#used to play it all the time on my tablet...

[angelofthenight01]

The witch's secret

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

genre: fluff  ||     warnings: none

Summary: You're best friends with Pietro and Wanda is avoiding you as much as possible.  Little do you know that the reason is that the witch is falling in love with you.

The stale, recycled air of the Avengers training room hits you like a damp rag as you step inside. You wipe the sweat from your brow with the corner of your shirt, already feeling the familiar ache in your muscles. It’s been a long morning, dodging energy blasts and deflecting vibranium projectiles, all courtesy of your best friend, Pietro. He’s leaning against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips as he examines his nails like some haughty prince.

"Took you long enough," he crows, pushing himself off the wall and stretching his arms high above his head. "I was starting to think you’d finally given up on keeping up with my god-like speed."

You roll your eyes, already used to his theatrics. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Quicksilver. Some of us need sleep." You grab your water bottle, taking a long swig. You’ve known Pietro since… well, since forever. You met at one of those weird, half-way houses run by the government when you were kids. You’d bonded over shared experiences and the inability to understand why everyone was so obsessed with being “normal”. You’d been inseparable ever since. And, naturally, that meant you’d gotten to know his twin sister, Wanda, very well too.

She’s… different. A chaotic storm wrapped up in a quiet demeanor. She’s a puzzle you’d gladly spend a lifetime trying to solve. However, lately, solving her has been like trying to catch smoke with a butterfly net. She’s been avoiding you, and not in a mild, subtle way. This is avoidance of Olympic proportions. If you’re in the kitchen, she’s suddenly urgently needed in the library. If you’re on the training floor, she’s busy meditating on the roof. It’s as if you’ve suddenly become radioactive.

"So," Pietro says, breaking your thoughts. “What’s the workout for today, oh, mighty planner of our pain?”

You shrug, pulling out the tablet and swiping the screen. "I was thinking a bit of hand-to-hand, maybe some sparring. What do you think?"

"As long as it involves me winning spectacularly, I'm in." He flashes that trademark grin, and you can’t help but chuckle.

You spend the next hour getting pummeled by Pietro’s ridiculous speed and impressive strength - but you also get some good hits yourself. You know, he may be fast, but you have been learning from the best. As you’re catching your breath, you hear a door open behind you, and your heart skips a beat, just like it always does.

It's not Wanda. It's Kate Bishop. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and a look on her face that spells trouble. You like Kate, she’s funny, quick-witted, and a total bad-ass with a bow and arrow. She's also Wanda's best friend, which is why you’re sure she’s about to deliver some cryptic message or distraction.

"Hey, guys," she says, her tone a little too casual. "Wanda needs my help… with… uh… quantum physics equations."

Pietro raises an eyebrow. "Since when does Wanda dabble in theoretical physics?"

Kate's face is a picture of forced nonchalance. "Since… now? Yeah, she’s on a real quantum kick. Anyway, gotta go, quantum stuff, you know." With that, she’s gone, leaving you and Pietro alone again.

“Quantum physics,” Pietro says, shaking his head and chuckling. “That girl is so awkward. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s trying really hard to avoid you.”

You almost choke on your water. “Avoid me? Why would she avoid me?” you ask, trying to sound casual, as if you hadn’t noticed.

Pietro shrugs. “Beats me. Maybe you smell.” He wrinkles his nose dramatically, making you laugh.

The next few weeks continue in the same vein. Every time you try to talk to Wanda, she vanishes as if she's a figment of your imagination. You find yourself increasingly frustrated, not just because you have no idea what you did to annoy her, but because you really miss her company.

One afternoon, you’re attempting to meditate in the common room, hoping to find some inner peace when you hear footsteps. You open one eye to see Kate Bishop walking towards you, a determined set to her jaw. You see the mischievous glint in her eye, and brace yourself.

"Okay, look," she says, grabbing the cushion next to you and sinking down. "This whole thing has gone on long enough."

You raise an eyebrow, wondering if she’s finally about to let you in on what’s going on.

"Wanda likes you," Kate blurts out, her cheeks turning a shade of pink.

Your eyes widen. "Likes me? Like… as in a friend?" you ask, even if you already know the answer.

Kate groans. "No, as in, she’s completely head-over-heels smitten with you. She’s been losing her mind about it ever since you saved her from that rampaging Ultron drone last year."

Your stomach does a backflip. “Wait, what? But why is she avoiding me?”

Kate sighs. "Because she's Wanda. She’s not good at this whole 'feeling' thing, especially when they're feelings of the lovesick variety. She's terrified you’ll find out, and then laugh at her or reject her, or whatever other dramatic scenario she's conjured up in her head. So, she decided the best course of action is to run away."

You shake your head, a smile playing at the corner of your mouth. "That's... incredibly Wanda." Something warm blooms in your chest, partly from the revelation, partly from the fact that, if Kate is to be believed, your feelings for Wanda are reciprocated.

"So, what now?" you ask.

Kate grins, that mischievous glint back in her eyes. "Now, we set a trap. She has got to face this. And maybe… she could actually go on a date or something? She’s been miserable, poor thing.”

The "trap," as it turns out, involves a suspiciously placed book in the library, a strategically timed fire alarm, and a very confused Pietro. You find yourself facing Wanda by the garden, which, somehow, you’d been guided to under the pretext of a "minor training accident".

She's standing by the rose bushes, her back to you, her shoulders tense.

"Wanda," you say softly, approaching cautiously.

She turns, and her eyes are wide. She’s beautiful. As always. And your heart is about to burst.

"I… I…" she stammers, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

You take a deep breath. "I know," you say.

Her brows furrow. "You know?"

"Yeah, Kate told me. About… everything."

Her cheeks flush a vibrant red. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I’m so embarrassing. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just… you're so… I…" She trails off, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You step closer, reaching out and gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Wanda," you say, your voice a low hum. "I'm not uncomfortable, I'm… I’m glad. Because… I feel the same way. I’ve been… completely, overwhelmingly, kind of in love with you since forever.”

Her eyes widen further, and a small, hopeful smile flickers across her face. "You… you do?"

You smile, nodding. “I do.”

The silence stretches between you, charged with an energy you both feel. You lean closer, and she does too, and then you’re kissing. Her lips are soft and sweet, and the world disappears around you. It’s perfect, and magical, and everything you’ve ever wanted.

As you pull away for air, you hear a snort behind you. You turn to see Pietro standing nearby, his face a mask of exaggerated disgust.

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy," he groans, putting a hand over his eyes. "I’m going to be sick. My best friend and my sister? It's disturbing, revolting, and completely not acceptable. I need to go drink something and forget I ever saw this.” He is clearly overdoing it, and you end up bursting into laughter, which is soon joined by Wanda's giggle.

You look at her, and your heart flips over again. This is it. This awkward, beautiful mess of a romance. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ss-shitstorm]

Sorry the next chapter of Bread is taking so long here's an excerpt

Your almost friend pulls you up the final step, pausing at the railing to allow you to get your bearings. How thoughtful. It's every bit as cheerfully chaotic up here, seats, barstools and stage all occupied by scaled-down bots in varying stages and sorts of intoxication.

Actually, the crowd in front of the stage seems more densely populated then it’s downstairs duplicate, tossing their version of currency at a pink and more pink femme scattering violet sparks as she spins suspended by only her hooked wrist and ankle.

Same shit, different stage. You swallow thickly, following Starscream into then around the crowd, wincing as a rust colored bot spins around on his barstool to loudly wolf-whistle at you two, while his buddy sloughs off onto the floor like wet play dough during his own attempt. Holograms or not, they seem to walk, talk and fuck like their living counterparts, and having a hyper-realistic crowd to practice in front of for the first time ever is giving you the heebie jeebies. Especially since they seem cognizant of your exotic-by-proxy status, prompting hushed whispers and elbow-jabs as you walk by.

“Yoooo is that an organic? Primus it’s an organic.”

“SHOW US YOUR PLUMBUS-!”

“Shut the FRAG up SmackJaw, they don’t all have those!”

“God, did you have to put so many people in here?!” you hiss, watching the minicons in the back rows leaving their seats to scoot closer up front as you join your companion on the stage.

“How else do you expect to get used to it? At least this audience won’t cause a problem.” He illustrates his point by kneeling down on the ledge, which “Smackjaw” is attempting to drunkenly climb, and proceeds to smack him directly in his jaw hard enough he falls backwards onto the floor.

Your own jaw drops in horror. Then disbelief as he stumbles back to his peds, blinks a few times, then goes back to cheering in a repetitive NPC fashion.

“Alright everyone-!“ Shouts Airplane man as he rights himself. “This is a LESSON, not a show. You can stay if you want, our little rookie here would benefit immensely from the pressure if you do-“ he gestures toward your shaking self as one would a frightened rabbit, hopefully not one held over an overpass. “-but they’re NOT exposing their plumbus.”

That’s enough of a deterrent for some, but not all. Smackjaw and a few others stay rooted in place while their peers shuffle to the bar or the back, where someone had unleashed a multicolored glowing beach ball to toss around.

“I can spawn a few more helium lob-balls for them, if you’d like.” Offers your teacher, who’s now leaning against the frontmost pole with his arms crossed.

“I-“ Deep breathes. Deep, deep breathes, until you hyperventilate and pass out. You exhale shakily, biting your trembling lip. “-no that’s….that’s okay.”

“You do realize how low the stakes are, don’t you?” he raises an optical ridge. “You concoct more deadly things in your lab on a daily basis and make a hobby of trying to die. Where exactly do you get off being petrified by a bunch of programs?”

He's right and you know it. But tell that to the part of your brain responsible for social anxiety, public speaking and removing clothing in public anywhere other than in front of Garbage man’s garbage gaze. “I don’t. But it’s…it’s different, okay?!”

“I know it is. Appealing to logic works for some bot’s jitters, but not others. I suppose you fall into the “others” category.” He steps off the pole, over to you and kneels down, much to your confusion. “Sit down for a moment, would you?”

You do as told, sliding into a shaky mess on the floor. “Why?”

“Because I’m giving you a medicinal solution to your jitters.” He says, opening his servo to reveal half of a Valium tablet.

Oh boy. Dr. Feelgood at it again. “That’s gonna take too long to start working.”

“If your INTAKE in the orifice you cram it into, then yes. But I’ve done my research of this substance and its bio-availability to your species. There’s other ways that, while reducing the efficacy a bit, will send it speedrunning into your system.”

You choke on nothing. “I’m…I’m not putting it in my ass.”

“Vector-sigma no! No. Why is it always feces and fecal accessories with you?!” he retches.” That’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

He answers by abruptly closing his servo around the tablet, opening it once more to reveal he’d crushed it to powder. He then procures a thin metal tube like the one you’d seen Knockout use, and offers it to you.

“Insufflate it into your olfactory organ. It should hit in five kliks tops, peak in a quarter of a groon. If you come down while we’re still working, I can give you the other half.”

Understandably, you’ve got reservations. Reservations that are reviewed and disregarded in a manner of moments, because you can’t be wasting anymore time on this. You’re learning to pole dance in a cat costume from a sentient Airplane to save a rabbit from a perverted meth kingpin mayor you now sell alien chocolate narcotics to, and none of those things should have ever come together to make a sentence. If snorting sedatives out of Airplane man’s cupped servos is going to get you done with this thing and back to your other, equally stupid jobs faster, then you’d be even stupider to not do it.

“Okay-“ you say, tube already in your hand as you push the tip into your nostril, close the other one, and proceed to clean the powder out of his hands.

You’d expected it to burn, probably due to the stabilizers to keep it in pill form. You hadn’t expected it to punch you in the back of your mouth through your nose, making your eyes water as it congeals, oozes, then drips down the back of your throat, where it also burns. You take the tube out, groaning, sniveling and clutching your head as you try to get to your feet, only to be firmly held in place.

“Not yet.” He takes the tube, roping his massive arm around both your shoulders like a lead blanket. “Stay put till it kicks in, then several moments after. Once you’re certain the room isn’t going to start spinning, or once it’s stopped, then I’ll help you up.”

You don’t try to argue, waiting impatiently for the familiar, dreamy, I-never-had-any-fucks-to-begin-with- feeling to come creeping up. Or flying-jump-kick you in the dick.

It seems to be a combination of the two; a lucid apathy setting in the precise moment you open your mouth to ask “how long-?” Only to have a “Wow…okay, yeah…wow.” flop out instead as the sensation surges, nearly knocking your seated ass backwards. Your limbs aren’t limp marionette strings this time, but the muscles in your back relax enough your torso struggles to keep you upright.

Fortunately, your lead blanket has equally few qualms about becoming a backrest. He shifts his weight, bracing the arm not slung around you to hold himself upright so you can lean into his chassis.

You wonder how long he’ll bother to stay like this until he gets bored, impatient, or decides you’re gross again and shoves you out of his lap. You wonder what exactly it’ll mean if he doesn’t do any of those things and stays put. You also wonder when exactly the last time you’d felt this at ease with someone, drugs and death machine nonwithstanding. Because despite everything, you’re experiencing a brief, Bodhisattva level of peace.

“I…uh….yeah..s'good.” you begin so very sagely. “I think I’m…ready.” you flit your (only slightly) blurred vision to your backrest’s face. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He doesn’t move you, but retracts one of his arms, rolling his neck with a wince. “Not that your minuscule frame could cause any damage, but I’ll need you to return the favor. Sitting here has given me a bit of a crick.”

Blinking not entirely in sync, you crane your head back a bit further than it should go to see him reaching his free arm and servo into his subspace, emerging with a container of dusky blue powder.

“That’s…” you pause, tongue unpleasantly thick and dry against the roof of your mouth. “…that’s not Valium, is it?”

“I’ll consider that a rhetorical query.” He says, sparing you the associated look he’d give if he didn’t. “It’s nucleon nail in freebase form. A bit of a pain to evaporate and salt out of the injector, but far easier to dose out in this manner. Especially if you’re not planning on being unconscious.”

Like your long-suffering, still-recovering B1ll. The same thread of concern unraveled for your assistant tangles for your current companion, though knit with strands of incredulousness. “You’re sedating yourself?” you ask, lolling into the crevice of his side and elbow as his massive-by-comparison form shifts around you to bring the container in front of both your faces. “You’re the teacher and you’re sedating yourself?”

“Firstly, I’m relaxing myself.” He gives the container several firm shakes before popping the lid open. “I’m taking half of a recreational dose, and less than 1/4th of a therapeutic one. Secondly, it’s not just for relaxing. It’s for pain management. One doesn’t live through a war that spans planetary life cycles without incurring multiple injuries, not all of which heal properly or stay healed. Grind-dancing is likely to aggravate at least some of the scars I’ve brought back from the battlefield. He pauses, loosing a bitter growl under his breath. “Or those acquired closer to home.”

He's referring to the maulings your Mastiff dolls out. Both ones you’d failed to prevent, and ones that occurred before your planet hosted sentient life. Your heart tries to plummet, the diazepam slowing it’s fall to a gradual tumble. “I…okay yeah. Sorry.” You blurt out sheepishly. “I’ll raise my hand before I ask another stupid question.”

“Yes, well I’m not sending you to detention quite yet.” He plucks the metal tube still held loosely in your hand, before turning it palm-up towards the ceiling, cupping it in his servo. “Ready to reciprocate?”

You’ve less than zero issues doing that, but the sheer insanity of the situation still gives you pause. Snorting sedatives and alien pain relievers with an alien in a holographic representation of an alien strip club may well be the most ludicrous thing you’ve had happen to you to date, and considering the batshit ordeals you’ve been through and continue to go through in order to protect, serve, and serve your captors fecal-based-hydrocarbons, that’s fucking saying something.

This doesn’t feel like an ordeal anymore, though. In fact, it feels like the exact opposite. It feels special, intimate. The way two beings that genuinely find relief in each other’s presence feel on an excursion planned for exclusively the two of them.

It feels fun.

“Sure.” You hold both hands beneath the container in wait. “I’m guessing the uh…mass displacement doesn’t affect the dosage?”

“Not if I don’t revert to my full height till after it’s been metabolized.” He uses the tube to scrape a dime-sized amount of out the capsule and into your palms. ” Before then, it’ll be reduced to 1/10th of it’s efficacy and I’d get more pain relief from being bludgeoned in the back of the helm.”

There’s probably some fascinating physics behind that. Physics you’re not going to dissect because it falls squarely outside of your jurisdiction of mad chemist and alien cocaine mirror. Instead you stare transfixed, watching the twinkling powder, cool and oddly ticklish to the touch collect in your palms till he closes the lid.

“You really don’t have any reservations about touching organics, do you?” you ask while he cranes his head and neck forward over your shoulders, bringing the tube to his face with one servo, and raising your cradled hands with another.

He grants you a sidelong glance over your own shoulder, lambent Japanese carmine optics narrowing in amusement.

“You’ve already been in my cockpit, haven’t you?” he asks with a grin that makes your lungs stop working. “Were you acutely toxic, I would’ve been poisoned well before now. But honestly-“

He pauses, lowering his helm, shuttering his optics, and vacuuming the powder into his nostril with a soft grunt that sounds the way satin feels. “-you’ve proven to be more of an antidote, haven’t you?”

He lowers the tube and your hands, sniffling incessantly and turning wide, owlishly blinking optics toward the ceiling. At a loss for words, you don’t comment further. Somewhat because that last line was capable of scooping up someone 3 tiers out of your league at any club, alien or no. But mostly because the expression he makes, clutching the side of his face, optics half-shuttered and biting softly into the plush of his metal lips, grants the realization that out-of-your-league someone owns the lap you’re currently sitting in.

Starscream is attractive. You’ve witnessed literally everyone on the ship looking for too long when he walks away, bends over, or puts the "Airplane” in Airplane man and takes off into the stratosphere. And like many ‘isms blessed with their race’s beauty standards by default, he’s also prideful. You doubt he wants anyone beyond the CMO to know he has injuries or pain he’s forced to medicate for. That you do know paints the picture you’ve just witnessed something fairly vulnerable. A vulnerability he’d not only allowed you to see, but trusted you to participate in. Since he trusts everyone in his faction about as well as you do(which, beyond Soundwave and Lazerbeak, is no one), your mutual lack thereof functions a bit like an olive branch.

This whole setup is an olive branch, actually. He’d not only not asked why, but nearly jumped at the opportunity to give you lessons, then dosed out anxiety medication he keeps on hand for you specifically, and was comfortable enough to eat nose candy out of your hands without a second thought. Comfortable enough to leave you lounging against his chassis with his arm slung over your shoulder. To absentmindedly thread his talons through the strands of hair that falls at the nape of your neck. To guide you to the epiphany that, while your attempts to expose the fleshie-fragger your guardians had spoken of hadn’t yielded fruit, they had unintentionally narrowed your search down to a razor-thin line.

A line so thin, perhaps, it could only be traversed by stilettos. Like the ones attached to the disgustingly handsome SIC languidly rolling himself out from under you, getting to his feet, and offering his servo to help you do the same.

"Oh god, it might be Starscream." You think, dawning horror and trepidation freezing in your veins like ice as you take his offered servo and allow yourself to be pulled upright.

“Oh god-” you think again, horror and trepidation thawing to exhilaration as he leads you to the pole, servo squeezing your hand not enough to cause discomfort, but too tightly to ignore. ”-it might be Starscream.”

[happytripper]

getting used to playing d4dj on my phone ^^

[puffpawstries]

I don't know why but I keep having this crazy urge to stream osomatsu-san drawing/working on ososan art that most half of it being hanichi on my part... But I also do have like refs I am working on and I am insane wanting to draw some of the ososan cast of characters but any stream would be on the weekend! Saturday at most and my time zone is Central Daylight Time (edit: I stream on twitch)

check tags for my insane thoughts of chaos!

[scarlettcryptid]

ok aki queue has eniugh for 3 weeks my hands are freezinggg

[sonykatzen]

redownloaded csp and drew the most banger laios ever chat i am so excited to post it you have no idea

[laotwormz]

when lin lie was this age his father and brother went missing

[bigfrogdraws]

It'll come back around

[outlying-hyppocrate]

SOBBING. whoever invented stomach aches, fuck you

[selfnss]

[arctic-hands]

Say what you want about small children and screentime–and I agree to it to some extent–, but I learned how to use a computer at 4 (thanks to my favorite game, Fisher Price Dollhouse) and learned to type at six, and now I don't have to look at the keyboard and can at least do basic maintenance, or at least look up the issue and try from there

[thecodeveronica]

I'm still so sad that Apple Arcade has exclusives for series I like 😭

That Castlevania: Grimoire of Souls game and the Sonic Dream Team game, forever out of my reach...

[candybunnieholic]

I’m so freaking happy because FGO showed up on the play store on my new tablet which means that the problem was my old tablet since it had disappeared from the play store but other than that I’m just so excited to playing it again even though it’s going to take me a long time to catch up with the lostbelt too.

[psychiatricwarfare]

one of our fav clients hasnt been acting like himself all week & everyone's super worried about him. the nurse checked him out n found nothing & he shook his head 'no' when we asked if he felt sick but he's been sleeping all throughout program which he's never done before. we hope everything's okay with him & he gets better soon, we miss my daily sensory sessions with him.

[nemesyaaa]

S2!rafe cameron x kook!drug dealer! reader

summary ; so....reader's snorting a line of coke on rafe's dick, and rafe taking pill of ecstasy on reader's pussy...just two losers getting high together (2k3 words.)

warnings : mentions and using of drugs. smut (without real plot.). oral (f. receiving). minors dni.

"so why did you call me? need me for somethin’?"

“ oh please, you’re the one that needs something, when have i needed you for anything?“ after all, you were the dealer, and it was your client so you were right. “ and if you didn’t want to hear from me, you probably shouldn’t have given me your number?”

“ so what, you're just bored ? ”

“ i have something for you. ”

you shook your head, sitting comfortably on the edge of your bed. with one hand, you waved a bag with colorful tablets inside in front of him with a smile falling on your lips.

rafe's eyes lit up, as if suddenly your call was worth it.

“ it’s kinda sad that your face only lights up like that when you’re about to take drugs. ” you rolled your gaze, realizing that you now had his full attention. "you want it? of course, you do. we all know rafe cameron would do anything to get high."

“ and you like that. ” he shutted. “ when your ass is spoiled by my money.”

he came closer to take the bag but you moved your hand away, being much faster than him. he gave you one of his confused looks, his jaw clenching, all frustrated by your move. “don’t play with me like that. just give it to me.”

“ mmh, let me think ? no.” you ordered. “ you want it ? earn it. no kook privilege here.”

rafe started laughing, a nasally laughter that loudly echoed in the room, as his tongue hollowed the side of his inner left cheek with a smirk. “ i don’t beg, quit being a bitch, i don’t beg to have to ‘earn’ this shit. ”

you looked at him warily, knowing full well that he would. “ i think you’re gonna start listening, because you’d do anything to get what you want. if not, it doesn’t really matter to me, i have plenty of clients from figure eight who will pay me twice the amount you do. i just have to call them right now, just give me a sec... ”

his need for drugs was kinda sad,and you felt slightly guilty for using it against him. but as a businesswoman,you easily learned to take advantage of others' vulnerabilities, to use their weaknesses. you had been raised like that, there was nothing you could do about it. and it wasn't like rafe cameron was a nice guy. it was even he who encouraged all this violence within the island.

he finally knelt down, his icy glossy-teared gaze meeting yours, his lower lips trembling and begging you to shove the damn pill in his mouth. he could almost drool on the floor because he was so desperate for this shit.

“it’s immediately less fun when you’re the one begging.” you commented, noticing his blue eyes shine because of the impatience you were putting him through.

“ i did what you asked me to. so no more playing bef…”

“ before what? what could you possibly do? kill me? you gonna try to drown me, or maybe strangle me.. people talk y’know. look, i don’t have time for your bullshit, I’m in charge right now, this little power struggle isn’t going to get you anywhere. i’m not one of your little friends and i’m not scared of you. i don’t need your money but you need drugs, so who do you think is going to win here? get it together or get out. ”

rafe cameron hated this feeling, the way you making him feel shitty, the way you felt so superior to him with your worlds. it was — too much, too humiliating for him.

he was seething, a mixture of rage and sadness, but above all need and weakness. he needed this drug, as much as he needed you to give it to him now. you were terribly making the blood boil in his bulging veins. his body was tense, and inside his mouth, it was foaming. you could see he could die from this. he would have liked to be able to use violence on you, but he was incapable of doing so. you held him helpless.

"you’ve never been in this position before, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it."

you brushed aside the strands of his bangs. “just look at that face, you are pretty, i’ll admit it” you traced his lips with your thumb, brushing it softly. with a mocking tone, you said. “ i don’t get how anyone could be intimidated by you, you’re such a baby. or maybe you’re just like this with me. ”

“ don’t call me that. ”

“then don’t give me a reason too. you’re not better than anyone. now relax, let’s just have fun." and you placed a colored pill against your tongue before pulling your lips over his, slowly sliding and driving the drug into his mouth.

you pressed your tongue against his in a mixture of dripping drool, pushing the colored pill against both of your mouths as they sought each other, sharing each other's taste. you claimed him, as you slobbering directly in his tongue, sucking the pill that had passed from one mouth to the other, from his saliva to yours, slipping in your lips and outside his, before returning to him. “ open up, rafe.” and you released the drug down his throat.

you leaned back, a trickle of saliva stretching from his tongue to your parted and swollen lips. you were breathing heavily as if he had stolen your breath during the kiss.

“ we're not done yet. " you replied in his ear, giving his earlobe a lick.

you sat on the edge of the bed again, removing your skirt and panties before spreading your thighs to let him view your perfect and sweet pussy. you placed a new pill on your tongue, caged around your two fingers before a load of drool caused the drug to slide just between your cunt.

“oops, so clumsy.” you scoffed. " you wanna get that or should i ?"

he moved closer, settling between your thighs but you grabbed his face, gently squishing his cheeks like a little boy. “i know with an ego as big as yours it’s hard to say thank you. you should try using your manners once in a while ”

“ stop trying to mess with me, just give me the damn pill.”

“ mmh…asking like that ? surely not. ”

you wedged the drug between the slits of your wet cunt lips. you could feel rafe’s burning gaze on your thighs, but also that this whole situation was turning him on deeply. drugs as much as sex.

he needed that taste again. he was addicted to it. “come on, get your shit.”

and you didn’t need to say it twice, before his mouth was rushed against your pussy, claiming it as his tongue prodding your lips to find the aphrodisiac candy. you moaned at the feeling of him wrecking your dripping cunt, lapping in it through the pill of drugs. you clenched around him, as he slurped into your soppy folds. he slipped it into his mouth, before giving your pussy a strong and heavy lick, while he gripped your left thigh. his nose was big enough to lolling your clit, getting him so ticklish, to gently caressing your skin. the wet tip brushing it. your hips moving at his messy pace. the way he sucked you was just — so good.

you were completely on cloud, the vision of his dirty face buried between your legs, his sweaty bangs ghosting his forehead, his teeths gripping into your cunt, as his tongue circling around your clit, wetness smeared sloppily through his jawline making you even more wet, and getting him hyped by your little and pretty moans that fell into your lips. the slurpy noises of his mouth devouring you in sync with your desperate voice, tongue smacking your bud. you let your hands hold him in a tight hold in his hair, as you lost yourself against him.

your legs were caged above his broad shoulders, while your hips slapped his cheeks harshly. you were sensitive, gurgling and trembling under the weight of his warm tongue as it touched your sensitive spot to the deep, slurping every single drop of juice dripping in and out of your sweet needy cunt. he lapped every corner as a dog, wrapping and curling his breathy lips around your pulsating bud, groaned everytime he feels it tense around him. and jesus — he loved your damn taste.

his breath was warm, fanning over your spreaded slit which was soaked directly on his tongue. his hold was tightened, literally digging into your flesh, as his mouth filled you so well. she looked even bigger in you, getting her way further in your insides. he was so starved, sucking and sucking as your taste was making him feel even more high than drugs. you could literally see stars, and draw them. your vision was blurred as you reached heaven.

his tongue was heavy and slobbery against your dripping pussy, mixed between his own saliva and your own wetness, which made his entire jaw shiny with the mixture. and with that, the ecstacy effect began to build, making the pleasure even stronger and hotter.

the way your body arched as he eaten your pussy like he hadn’t touched anything, licked anything in months.

you had re-slipped a pill to give him even more of an appetite, feeding him like a starving man. you could feel his short cutted grunts against your pussy, as your hips rubbed his face.

your head was spinning, and your stomach was spiraling. it felt so good, but you were so lost. the drugs, the sex, rafe, everything was wonderfully good. why go to heaven when you have everything here?

rafe had never felt so good, he loved cocaine, he cherished this drug that he had broken and which he could no longer live without. but honestly, he liked drugs in general, anything that would make him high and unstable. he needed this to survive.

he sometimes dreamed of being clean, but it was impossible. all this shit was too much — too important for him. when you came in his mouth, releasing all your heavenly juices on his tongue, you blocked his breath by pulling him harder against your soaked and juicy cunt, forcing his throat to gasp, and swallowing everything that came to his cavity.

“ i want to try something with you.” you said in a lower tone, as you reach his pants, his hard and thick dick stretching the fabric.

he followed your gaze to his boner, not aware of what you were talking about, but the way your eyes were fully gawking at it, getting him even more excited, especially with the effect of drugs inside his mind.

“ i want to get high on your cock. doing a line on it…will you let me ? ”

“ you're sick.”

“ well duh, i hang out with you, don’t i?. ”

“ give me that coke, gonna get the line for ya. ” he offered as you handed him the drug.

he couldn't help but sniff the smell of the coke, as his nose was plunged into the white powder, making him even harder.

you can see the volume of his size growing against your eyes. “ can't you stop it, actually ? ”

“ don't be funny. ”

you took down his pants and his boxers. his cock was tense and big, fully erect right in front of your face. he placed the drug in a straight line on his flesh, while you salivated, watching the powder disperse over him.

“ stay still, rafe. ” you gently shouted.

“ do you really think i can control it ? hurry the fuck up. ”

“ don't stress me out. it's my first time doing this. ” you replied as you lowered your face above his stiffened cock, feeling the tense of his body through the hard rock. his curvy tip flopping some precum drop in the air, as your nose pointed toward the drugs.

it was the first time you experimented something like that, and you felt giddy about it. you blocked one of your nostrils before snorting the entire line at once,while rafe held your head during the whole process. his hand gripping tighter in your hair when the coke reached your nose. and you giggled the next second and doing it again just to feel the sensation another time. his dick twitched against your cheeks, tapping your skin with some lazily slaps.

you were about to step back, when he pulled you away by the neck, your hair falling over his grip, and face leaning toward him. “ already done ? don't run away. you gotta clean up your mess first ”

you lapped his cock to get him clean, rolling your tongue over his sensitive length, the fat shaft throbbing over your mouth, as your saliva soaked him. .

you were high — mouth licking innocent with stoned-looking filled with dizzy eyes. you needed more. but the moment you were about to talk, rafe came between your lips, spurting his warm loads inside you.

“ you wanted a thank you ? here it is. now we're done. ”

“ we all know that you will come back to me. ”

“ babe.” he cutted. “ you wish i came back for you’, but we all know why i came back. ”

“ pretend to not like it if you want, but don't forget to say my name when my taste will still drip from your mouth while you're kissing others. ”

“ glad that you're aware that you're not the only one. now, i'm leaving. don't call me. ”

“ don't need to call you when you will be at my door like a dog. ”

“ do i really have to put my dick in that mouth to shut you up ? or you gonna be a big girl and do it alone ? ”

“ oh oh. seems like you’re just looking for an excuse to do it, but your dick isn’t big enough to keep me quiet.”

“ not big enough ? ” he repeated with a smirk. “ keep talking, sweetheart before i'm gonna stretch that mouth open to death with that not-big-enough dick. ” he came closer, towering you with his height “ glad that you love yapping because after that, i can promise you that you will have something to talk for the entire year. now open that mouth. bigger. want to be a whore ? then make daddy fit in. ”

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!