrugged. "Sure, what is it?"

"Let me paint you. I-I need to work on my portraits, need to.... find my style." You explained softly. You watched his face spread over with confusion.

"That's just extra work for you, you ain't gettin' anything in return for painting me."

"Yes, I am! I'm honing in my skills."

Joel looked around at the art all around him. Paintings of the dogs he had seen wagging their tales through town, a portrait of Maria in the corner, a field of blooming flowers- he didn't think your skills needed any honing. You were remarkable, but Joel didn't really know that much about art, anyways.

"Fine."

"Free tonight? After dinner?"

Grudgingly, Joel agreed.

• • •

His ass was hurting. The cold, metal stool beneath his thighs was uncomfortable, digging in to his skin. He wondered how you could do this all day, how you could sit and stare and paint and move without complaining.

Because, god damn, was this seat uncomfortable.

When he had walked in for his portrait, you were changing the track on the old record player. The Goo Goo Dolls. He had rolled his eyes, unable to count all the times he had heard Iris on the radio.

Still, it brought a sense of nostalgia he had thought died out a long ago. It made him feel…. normal. And normalcy was the most beautiful thing in the world now.

“How d’you sit on this all day?” He snapped half way through your session. Your body was hidden behind the canvas, and every so often he saw splatters and drops of paints exploding. He was curious what you were doing back there.

“Just do.”

Joel snorted. “That ain’t a real answer.”

He heard your annoyed sigh. “It is. Once I get in the zone, I just go for it.”

That answer satisfied him enough.

“Why do you like art so much anyways?”

You peeked out from behind the canvas, eyebrows furrowing. “Because it makes me feel alive. Do you know that feeling? Inhibition? Freedom?” Your words dripped with sarcasm, hissing out with impatience. Why did he care, anyways?

Joel rolled his eyes, holding on to the edge of his seat as he winced. His back was strained, and he knew he was getting too old for this.

“I do, actually.”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re really damn annoyin’, you know that?”

You grumbled beneath your breath, tweaking a few strays of eyebrow hair on his portrait. “Been told.”

“Sure you have.”

A long bout of silence eased over the room, and for a long while, the only sound was the scratching of the vinyl and the thick breeze outside.

“What’s your deal, anyways?” You finally asked, working on the thick vein of his neck.

You stared at him for a long while, tracing over his face. He was undoubtedly handsome. The curve of his Aquiline nose reminded you of the Roman sculptures you had seen in your books, the softness of his perfectly curved lips, the shape of his moustache. He really was a true masterpiece.

The length of his neck bled into two sturdy collarbones and thick shoulders, biceps strong and deep beneath the sleeves of his dark green flannel. The color of his skin, tanned and slightly golden and perfect, had been your favorite to paint thus far, the depths of his cheeks and cheekbones perfect beneath the swinging light of the studio.

Joel stared at you, your question racketing through his brain like a pinball machine. “What do you mean?”

“Why’re you so angry? Why don’t you like me?” You finally asked, disappearing behind the easel once again.

“Never said I didn’t like you.”

You laughed softly, the tip of your brush swiping down the side of his jaw. “It’s implied.”

“By you, maybe.”

“By me? You’re the one who avoids me. I don’t have the plague, y’know.”

Joel snorted. “Worse than that.” Hu grumbled beneath his breath.

“Heard that.”

He took in a deep breath, and although you couldn’t see his face at the moment, you knew without a doubt his brows were furrowed, jaw clenched. The typical mask Joel Miller wore with such pride.

“Look.” Joel began speaking, but he wasn’t sure where he was going. “You….. I….. look.”

“I’m looking!” You exclaimed in annoyance. “Just spit it out already, man.”

In one swift move he had gotten up from his stool and had grabbed your wrist. His grasp wasn’t hard, it wasn’t mean. In fact it was gentle, sturdy with an unfamiliar sort of warmth. His brown eyes bore down in to yours earnestly, and you saw them flickering with something you couldn’t quite pin point, an emotion you had never seen him show you.

A thick lump was forming in your throat, and you felt your stomach churning with butterflies, aflame by the feeling of his calloused palm on your skin. He was warm, rough, masculine.

He was perfect. A masterpiece.

You sucked in a sharp breath of air as Joel crouched down, now level with your eye sight.

“Look.” He began once again with his new favorite word. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Okay?”

“What?!” That’s what he was trying to say?

“Yes. It’s embarrassing, I know.” He was seething through gritted teeth, jaw clenching with annoyance. His cheeks had grown a soft pink, no doubt out of embarrassment for the admittance of his secret.

“I-”

Joel wasted no time cutting you off. “I ain’t the poet type, alright? Lord knows I’m not. And when I see you…. fuck. This is so fucking stupid. When I see you, I feel shit. Okay?”

A laugh of amusement escaped you. “You feel shit?” You asked incredulously, and his grip on your wrist loosened.

Joel took a step back, sitting down on the floor. “It’s stupid. A fuckin’ crush, in the middle of the world ending.”

“It hasn’t ended yet.” You purred, setting down your brush as you sat in front of him. “So, maybe take the time to kiss me? Just in case it doesn’t end, tomorrow or something.”

Joel stared at you, a long moment blanketing your bodies. He was weighing his options in his mind, calculating what could happen if he did, if he didn’t. Damn the risks.

He had spent so long wondering what you tasted like, what you felt like. He said a silent prayer to whatever god may still be alive, and leaned in towards you.

His lips were softer than you thought, and his facial hair tickled and bristled against your cheeks. Joel was a good kisser, a passionate kisser. Your mouths melded together like two pieces of iron being hammered into a ring, thick and sweet and harmonious in their shared movements.

Joel couldn’t help his wandering hands. The rough tips of his fingers made you shiver, calloused thumbs drawing circles in the dips of your hips as he pulled you closer. You were straddling him now, arms thrown around his neck as you kissed him fervently, as though his spit was the last thing you would ever taste.

“You could’ve done this months ago, y’know.” You mumbled against his skin.

“Probably could’ve.”

Your fingers moved down to the buttons of his shirt, Joel’s mouth attaching to your neck.

“Probably would’ve saved you a lot of annoyance, you know.” You grinned down against him, a soft gasp escaping you as your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers tangling into his curls. You grinded your hips down, feeling that bulge pressing into the crotch of your leggings. “If you woulda told me, I could’ve helped with all that pent up aggression.”

Joel rolled his eyes at the playfulness of your words, pulling you closer to him. “You’re trouble.” He muttered, lips attaching back to yours. A smile broke out across your face as you pushed his flannel off his shoulders. Joel pulled away, throwing off his shirt, before tugging yours off in turn. Your chests, bare and warm, pressed in to the other, and in one swift flick of his wrist your bra came off with ease.

He pushed you back on to the ground, grinding himself against you. You tugged your pants off, left with a pair of panties that were now soaked through. Your clit, swollen and throbbing beneath the cotton material, was ignited with each movement of his hips, his covered bulge tracing circles into your sensitive nub.

Joel moved downwards, until he was face to face with your covered pussy. He leaned forward, dragging his nose across your clit as he pressed his tongue flat into your folds, tasting your arousal that had settled into your underwear.

“Off.” He commanded, undoing his own belt. You flicked your panties away, and he was face to face with your cunt once more. “Pretty little thing.” He mumbled, leaning forward to taste you. When his lips wrapped around your clit, your back arched off the cold tiles of the floor, pleasure coursing through you in electric droves.

“Taste pretty, too.” Joel smirked against your pussy, his tongue pressing in to your hole, dragging out that sweet wetness that dripped from you like syrup.

He tasted you, breathed you in, swallowed you. You were the only thing that filled his senses at the moment, the only thing that he had his mind on. In that moment your pussy was the only thing he worshipped, the only thing he wanted to spend any time tending to.

Your hips were grinding against his face now, his tongue swirling and lapping at your swelling clit. You couldn’t even talk, couldn’t even think. He was all you could pay any attention to. Damn your art, damn your painting- right now his mouth was the only thing you could wrap your head around.

Your pussy was clenching around nothing, your orgasms on brewing in the pit of your belly. Joel’s rough palms carved up and down your sides, his well worked hands scratching your skin in a delicious sort of way. He was moaning against your folds, nose brushing up and down your pussy as he lapped at the pink of your cunt.

“Joel, Joel-” You were drunk on him, on his movements, clit tingling against the tip of his tongue. He chuckled against you, knowing just what he was doing to you.

Joel knew how to make a woman feel good, and you were no exception.

“Gonna cum.” You breathed out excitedly, hips bucking one last time as your orgasm washed over you. Your moans and cries echoed across the wall, and you tugged him by his curls farther between your thighs. Joel licked you through the height of your orgasm, until you had no choice but to push him away.

You lay on the floor, breaths hard and shaky, blinking as you came back down to earth. Joel crawled over you, his thumb gently trailing down your cheek. He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, which was now pushing past your lips and exploring the softness of your mouth. You moaned, legs opening to grant his throbbing cock access.

With your small hand, you guided the tip of his leaking cock to the folds of your pussy, pressing it gently against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck me.” You begged against his mouth.

Joel happily obliged you.

To say you had never been fucked quite like that was the understatement of the year.

Joel’s cock was thick and perfect, curved ever so slightly to the left. He hit every spot deep within you that made you shiver and moan, he knew just how to roll your hips to drag you towards your second orgasm.

And god, did he know how to last.

By the time your third orgasm had rushed over you, his fingers had tangled themselves in your hair and your teeth had sunk into the thickness of his pretty neck, his cock still hard and stern inside of you. He was panting like a dog, grinding and humping in to you as his twitching cock filled you to the brim.

Your thighs were shaking, wrapped around his waist as his fingers tweaked your nipples. He was breathing hard and heavy in to your hair, eyes shut tight as he took you all in.

“Feels so good.” You whimpered, eyes pricking with tears of pleasure.

“Fuckin’ love your cunt.” He grumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “Gonna paint these fuckin’ walls. Gonna fill you up, make you mine.” It wasn’t just dirty talk, it was a promise. His hips stuttered into you, your aching clit pressing into his pelvis with every deep thrust he gave you.

“Cum inside me then. Make me yours.” You whispered, nails digging into his shoulders, dragging down his back. You had etched your sketches into the skin of his back, drawing lines of ravenous pleasure that only he would be able to see, when all was said and done.

Joel groaned at the sound of your sweet voice, and with a final grunt, you felt ropes of his cum filling you up, dripping and sliding out of you as he lazily thrust, riding out his own high.

By the time he had fallen beside you, your hand had grabbed his, and you both knew you were done for.

Months of built up pressure, stolen glances, curt conversations- you both knew what was there, beneath the surface. Two people who didn’t quite know how to approach the other, and yet still, two people who knew what was lurking beneath the surface.

God, you were so happy Joel had walked into your shop.

He had helped you get dressed, and you both walked outside to the street, sharing a cigarette you had bartered for a couple weeks ago. You took in a deep drag, gently holding it to his lips. As you exhaled, he inhaled the tobacco, and both of your eyes settled on to the bare street, the winter moon beating her sweet, silver light on to the pavement.

“If you keep doing that, I don’t think I’ll ever finish your panting.” You finally spoke, filling the comfortable silence with the sweet cadence of your words.

“I like it how it is.” He whispered.

You turned, looking at the canvas that was drying ever so slowly beneath the store light. It was a bit whacky, a bit unfinished, as though a part of its story had yet to be told. But Joel’s eyes though…. well, his eyes were what struck you the hardest out of it all, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the beauty and skill of your craftsmanship.

Those umber orbs, painted with that familiar distance his eyes so often held, swirling with mystery, regret, wonder, and a little bit of admiration that you hadn’t quite picked up on while painting. They were full of emotion that Joel so often showed, in his own quiet way.

You turned to him, taking another puff from the cigarette. A smile stretched across your face, and his arm gently hooked itself around you.

“Yeah, me too.” You admitted quietly.

After that night, the townspeople wondered why Joel was a little bit more approachable. They wondered what made him a little bit more softer, kinder, a bit more poetic.

And each time you would sneak away into his house underneath the cover of darkness, the reminder of that fateful night hung just above his sofa, Joel’s unfinished portrait staring at you with that familiar beauty of his.

348 notes · View notes

rottnteen · 8 months

Text

when i think of Spencer Reid i think of pure fluff

that man is the cutest little thing. but his girlfriend could be too :) <3 (totally not self indulgent).

girly!girl!reader x spencer reid moodboard:

“Spencer!” You smile when he walks into your pink bedroom. You two are getting ready for a date and he wears a white button up paired with black pants, his mismatching socks walking through your doorway. “Will you help me?”

He looks down at you, wearing your cute little white dress, and your hair in pink bows. You have your knee high socks only up your calf’s and he nods whilst adjusting his glasses. The sight of you causing a cute little blush to adorn his nose. How could he get a girl like you?

“You excited baby?” He asks as his deft fingers roll up your calf’s to your knees and soon almost up your thighs. He squeezes the soft plush of them once he’s done. You nod your head yes, your eyes on his fingers as he works the supple flesh. He smiles at that, his plump pink lips working into a smirk because he realizes the effect he has on you. Just like you have on him. <3

#spencer reid scenario #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #just girly thoughts #rottnteen fics

419 notes · View notes

anotherbluesunday · 11 days

Text

✨Teaser: In Technicolor✨

So some of you may know this, but my next fic that was set to release was originally called “Ballad of a Teenage Dream” and was a Wednesday x Skam crossover that showcased all the highs and lows of high school and the growing pains that come with the transition from teenager to young adult.

Well that story has been reworked, overhauled, and given new life.

I present to you my high school dramady, In Technicolor.

Set in Los Angeles, California, the story follows two groups of friends as their worlds collide. A modern spin on the social dynamics of Romeo and Juliet where two factions are warring but cannot remember why or why their bitter rivalry is so important to their identity, In Technicolor highlights the feuding of the wealthy and the everyday citizens to show the consequences that come from stripping culture and history from the city streets in the name of gentrification. It explores the complex relationships of families on either side of the fence to reveal that wealth does not always bring happiness. And finally, at the center of it all, the complicated friendships and relationships of the members of these two groups as they meld into one.

For our East LA champions, we follow the Addams siblings and their mismatched group of skateboarders, graffiti artists, musicians, and street racers.

For our Palisades elite, we focus on the Blossoms and Galpin’s—two families from extreme wealth that are not entirely honest about what they show the world.

Important Story Information: If the visuals were not enough to give it away, this story will be a crossover with a different fandom. Entering the mix is the ensemble from Riverdale. I do want to caution readers now, there will be crossover pairings, character retcon on both sides, ageing up, ageing down, and changes to character personalities.

One such example is that Wednesday isn’t allergic to color and isn’t entirely unapproachable. She smiles and laughs but only when around those she trusts like her family and friends. Pugsley has been aged up and is Wednesday’s twin brother. My face claim for this version of Pugsley is Xolo Mariduẽna and I have made Pugsley (who also will be going by “Lee”) more confident and hotheaded with some snark and sass. Second to that, my face claim for Pubert “Bertie” Addams is Malachi Barton and Pubert/Bertie will be one year younger than his siblings—the twins Wednesday and Pugsley age 17 and in their senior year and Bertie age 16 entering his junior year.

On the Riverdale side of the crossover, I have made certain changes that I don’t want to reveal just yet for Archie’s character. That surprise will come soon enough because next I will be posting moodboards for specific couples that will be at the center of this story. But one change I will discuss now to get it out there to avoid hate comments and harassment is the issue of is Cheryl bi or is she a lesbian. In my story, she’s bi and will be paired with a male lead. I understand that the actress for her character went back and forth on Cheryl’s orientation but, to me, Cheryl reads like a chaotic bisexual that goes back and forth on her identity because being bi is confusing enough. And as someone who is bi, I would like to see more representation and fiction for people like myself because fandoms are so quick to erase bisexuality and pansexuality and criticize us when we speak up about it. So in this story, Cheryl is bi and she has broken up with her most recent girlfriend before meeting her next partner who is a man. And it’s fine.

If this upsets you, just swipe off of this post. Don’t leave mean comments or take digs at me because I’m not for any of this fandom infighting nonsense. It’s fiction and these characters can be whatever you want them to be in your stories.

However, if you don’t mind Cheryl liking both men and women, you don’t have an opinion either way, or your curious to see how this’ll pan out, stay tuned. I’d love to share this story with you. All are welcome so long as things stay civil and breezy.

So with that, I look forward to updating with the couple’s board and then the first chapter titlecard along with the chapter itself. Until then, stay lovely and stay groovy.💜

26 notes · View notes

little-kotenok · 5 days

Text

i also made this big brother caregiver ( could also possibly be interpreted as unpleasant big brother regressor ) unpleasant moodboard today ^_^ i think he would wear mismatched pjs a lot ... i hope the regretevator agere community will eat good tonite !

37 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Text

Home, Sweet Home.

AN: As voted for by my followers, my next series update is for Cali, Steve and Bucky. After the fluff of the last part I gift you a bucket load of smut. And to the Nonnie who has sent me a request for these three- that will be coming soon! I’m not ignoring you.

Beta’d by: the glorious American, tits as big as her heart, @yarnforbrains

Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard and banners by me.

Masterlist | Series masterlist | Previous part

Relationship: Steve x Reader (Cali) x Bucky

Word count: 4.1k

CW: Poly relationship, fluff, feels, Smutty smut smut (Oral- M and F receiving, Rimming, bit of cum play, Vaginal sex, Anal fingering, Double penetration (in V and A)), cheeky banter. Bucky is a menace (d’uh!) Steve is intense, Cali is practical, even in the heat of the moment.

As you put down the box you’d been carrying and stretched out your aching back, you heard the sound of van doors closing, before it was followed by the sound of its engine starting.

Everything had moved quickly once you’d agreed with your boys that the house they’d picked was perfect. Bucky had packed up nearly all of his belongings and put them in storage, moving in full time with Steve. A few weeks later you’d done the same. You’d all agreed it would be far easier to coordinate the move from one place, as opposed to trying to leave three separate homes on the same day.

It had been tense to say the least, but now you were standing in what would become your office and private sanctuary, you had to admit it had been worth it. Of course it would take weeks to get the room sorted out just the way you wanted it, but you were giddy at the thought that you could do what you wanted and not worry about a landlord inspection.

You were just considering the best place for your desk when a pair of thick arms dusted with golden hair wrapped around your waist from behind. You relaxed back onto the sturdy frame attached to them, leaning your head against his collarbone.

“Hey, Steve. The movers gone?”

He dipped his head and nuzzled into your neck, his beard tickling your skin.

“Mmmhmm. Bucky’s just moving the last of his boxes to his study, and then, my darling Cali, he will finally allow us up into the master suite. I can’t believe how early he came over here this morning - just to ensure that our bed was all set up for us to sleep on this evening. Or that he wouldn’t allow either of us to see it.”

Steve’s musings were interrupted by a set of jaunty footsteps, and suddenly you were yanked from his embrace and twirled into Bucky’s beautifully mismatched arms.

“That’s cos I’ve got my priorities straight, punk. We’re gonna start this thing off right, sorting out our space first. So come on. I’ve got the suitcases of clothes up there already and our bathroom stuff. And wait until you see the bed!”

He dropped a hurried kiss on your lips, then let you go, only to cup Steve’s face with his work-roughened hands and kiss him as well. You smirked when you saw Steve’s hands grasp Bucky’s ass and give it a little squeeze, but then Bucky was jogging away up the stairs to the top floor - your new bedroom. You looked at Steve, and he gave a little shrug in return. The two of you broke into grins at the same time andfollowed Bucky up the stairs.

Steve let you go in before him, being the gentleman that he was, but you almost regretted it when you came to a sudden halt, and your statuesque boyfriend ran into your back and almost sent you flying. There, in front of you, stretching almost the full length of the back wall was the biggest bed you’d ever seen. It was more than enough space for the three of you if you didn’t feel like cuddling up. It was rare that you forwent the cuddingling, but it was nice to have the option. In the middle of it all was Bucky, lying spread eagle on the bed with a puckish grin on his face.

“What are you waiting for? Come try it out!”

With a squeal you launched yourself at him and the bed. He deftly rolled out of the way, and you giggled as you bounced on the sprung mattress. Bucky quickly covered and pinned you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your face and neck. You playfully batted at him but didn’t really make any effort to push him off and away, and therefore, you weren’t really surprised when his kisses got a bit more hot and heavy.

He dropped his hips onto you, unashamedly letting you feel his arousal. In response, you wrapped your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and gave it a little tug, provoking a deep moan.

“I like how you managed to get all the sheets on…” You arched as his lips trailed down your neck.

“Well, gotta make sure it was going to be comfortable for my best girl…” he lifted his head away from you and turned to look at Steve, who was still standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame with a smirk on his handsome face. “... and my best guy. What’re you still doing over there, punk? This doesn’t work without all three of us.”

Steve pushed himself upright, and as he stepped towards the bed, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and revealed his chiselled chest and abs, sprinkled with dark blonde hair. He toed off his shoes and popped the button on his jeans before climbing onto the bed beside you and Bucky. There was a feral gleam in his eye as he caught Bucky’s lips. Their kiss was more feral than romantic, both of them moaning into it, and you could feel your desire pooling between your legs, the way it did any time you saw your boys loving on each other.

You reached your free hand up to the back of Steve’s neck, so you could guide them back down to you. You were greedy for both of them, and you didn’t care. They effortlessly drew you into the kiss, three pairs of lips and three tongues coming together in a tangle. It was messy and erotic, and everything you wanted.

Steve continued to kiss you as Bucky broke away, his hands inching their way under your top and pushing it up as his body slid down yours. He greedily tugged at the cups of your sensible cotton bra, freeing your breasts and immediately latching onto one with his mouth and the other with his fingers. Steve swallowed your moans and pulled your top further up, only letting go of your lips to pull the fabric over your head and throwing it to join his t-shirt on the floor. He yanked down the straps of your bra, making it easier for Bucky, who - from the sounds he was making - was enjoying devouring your sweet flesh. You pulled Steve back in for more kisses, your blood on fire under the ministrations of the two men you loved.

As Bucky travelled further down your body, pulling your yoga pants off you, Steve’s hands roamed. His thumbs played with the wet peaks of your breasts, keeping them pebbled and sensitive. You were sucking in lungfuls of air, dizzy on sensation. You registered Bucky’s warm breath on your thighs, in between them, and then he was devouring you again. Your fingers, still lodged in Steve’s short blonde locks, tightened, making him hiss as you whined.

“Bucky making you feel good, Cali? I know how much you love his tongue. Don’t blame you, baby. It’s a talented tongue. I want you to let yourself go. Be as loud as you want. You’re in your own home - your home with us, and we can do whatever we want. Wanna hear you scream as he makes you cum. Can you do that?”

Your eyes were screwed shut, hands still clenched, but you nodded. Bucky knew exactly what to do to get you there. Sometimes he teased you, keeping you just under the plateau of your pleasure until you were begging him, begging Steve. But other times he just went for it, keen to feel you cum on his face, over and over and over, until you were limp. Today it appeared he was going for the latter.

His tongue plunged into your pussy; his thumb drew circles on your clit.

“Bucky! Fuck!” You shifted your legs against the cool sheets when they were suddenly lifted up in the air, and thrown over Bucky’s shoulders. The man himself was on his knees, chest flat to the bed, large body pressed as far between your thighs as possible, almost burying himself in your folds and folding you almost in half. You could feel your approaching orgasm, and it was obvious that Steve could tell as well, because that’s when he lowered his mouth to your breasts. “Steve! I… I… oh God!”

The pleasure crashed over you, waves and waves of it lifting you up so you were breathless, then pulling you down and tossing you around so you didn’t know which way was up.

Cool air hit your chest as Steve pulled his mouth off you. Your eyes opened again in response, just in time to see him lean forward, drag Bucky away from your cunt, and smash his lips against his boyfriend’s.

They pawed at each other, Bucky pulling off his shirt and pushing down his jeans and briefs in one go, so that his cock sprang free. Steve immediately wrapped his hand around it and gave it a few tugs, making Bucky whimper into his mouth. You watched them with hooded eyes, as amazed by their beauty today as you had been the first time you’d seen them together.

Somehow, Bucky pulled back from Steve’s lips and removed the hand from his weeping cock. Bucky gave the slightly taller man a light shove in the shoulder and with a smirk, Steve allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, the springy surface bouncing as he landed down next to you. Bucky yanked at Steve’s jeans, dragging them off him as though they offended him, which in this moment, they probably had. You knew how Bucky got when there was something between him and his prize.

Steve was commando under his pants, and you swore you saw Bucky’s eyes light up as they zoned in on Steve’s cock. He shuffled forward, hovering over Steve’s crotch and then, looking up into his boyfriend’s face, allowed a string of saliva to fall from his lips to land right on Steve’s tip. Both you and Steve moaned at the sight, and Bucky just grinned.

“Were you a bit jealous that our little darlin’ was getting all of my oral skills? Cos it sounded that way.” Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve and rubbed his thumb in the puddle of his spit, smearing it as far as he could reach. “You know all you gotta do is ask, punk.” He slowly started to move his hand up and down, and Steve gasped, his long eyelashes kissing his cheekbones in a way you thought should have been illegal.

“Buck…”

“Got a question for me, Stevie?”

You repressed a smirk. You loved it when Bucky got a little cheeky, a little dominant with Steve. You didn’t know why, but seeing Steve in a more submissive position always got you a bit hot and bothered. You weren’t naturally dominant in a bedroom setting, but every so often you got the itch. Today, however, you were happy to watch and go where your boys led you.

“Bucky… please…” Steve was going whiny now and it made you shiver in anticipation.

“You need my mouth on you, blondie? Need my tongue to drive you wild? Then you gotta ask. Ask for where you want me.”

Bucky tightened his grip, drawing another gasp from Steve as he tried to form words.

“I… want you to eat me, Buck. Please!”

Bucky smiled. “Now, was that so hard, Stevie? Hands and knees for me, big boy.” He let go of Steve’s cock so he could roll, and then shifted his gaze to you. “Need you to slide under, darlin’, and give that beautiful cock of his the love it deserves.” You smiled back and shimmied yourself into position, not being able to resist the urge to lick right over his tip, and taste his musky, salty essence.

“Cali, Bucky - You’re killing me.” A glance revealed his trembling forearms as he anticipated the pleasure to come.

“Oh, baby, we ain’t even started yet.” Those were the last coherent words you heard from Bucky for a while, as he pushed Steve’s thighs wider apart and leant forward. Your own position didn’t allow for much of a viewing angle, but the sound that left Steve’s throat and the small flex of his hips let you know when Bucky had started his second round of tongue gymnastics. You shifted again and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, and started your own task.

“Oh… fuck. Fuck!”

You suckled and swirled your tongue and attuned your ears to the whimpering coming from Steve and the lewd, slurping sounds emanating from somewhere behind him. You could see the tension in Steve’s body, the tendons and veins in his arms all pronounced, his abs clenching and relaxing. You moved your hand up to his balls, cupping them gently and massaging them, before pressing your fingers against the spit slick patch of skin just behind them, rubbing over his prostate from the outside as Bucky tongue-fucked Steve’s hole and you tormented his cock with your own tongue.

Steve was breathing heavily, desperately trying to hold back, but he was fighting a losing battle. He might have stamina and determination, but Bucky and you were more determined. When his legs started to tremble along with his arms, you readied yourself, hollowing your cheeks and pressing your tongue onto the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He came with a shout, spurting thick ropes of cum into your mouth with such force some seeped out around your lips and ran down your cheek.

“C-Cali… you need to move…” Steve’s voice was strained, but you heard him, and letting his cock fall from your mouth, you shifted out from under him so he could collapse forward onto the bed. He turned his head to look at you as he regained his breath, eyes wide and glassy as after-shocks of pleasure darted through his body.

You looked over to where Bucky had come back up onto his knees. His eyes were black with lust, his face shiny and wet from a combination of your juices and his own saliva. You spread your thighs and held your arms open as he knee-walked across the expanse of the bed and pressed his weight down on you. He licked the errant drops of Steve’s cum off your face before kissing you passionately.

“Want you to fuck me, Bucky. I need you.”

“I know, doll. I know. Need you too. Need you both.”

It took only a moment for Bucky to line himself up, and then he was being enveloped by you. Your fingernails scratched at his shoulders and you cried out.

The mattress shifted beside you, and you turned to find that Steve had moved closer. He kissed you, hard and deep as Bucky fucked into you at a steady pace. Unlike when he’d been eating you out, it was clear that Bucky wanted this to last. He knew how to angle himself to caress your g-spot and hasten your orgasm, but he wasn’t doing it, at least not yet. He wanted you aroused and desperate. The teasing bastard.

Steve pulled his lips from yours and leant across to Bucky, whispering something in his ear as he pressed kisses to the brunette’s jaw line. Bucky’s eyes twinkled and suddenly he flipped, rolling onto his back and taking you with him, his hands firm on your hips, finger tips digging in and likely to leave small marks of possession for you to look at in the mirror later. Steve leant over the side of the bed, rifling around in the pile of discarded clothes for something, before he moved up behind you, between Bucky’s now spread thighs his feet planted flat as he thrust upwards into your wet heat.

Steve pressed his firm body up against your back, and you could feel that his cock had recovered; you’d always been in awe of his stamina and recovery speed. His hands, with fingers long and slim, skimmed down your side and covered Bucky’s, helping to move you a-top him.

“This is how it should be, isn’t it? This just feels right, the three of us here, like this. The pair of you are so beautiful, and fuck, if I don’t just want to spend the rest of my life watching you.” His hands slid back up to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between thumb and forefinger, and you gasped, your head leaning back on his shoulder, his ocean blue eyes mesmerising you. “Fuck! I love you both so much.” He kissed you, messily, and then pushed you down towards Bucky, who took over the kisses.

Steve cupped the globes of your ass, jiggling the soft flesh and pulling on them, watching Bucky’s cock, now copiously covered in your cream, slide in and out of your pussy.

“Bucky’s filling you up so much, but how would you like to be fuller?” The fingers on one hand shifted and brushed over your tight rear hole, making you shudder and clench down. Bucky groaned into your mouth and then tore his lips from yours.

“Do that again, punk. She liked it.”

“Of course she did, she’s our beautiful, dirty girl.”

He curled over your back and pushed his thumb into Bucky’s mouth. The engineer sucked on it eagerly before letting it go, only for Steve to rub it over the ring of muscle.

“Oh God…” It felt so deliciously taboo.

There was some rustling, followed by the sound of a packet being torn open, and then you felt cold lube being drizzled over your asshole. Steve pressed his thumb against you again, smearing the lube, and pushing the tip of it inside.

Both Bucky and Steve had fucked your ass before, but never like this, with one of them already stuffed deep inside your pussy. You were 30% anxious, but 70% eager, and lay down flatter on Bucky, spreading your knees even wider to ready yourself. Your fingers clung to Bucky’s shoulders as he rocked gently under you, allowing you to concentrate on what Steve was doing.

With a little more pressure, his thumb tip popped into your ass, and he gently fucked it in and out. When you heard him chuckle, you realised that you were already moving your hips to help him along.

“Ready for more, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

Steve carefully pulled his thumb from you, and you let out a whimper of disappointment, despite knowing that the empty sensation wouldn’t last for long. He applied a bit more lube and then slid his index finger, slimmer but longer than his thumb, inside of you. He only pumped it a few times before you felt him add a second finger. The pair of them, combined with Bucky in your pussy, were making you feel so very full, and a bit light headed. Bucky pressed kisses to your brow and petted your hair, still moving softly.

“That’s it, darlin’. Just relax and let Stevie in.”

You nodded, your cheek rubbing against his thick and hairy chest, and then let out a gasp as Steve added a third finger.

“You can’t come yet, Cali. You gotta wait until I’m inside you. Need to feel you squeezing us both. Can you do that for me?”

Your eyes were squeezed shut, and you bit at your lower lip, the sensations so overwhelming already. “Hmm-hmm.”

Steve growled at your noise of agreement.

“I need a colour from you, baby. I need words.”

You dragged a ragged breath into your lungs, trying to get your brain to work.

“G-green, Stevie. So green.”

“Good girl.”

His fingers left you, but were swiftly replaced by the head of his cock. You urged your body to relax as he pushed in. You keened, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you felt fuller than you’d ever felt in your life.

“Fuck!” You let out your exclamation as Steve bottomed out within you with a grunt. Bucky’s hands slid up and down your sides in a soothing motion.

“You good, darlin?”

“Peachy, Buck. I just need a moment.”

You took a few seconds to process how you were feeling. Warm, full, but overall, loved. Bucky had already felt this, connected to you and Steve so intimately, and Steve also to some extent. You’d even had your own little ‘taste’ of this, but what you were doing now was so very different, and while not totally overwhelming, it was still A Lot ™. Your whole body throbbed and you realised that you were on a hair trigger, so close to coming, but annoyingly still too far away.

A little whimper escaped your lips, and you tentatively moved your hips, making the boys shift inside you. All three of you gasped.

“Fuck, Stevie. I can feel you inside her. Cali, please, can we move? I need to move!” Bucky had threaded the fingers of your right hand with his left, and you looked at the tattoos that decorated his arm.

“Yes. Please. I need you both to love me.” You turned your head to look over your shoulder at Steve, who smiled gently down at you, and then moved his right hand to cover yours where it held Bucky’s, joining you all together in another way, and one that felt more poignant.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. Not a problem.”

Steve started to move first, small, experimental thrusts that pushed you onto Bucky and filled you to the brim with both of them, and you couldn’t help but start to move yourself, helping to control the pace. The feeling was so strange inside you, feeling them both moving, but in different directions and in different places, but as you got used to it, as you all got used to it, you all became more frenetic. Bucky kissed your mouth; Steve dusted your shoulders with his own lips, and all you could do was get carried away on the pleasure. It rolled through you in waves, cresting and dipping, but never quite ever disappearing. You could feel the wetness seeping out of you around Bucky’s cock and dripping down onto his crotch. You could hear the lewd sounds from where Steve was plunging in and out of your ass, his body curled over your back. Sweat rolled down your body and your legs and arms shook from your near continuous orgasm.

Bucky came in you first, his movements getting faster and more uncoordinated, so Steve held still, to give him room to do so, hips snapping up into your spasming cunt.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Cali! Steve!”

Steve lent further over you, pushing you down onto Bucky, so he could kiss him over your shoulder. It was awkward and a bit messy, but you loved hearing Bucky whine into Steve’s mouth as continued to fill your pussy. As Bucky regained his breath and composure, he held you tight to him, letting Steve have the chance to find his own end within the tight embrace of your body. He was feral, fingers gripping your hips hard, adding a second set of marks to match the ones Bucky had placed on you earlier.

“You’re mine. Both of you. Love you both so goddamn much. Oh fuck, yes!”

The feeling of his hot cum filling your ass, along with the whole filthiness of this session of loving with your boys, triggered one last orgasm in you as you lay sprawled on Bucky. Steve collapsed over you, although he took some of his weight on your arms. You liked the feeling of being a bit squashed between them. You all exchanged soft gentle kisses to wherever you could reach.

Eventually though, you all needed to move. Steve rolled off of you in one direction and you rolled off Bucky in the other. You turned your head to look at your dark haired lover.

“I definitely approve of this bed, Bucky. 10 out of 10. But I hope you’ve got a lot of spare sheets for it.” You looked pointedly at the wet patch that had formed around and under him. “And a lot of mattress protectors.”

“Ever the practical one, ain’t ya, darlin’?”

You chuckled, and Steve snorted.

“One of us has to be, and it ain’t you or me, jerk.”

Bucky reached out for one of the pillows and launched it towards Steve’s head.

“Speak for yourself, punk.”

You rolled your eyes in affectionate dismay, before pushing yourself up and off the bed. You sashayed towards the en-suite, eager to clean the cum from your body, but stopped in the doorway and looked coquettishly over your shoulder.

“I’m going to try out the shower. First one to find me a towel gets to join me. The other get’s to start changing the sheets.”

You smiled as you walked into your new bathroom and pushed the door mostly closed, listening to the sounds of scrabbling and friendly rivalry from the other side.

You were home.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida

#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #late writes #an artist and an engineer #artist steve rogers #engineer bucky barnes #ot3

170 notes · View notes

peligin-eyed · 3 months

Text

OC Lodgings Moodboards: Charlie’s Rooms above a Gambling Den

A motley collection of mismatched furnishings, daring art pieces, and random drapery. It is brightly lit and rather colorful. The noise from down below only occasionally rattles the windows. Good god, why would anyone need so many throw pillows?

#oc lodgings moodboards #oc: the blithe sharpshooter

14 notes · View notes

8makes1newworld · 3 months

Text

A part two as requested. @last-words-ofashootingstar was responsible for about ninety percent of this happening, her big brain deserves the credit and her artistic touch with the moodboard she made above. Cameo appearances of other fandom figures also.

1k plus words

Slowly you awoke to the sunlight streaming through your open window. Unable to make out your surroundings while you sat up and looked around yourself. Upon realizing you were in your own room you began to relax.

Still an ominous feeling cloaked across your body as you tried to piece together the night before. Barely recalling any details of the excursion to the beach the previous night before.

You groaned as you got your tired body out of bed. A small scar on your finger throbbed, drawing your attention and prompting you to rack your brain as to when you had injured your finger.

“Shit!” You raced to the closet to grab some clothes so that you could go take the driver's test that you had been looking forward to for some time.

“y/n it's time to go! What's taking so long?” Soyeon, your workaholic mother knocked at the door of your room and nearly scared you witless.

“Almost there!” You called out while frantically thumbing through your clothes. About to have a breakdown when you couldn't find your favorite cozy Hello Kitty hoodie, your favorite shirt and your favorite pair of jeans were somehow missing as well.

“Damn it! Are they all in the laundry basket?!” You whined dramatically and donned a few random pieces of clothes, mismatched but time was not on your side presently to complain.

“y/n give me back my Converses or I'll be assisting you with your test!” Your big brother Beomgyu was beating on your door. Nearly falling into you when you opened it suddenly.

“Sheesh, is it you who's holding my clothes hostage as leverage? Give them up now! I don't have your shoes!” You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

Beomgyu dramatically shook his head. “I don't have any of your smelly clothes!”

“Uh huh, right.” You approached him with murder in your eyes.

“It's okay you can keep my shoes! Just let me live!” He raced down the hallway away from you. Thoroughly intimidated by you.

You sighed defeatedly and turned to go to the bathroom, working on your hygiene before hurrying outside to meet up with your parents who were waiting for you.

“Is everything okay, y/n?” Your father Chan asked, who always seemed aware when you weren't feeling yourself caused you to look up at him in surprise.

“She seems to have had too much time on her phone, sleeping late again.” Soyeon muttered quaintly and got into the driver's side of the car.

“Can't I speak for myself…” You rolled your eyes and sat down in the backseat of the car, buckling up and pretending to ignore your mother.

“You know you can always come to me if you need to talk? I’m always here for you, pumpkin.” Chan looked through your open window at you and gazed at you with genuine concern.

“Sure I do.” You replied softly, looking at him in earnest. Really you didn't know what you could talk about with him. First you felt you had went out last night. The place that you had been forbidden to go to. Yet your memories were fleeting and you had no idea how you had gotten back into your own bed.

With that Soyeon drove away. You gazed out the window and started to lose yourself in your head. Tuning out your big brother in the front seat talking with your mom and playing a noisy game on his phone.

‘This is going to be a long day…’ You thought to yourself and spaced out.

🌌

Hours later you were exhausted, fortunately though you were to secure a pass on your driver's test. The only high point of the day you felt. Now you were meandering through grocery store aisles to pick up ingredients for dinner.

You were turning around after picking up a few packages of frozen vegetables. Though to your horror you smacked right into a person's chest.

“Oh I'm sorry- wait…” You gasp as your eyes traversed the face of the male who was looking down at you. His face handsome and familiar at the same time.

“You're wearing…” You stepped back quickly and looked at the Hello Kitty hoodie that he was wearing. Identical to the one that you were missing.

“Me? Yes someone special to me was kind enough to lend it to me.” The stranger replied with a deep voice that seemed to wash over every cell of your body with the purpose of enchantment.

“Ah right…” You looked down at his jeans. The wash uncannily similar to yours, looking as though they fit him like capris.

You blinked when your eyes reached his shoes. The same kind of converse that Beomgyu wore.

“Uh… you're dressed well… I mean I have the same hoodie somewhere…” You shifted nervously. The elegant and graceful aura that blanketed him seemed to not quite match the clothes that he wore.

“Is that so? The clothes are nice. I know they look good on you.” He gave a charming smile. Darkness in his eyes that sparked something inside of you. A feeling of familiarity in your gut that you just couldn't put your finger on.

“Uh … nice to meet you… I should be going…” You mumbled awkwardly and clutched your groceries against yourself as if they could help you with recharging your social battery.

“Ah, what a shame I enjoyed the chat. I'm Seonghwa, I want you to know that because I believe fate will allow us to continue meeting.” A smile twitched at the corners of Seonghwa's lips.

“I don't believe in fate… Seonghwa.” You shook your head and tried to steady your breathing, making your getaway because you didn't trust him.

He watched you leave with a cocksure smile. Finding you amusing and adorable at the same time just like the first time that he met you.

'You don't have to believe in fate. But I do'

🌌

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

Oh, please now

Do this just for me, yeah

I don't ask for much

Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love, baby

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

You sang along with your playlist as you gazed out at dusk falling outside your window. The song by Sia seemed to only bring the feelings that you'd pushed down to only surface at times like now. When you were alone and no one could see you wishing to be able to venture out for a world that was larger than what you experienced, to be able to find love.

With a wistful sigh you reminded yourself that it was all fairytales. That it was safer to abide by the cynicism of your mind.

Your stomach grumbled and interrupted your melancholic contemplations. Still you ignored it, deciding to tune into YouTube instead and watch an old episode of Good Mythical Morning.

Seonghwa however was lurking outside, wanting to make sure that you were taking care of yourself. He frowns when he sees that you weren't going to get food. Deciding instead to take matters into his own hands.

At the end of the episode you heard a slapping sound against the window. Two slaps to be exact. Hesitantly you approached the window, looking at the sill in puzzlement when you see two fish neatly aligned with each other.

“Did a gull drop these?” You asked yourself out loud as if the answer would come to you from our of the void.

You peeked outside your window, missing the siren hiding in the overgrown hedge bushes that grew near your window.

Honestly you didn't know what to do with the fish that were so neatly presented before you as if it were a gift.

“I suppose I could cook these at a high enough temperature to kill the bacteria…” You trailed off thoughtfully and picked up the seafood.

Meanwhile Seonghwa was wincing in confusion, a pained grimace on his face as he shook his head.

Why ruin the fish by cooking them?

He didn't understand. But as long as you managed to eat them he was happy. Once you left the window he slipped off to go to the ocean. A place that he could go to make his plans. Plans that were necessary because he physically couldn't stay away from you for long at a time.

#ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #park seonghwa x reader #gidle soyeon #txt beomgyu #stray kids bang chan #ateez seonghwa

10 notes · View notes

milkybonya · 2 years

Text

life time _ yoshinori

order 052, anon: large banana milk tea with pudding and grass jelly for treasure's Yoshi

#: enemies to friends to lovers!, college!Yoshi and (gn) reader, reader misunderstands Yoshi, 1k+

[💌: in this edition of milky sneaks in photos of korea into their moodboards: that café photo is from one of my last days in korea, at a little goodbye outing :") also i'm sorry this feels so rushed.. it was so hard to write aH]

you and Yoshi started off on the wrong foot, and that wrong foot kept taking more steps in the wrong direction until... Yoshi became some kind of enemy in your eyes. well, you avoided him like the plague and got annoyed if you ever had to be in his presence for longer than a minute. i think that's the equivalent of enemies, right?

this mismatched relationship started in first year, when you were going a little more out of your way to make friends. you would greet almost all your seatmates, classmates, and anyone you would come across. Yoshi happened to be one of those people.

"hey, are you in this department, too?" you asked him.

he had approached a booth your department was running, and you were excited at the chance to possibly finally make a friend. yet, no one was able to see the earbuds in the boy's ears. his sideburns and fluffy hair hid the bluetooth earbuds perfectly.

he couldn't hear what you were saying.

you tried again, thinking you were a little too quiet.

"hey, i'm y/n, what's your name?"

no response.

"here to see the booth?"

no response, again, as he flipped through some pamphlets.

you were feeling super embarrassed and angry. what right did he have to ignore you like that?

so, you left the booth, feeling upset.

the next time you stumbled across the silver-haired boy was in the cafeteria. he was in front of you in line and didn't notice that you were behind him.

he elbowed you when he grabbed a tray, took the last of the side dish you really like, and turned away from the serving area so aggressively he almost flipped your tray.

but again, you didn't know that the boy simply didn't see you. he was so lost in his thoughts, having done poorly on a quiz, that he didn't know his actions were so rude to the person behind him.

at this point, you thought he hated you. in fact, you had tried greeting him, but were met with silence and the view of him almost whacking you with his tray. he definitely hated you, at least that's what you thought.

how could someone be so rude?

you decided you would hate him back.

when Yoshi sat next to you in your new lecture, you were confused. so many empty seats and he chose the one beside you?

"hi... i think i've seen you around campus a few times but we never met. are you in my department? i'm Yoshi."

you scoffed as he extended out a hand to you, returning to the books you were taking out of your bag.

Yoshi's cheeks reddened as he retracted his hand. he grew quiet and decided not to talk to you again.

for the rest of that semester, he continued sitting beside you even though the two of you would never talk. you don't know why you even let him sit beside you, either.

when you'd see him on campus or you'd cross paths with him, you'd purposely bump into his shoulder. the rude boy needed a taste of his own damn medicine!

meanwhile, Yoshi was still confused. he saw how sweet you were when you interacted with everyone else, but he didn't get why you were so mean to him. so one day, he decided to ask you.

it was just before your lecture. he was sitting beside you again, and he turned to you, clearing his throat.

"y/n... can i ask why you hate me so much?" he asked.

you froze, truly shocked. did he really not know why, when he was the one who started it?

"maybe ask yourself why you're so rude and obnoxious, first," you said, throwing him off.

Yoshi could never describe himself as rude and obnoxious. he was extremely confused.

as he blinked at you in response, you sighed.

"could you give me examples of times when i was rude?" he asked.

this being the first time you really heard his voice, he sounded angelic and you felt slightly bad for being so harsh towards him... but he started it!

"you ignored me when we were both at our department booth. you whacked me with your tray in the cafeteria. do you really need more?" you explained.

Yoshi went silent, trying to recall those interactions with you. but since both times, he hadn't even known you were there, he wasn't able to remember.

"i did go to our department booth in first year, but i remember wearing my bluetooth earbuds, so i couldn't hear anything. and the caf... i don't remember that happening. maybe i didn't see you, again? i'm really sorry, though. i swear i didn't mean to do any of that."

it was your turn to blink at Yoshi now, as you realized that he might be right. maybe he genuinely just didn't see you in both instances, and now you had made those 2 events his whole personality.

oh no.

"oh.... i think i've completely misunderstood you. should we just start again?" you attempted.

Yoshi nodded, making his bangs fall over his eyes while he grinned at you.

"i'm y/n, nice to meet you," you said, holding out your hand.

Yoshi chuckled before taking your hand and introducing himself, too.

sitting next to Yoshi in class was now a lot nicer. the two of you would actually talk and help each other. you even saw Yoshi outside of class sometimes to study together.

then, you'd see him even more often, like to eat when you had time and to play video games at each other's houses. the two of you became known as the inseparable pair in your department.

you would nap together in the library, your head on his arm and his head on top of a pile of books. you would cook and meal prep together, almost setting the campus kitchen on fire and being banned after you accidentally put a plastic kettle on the stove. you would do your groceries together, go out to cafés together, go thrifting together... just about anything.

and maybe somewhere along the way, you had kinda devloped feelings for him. maybe just a little... kinda. i mean who could blame you when he'd always listen to the playlists you sent him, he'd show up with whatever food you craved when you told him you were craving it, and he'd gently wake you up from your naps when he knew you still had work to do.

one day, as you chewed on a snack while beating Yoshi in a video game, he asked you something.

"y/n... is it just me who feels so comfortable when we're together?"

"if you're trying to make me flustered so i'll lose, it ain't working," you said, trying to focus even more.

Yoshi's heart was racing and he lost his grip on the controller. it fell to the ground and hit a button that exited you both out of the game. you groaned seeing the lobby screen show up.

"Yoshi, what did you do?!"

when you saw his serious expression, you froze.

"hey... what were you trying to tell me?" you asked.

"y/n... i feel so safe with you," he mumbles, fidgeting with his fingers.

your heart raced, but you still reached out to hold his hands in yours.

"Yoshi... i feel the same. is everything okay?"

"yeah, y/n i just... feel so full of love right now i could burst," he said with a frown.

"full of love? for who?"

a moment of silence passed before the boy responded.

"for you."

you let go of Yoshi's hands and he looked up at you, scanning your face.

"is that... okay?" he asked.

"Yoshi... i feel the same. i like you, a lot," you replied.

Yoshi grinned at you, and you felt relieved seeing his smile. you cupped his face in your hands and squished his cheeks.

"it's good we love each other and feel so safe around each other. i guess we can be together for a life time!" you said.

"for a life time? but today is just our first day?"

you lightly bit Yoshi's nose as he yelped, falling back onto the couch. for some reason, even if it wasn't forever, you felt like you and Yoshi would last a long time.

85 notes · View notes

bobfloydsbabe · 6 months

Note

I'm in the 'moo'd for a board, my dear! 🐮

And I’m in the moo’d to provide you with one, my love. This is a bit of a mismatched board, but there are definitely some dark academia vibes. I hope you like it!

send me a 🐮 and i will refresh my pinterest and give u my first four pics as a random moodboard

#mail #answered #ryebecca #pinterest moodboard ask game

4 notes · View notes

jenfaery · 3 months

Note

Hey! Send ur top moodboard, least favorite moodboard, and most mentioned blog moodboard. Spread this to other people and wishes for you ❤️ Everyone loves your blog!

heyhey!! here u goo:

︵‿︵‿୨ top moodboard ୧‿︵‿︵

recently made it and i just love it soo much!!!

︵‿︵‿୨ least favorite moodboard ୧‿︵‿︵

it's really mismatched so i don't really like it and it kinda old so i didn't really delete it

︵‿︵‿୨ most mentioned ୧‿︵‿︵

put alot of effort so it turned out great <33

#mari answers #<333

5 notes · View notes

cxttlefishcxller · 7 months

Text

OC Questions Tag!

Thank you once again to @residentdormouse for reminding me that my blog can and probably should be for more than just me throwing things I like into a mismatched pile like Labyrinth's Trash Lady >.>

Anyways, since I'm attempting to crack my way through several at least two fics, I'll do two OCs just for funzies. XD

(Rules: answer the questions and tag some people, all that fun stuff)

Piper Danielle Crain (The Stand)

5 words to physically describe your OC (do you have a drawing? even better!)

Cautious. Giving. Optimistic. Loyal. Witty.

Piper more or less contains multitudes, and those multitudes are Very Anxious All The Time. But she's got a quick mind and will lay her heart and her efforts down for anyone that asks her to, if she calls them a friend. I haven't really had a faceclaim for my characters in a long time, and no one really fits her as well as I'd like, but I have this adorable art my friend @jaiesondurantkross drew, and I also have moodboards I made!

Who inspired your OC? (can be your mum to a very famous fungi)

Honestly a lot of things! Pipes started out as a Supernatural OC that I borrowed for this one-off Stand fic I started as a silly springboard-project off of a friend's fic, and she just.......got a life of her own. And a plot. And a few AUs. I might have a problem. |D;;; But I put a lot of myself into her -- she holds a lot of my insecurities and a lot of my shortfalls, but she has much more determination and gumption and sheer "fuck you" energy.

She's also got some vibes that align with one of my favorite characters in anything ever, Shadow Moon from Neil Gaiman's "American Gods". They both have their lives torn away from their grasp before being thrown wAY over their heads into a battle much bigger and much broader than they realize. And in response they just. Keep going. Sure they'll buck and dig their heels and bitch about their lot, but they keep moving all the same because doing anything else just isn't an option in their minds. I like that about them.

Give me a song to define your OC (I will listen to it to enter in your WIP mood!)

I'll forever hear Inkpot Gods by The Amazing Devil as Piper's song. It's the thing that inspired the entire second act of her story and gave me the biggest revelation about her character. But David Bowie's Life On Mars resonates deeply with her, and is one of her favorite songs. (She also has a playlist right over here, jussayin)

If I met your OC on the street how would they greet me?

A brief smile and small wave, probably. She's not the greatest with starting conversations, but if you rope her in, she gets comfortable pretty easy. Just show her some candidness and get a bit silly and she'll open up in no time at all. (Not unlike that "oop you showed me affection, now you'll never get rid of me" thing going around tiktok forever ago)

Can your OC be your best friend? Why?

I'd think so! She's got a lot of me in her, and her biggest passions are built around some of my own interests. Though we might grate on each other real hard if our neurodivergencies decides to collide. jfkdl;safd

1 adjective and 1 noun to describe your OC

Determined. Blanket.

Percy Stone / Aurella Reyne (Game of Thrones)

5 words to physically describe your OC (do you have a drawing? even better!)

Resourseful. Shrewd. Loyal. Proud. Frank.

Percy's nothing if not a survivor. She's a little too roughly-hewn to be much of a politician and she's really bad at simpering or fawning, but she's got a quick mind and a lot of determination to do what she needs to do to stay ahead. Despite this, her heart is her Achilles Heel, and she will put much of her own self-preservation aside for the very, very few people she sees as her friends (mostly Tyrion and Podrick, though Margaery hedges that line later on down the road.)

She also doesn't have a faceclaim (celebrities are all like. Movie-star Gorgeous! All of my girls are a little on the plainer side of pretty) but she's got moodboards as well!

Who inspired your OC? (can be your mum to a very famous fungi)

Honestly I got a lot of her vibes from quite a few period pieces I love -- Reign, Merlin, Tudor-adjacent media, things like that) she's not inspired by any one person in particular, but I just wanted someone who was more or less coded to be in the background as a supporting character, making her way to some position of power through a series of ever-increasing plans and mishaps. Genuinely starting from the bottom and having to learn how to be bigger and bigger, filling roles she never dreamed of in order to survive.

Give me a song to define your OC (I will listen to it to enter in your WIP mood!)

The Rains of Castamere doesn't count probably despite her whole "I'll slip into the archives of a dead House and no one's alive to tell anyone that I was never in the family tree" plan, but this cover in particular always hits me with the heaviest Percy feels jfdk;lsafd If we're going for character-study vibes, though, I've got a soft spot in my heart for Eden Espinosa's Waiting In The Wings. She's got a lot of hope and dreams in her heart, even if it's buried under a heap of cynicism and hard life lessons.

If I met your OC on the street how would they greet me?

Realtalk......she'd probably just do the smile-nod and keep on going. She's definitely the type to not get into conversations with strangers if she could help it, but kindness begets kindness......even if she's a tougher nut to crack.

Can your OC be your best friend? Why?

I'd think she and I could be friends! Not as close as Piper, but if she got comfortable enough to relax, we'd be able to drink tea and talk shit about Westeros' major politicians in no time at all. XD

1 adjective and 1 noun to describe your OC

Driven. Dagger.

No-pressure tagging @jaiesondurantkross and @alabaster-the-crow, if y'all wanna <3

#fef's ocs #my art #piper crain #percy stone #realtalk I need to work on both of these fics like yesterday but the word machine is reAL DAMN BROKE Y'ALL #Percy in particular is going through some shifting and changes in her core personality too so this is super helpful actually #game of thrones #the stand

3 notes · View notes