#I think it's obvious I love working with sparkle effects | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

claymorexpunisher · 1 month

Text

I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/6)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. ALWAYS make sure to discuss everything prior to engaging in ANY kinks… Thank you for the love always and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.

Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)

Chapter Word Count: 1,739

Prev Chapter

Because fate is a cruel asshole, I got exactly what I didn’t want.

“Absolutely fucking not.” I repeated, this time louder, my hands clenched so hard around the handle of my suitcase that my hands shook.

I watched Rhea’s smirk widen even more; she was clearly taking pleasure in my obvious irritation.

“I’m not sharing a room with you.” I spat once I shut the door behind me and I walked further into the room.

“Not like you have a choice, sweetheart.” Rhea replied, cool as a cucumber in bed.

The sheets covered her lower half until she decided to peel them back and saunter over towards me just to give me a condescending pat on the head as she toward over me, laughing at the way I glowered at her.

As I broke are stare-off, my eyes mistakenly wandered over her muscled frame, over her black sports bra and I stopped short- no pun intended- at her v-shaped underwear that quite literally left zero to the imagination.

“Eyes up here, cutie.” Rhea purred.

Her pointer and middle finger slowly lifted my chin and her eyes sparkled even as I batted her hand away and frowned deeper.

“I know I’m a sight for sore eyes but-”

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?!” I yelled as I rolled my eyes and shouldered past her with my luggage and I heaved the dark blue suitcase onto the couch a few feet from the bed.

“You always say that. And yet…” My skin prickled as I heard her coming up behind me and her warm breath ghosted over my ear as she murmured, “…and you’ve not made a single attempt to make me.”

There.

She’d used two of the magic words you could throw at a Dom Top and I began to salivate before I pulled myself back.

Barely.

“But then again, I don’t see how tiny little thing like you could possibly even try.” She laughed.

This time I decided I wasn’t gonna let her get the best of me.

“I don’t think you really want me to sort you out, sweetheart.” I replied, letting her see my words for what they were.

“Ooh, but I think I do.” Rhea replied with a slightly raspy giggle, gasping softly as her eyes landed on my open suitcase.

I was taking out my pj’s, completely forgetting about the red strap-on dildo that I had wrapped in plastic and stuffed onto the side of my suitcase.

“What are you doing with that?!” She asked, shock laced her tone.

Shock that irritated me to no end, but again, I remained calm.

Right then and there, I decided that enough was enough.

If Rhea was gonna keep baiting me, then like any effective Dom Top, I’d bite.

I’d bite until she yielded just like any brat eventually did if you push the right buttons.

“What do you think I’m doing with it? Putting a sock over it and making puppet shows on my spare time?” I retorted.

I watched Rhea’s hand reach around me towards the toy and I let her snatch it.

I was gonna let her have her fun for now…

While I continued sorting out my toiletries and picking my pjs, I stole a glance behind me, watching her inspect the toy.

I was immediately plagued my filthy thoughts of shoving that toy down Rhea’s throat until tears pooled in her eyes, making it nice and wet for what I was going to do her, and it was all I could do to not clench my thighs.

Once again, I was caught staring at the Aussie woman and our eyes met.

That damn persistent and infuriating smirk was back on her lips as she put the toy back where it was, but I set aside along with its harness.

“Who’s gonna use that on you? Because I really don’t see a tiny little thing like you using it on anybo-” Rhea’s words cut off as I interrupted, but I didn’t bother verbally answering her question.

“You walk around like you’re hot shit. Like you’re Hunter’s golden child… and I almost can’t blame you entirely. The way he’s paraded you around and talked big game about you…” I chucked and turned around to face Rhea, noticing the small step she took backwards.

Yeah, I was definitely starting to figure this woman out…

I reached out and pulled her towards me by her the elastic of her underwear.

I smirked a little as I watched and felt Rhea’s stomach muscles flex as she inhaled sharply.

“But you’re nothing more than a delusional shot at redemption and absolution for him. Absolution from his sins against someone he can no longer apologize to. You are the living embodiment of his guilt and regret. That is all you are to him. And deep down I think you know that… But he’s put so much energy and time into you and you… for as much as you say you’re no longer a people-pleaser-” I looked up at Rhea sharply, sensing that she was going open her smart mouth and I wasn’t wrong.

I was pleased to watch her mouth snap shut as soon as steely gaze met hers.

“Yes, I’ve watched some of your interviews, I’m not dumb. I study everyone in this locker room nowadays. Especially you.- And you walk around like you’re this… this alpha female. But you’re nothing more than an insecure little brat who needs the validation and a lot of attention and you don’t know how else to get it, so you’re completely okay with cosplaying as someone for some applause and attention and praise from your boss or from the fans. And now that I think about it, maybe even from me.” I continued and I noticed a switch flip at that, as if I’d hit a nerve.

But still, she said nothing.

Hm. Boring.

“You walk around as if being hand-picked by someone like him is some type of flex. Sweetheart, if you were sick and tired of cosplaying as a big, bad and Dominant woman when what you really want and need is to be in your place, then all ya had to do was ask.” My voice was down to a mere whisper. I watched goosebumps raise on Rhea’s skin as my fingers continued to explore the skin on her abdomen with every word I hissed at her.

Her momentary obedience was short lived and her eyes became furious.

Red-hot anger burned in them, along with something else entirely underneath that she seemed to try to smother.

But I was nothing if not observant…

All of it fueled me.

I drank it all up, and my eyes glinted in amusement now as her hips bucked a little and she silently urged my hand lower as if her body had a mind of its own and as if her anger was propelling her actions.

But I didn’t give her what she wanted.

Not yet at least.

The hand that was on the waistband of her panties slowly snaked upwards again, and my thighs became slick with my arousal as Rhea let out an involuntary sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl.

“Fuck. You. You don’t know me-” Rhea snipped, eyes blazing with fury but I swiftly interrupted.

“Neither do you.” I replied sharply.

My traveling hand suddenly came upwards to grip her neck, not quite cutting off her breathing as much as cutting off the rant I knew was on its way.

The way she froze and suddenly went pliant fascinated me… and it just proved my points.

“You’re nothing but a carbon copy of someone else. I mean look at you, Rhea.” I said as my other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her dyed hair.

“You have no idea who you are. Who you really are. You’re all bark and no fucking bite. Playing the role of someone else even when the cameras are offand I’m sick of it.” I growled. “I promise you, I could have you squealing like the fuckin virgin you seem to think I am, in .5 seconds.” I chuckled as her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Some of that cocky defiance returned to Rhea’s eyes but I could tell it was half-hearted.

But it fueled me just as much.

“Show me, then. Show me who I am… put me in my place.” Rhea purred, her tone and gaze seductive as she gazed down at my lips and back up at my eyes.

She then took advantage of the fact that my hand slackened a bit in surprise.

She was quick, but I was quicker and I moved my head before Rhea could sink her teeth into my bottom lip and I my hand squeezed a tad bit harder and I watched her struggle not to go completely pliant.

She was definitely a stubborn one but I didn’t mind.

From her demeanor alone I could tell that she was goading me some more, not quite believing that I’d deliver on my promise yet curious to find out if I would.

“Okay… then how do you want me, ma’am?” Rhea shot back sarcastically as she walked towards the bed once I let go of her throat.

“Like this?” She asked as she crawled onto the bed, back arched and her ass up in the air, inviting me to spank it so I did just that.

I chuckled as her body jolted and she gave a yelp as both my hands cracked down on each of her ass cheeks as soon as she settled down behind her on my knees.

“That works, actually. Hands behind your back.” I commanded.

Of course she didn’t immediately comply, so I did it myself, holding at least one of her wrists over her back.

“Fuck! I hate you-” She began to rant as I pulled her panties down and I brought my hand down on her ass again and again, until her ass cheeks turned the gorgeous red I had envisioned.

Her body trembled even as she fought and I could see her pussy glistening with arousal.

I stole a look into her eyes and noticed them becoming glassier by the second and that made satisfaction and arousal course through my veins, hitting the spot just as much as a delicious pot of my morning fucking coffee...

Next Chapter

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley fan fiction #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x fem reader #rhea ripley x reader #wwe fan fiction #wwe smut #wwe fic

185 notes · View notes

schmidtkisser · 4 months

Note

hi there!! i just want to say that i absolutely loved your first fic, it was beautiful! regarding prompt suggestions, could you perhaps do something like the reader helping mike get a restful night's sleep following the events of the movie? no pressure ofc!!

Nightly Lullaby

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: mike has trouble sleeping due to the anxiety of dreaming the same memory he has trained his brain for over the past few years. after tucking abby into bed, you help mike finally sleep comfortably for once.

content: established relationship between you and mike, 2nd person pov, comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, love language: physical touch, insomniac mike, fnaf movie spoilers (story takes place after the events of the movie), you babysit abby, you sing them to sleep

a/n: thank u anon for the rq! this was so fun to write and was such a cute prompt to work with <3 hope i did it justice

★彡★彡★彡

It had been about a week or two since Mike resigned from being a security guard at a run-down, haunted pizzeria.

You heard all about it from Mike himself. The history of the place, the owner, animatronics possessed by the ghosts of dead children, his past with Garrett — everything. It was hard to believe at first, but the sincerity in his tone, as well as the fact that Mike wasn’t the kind of person to lie to you, led you to believe everything he claimed was true.

You could barely imagine everything he had to go through. Losing his little brother, his parents, having a difficult time finding a job, all while in the process of almost losing custody of his sister. Though he seemed to be struggling less now that it was all over, you couldn’t help but notice his struggle with sleep ever since then.

Mike always relied on a nightly routine to help him sleep up until a week ago. He told you about the dream theory, and how he’d stare at a Nebraska poster while listening to nature noises on a walkman.

The part that concerned you the most was his reliance on sleeping pills. You couldn’t even begin to describe the relief you felt when he admitted that he was ready to stop using them every night. But now, as a result of the sudden routine change and the lack of pills, he had a hard time falling asleep.

—

He leans against his sister’s doorframe, his arms folded as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. You always tuck Abby into bed after a long day, pulling the comforter over her shoulders before you give her a small forehead kiss. A little conversation exchange would occur, before she would ask a small request from you.

“Can you hum me a song again?” Abby asks, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation. The simple routine following up to the nightly lullaby works like a charm. She’ll be asleep in no time. “They help me sleep. And you always do it better than Mike.”

You can’t help but scoff a small laugh at the stab at Mike, glancing over at him to see his reaction. He playfully rolls his eyes at you two, before continuing to observe you both.

You look back at Abby, who is hiding her obvious smile beneath the duvet covers. Your eyes soften at her, your hand reaching down to pet her head, before you begin to hum a simple, yet effective lullaby as she requested. She listens intently, her eyes beginning to flutter shut within the first minute or so of your hum.

Though, she wasn’t the only one listening to the sweet song. Mike’s ears tune into your delicate crooning, yawning quietly as he leans himself forward. He adores the soft rumble from your throat, how it strung itself together into a beautifully crafted lullaby. He thinks you sound angelic despite not singing a single word. He can feel his heart pick up a beat as he listens. He feels his eyes grow heavier, his head beginning to nod off as he feels himself begin to drift.

But the lullaby ends almost as quickly as it began. You pull away from Abby, her soft snores slipping out in purrs; she’s out like a light. Your lips curl into a little smile when you observe her, slowly lifting yourself off of her bed as your attention shifts to Mike, who is in the most exhausted state you’ve ever seen him in. The poor man looks like he’s about to fall over any second.

You make your way over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The sudden contact wakes him up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as he looks at you. His cheeks flush with warmth from how close you are, not to mention the comforting feeling of your arm wrapped around him. It made him want to melt, thinking you feel much warmer compared to any blanket he’s ever used.

“Come on, Mike,” you whisper, guiding him forward. You quietly close Abby’s door as the two of you leave the room. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods, trying his best not to drag his feet across the floor as you walk him to his bedroom. He feels heavy as he leans against you, his exhaustion making itself present with every passing second.

Making your way inside the room, you close the door behind you with the heel of your foot. You walk him to his bed while you keep him close to you. The cold air nips at your skin, and you can feel Mike shiver against you too. You reach over to click his lamp on, the warm light illuminating the room. He murmurs your name softly as you both take a seat on his mattress with a creak.

“There, there,” you rub a hand up his back. Your eyes gaze down at him, noticing even the slightest few details about him. His furrowed brows, the little frown pursed on his lips, and most notably; the dark eye bags dusted beneath his eyes. The sight saddens you. He really hasn’t slept a wink in the past week.

He casts his eyes up at you, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he pulls you closer. To him, it feels like having a teddy bear in his arms — something he hadn’t really felt since the loss of his childhood. The thought gets him emotional, and he attempts to hide the sudden flood of emotions welling in his face by nuzzling himself against your neck. His fingers slowly clutch onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t want to dream anymore,” he utters. “Things are fine now but, what if I dream about that again, you know? I mean, I trained my brain to think of the same memory every night.” There was a slight crack in his voice, his clutch growing tighter. “Y/N, I know it sounds stupid, but I just…”

“…It’s not stupid. None of it is.” You hush him gently. Your hand trails over to his shoulder, the other reeling him in for a warm hug. You can feel his tense body begin to calm as he takes control of his breathing. The comfort of your embrace never fails to ease him. “I can’t imagine being in your position, but sudden change is difficult. I just want you to know that I’m always here for you, Mike.”

Your tone stumbled slightly as you spoke. It came out cornier than you wanted it to, and you felt your face heat up a little in embarrassment. His silence following your words scares you into a small pit of self-doubt. Did you say the wrong thing? Was it even helpful? You nervously nibble at your lower lip, waiting for any kind of response.

Then, you feel a small, amused huff against the skin of your neck, followed by a little nod from him. The fingers clutching your shirt loosened slightly, but he still kept a grasp on you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You let out a sigh of relief, cradling Mike in your arms. Your lips curl up into a smile, pulling away from the hug just slightly to look at him again. His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, and you can even see a hint of a smile on his face.

You cup his cheek with the palm of your hand, exchanging a sudden, yet loving kiss between you two. The kiss catches him off guard, but he eases into it quickly. You savour the tender feeling of his lips, the warmth of his cheek against your palm, how he kissed back with the same amount of love in his gesture.

Oh, how he makes you melt.

You pull away at the same time, taking a breath as you look longingly into each others’ eyes. Your thumb brushes gently against the corner of his lip, your palm feeling every inch of his stubble. He leans into your touch, and you can’t help but think that he resembles a puppy with the way he looks at you. He closes his eyes, nuzzling against your palm with a yawn. Your eyes soften, beginning to realise how tired you’ve gotten also.

“Bed time?” You whisper. He nods silently in response.

You draw back from the intimate cuddles to tuck him into bed. He feels your absence, and you feel it too, despite the fact that you were just a foot away from him.

He brings himself down onto his bed, resting his head against the feather-filled pillow. You carefully pull the comforter over his body, providing him with warmth against the cold air circulating in the room. He was just about ready to pass out, but his fingers clasp at the rim of your shirt.

“Can you sleep here, with me?” He croaks, turning his eyes away from you. “Please.”

Initially, you were planning to drive home after he went to bed, but you couldn’t help but soften at his request. You were growing too tired to drive safely anyway. You click his lamp off, the room getting swallowed in darkness, with the moonlight peaking through the slits of the blinds. “I can.”

You crawl into the empty spot on the bed next to him, sinking yourself beneath the covers. His bed was far more comfortable than you could imagine, and the faint scent of him has you sinking in deeper.

He rolls over to lie on his side, facing you as his arms snake around your waist again. You do the same, enveloping him in your embrace. He rests his face against your chest with a lazy hum. As he listens intently to the beat of your heart, he thinks of a small, though embarrassing request.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

He pulls you in closer, your bodies intertwining. “Can you hum me a song?” He murmurs. “Like you do with Abby.”

The question catches you off guard. You should’ve expected it, yet it still surprised you — but not in a bad way. Deep down, you knew he felt a bit embarrassed for asking you to sing him to sleep. He is a grown man, after all, not a child like Abby.

Yet, you carry no judgement, cradling him in your arms as you accept his request. It was better than listening to a nature tape on loop, or the dead silence of the house, after all.

You begin to hum for him, your lips pressed together as you craft a tune for him to nod off to. He pays close attention to every note, to the rise and fall of your chest when you croon, to how your voice would bounce off the walls back to you two. With every passing second, he can feel his eyes grow heavier. In the comfort of your arms and the sweet sound of your song, he finally lulls off to a deep, peaceful sleep.

You can feel his body relax against yours, and his soft breaths hit against the skin of your chest as he falls into a slumber. You slowly wrap up the song, keeping him in your hold as you nuzzle the top of his head. You smile to yourself, your heart full of tenderness and warmth, whispering for one last time tonight.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt fanfic #fnaf movie fanfic #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x gn!reader #mike schmidt fluff #domestic fluff #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #physical touch #x reader

237 notes · View notes

hugs2doie · 1 year

Text

liking nct dream at the wrong time

anon’s request: Hi!💗 Could you make a fic where reader like's 7dream but they didn't like her at the time and reader wouldn't stop until one day reader finally gave up and 7dream ended up liking her back? Ty!💗💗🩷💕💖 finally gave up and 7dream ended u up liking her back?

pairing: nct dream x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: none (i think)

author’s note: idk if i have ever said this but i LOVE writing angst, and finally, i got this request done woo !!

— mark

at first, when you confessed, he would feel so bad. he loved you as a friend and nothing more, he never thought of you anything more than friends. your confession would make things awkward, especially for mark. every time he’d see you he’d think of your confession and, well, can’t help but feel bad. he thought that time would make you get over him, however it was not true. every time you would accidentally bump into e/o, your eyes would lit up and he never failed to notice that. because of work and everything, y’all started texting less, meeting less, but still managed to keep up with each other. as time would go on, mark would realize how you were the only person who was there for him: who took care of him when he needed, who was there to cheer him up, tell him kind words and assure him for everything, he had fallen for you. but, he realized that too late. you had already moved on. your eyes wouldn’t lit up the same way as they used to before, you didn’t try to cling at him like you used to. when he would see you, his heart would ache, you didn’t have the sparkles you always had in your eyes. he was just a friend to you, and nothing more.

— renjun

you didn’t even need to confess to him, your feelings were so obvious to him and everyone else. when he first noticed that, he stopped all the teasing, flirty words, hugging you, whatsoever, and thought for a while about you guys’ friendship. of course, he did not want to lose you, you were his best friend. he did not want to lose you but at the same time he did not want to give you false hope. that did not go unnoticed by you. you knew renjun and it was obvious when there was something wrong. every time you’d ask him that, he would spit out some random lies with the most serious face ever, which you had to believe cause, why would your best friend lie to you? right? renjun would notice how hard you tried to make him fall for you, he just.. never did. but, many of your actions made his love grow for you, he didn’t kbow if the love he had for you was the same love he used to have for you, as his best friend, or more. once, you cooked his favorite dish, that his mom always used to cook. you weren’t a good cook, especially with chinese food but, he was your best friend, and he was struggling a lot that time, he missed his family so much. he still smiles thinking about that moment. every now and then, he found himself smiling when texting with you. he had fallen for you. but it was too late, you already started seeing someone.

— jeno

he always thought you saw him like a best friend, just like he saw you, but he was being mistaken. one day, you guys were having a sleepover and while you went to get a glass of water, you accidentally left your phone open, to the DMs with your friend. jeno was going to grab the remote so when he turned around to find it in the couch, he saw the phone, and his eyes went to that one message you sent your friend: “i think i’m in love with jeno”. he froze. he really couldn’t believe what he just read. he went to the bathroom before you came back and started thinking to himself. he really wished he liked you back. as your best friend, all he wanted, was to make you happy, nothing else. but. it was harder than it looked like. he would notice all the efforts you made, how you wanted to impress him etc. they had no effect on him, he still felt the same for you. this went on for months. it hurt jeno seeing you trying so hard for him, knowing his feelings wouldn’t change anytime soon, but, one day, surprisingly, your efforts stopped. you wouldn’t blush when he would be close or in front of you anymore. you wouldn’t be uncomfortable when he would talk about random people to you. and he found it strange. he missed your playful flirting. but that was the problem. why would he miss it? it’s not like he liked you or something, right? it’s not like he had fallen for you, right? his heart didn’t drop when you introduced your boyfriend to him… right?

— haechan

he realized it in a truth or dare game. you were playing truth or dare with 7dream and it was chenle’s turn, so he asked haechan: “be honest, have you ever thought of dating y/n?”. the question made you blush lightly and look at haechan, but, his reaction wasn’t what you expected. haechan was pretending to throw up and say stuff like “me? y/n??? i would rather jump off a cliff” and “i literally see them as my sibling.” what you didn’t notice was that, the frown you had in your face and your teary eyes, got caught by haechan, no matter how much you fake laughed and agreed. from that day, without realizing it, he started distancing himself from you. he really wanted to give up on the friendship, he just wanted you to move on from him, he hated seeing you sad because of your past crushes, and he didn’t wanna be one of them. he had to give up on the friendship. but it was you who wouldn’t. as they say, love makes you blind, so you wouldn’t notice haechan attempts of distancing. you would still show him the same amount of love and even more. one day, haechan realized he liked it, more than he should. if before he didn’t mind you being clingy, now he wanted you to be clingy. every message of yours would make his heart flutter, that made him realize he finally liked you, so he decided to confess, hoping that you still liked him back. but that was until you started talking about this new person, who had you smiling, giggling, biting your nails and everything. you were over haechan, and now, he was the one who was too blind to realize it.

— jaemin

“i’m sorry y/n, i genuinely see you as a friend, nothing more.” you wish you never confessed. aside from tears forming in your eyes, you managed to tell him that it’s alright and that you wanted to continue staying friends with him. being the sweetheart he is, he of course couldn’t say no. later on, he started regretting it. you were doing so much for him, more than you should, doing all out of love, but it was only you who couldn’t notice it. giving him your all made his heart ache. he would want to tell you to stop but he knew it would be no use at all. staying friends with jaemin made it hard for both of you, but you still couldn’t let go of him. this went on about months until one day it just stopped. it was weird, to him and everyone else. you stopped texting him so often, and stop texting first. you stopped asking for hangouts and sleepovers. you just stop trying. jaemin wasn’t used to this. he wasn’t used to getting no good morning/good night texts from you, or you telling him about your day, or you talking about the people you cherish the most to him. he wasn’t used to you stopping those. he enjoyed them. he enjoyed every single thing you told him. he enjoyed watching you speak, how your eyes lit up talking about your favorite movie, your laughs and giggles when telling a funny story, or the yawns you let out while talking to him when you were busy. he realized that he enjoyed everything related to you too late, it was now your turn to reject him.

— chenle

chenle really didn’t expect you to like him. he just thought y’all were the best of buddies that you could be silly and serious at the same time. that did indeed make him think better about himself ‘cause, who wouldn’t be happy when someone would like them? but that died down quickly cause, it came from somebody he had no feelings for. you played it off and said the confession was simply for a truth or dare game, but he could see it in your eyes that you were lying, even though he pretended to believe you. chenle would probably try to maintain the friendship and forget about the confession, but he just couldn’t, no matter how much he tried. chenle would act the same towards you, even after the confession, showing that all he sees you as, is a friend and nothing more. this of course would hurt you but, trying wouldn’t be harm for anyone, right? when in reality, you were just harming yourself; you made everything that could make chenle happy, he just never saw you any different. what you didn’t know was that, for the past few weeks chenle would be smiling at himself at night, thinking about the bracelet you got him, and all your other gifts, he would be smiling and giggling without even realizing it, while the next day he would greet you the exact same. this, unfortunately, made you stop trying, until you fell out of love. this however, made chenle realize that he was in love with you. maybe it was the day where you held hands with your new partner or the kiss you gave them that made him realize that, either way, his heart would be aching in nothing but pain.

— jisung

he would think that the roses, chocolates and the written confession on a piece of paper you sent him that monday morning, were simply all a prank. he just couldn’t take it seriously. you? liked him? it didn’t feel real to jisung at all. however, aside from him being happy that someone likes him, he was sad cause he didn’t feel the same, and he did not want to let you know that, especially after all of these. no matter how much jisung tried, he just couldn’t love you back. no matter how much he told himself before he went to sleep and gaslighted himself that he loved you back and would date you, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. as months passed, he seemed to appreciate your efforts more than he used to. he would hide all of your gifts in a special box and look at them everyday, kicking his feet like an anime girl. his cheeks would rise with heat reading watching the cute handmade gifts. the sight was the most adorable thing ever, too bad you couldn’t see it. after liking jisung a lot, you realized you should move on, so you did. you started seeing someone, who treated you the same and gave the same efforts back. you felt happy, that made you lose feelings for jisung after literal months. jisung bit his lip hard when he got introduced to your partner, knowing that he should’ve realized it sooner that he loves you, and that you’re never going to love him the same way you used to.

683 notes · View notes

lunargrapejuice · 8 months

Text

it wasn’t often you got to rest like this during the work day, let alone while at jujutsu high. the never ending work of a sorcerer was something you knew well so when the few workless, curseless, minutes came and turned to a rare moment where you could just be, you didn’t hesitate to take the chance.

from where you sat on a quiet bench, your umbrella forgotten on the empty space next to you, the sun spilled rays of yellows and blues between the tree leaves above you despite the rain that drizzled from the clouds that spotted across the sky. little more than a drizzle, soft but plentiful, enough to wet the world around you and bring out the smell of the earth and clean skies.

you breathed it in, felt the cool breeze through your hair, relished in the small droplets of water on your face that made it through the trees while your coat kept the rest of you dry. it might have been perfect had it not been for the very obvious yearning in your chest, humming your want for satoru to be here with you. it felt a bit childish, you had seen him just this morning- five hours ago max but you would have done anything to have him here with you right now.

your face tilted towards the sky and behind fluttering lashes, you wondered what he was doing right now with his students or if he was running late to a meeting, if he was thinking of you too or had eaten more than just sweets today. probably not, you chuckle at the thought and the memory of his lips covered in donut powder from this morning's breakfast.

“what’s gotcha smiling like that sugar, hm?”

your eyes shoot open to see the very man your heart had been desperate for, your cheeks flushing with undeniable heat, your heart skipping far too many beats - an effect he had always had on you. one he adored and used to his advantage as often as he pleased. he's so close your entire world is taken over by the broadness of his shoulders, the blackness of his blind fold and the snow white of his hair and as he leans in closer, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, smell the sugary sweetness that his grinning lips normally tasted of.

“hehe. you were thinkin’ about me, weren’t ya?”

“‘toru! you scared me!” you pout, unable to look away and hide your burning cheeks that answered his question for you.

“there’s no need to be scared baby, it’s just me,” he smiles wider, that adorable chuckle of his filling your chest with overflowing love and joy.

you can’t help but smile and giggle in return, leaning into him when he touches your face, strong fingers gentle and warm against your warm cheek as he brushes a half wet piece of hair behind your ear. he hovers above you like that, feeling his own heart beat faster and faster with every passing moment just taking you in, seeing the love you hold for him sparkle in your eyes, so very happy to have caught you in this moment.

“what’re you doing out here angel?”

“just taking a little break,” you reply, reaching for his jacket that hadn’t been touched by the rain, your fingers anxious to keep him here with you. you don’t know why he’s here right now or how he found you right when your heart ached for him but you didn’t want to give it up so easily either. “stay with me for a minute?”

satoru was never ever one to deny you, especially not when you looked so helplessly adorable when you needed him. he would stay here all day with you if you’d let him but until you said that it was time for you both to get back to work, he’d be right here with you.

“so desperate for me,” he chuckles, the feeling of it vibrating against your hands on his chest and the warmth of it caught against your skin before your lips meet in a tender kiss that has his hand getting lost in your hair and your own pulling him closer to you.

“and so what if i am?” you ask, breathless and honied when you pull away for air. effortlessly you follow his movements that have you standing on your toes to reach him, feeling the back of your legs on the bench he had pulled you from with his lips alone. you couldn’t help but notice the droplets of water that cascaded on your skin and wetted his hair as you pulled down his blind fold to reveal the crystalline blue eyes that belonged to your soulmate. “just don’t let it go to your head too much.”

“too late,” he says and you don’t miss the tinkle in his eyes before he’s kissing you again and again, smiling into every one.

main masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader

178 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 10 months

Text

Power Play Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Free Week - “S”

AN: It’s the chapter you’ve all been waiting for! Hopefully you love everything that happens here. Thank you for joining me on this wild ride. It's still the 2nd of August in Honolulu, so I'm all good.....

This week is a free week, with the optional prompt of something starting with “S” - so I’ve gone simple and just gone with Sex, but another word beginning with S also applies and hopefully you will all work it out at the end. Thanks @buckybarnesevents

Also, like in the cinema, don't leave straight away....

Beta’d by @buckysbarne

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and banner by me

Master list | Hot Bucky Summer Master list | Chapter 4

Summary: You return to Bucky’s mansion after quitting your job and confronting Walker. Are you ready for the rest of your life to properly begin?

Relationship: Mob! Bucky x Undercover Agent! Reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: Soft!Dark! Bucky, Canon Typical Violence, Russian Pet names as mangled by Google translate, Explicit sexual content (body worship, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PinV sex), Minor character death

The car came to a halt, pulling you from your memories.

Had it only been a few days ago that you’d woken, tied to a chair in Bucky’s office, scared for your life but trying not to show it?

A few days in which he’d convinced you that not only did he wish you no harm, he actually admired you and thought that you could change your life for the better by joining in.

Were you ready to throw your morals away for the promise of a better life and, by all indications so far, mind-blowing sex? Surely people did that everyday in the name of capitalism?

“I can hear you thinking, Pchelka.” At the sound of Bucky’s amused voice, you lifted your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder during the car ride, and looked up at him.

Despite the fact that you’d been living in his mansion for a week and spending a significant portion of each of your days with him, his beauty still took your breath away, more so when he unleashed a smile.

The feared mob boss reached out to cup your jaw, rubbing a rough thumb across your cheek..

“Don’t second guess yourself, milyy. You did wonderfully. You did what you had to do, and now you are free. Free to do what you want, what pleases you.”

His eyes sparkled and you felt emboldened. The car may have stopped but the doors hadn’t yet opened, despite the fact that Bucky’s driver had already alighted. Taking advantage of the apparent privacy, you twisted in your seat, and moved to straddle Bucky’s lap. His lips twitched, suppressing a smile, although he did raise one of his eyebrows. You grasped the lapels of his suit for balance and then ground down over his already partially chubbed up cock.

“What if I want to ‘do’ you? I have a feeling you’ll more than please me.”

It was obvious from the flex in his jaw that he was finding it harder to keep a straight face.

“Let it never be said that I don’t give a lady exactly what she wants and needs.”

In a move that surprised you, he flung open the door, swivelled in his seat and stood out of the car, with you clinging to him. His hands were under your ass, hoisting you up and your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. That it had the unfortunate effect of sending your skirt shooting up around your own waist had you squeaking in embarrassment, but your soon to be lover just chuckled.

“There’s no-one around, Pchelka.”

You peeked, firstly over his shoulder and then turned your head to look around further. He was right, of course. For once you couldn’t see hide-nor-hair of any of his guards or close associates, not even Sam.

“Show me your bedroom, Bucky.”

You kissed him then, harshly and with a fierce need, as though the damn holding your back had finally burst. Unfortunately it made it rather hard for him to carry out your request, so he only indulged you for a few moments, drawing away before you were ready to let him go, and he chuckled again at the needy noise you let out.

“Patience, lyubimaya. If you wish to be made love too in comfortable surroundings you need to let me take you upstairs. There’ll be time in the future for more… unusual trysts.”

His mocking words, no matter how affectionately meant, had heat racing to your cheeks and you buried your head into his shoulder. Your mind was assaulted by thoughts of Buckty taking you in the back of his expensive car, of him bending you over the desk in his office, of him between your thighs in his home cinema as some erotic French art house film played on the screen. You let out another whine, your hips bucking against his torso as your body sought friction for your aching clit.

Thankfully, Bucky managed to get inside the house and upstairs in record time, shouldering the door to his room open, kicking it closed and then laying you on the bed, following your down so his body pressed into the V of your hips, and finally kissing you back as ardently as you’d kissed him minutes before.

The beard scruff covering his cheeks and chin, scratched across your skin, but you didn’t care. His hands skimmed down to your waist, kneading your soft flesh over your clothes, before tunnelling under your blouse, freeing it from your skirt and starting to work on the delicate buttons that held the soft silk closed. You gasped at his touch, and at the way his kisses moved from your lips to pepper your jaw and then your throat.

The buttons dealt with, Bucky eased the front of your top apart, baring your lace covered breasts to his gaze.

“Prekrasnyy!”

You may not have understood what it was he said, but the tone in which he said it, and the way in which he ducked his head to press his lips to the swell of your breasts, explained enough. When his mouth moved lower, sucking on your flesh through the lace, your body arched up, your hands flying to his short hair and clutching his head. You didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer, the stimulation sending your senses into a tailspin.

As Bucky worshipped your breasts, his left hand, the one so artfully decorated with ink, slid up the outside of your right thigh, skimming over the stockings you wore, until they reached the clasp of your garter belt. He deftly dealt with the two clips, and then his hand was pushing up under the belt to grasp your ass again, squeezing gently as you sighed and moaned beneath him.

His mouth continued its journey southwards, until it was halted by the bunched up fabric of your skirt. His deep chuckle, by now one of your favourite sounds, broke from him again as he eased away from you. However, he took hold of your hands, drawing you up into a sitting position as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

The image of the most powerful man in New York acting and looking subservient to you sent a fresh rush of arousal to your pussy, and you were certain that your new, La Perla panties were hopelessly ruined.

With his ice blue eyes never looking away from your face, he slipped your blouse from your shoulders, whisking it away and, without a care, tossing it away from the bed. His hands slid around your ribcage, to the fastening of your bra. He tilted his head, a silent question, to which you replied with a small nod, your lower lip held gently between your teeth in anticipation. The lace dropped away quickly, and you heard Bucky’s intake of breath and saw his eyes darken.

“Tak ochen', ochen' krasivo.”

You expected him to take your breasts into his mouth again, but he surprised you with his actions, instead peppering your sensitive skin with gentle kisses. His stubble tickled you and your skin puckered, your nipples standing to attention.

Bucky’s hands then moved to your waist.

“Up, Pchelka.”

You stood, and your one loosened stocking slithered slowly down your leg. But your lover ignored it, instead pulling your skirt back down over your ass and thighs, but only so he could reach the zipper and undo it. It too pooled at your ankles, but Bucky steadied you as you stepped out of it. He then undid your one remaining stocking and removed your garter belt.

“Sit again, milyy.”

As you sank back down onto the counterpane, painfully aroused and almost vibrating with anticipation, Bucky lifted your right foot onto his knee, undoing the ankle strap of your shoe and removing it just as gently as every other item of your clothing, his fingers returning quickly to divest you of your stocking, before doing the same to the other foot.

With you now only wearing your panties, Bucky rose to his feet and stepped back. He loosened the tie at his neck, undoing it and tossing it away, his eyes still fixed on yours, and you swallowed thickly. His jacket quickly followed, shucked and discarded at lightning speed, but when he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, you let out another whine, pressing your thighs together.

He gave you a knowing smirk and you mentally cursed him, however, when he finally released all the buttons of his shirt and let the fine cotton slip to the floor, it was your turn to gasp. You obviously knew about the tattoo on his left arm, but he now revealed to you that it covered his left shoulder and the top of his chest on that side. You itched to trail your finger over the twisting vines and ask him what the various words meant, but now wasn’t the time. Especially as now Bucky had, oh-so-slowly, popped the fly of his pants and was drawing the fabric down over his thick thighs, and…

Oh my…

Black boxer briefs clung to him like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination, and you knew you were staring.

“My face is up here, sladkiy…” That condescending note appeared in his voice again and you automatically dropped your chin and turned your head, for some reason feeling ashamed, yet also excited.

Bucky didn’t let you hide for long. He was back on his knees, between your legs, tilting your chin up with his index finger.

“Don’t hide from me, Pchelka. And never apologise for looking at what’s yours. Because I am. And you are mine. Now, lie back and I will prove how much I worship you.”

You eased back onto your elbows, and Bucky curled his fingers around the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips and finally you were fully exposed. For a moment Bucky said nothing, just placed his hands on your thighs and gazed at your sex. His hands shifted, his thumbs reaching up to spread your folds open, and he groaned. Then, without any further warning he bent his head those last few inches and licked a stripe right up your weeping pussy, flicking over your erect clit.

Your elbows gave out, your head meeting the mattress with a dull thud. Bucky’s fingers tightened on the malleable flesh of your thighs as he explored your folds. All you could do was moan and mutter ‘yesyesyesyesyes’, over and over again. When he pressed one of his fingers into you, you almost came on the spot, your body clutching at the intruding digit, squeezing around it, greedy for more. Then, as if he could read your mind, after a few exploratory thrusts, he added a second finger.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you palmed at your breasts. With his free hand, Bucky lifted one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder holding you open and pulling you impossibly closer. You thought you’d known pleasure when he’d touched you before, but this was different, both exquisite and tortuous. It was as though he knew when you were approaching your peak and purposely changing tack to keep you hovering right on the edge.

Then it hit you. He was ensuring that you were just how he wanted you - spread open and needy.

You let out a whimper, knowing you were playing directly into his hands, and not caring in the slightest. You wanted him. No, needed him. As if he were the very air you needed to breathe.

“Bucky!” Your stomach tightened and your legs trembled as you wailed out your plea. You no longer cared how pathetic and wrecked you sounded.

You felt him shift between your thighs, his face leaving your soaking pussy and you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were dark with lust, his cheeks pink and his mouth wet with your arousal. You reached out your arms, making pathetic grabby motions with your hands and with a smile Bucky climbed up onto the bed.

Aware of how your legs dangled over the edge of the mattress, you shuffled up the counterpane as Bucky’s form slinked forward, covering your own. You lifted your right leg to hook over his still clothed hip, your body arching up against his erection.

“It’s okay, Pchelka. I’m here. Soon, soon.”

He kissed you, transferring your essence from his lips to yours. His left hand cupped your face, his weight on his forearm, while with his right he pushed down his briefs. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and when you felt his cock settle between your folds, hard and hot, your nails dug into his skin as you gasped. Then his hand was between you, notching himself at your entrance, and you lifted your hips to help him.

Bucky sank home, engulfed by the clutch of your body and the sound of your twin moans filled the room. He thrust into you gently, still kissing you and your arms left their death grip on his shoulders to twine around his neck. You moved together, an erotic version of the dance you’d had when you’d first met, and Bucky was right - you just fit so well.

The fire inside you, which Bucky had so carefully stoked with his earlier endeavours, became an inferno. You didn’t want this to end, but at the same time you ached with the need for that ultimate satisfaction, and wanted to feel him find his in your body.

“Bucky, please.” You whispered against his mouth, and without missing a beat, he moved his left hand from your face to where you were joined and using his unerring instinct to touch you just right, drew soft circles on your clit, spreading your arousal over the bundle of nerves.

You came.

Hard.

Your voice let out a strangled cry, your eyes squeezing so tightly shut that tears rolled down your face. Your hips continued to meet Bucky’s, thrust for thrust, and he let out a few small grunts, letting you know he was close too. As your body shuddered with the aftershocks, you cupped his face with your hands.

“Come for me, Bucky. Please. I need to feel you.”

“Moya malen’kaya pchelka. Moya koroleva. Nastol’ko sovershenen. Perfect.”

You felt his hips stutter and loose rhythm, and felt the warmth of him flood you as he let out a deep groan. His body collapsed on yours and you ran your hands up and down his sweat-coated back, basking in your shared closeness. After a few moments he rolled to the side, his arms keeping you flush to him. You tipped your head up to look at him, and he smiled back down at you.

“Sleep, lyubimyy. It’s been an eventful day. We can talk more in the morning.”

You nodded against his chest, sighing in satisfaction and accepting your body’s request for slumber. You whined as he eased away from you, the mattress shifting as he got up, but he returned quickly, a warm, wet washcloth making its way between your legs.

Bucky got back in, sitting up against the headboard, and tucking you against his side, your legs tangled. As you drifted off, you heard the soft chirp of his phone.

“Is it done?... Good work, Sam. The message should be clear enough.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi

Post Credits Scene

Sam chuckled into the phone.

“Clear as crystal, boss.”

The call ended and he pocketed his phone, before looking back down at the ground.

Walker’s blue, lifeless eyes started up at him, the bullet hole in his head a gorey facsimile of a third one. The former agent, and grade A douchebag was sprawled in the alley outside of his favourite bar.

Sam knew he should get going - this watering hole didn’t lack for patrons and it wouldn’t be long before the body was discovered - however, he needed to find the bullet, and remove all traces of himself.

It hadn’t been hard to carry out Bucky’s orders. Walker was - had been - nothing but predictable, heading straight there after his confrontation with the boss and his little bee. Sam smiled to himself. It had only been a week and he already had a soft spot for Bucky’s Queen. She’d do the boss good - he’d already noticed a change in Bucky’s demeanour, and so far it was all for the better. He’d have taken out Walker for her, even if Bucky hadn’t asked.

Sam had bided his time though, waiting for night to fall before taking any action. Walker liked to come outside into the alley behind the bar for a smoke. Sometimes Hoskins came with him, sometimes he came alone. He wouldn’t have minded shooting Hoskins too, but someone had to relay the message.

His opportunity came at around quarter to eleven. The rear door of the bar opened with a crash and Walker stumbled through it, so drunk he could barely stand. He slumped against the wall, and pulled a battered box of cigarettes from his pocket. He placed a smoke between his lips and started to spin the steel wheel of his lighter. It sparked, but didn’t light and Walker cursed to himself.

Taking that as his cue, Sam had stepped out from where he’d been hiding himself. His target had looked up, but had been too drunk to be wary.

“Hey man, you got a li…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Sam had raised his arm and shot him straight in the forehead, decorating the wall behind him with his brains. Sam had considered taunting him, but what would’ve been the point? The man would die anyway, and in reality he wasn’t worth any extra time or energy. The corpse had slithered down the wall before tilting sideways, barely coming to rest before Sam had pulled out his phone to notify Bucky.

With that done, Sam pulled out his flick knife, stepped over the corpse, and dug the bullet out of the brickwork. Pocketing both, he was about to make his way out of the alley to walk the half a block to where he’d left his car when he suddenly halted.

Being in the business he was, he’d developed keen senses and knew when he was being watched. He waited a breath, and then another. The sound of a glass bottle falling over and a stifled gasp had him pinpointing where the watcher was hiding - down the side of the large garbage bin, behind a pile of overflowing bags.

Four large strides and he was there, pulling the refuse sacks away.

“What have we got here?”

A pair of large, sunken eyes in a gaunt face, surrounded by dirt matted hair looked up at him in fear.

“I won’t say anything, mister. I promise. Please don’t kill me.”

Sam was torn. He killed who needed to be killed, avoiding collateral damage at all costs, but he couldn’t afford to leave a witness either. And this girl - no, young woman - obviously hadn’t had an easy life so far. He reached out toward her and she shrank back, squeezing her eyes shut as she undoubtedly prepared herself for her last moments. Then, unexpectedly, she sagged, her face going slack, and Sam realised she’d fainted.

Fuck!

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill her. But he couldn’t just leave her here either. He knew what type of predators were out at this time. Hell, he was technically one of them.

He dragged his palm down his face and pulled his phone back out, dialling a different number than earlier.

“Steve? It’s me. I’ve got a situation and I need you to bring the car around to the back of the alley. And try and be stealthy this time, man….Yeah, fuck you too.”

With a sigh, he cut the call, shoved his phone back in his pocket and bent down to scoop his new charge - cos he sure as hell knew that he’d just made her his responsibility - into his arms. She weighed far too little, and that realisation caused some kind of ache inside him. He didn’t want to investigate that feeling too much.

As he walked down the alley, a passed out homeless girl in his arms, Sam wondered what the fuck he’d gotten himself into?

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #hot bucky summer #hotbuckysummer2023 #late writes #mob!bucky x reader #mob au #mob!bucky

91 notes · View notes

miasmaghoul · 10 months

Note

chewing on swiss and cumulus

uh oh

i was bitten by the somno bug

swiss using his spooky shadows for nefarious (but consensual) purposes under the cut

She looks so pretty when she sleeps.

Well, she always looks pretty, but especially like this.

Bathed in moonlight, pale skin and snow white curls shimmering against deep navy sheets. Her ample chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, pale pink lips parted just enough for him to hear her soft sighs. She's uncovered, blanket bunched by her feet, clad only in a set of thin shorts and matching camisole.

She looks so peaceful. So delicate.

So vulnerable.

In truth he's been waiting since Cumulus got his attention in the common room. Since she wound her tail around his calf while they watched a baking show with Aurora and Mountain. Since she'd given his leg a surreptitious squeeze, just enough to draw his attention, before loosing an exaggerated yawn.

He's been here for a while now, leaning by her open window and simply...watching. Well, waiting may be a more apt term, but both apply.

"Think I'm gonna turn in early," she'd murmured, stretching enough that her shirt slid up, exposing her soft tummy and the bare undersides of her breasts.

Swiss had pretended to keep watching the show, but all of his attention was squarely on the ghoulette at his side. On the way she squeezed his hand, the way her tail slid up his leg. The way its feathery tip brushed over his crotch.

"Aww, c'mon Lulu," Aurora had pouted, raising her head from Mountain's thigh, "it's the semi-final! Don't you wanna see?"

"I've watched this season four times, snowflake," she'd replied with a chuckle. "Don't worry, I'll watch more with you tomorrow."

She'd sauntered over to plant a quick kiss on the other ghoulette's cheek, leaving Swiss no option but to stare at her ass. Mountain had made a soft chuffing sound, and of course she'd had to give him one too. Swiss had smirked.

"What, no love for me, Lus?"

Swiss had put on his best puppy dog eyes, and all three of them had snorted. Everyone knew those only worked on Rain. Maybe Dew, on a good day. Still, though, it had the desired effect. Cumulus had swished her way behind the couch he was on, leaning over to plant a kiss on his temple.

"Knew I was your favorite," he'd said, and had earned a playful smack to the back of his head for his troubles. She'd yawned again then, just as obvious and showy as before, and Swiss knew that the sparkle in her entrancing silver eyes was meant just for him.

"Good night," she'd sighed to the room in general. Mountain had echoed the sentiment, while Swiss gave her a wink that the others couldn't see.

"Sweet dreams," Aurora had called after her, blowing a kiss that Cumulus happily caught. Her smile was lazy, sweet, and aimed right at Swiss.

"I'm sure they will be."

Finding her door unlocked an hour later had been the only further invitation he'd needed.

A cool spring breeze rolls through Cumulus's open window, rustles sheer drapes, and when it ghosts over her ethereal form Swiss has the singular pleasure of watching her nipples stiffen. They poke through the pale blue silk of her camisole in a drool-worthy way, and the ghoulette gives an unconscious shiver. Poor thing must be chilly.

Swiss will make sure she doesn't stay that way much longer.

He likes to take his time when Cumulus allows him this freedom. Likes to watch, to absorb. To burn her serene visage into his memory for later use. Someday he'll have to ask if he can photograph her like this; she's just so beautiful, it's a crime she can't see for herself.

Swiss smiles to himself when she shifts, readjusting so one arm rests over her belly and the other by her side. Her soft curls have fallen into her face, and he can just make out the edge of a drool stain on her pillow. Deep asleep and completely oblivious.

Perfection.

Swiss palms himself as he pushes off the wall, striding on silent feet to the foot of the bed. He's been chubbed up since Cumulus teased him with her tail, had to hide it from Aurora and Mountain with a strategically placed pillow. One he certainly hadn't been tempted to hump, not even a little.

His shadows follow, a hazy aura of darkness gathered around his shoulders and dripping down his arms. They float when he moves, fluid in the way smoke is. It's rare that he gets to flaunt this little skill of his - few know about it, and he'd like to keep it that way. Every ghoul has their secrets, it's true, but getting to let loose always sets his skin buzzing.

Swiss takes a deep breath and focuses on the scent of the air, the feel of hardwood beneath his feet, the sound of Cumulus's gentle breathing. Makes himself one with the space around him in every way possible. Slowly, so very slowly, the shadows begin to move, to spread. They coat his arms, his chest, weaving intricate patterns over his skin. He doesn't really need to be naked for this, but it's not surprising that he is.

Dark whorls snake their way down his thighs, his calves, bleeding into the shadows at his feet. It's a jarring feeling, but not an entirely unpleasant one - his influence may be magickal, but the shadows themselves are like an extension of himself. He can feel all manner of things through them, depending on his point of focus. Can slip them into someone's silhouette to parse their emotions. Can smell bitter fear and taste sugary-sweet elation. He can listen too, sliding his unearthly ears wherever the dark allows.

If Imperator knew the secrets Swiss carries with him, he'd be banished before he could blink.

He sighs heavy through his nose when they find warm skin, a thin snake of darkness slithering its way over Cumulus's outstretched ankle. It shouldn't be so warm, wouldn't be if he were just using his hand, but like this? Like this she feels hotter than Dew.

His favorite thing, though, is this.

Touching. Feeling. Exploring. Letting his wispy tendrils get acquainted with his surroundings. It's easier now than it once was, Cumulus's chambers have long since become familiar territory, and in no time at all Swiss can guide his shadows creep up the legs of the bed frame. Onto the mattress. Over the sheets.

It takes no effort at all to guide his magick up her leg, tattooing her with his power in delicate swirls and ripples. He's gotten more adept at directing them since they started doing this, and Swiss takes a moment to draw a sweet little heart on her knee just because he can. It won't stay, of course, but it's the thought that counts.

The shadows continue, slipping up her plush thigh to tease the edge of her shorts. They sit high on her hips, exposing so much decadent skin. Swiss focuses, licks at the air, and finds his mouth filled with the taste of honey and lavender - Cumulus's body oil, the one Mountain makes just for her. No wonder she's shimmering in the moonlight. It suits her.

Cumulus adjusts in her sleep again, smacking her lips and making a soft sound that can't quite be called a word. Dreaming, he imagines. He can't tell, that falls more into Aether and Aeon's realm of expertise. His own sliver of quintessence gets him this far, and Swiss can't complain. Would he like to see inside her mind? Of course. Will he complain about sneakily getting in her pants instead? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

It's easy to slide under the hem of her shorts, reaching into the little pocket of darkness beneath them. A second shadow creeps its way up towards Cumulus's arm while the first explores the hidden skin beneath soft silk, wrapping itself around her elegant fingers as if it wants to hold her hand. A little bit of tenderness goes a long way, Swiss thinks. Even at times like this.

His own hands are busy doing some exploring of their own. Impossible not to when every fiber of his being can feel Cumulus's warmth. It radiates from his toes to his scalp and everywhere in between - Swiss would be concerned for anyone who could keep their hands off of their dick under these circumstances. He holds his at the base, twisting two fingers around the last inch or so just for the sake of pressure. His other hand mirrors the path of his first shadow, creeping up his own thigh, over his hip, up to his happy trail. He should be feeling coarse hair and his own delicately twitching stomach muscles.

Instead, all he feels is her.

His second sliver of shadow slips over her shoulder just as the first wriggles its way out from under the waistband of her shorts. It curls along her belly, just visible where her top has ridden up. Her breasts spill out from the edges of the camisole, pale fabric hugging the soft mounds, their tips still peaked with the chill of the room. That worming shadow sneaks along her neck - Swiss finds his nose filled with sweet perfume - and down over her chest, sliding beneath lace and silk to trace her curves.

He takes a moment to drink her in, coated in his power and yet still sleeping soundly. No reason she shouldn't be, this part is more for him than it is for her. It allows him to surround himself in the ghoulette, to revel in everything she is. Sometimes he'll take a few extra minutes to glide his magick along her horns, her tail, her feather-tipped ears. Really soak in the sensation, occassionally sending pulses of magick through the shadowy appendages to find her sensitive spots so he knows just where to press.

Tonight, though, he's already leaking onto the hardwood floor. Besides, he's done this enough to know her body. Better than she does, even. Cumulus would argue that fact whenever she needed a quick cum - after all, Swiss was more than eager to prove himself.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, fills his lungs with a heady combination of lavendar and ozone, and on exhale pushes more magick into those searching tendrils. Inch by inch they thicken, gain density. They shift from dark but translucent to opaque black, the new weight of them settling into her skin and forming bulges beneath her pajamas. The rush of it makes him dizzy - this is Swiss's newest skill, he's still not an expert - and the ghoul has to catch himself on one of the bedposts. It's hung with gauzy white fabric held by shiny blue rope, and Swiss briefly finds himself wondering if Cumulus would let him use them on her.

A thought for another day, surely. It makes his balls ache just the same, and Swiss has to give himself a lazy tug. Not too much, the best part is coming up. He wouldn't want to ruin it by getting too excited now.

Cumulus makes a soft sound when Swiss nudges the bed, but doesn't wake. He cocks his head as he takes in the shape of her, the curves and lines of her body. His tentacles - that really is a better word for them in this solid state, Swiss thinks - follow them, so striking against her skin. Gently, slowly, he urges the one in her top to move. To slither its tapered end up the curve of her breast, his eyes tracking each movement under that silk as it moves. As the flexible tip wraps around the stiff bud of her nipple, Swiss rubs his own. The sensation of it still reflects on his own body, but its dulled now that the shadows have solid form. It's something he's grown to expect, but Swiss likes to think he's come up with a creative solution.

He may not be able to feel all of Cumulus's pleasure, but he can sure as hell imitate its cause.

With a shivery exhale from Swiss, a third dark tentacle sprouts from the pool at his feet. It wraps its way up his calf just as Cumulus's tail had done earlier in the night, cool and smooth against his skin. He watches it crawl upwards, looping around his thigh and brushing against his heavy sack in the process. Swiss groans with it, a barely audible sound, guiding its length up his chest to tease his nipple. He makes it squeeze, makes the one on Cumulus do the same, and the combined sensation takes Swiss's breath away.

He can feel how heavy his eyelids have gotten, knows his breaths are already coming in harder. He can't help it, playing like this does something incomparable to his brain and body alike. And it's not like Cumulus isn't getting something out of it too; she'll wake up with wet shorts in the morning and know exactly why.

Swiss swirls a finger in the air and the slender appendage at her chest wraps itself around her full breast, squeezes, and Swiss mirrors every bit of it on his own pec. It's unconscious now, syncing them up. He'd struggled at first, made things a touch awkward, but now it's second nature.

Just like the fourth tentacle now coursing its way up his other leg, the thing wasting no time in matching how its twin rests on Cumulus's stomach. Hers wriggles over her beautiful pudge to press into her navel, prodding at the divot with teasing intent. Swiss smiles when his does the same, mostly because he feels the way it tickles her.

Cumulus makes her first real noise when Swiss rubs at her nipple again, the thin tip of his shadow flicking over the taut nub. It's no more than a soft, sudden inhale, barely noticable, but Swiss feels it in every inch of his body. She's never really noisy like this, but he's learned the ones she does make by heart.

The gasp she looses when he squeezes her nipples.

The quiet "nnh" sound that escapes when the second tentacle curls around the side of her shorts and tugs them slowly down just enough to expose her pretty pink cunt.

The breathy "oh" that marks the moment that dark, squirming arm slides its tip along her slit.

That one is his favorite.

She's slick to the eye, and Swiss's stomach swoops when he thinks about Cumulus touching herself before she dozed off. Got herself worked up, probably got so close, but didn't let herself cum. Probably stroked that gorgeous, fat clit of hers until it was aching and her whole body quivered. Until she was nice and slippery and open for him. Just for him.

Oh, Swiss will let her do whatever the fuck she wants to him tomorrow.

His own tentacle still follows, gliding up over his hip to settle at the base of his cock, replacing his tight fist. Swiss immediately grips the bed frame instead, still holding its post with the other, hunching with a choked gasp. It all feels so much better than it has any right to, he swears it. Even still, he allows the tentacles to move; Cumulus's dips itself between blushing lips to gather her slick, glistening in the low light, before Swiss directs it to the beautiful length of her clit. It's still reddened and puffy from Cumulus's own ministrations, and the second that tentacle glides over it, his own tickles his rapidly purpling tip.

They both make sounds then, Swiss a nearly-silent curse and Cumulus a low "ooh". Her tongue pokes out between her fangs when he repeats the motion, the corner of her eye twitching. He sucks his lip between his teeth when she starts getting stiff for him, that little bit of length going firm the more he works her. His own matches it, working his thick head and wriggling against his frenulum enough to milk drop after slippery drop of pre onto her soft sheets. His cock bounces with each one, Swiss giving a wholly involuntary rock of his hips when Cumulus throbs. He watches her hole clench and knows for certain that this will not be a long session.

Good thing he knows her so well.

The tip of the tentacle between her thighs stays at their apex, but further down, where things get just a bit thicker, the body of the thing starts to bend. To fold over on itself, doubling up into a curve of not-small girth. Not as thick as Swiss, of course, but enough to feel and a thousand times more flexible. His cock gives a hard twitch when the rounded end of it slips between her folds, his own working it's way down his shaft in response.

Fuck she's so warm inside, so velvety. He feels it tenfold like this, heat blooming low in his belly when his shadow presses into her welcoming hole. She lets out a brief groan at the stretch, the pressure, but Swiss doesn't relent. He invades her body with his power, matches it on his own, and only stops when the end of his tentacle wraps around the thick base of his cock. A pale imitation of the real thing, perhaps, but something about fucking her like this makes Swiss ache.

The first shallow rock of his hips is a revelation.

Evey time they do this, he swears he'll make it last. Tells himself that this time he won't fall apart so quickly. That he won't lose his composure like a teenager sticking his dick in a warm hole for the first time. He tries, he swears he tries, but -

"Fuck," he squeaks out, throat tighter than the slippery length squeezing his cock, "so wet, you're so wet Lus, shit."

She can't hear him, he knows she can't, but the way she flutters around him and huffs seems to suggest otherwise. She's so responsive like this, weak to every twitch of the ropes of darkness helping themselves to her body. Her chest has started to heave just enough to notice, her cheeks stained pale pink, and Swiss can't hope to keep himself from rolling his hips.

He's close so quick, the tentacle writhing around him in a perfect facsimile of Cumulus's wonderous body dragging him swiftly higher. He moans deep in his chest as his balls start to tighten, gritting his teeth and focusing all his attention on the ghoulette before him.

The tentacle on her chest has since wrapped itself around her other breast, rock hard nipples still jutting against the fabric as it teases them. Swiss's matching one does the same, little shocks of pleasure zipping straight to his groin with each touch.

The one between her legs works expertly to draw utterly unconscious moans from her parted lips, Swiss curving it just enough to drag over the places that he knows will have her soaking the sheets. Cumulus has started getting noisier with each thrust, so Swiss keeps them slow and even. The only measure of control he has left.

It doesn't make him last longer, though. The feel of it is too maddening - Swiss has to let himself go, he simply has no other choice. But he's nothing if not a gentleman, and he's certainly not going to cum before she does.

That wouldn't be proper.

Swiss has the tip of that slick tentacle working her clit again in a rabbit-quick heartbeat, flicking over the stiff head of it just the way she likes best. Swiss mirrors it with his tongue and drools as the taste of her fills his mouth, hips stuttering when his dick kicks hard. Honey-sweet musk overwhelms his senses, and Swiss has to hang his head as he humps the air with jerky, amateurish motions.

It's no time before the tentacle undulating around him goes telltale tight, and Swiss's whimper is impossible to hold back. He chokes on his exhale when Cumulus's breathing goes harsh, and with one last pump of his eager hips he's shooting hard and heavy onto her bed.

It hits him like a truck, an orgasm that feels like it starts in his toes and ends at the tips of his hair. Swiss paints her sheets with pearly white stripes as his cock bobs and jerks around, leaving a huge mess behind. He couldn't care less, not when Cumulus shudders and grunts through her own orgasm, a hot rush of fluid coating his shadow while her thighs quiver. Every inch of him throbs with it, his cock drooling out everything has.

He's so dazed he can hardly see straight, entranced by the way she twitches through it, the way her breath catches. He works himself right into writhing oversensitivity in the name of wringing every last drop of pleasure from her. He'd stay like this forever if he could, lost in their combined buzz of sensation and blessed relief.

One of these days he'll last more than five minutes.

Swiss waits until she's breathing normally before he lets his shadows retreat, sighing as they slip slowly back into the dark. The one that slides from her cunt leaves a shiny, wet trail along her thigh and Swiss drools down his chin.

Exhaustion hits hard once the magick fades away, makes him sway in place, and with a mighty yawn Swiss forces himself away from the bed. He shuffles alongside it as he blinks impending sleep from his eyes, a dopey smile firmly place as he takes in Cumulus's lovely face. Perfectly relax and deeply satisfied, obvious even in her sleep. He leans down to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, and has to press a quick kiss to her forehead on his way back up.

Swiss gathers her bunched up blanket then, tucks the ghoulette in right up to her neck. Blocks out the returning chill and relishes the soft hum she gives in return.

He doesn't fix her pajamas, though. Leaves her top askew and her shorts around her thighs. A little something to make her throb when she wakes up, before she even feels evidence of him. He knows it'll pull the loveliest chiming giggle from her, one he's heard before, and even the thought sends a delightful shiver down his spine.

He stumbles back to his room on drunken legs, flops face first into bed, and knows that when he wakes up in about a dozen hours it'll be to her mouth on his cock.

Swiss falls asleep with a smile on his face.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #swiss/cumulus #swiss x cumulus #this is literally a full fic wth #god when will i learn #ugh #anyway #here there be #somnophilia #be forewarned of that is not your thing

71 notes · View notes

kalechipslives · 9 months

Text

sorekara setting design

Here are some notes on the development of SOREKARA's style and presentation. If you couldn't already tell, SK takes a lot of inspiration from 70's/80's anime, Nobody's Boy Remi being the reference point for much of it. I've always respected Dezaki for his monumental work so I've always wanted to pay tribute to it (especially the early stuff). I don't think I was as successful as I'd like to have been, but alas! There is still more to come! So without further ado!

I was just talking about Dezaki , but now I shall talk about something completely different. To set the tone, I created the cat and the trolley setting first. The Girl's design should be plenty obvious (lol). But the background here I paid special attention to... I find the paints of Night on the Galactic Railroad to be very unique. They have a line less, airbrushed quality to them that blends in surprisingly well with the characters. I did some research and studied 児玉喬夫 Takao Kodama's work, as they were credited with setting design for this film as well as Genji Monogatari. Actually, if you look at Genji Monogatari's backgrounds, they have the exact same airbrushed quality! I had never done a background like this before (I am certainly not an environmental artist) but I think I did a fairly good job of it.

...I immediately switched gears and without thinking, went back to Dezaki works. I can't say I was very faithful at all. The night sky is easy to paint, with it's notable color spray and paint blots, but I diverged quite a bit with the watercolor textures. Shichiro Kobayashi is the artist I looked to the most, and this project made me appreciate him more than ever before. Just looking at his paints gets me emotional... The vibrant colors, the dramatic angles, you can just feel his reverence for life overflowing from the work. There really isn't anyone better. I need to study more if I'm to capture even a fraction of his skill. That being said, I did make sure to animate the backgrounds slightly with the sparkles on the water-- The reflection of light on water is my favorite to draw! Also, flowers are a very important motif (for various reasons, ohohoho). Kobayashi seemed to love drawing flowers, the paint around the edges give is a delicate look. Actually, if you look at the textbox...

Instead of full-color CGs, I opted to use "postcard memories". This was a technique Dezaki used where he would show a detailed, scratchy-lined illustration to highlight important moments instead of fully animating them. It creates a really memorable image that draws out all of your emotions! I tried to emulate them (the more single-toned ones, that is) for the game. It was 1/3 Dezaki worship, 1/3 time-saving technique, and 1/3 excuse to draw lots of scratchy lines. I love scratchy lines. This way, I could make a lot of memorable shots that were visually interesting without overworking myself.

As another note, I looked to Akio Sugino's character art when drawing. The characters don't really look like Sugino characters, but I was emulating his shading technique with (once-again) the scratchy lines. Ah, I was in heaven. Looking at his older work, the linework is hardly ever clean-- but the rough, hand-drawn edge gives everything a tactile quality and the strong anatomy makes everyone so gorgeous. It's like an engraving come to life.

Finally, the anime effects! On the left you can see soothat before his values are adjusted (very dark, isn't he?) and on the right you can see he is in-game, values adjusted with a more appropriate "anime" look. This is because anime cells are put onto a CRT screen, so they end up looking very different. I created an auto action in CSP to adjust the color grating and line quality of every asset before popping them into the game for the chromatic aberration to take effect. The lines are slightly crunched a blurrier compared to the original. It gives it a more "physical" look. The colors are fixed up-- you'll see there is no pure black. If you look at a physical anime cell, you'll see they more often than not do not include pure black. There is usually a tint of green or red in there.

The chromatic aberration filter... I don't know how noticeable it is to the average player, but the game actually has a built-in filter that creates a slight "chroma" effect to emulate the look of frames through a crt/light. This means the red + blue + green values of the entire screen are split up and adjusted to layer slightly off from each other, giving it a little visual interest. It was AN EXTREME doozy to put in, with my poor programmer coding it and re-coding it until the end. It seemed simple at first, but there are parts where the game zooms in which totally broke the filter! It made out eyes bleed! But it was repaired in the end, so blessing upon you, Sandy. You saved my life.

The reason why I looked to Ie Naki Ko/Nobody's Boy Remi specifically is because that's where I feel the most "pure" energy from. It is a show that leans incredibly hard on it's techniques to get by but because of that it really embodies what I love about old anime-- It has a selfless reverence for its subject that drives you to watch and surrender your heart. Dezaki's powerful directing, Sugino's gorgeous drawings and Kobayashi's majestic paintings come together to make a work that shines. The setting is truly at the forefront with the characters getting lost in the grandeur. That's the attitude I had with SOREKARA: "There are things much greater than us, so isn't it wonderful that we are able to see them side-by-side?" There are many animation techniques that are cost-effective while still being utterly beautiful, I would love to copy them someday but I wasn't able to go that far yet. At least not in the demo. There's still time, I suppose... Studying limited animation from old anime is actually extremely useful when creating visual novels. Understanding the placement of cells and their layering/movement has given me even more ideas for stories!

I ended up going on a rant about anime again ^^" But it's so beautiful, you must now understand my heart going into the work. I always think of my characters and their journey, of course, but before that I think of the setting. I want the player to experience beautiful and mysterious things alongside their traveling companions. There is still so much more to make. I hope to incorporate more Dezaki-style techniques in this and future works. Please remember the true message of my works.... Not that love finds a way, or that your connections can transform your world...it's that....anime is very, very cool.

Thank you for reading 🙇🏽‍♂️

#game dev #sorekara end of a journey #visual novel #vn dev #indie dev #dev diary #osamu dezaki

17 notes · View notes

bmpmp3 · 9 months

Text

i shouldnt really be giving any hot takes on character design as someone who, despite having mild success in the adoptable scene in highschool, absolutely does NOT still got it when it comes to character designing (nowadays im just trying to do my best orz) but i do think one of the most important things with character design is that they serve the medium theyre in well.

like, a super exaggerated shape style triangle man with tiny legs a la mr incredible works great for an action cartoon movie but i dont know how good that style would work in a visual novel where you tend to only see the top half of the body. you wont be able to appreciate the tiny legs 😔

and as much as i goof on the visually cluttered anime boys in otome games and their odd fashion choices (kent from amnesia. at least 21 belts. 11 on one arm alone) i genuinely think they work for what they need to do, like all those fucking sashes and scarves and cords and capes and swishy things on the ikemen sengoku guys, painful to draw for me who wants to draw a goofy comic of them but WONDERFUL for an unanimated visual novel sprite, flowing clothes and hair adds a lot of movement to static images that you'll be staring at for 20-50 hours.

but of course on the visual novel/japanese adv game end of things u also have stuff like phoenix wright and the absolutely beautiful hotel dusk that tend to have blockier silhouettes than the fluttery flowing cloth and hair of like, a character in a bishoujo game from Key or something, but their sprites are animated which benefits from the blockier and (usually) less cluttered designs.

and theres still lots of exaggeration to be had to get very varied character designs, like the jake hunter games have a very grounded semi-realistic style but everyones posture and body types and expressions are pretty distinct, just the distinction is focused on the upper half of the body rather than the whole body like you would focus on with a comedy slapstick cartoon or like a comedy newspaper comic strip. okay its becoming increasingly obvious through what im talking about that i grew up in north america in the 00s-10s using deviantart where if ur cartoons didnt look like disney or pixar or like i dont know johnny test ur designs were considered not good enough so im still in that world. im still in that world. i hope the world is more open now

and something like the hotel dusk designs also would work well for drama or thriller comics - like i was also thinking about big sparkling shoujo manga designs and like. in a comic if ur like a garfield slapstick comedy u wanna look like a garfield, but if ur constantly doing closeups with serious emotion like a romantic drama shoujo manga, having big glittering expressive eyes and emphasizing the upper half of the character is pretty effective for the combination of medium and genre. i also think naoki urasawa's character designs would look so so good in a hotel dusk style game, that guy makes like the perfect thriller design, varied and diverse in shapes but so effective for a serious toned horror mystery thriller thing will lots of closeups of characters faces. i guess because i love serious and dramatic stories about people talking a whole lot i do gravitate towards this style of character design, where the emphasis is on the silhouette from the waist up LOL but it really goes to show that some character designs that may not fit the late 2000s comedy animation shape-based design philosophy have their own places where they thrive <- obvious thing everyone knows except for me who was on deviantart too much when i was 12

i think what im trying to say is i think big boobied super busy anime girl vtuber designs are fine, good even. i like em, i think they do the job and a lot of work goes into them. u only have a headshot/bust (heh) shown on screen 99% of the time u might as well make it with a bunch of particle effects and cool hairclips and lace and weird moving head wings or some shit. slap some sparkles on that thang

#i really am like a washed up highschool jock when it comes to character design. i used to be so good #im not BAD now but theres plenty of things to improve on LOL #i can't stop making the same 20 something year old vaguely ambiguous mixed race everyman normal guy character #sowwy. it will happen again. it me #old man voice BACK IN MY DAY I COULD BUST OUT 4 DESIGNS A DAY #they would sell within the WEEK. the WEEK SONNY BOY. do you HEAR ME #THE WEEK!!!!#alright grandpa now lets go back to bed (you guys are saying this to me in my strange tag roleplay scenario)#(u guys are my. grandchildren? maybe)#oh this is a long ass post isnt it. hold on im trying to remember to tag that kinda thing more often #long post

11 notes · View notes

riosnecktattoo · 2 years

Note

Hi queen . If you don't mind can u share a sneak peak of any fic that ur working on please? ( I love your blog sm btw ) 💕🥺

Hi lovely 🥰

Of course! I'm finally making progress with Cherry Trees Part II so here's a big snippet for you 💜

Rio’s eyes sparkle as he lets the silence drag. A syrupy-slow smirk appearing on his face, tongue poking between his teeth quickly in that snake-like way of his.

“Baby, you ain’t slick.”

Beth fumbles for words. Unable to make out his expression. It’s playful but—but warm. Warm in a way that knows her too well. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why’re you here?” Rio hums, suddenly pressing away from the beam he was leaning against. Stepping towards her.

“I told you, I—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” he nods. Swaying closer. Almost within reach. “Stan’s birthday. ‘Urgent balloon business.’”—he mimics her, suppressing a laugh. His full lips pouting stupidly over the word balloon—“We covered all that. I mean forreal.”

She gulps as he comes to stand right in front of her. Her hands interlaced low behind her back, shoulders digging in to the door frame as she squirms and tries to stand up straighter.

The effect makes her chest even more pronounced and she doesn’t miss the way his gaze trickles down her body as she shakily inhales.

“Don’t you think we should talk about it?”

“Talk about—what?” he shrugs. Brow furrowed like he’s clueless.

“What happened at the weekend.”

Rio’s head tilts to the side, the muscle in his jaw working as he takes her in. “Which was?”

“We kissed,” she whispers. Voice laced with irritation, but coming out far too breathy.

He grins all big then. His pearly white teeth bursting in to a satisfied smile. Like that’s all he’s been wanting her to acknowledge.

“We did?”

“Rio—” Beth hisses.

“I dunno, I’m kinda hazy on the details. Might need you to jog my memory.”

Beth blushes, rolling her eyes as she reaches both her hands forward and shoves him in the chest so he rocks backwards.

His buoyant chuckle makes her feel lightheaded as he takes his right hand out of his pocket, hooks a finger through the belt loop of her jeans and uses it as an anchor to pull himself far too close. Chest to chest. Looming over her suddenly.

“I remember, Elizabeth,” he purrs softly. Seriously.

She heaves a relieved, stuttering sigh. Unable to look away from him. The way his dark eyes cloud over with something. Something that makes her skin prickle with heat.

“Been thinkin’ about it a lot actually.”

“Y-you have?”

“Mhmm.”

“What did you think about?”

“Same as you,” he rasps. And just for a second as he searches her face she thinks oh god, he knows.

He smirks, far too pleased with whatever he finds in her eyes and her cheeks burn with how obvious she must be. “Y’know, just that we should—talk about it.”

Beth’s throat closes up as Rio dips his head slightly closer. Crowds her back against the door fully. His left hand lifting to hook a finger through the other belt loop.

“Cause that’s all you wanna do, right?” he levels her with a look. “Talk?”

She stares back, desperately trying to appear calm and confident and in control. Her pulse races, and as his hard chest presses more deliberately against hers her eyes flutter closed. Her lips part. Waiting.

But nothing happens. And when she opens her eyes she finds him watching her intensely.

“Darlin’, if you want me to kiss you all you gotta do is ask.”

#asks #What Spring Does with the Cherry Trees #my fic #my writing #nbc good girls #brio fic #💜🍒🌳#thank you lovely anon ❤️#as always very rough not edited blah blah #shenanigans in in part 2 obvs but part 3 will be where i go crazy #im assuming #they're still very adamantly friends #lmaooooo #LIARS

39 notes · View notes

bun-x-arts · 2 years

Note

For the ask game: 30, 14 and 12? :0

12) easiest part of body to draw:

Personally, eyes! I drew so many shoujo eyes growing up that its second nature now, which is handy when i break out those styles lol

14) motifs, hmm, I mean i feel like maybe theyre obvious, but maybe they arent lmao

I grew up on magical girls, and as a result motifs and themes i tend to use in my art are typical shoujo stuff; love, friendship, perhaps a bit of like, the sense of "other" in that like, celestial way- i know that makes no sense but im talking about like the goddess effect. Neo Queen Serenity, Godoka, etc. On a physical note, lots of frills, lace and sparkles galore. The usual fare of cutesy art stuffs.

30) one of my works that I think is underrated:

Definitely the Corridor of Memory piece I did of my girl Jade! I was so over the top stoked with how it turned out, but it didnt fetch as many notes as i thought it would lmao. And yes while I make my art for myself, its still nice when something you make gets a lot of love, and when it doesn't, you cant help but be a little sad. But my pride in my work often outweighs that.

Thanks for asking!

#bun talks #ask game

1 note · View note

skyfall8600 · 2 years

Text

Touched By Darkness (Chapter 8)

This is an original work of mine, I do not permit anyone to copy or repost it anywhere. If you would like to interact with it or write something similar, please message me and give credit where it is due.

Series Masterlist

Original Works Masterlist

Warnings: slight kidnapping, swearing and love triangles.

[2.8k]

———————————————————————————————————————————————————-

I started to feel dizzy because of how many times we turned left and right, into different hallways. Especially because they all practically looked the same. Black marble flooring, variations of dark red and grey carpets along the walls, stopping just below delicate fine china. Glossy statues of powerful men were in every archway, all their expressions were dull and stern; any that included the female were often lifeless, no emotional connection to the man standing next to them with their man gripping their shoulder. Power and dominance, that was all the statues were trying to depict.

“Do you know where you are yet?” Julius asks me, he stops walking in the middle of the corridor.

I look all around me, the only thing I remember about this hallway is that it looks exactly the same to the others. “Should I?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.” He snapped at me with a smile on his face. I had said that exact sentence to him, only a few days ago.

“Hey!” I squeal, “That’s different.”

“Hmmm, so you can say that to other people but you don’t like it being said to you, that doesn’t seem fair.” He smirked. He was still a few steps in front of me, leading the way. He had to turn his head slightly in order to meet my eyes, and from that angle I could make out the exact way his lip curved more to one side when he smiled.

He was utterly mesmerising.

“Well guess what…” I started to say, trying to hide the obvious effect he had on me, “life isn’t fair. Nothing in this entire world is fair.”

He stared at me, an amazed look in his eyes.

“That is a very wise statement.”

I started to feel embarrassed and my cheeks started to heat up. “Are we at my room yet?” I tried to change the topic but his stare just became more intense.

He held out his hand to the door to the left, “This is my room, the one you run out of for no reason…..” His other pointed to the door on the right, “And this will be your room during your stay.”

“Should I be concerned that it seems relatively well planned given how quickly you kidnapped me? Out of every hallway, my room just happens to be right next to yours.” I said without thinking. And I regretted it instantly.

His eyes closed and the smile dropped from his face. His hands dropped to his side and he walked firmly to his door.

“I didn’t mean that-“

“All your meals will be brought to you, good night Electra.” He said, interrupting my failed attempt at an apology. His door slammed shut behind him, leaving me on my own.

The room was practically black, the king sized bed had a fur rug on the edge of it and a mountain of pillows at the top. The sheets looked like it was silk, I could just imagine the soft texture against my skin, so smooth and—I shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“Don’t get too comfortable, I need to find a way back, I can’t stay here.” I kept repeating this in my mind, as I walked around the overly big room something caught my eye.

Just a faint sparkle reflecting from the sunset and onto what seemed to be some kind of jewel, the necklace was hanging next to the bay window and it was almost completely impossible to see.

The sun was now a burning mixture of orange and reds, the view from the window was looking over the villages, you could see the small buildings and the street lamps being turned on.

As I moved closer to the window, my heart almost drew to a stop as I saw what the necklace was. I was almost too shocked as I held it in my hand.

“My locket.”

I ran my index finger over the engraved letters, the small little diamond was shining bright because of the setting sun.

I stood there in disbelief, I wondered to myself how did it get here? Or even better, which of my new male acquaintances had left it in my room?

I doubt it would have been Blake, he seems to be so sweet to me now but only a couple of days ago the only he talked to me was about me being dead. Although he was so kind, the thing is …. He would never have known about my locket, it was near impossible for him to know how much it meant to me. Julius on the other hand, would know more about it than him.

Julius

I forced the locket’s chain to disconnect from the window and I run out of the room and I stopped in front of Julius’ door.

I think twice before knocking on the door, I know I’m crazy but it seems like almost everything that happens… my mind somehow makes its way back to him. Back to the man who saves me time and time again, the man that makes me react so irrationally and my heart beats speed up.

I raise my hand to knock, I only slightly touch the door with my fist.

As soon as I knocked, I hoped that I didn’t do it too loudly as I then rush back to my door, running away like a coward.

I didn’t make it, just as I went to sneak back into my room he opened his door. “Electra?”

“Sorry. I just-- never mind.” I mumble and turn around to give him an apologetic smile.

He opens his door fully now, “What is it?” he steps out of the door way and takes another step closer to me.

“I just— just wanted to ask if you were the one to… to put my locket in my room.” I hold up the golden necklace.

He smiles softly, giving me half a smirk, “I found it the same night you were struck, it must have unchained from you, and I found it on the floor along with all the shattered glass.”

I knew it had to be him, “Thank you, this was the last thing my parents gave me.”

“Your parents didn’t give you that. One day you’ll find out who.” He moves back to facing his door, “Good night Electra.”

“I think I would remember if my parents gave it to me or not. Why don’t you tell me anything? One day I’ll tell you, one day you’ll find out, one day— one day— one day…. Just tell me!”

“Good night Electra!” he once again slams the door behind him, although different to last time. There was no anger or pain in his voice, if anything… he smiled.

I didn’t want to sleep in the bed, as much as I wanted to… I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

The night passed quickly and thankfully, I fell asleep next to the window. I woke up every now and then and the only thing that reminded me of where I was… was the unknown pattern of the stars. They weren’t the stars and constellations I was used to seeing and that frightened me, they looked just as beautiful but were completely foreign. It was unsettling and I couldn’t find the comfort I normally sought out from the night sky.

The only thing was, the stars weren’t foreign to this land, I was. I didn’t belong here, Julius had to get that in his head and he needed to take me back home.

What completely scared me wasn’t just about the stars, but it was the two moons that decorated the sky. One was a blue that created light blue shadows and the other was violet.

Two moons.

Earth doesn’t have two moons.

Hoping that it was just my imagination getting the best of me, I wished that sleep would take me once the sun went up.

My arms shivered and the tiny hairs started to stand up, the room was getting colder by the minute, with both colours reflecting from the moons as the temperature dropped.

It was so tempting to get up and lock myself in the bed sheets, imagining its warmth to help me to sleep.

As the night skies faded and the sun started to rise, heat didn't come with it. The air was still cool and thick.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, my head was leaning on the cold glass of the window. I held my legs closely to my chest with my arms, trying to keep me warm. The silk gown that I had magically found myself in did nothing to help. Yes the fabric felt sensational against my skin, but it made me feel like the body I was in was not my own.

My entire body was numb, the sun was fully out but no light was meeting my room and warming it up.

Once the sun had fully risen, I didn't acknowledge the knocks on the door and I didn’t plan too. Julius could wait until I was ready to speak to him.

“Excuse me, Miss?” I raise my head at the sound of a young female voice coming from the other side of the door. “Miss?”

I moved so fast that my head began to spin. Another girl is here, do they intend to use us as maids once we’re here?

She knocked again, “Miss, are you alright?” I could hear her tampering with the door handle, struggling to get it open.

I unlocked the door and released my hold of it as she made it swing open, causing me to lose my balance and plunge down onto the floor.

She rushes to my side and apologizes, “Miss! I am very sorry.” As she helps me stand she brushes off any form of dust that smeared on my silk gown.

“Miss, what seems to be that matter?” she talks so… so… I don’t even know how to describe it. Her talking mannerism was old. “Oh dear, I must have given you quite a fright for you not being able to speak.”

I took in her appearance and was shocked to see that she had a simple yet elegant maid’s uniform on, her dirty blonde hair was in a perfectly braided bun with some strands creeping over her face.

“It’s alright, no one will hurt you here, and there is no need to feel threatened or like a prisoner in this palace. Now where would you like to receive your breakfast?” She asked so calmly, fully unphased by what she said.

My eyes drifted to the table that was placed by the window, she smiled as if she understood what I meant by my single gaze.

“The pri- Julius has requested that I will join you for your meal in order for you to become accustomed to the palace walls.” She stuttered on the first two words, as though she was going to say something else.

She left the room and entered quickly again while holding a silver tray, the food was underneath a big metal lid. She placed the tray on the table, still showing her soft smile.

Remembering the other time that I received a tray full of unknown food, I felt myself start to gag as I recalled the horrible foods that were served to me in the hospital. I hesitated before lifting up the lid.

“Please be good food.” I whispered. My fingers tingled at the touch of the cold metal, my hand was shaking too much and it fell out of my gasp.

The loud bang coming from the lid crashing to the floor made me jolt at the quick and sharp sound of the metal crash.

I crouch down to pick up the lid, when I look back up a dark figure was standing in the door way. “Are you having a little bit of trouble there, Princess?”

I shake my head and stand up properly, “No I—I just dropped the lid.” Blake stepped into my room and his features became visible because of the light, his hair sparkled by the sun.

“Well, I won’t stop you from enjoying your breakfast any longer, I’ll see you soon Princess.” Hearing him call me that made me smile, it’s weird how a single pet name could make you feel so differently towards a person.

He gave me one last smile and he closed the door on his way out. Just as the door was getting closer to becoming fully closed, I managed to see Julius looking straight at us. My smile faded as I saw his fallen expression, his heart broken pale eyes.

I break my train of thought, trying not to think too much about the precise way my heart shattered at seeing his sad face. I focused on something that would settle my roaring stomach.

The food did in fact look…. appealing, the toast wasn’t burnt, the butter wasn’t turning green and the juice actually looked fresh. There were also some scrambled eggs that looked perfectly cooked.

“Thank god I can eat this.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————-

🌟 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Please support your fellow artists by reblogging works. Tumblr does not use likes as anything other than a bookmark 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Chapter 9

Series Taglist

@olipratton

#original characters #original works #love triangle #supernatural romance #supernatural genre #princess #romance #skyfall8600

0 notes

diaperdrysuitdrone1950 · 2 years

Text

INDOCTRINATION

Indoctrination

“Just last week he became a bonifide ‘sex slave’. I’m now trying to decide if we want to push further—to making him into a ‘sex pig’ or ‘sex fiend’.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Those are the three different designations. In many ways they make a progression: if you attain ‘sex slave’ you might work to become a ‘sex pig’. If you get to 'sex pig’ you might be able to achieve 'sex fiend’.”

“What’s the difference? Sounds to me like just different terms for the same thing.”

“Oh no, in fact they’re really quite distinct. See, I may want to keep this guy—” he puts his hand on the young guy’s shoulder and shakes him a little for effect, “—as a slave because if he were to become a pig or fiend, I would have to make sure he was in the right environment where he had a lot of access to men. I couldn’t just lock him up whenever I’m away like I do now.”

“Okay, you’ve got my curiosity. Start from the beginning.” What started as a small exchange of words a minute ago is rapidly turning into a bizarre conversation.

“What you see before you is my sex slave. My slave here has gone through a great deal of conditioning. We started with him about five weeks ago. He’s gone through a continual regimen of hypnosis, edging, programming—every time we would reach one level of mind control, we would dig deeper, break down new barriers, implant new suggestions and triggers, walk him through different scenarios.”

“You said 'we started with him’… Who is 'we’?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Suffice to say it takes more attention than one person can do alone. Anyway, I had to be present for much of it, since he had to be programmed to see me as his master—the ultimate authority. But you have to understand, the regimen that I’m talking about, it is almost continuous. Eighteen or twenty hours a day. Sometimes he could be strapped down with a hypnotic recording being piped into his eyes and ears with a visor and headphones, but most of the work had to be more hands-on. Much more than I alone could do.”

“Wow. And this goes on for weeks?”

“It goes on until we break through that final barrier. The time it takes differs between individuals, but to attain complete and total mind control—it can’t be done any faster than three or four weeks.”

“So, what does 'total control’ entail?”

“There are a few things. First, I can immediately and instantaneously put him into the deepest hypnotic trance. From there, he will do anything I ask him to do. Anything I say will become an absolute and imperative truth in his mind.

“Second, most of the time I keep him in a state where he has no identity or memory of the past. Sometimes it’s necessary when he’s in public to let him temporarily act like his original self—so old friends and family don’t file a missing person’s report—but most of the time he doesn’t know anything except that he’s my sex slave. Isn’t that right my pet?”

The slave nodded, a little dully.

“Slave, you’re going to come out of your trance. I want you to be more 'present’. If we ask you a question, I want you to be able have a conversation with us, okay?”

“Okay master!” the slave blinked a couple times. The blank glaze in his eyes was replaced by a bit of a sparkle. He looked at his master and me alternatively.

“Can I ask him a question?” I asked, cautiously.

“Sure. Ask him anything.”

“What’s your name?” I went for the obvious one.

The slave shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “I don’t have one. But you can call me 'slave’ if you want. Most people do.”

“Do you enjoy being a slave?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” his answer had no hesitation, “It makes me very happy.”

“Why does it make you happy?”

“Hmm. Well…” he started slowly, searching for the explanation, “Whenever my master tells me something… when he tells me what to think… I don’t know, it just makes me so happy. It’s hard to describe. I love the feeling when he’s putting thoughts into my mind. It’s like being filled with something wonderful. It’s sort of like when he’s filling my ass with his cock—there isn’t anything more wonderful.”

Wow. Whoever expected a sex slave to be so poetic?

“Do you remember anything before you became a slave?”

“Not… really. I remember a little bit of the process while I was becoming a slave. Some memories were fainter, some were clearer. The edging was excruciating—wanting to cum, not being allowed to and yet continually being stroked and teased… and it seemed to go on forever! My favorite moment was when my will and my mind were completely broken. You see, it’s all a process of being put in a state where at first you can’t help but try to resist so that you can be broken, and then they start all over again. But the final bit when the last of my willpower snapped. That was amazing. I think I’ll always remember that.”

“How could you tell?”

“Oh, it’s hard to explain, but it was obvious to me when it actually happened. It’s like the first time you ever came—you know, when you were a kid, messing around with yourself, bringing yourself closer to this strange feeling, and out of the blue you crossed that magic threshold and you started ejaculating. That strange sense of being carried into a place you had never been before—it was like that, but with my mind. I just knew that I would never need to be broken again because I would never be able to resist ever again.”

The master interrupted us, “So that’s essentially what it means to be a sex slave, using our formal designation. Shall I tell you what it means to become a “sex fiend” instead?“

I nodded.

“You have to start by first becoming a sex slave. We have to achieve that mental conditioning as a foundation. But from there it gets very different. Although people have the ability to put you in a hypnotic state periodically, you don’t have a single master anymore.

“Well…” he corrected himself, “you do have a master, but it’s not any person: it’s your cock.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. You get conditioned so that when you first start getting aroused, your level of horniness just keeps building and building until your mind can’t do anything but act on your sexual impulses. You’ll fuck or suck or fondle any guy that’s around you. You’ll agree to pretty much anything as long as it leads to more sex and more intensity—as long as you do exactly what your hungry cock wants you to do.

"The other thing about being a 'sex pig’ is that we take your existing fetishes—we dig them out of your head, any little hidden desires you once had, and we blow them up to the most extreme state so that they become an obsession. If you thought that rubber was kind of hot, your cock—your new master—will turn you into a rubber fanatic: you’ll try to be dressed head-to-toe in it, and if you see anyone wearing rubber gear, you’ll be driven mad with desire… and you’ll act without hesitation on that desire.”

I’ll confess, my own cock had been stirring during this entire conversation, but it started getting rock hard at this point. I had hoped nobody would notice, but I saw the master glance down and smile.

“We also plant some new fetishes and memories in your brain that you never had before. But we program your memory so that you think they had been always part of your core identity since childhood. Unlike the sex slave who has no identity, the sex pig may become a leather pig or a rubber pig. He may become a bodybuilder or get full-body tattoos or whatever we choose in implant on his personality profile. And sometimes we’ll change his identity month to month. But one thing is certain: he will have a lot of sex with a lot of people.”

“So, what’s the difference between that and a 'sex fiend’? That was the third and final state of progression, right?” I had to ask.

“Ah well… if you’re a sex pig, you’ll have sex whenever the opportunity presents itself. It won’t be unusual to have sex two or three times a day, and each time it may go on for hours. It depends on the opportunities and the situations. But in between sex, you might be going out for a pizza or working out at the gym or watching some television—or you may 'moonlight’ as a sex slave and sleep in someone’s cage. My point is that there’s something that you do in between your sexual experiences.

"But with the sex fiend, we take it all a step further. And it takes a lot of conditioning and some physical alteration and radical drug therapies to get there. Have you ever seen a chain smoker? I mean a real serious chain smoker, who is so addicted to nicotine that after one cigarette he can’t go more than five minutes before he desperately needs that next cigarette?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. But I once met someone like that.”

“Well, we actually synthesize a real physical addiction to sex—it’s biologically tied to the same parts of the brain that respond to nicotine or even morphine, with the same intensity and the same build-up speed as that of a chain smoker. So, let’s say you’ve just had your third orgy of the day, each lasting an hour or two; you’ve all had your orgasms. Everyone goes his own way, and you go get a glass of water, maybe some food. You’ll sit down, and within five or ten minutes your cock will start to get hard and you’ll feel that same intense horniness—the one we programmed into you when we were making you into a sex pig. And you’ll do anything you can to find some release and—oh…” he stopped, suddenly remembering something.

“What?” I ask.

“I forgot to mention. Back in the beginning. Back when we’re conditioning you and making you into a sex slave…”

“Yeah?”

“Hey slave, whip out your cock of a second.”

The slave, who was listening as intently as I was, immediately obeys, unsnapping the leather front-plate from his harness and holds his erect cock in one hand.

The master instructs him: “Feel how hard your cock is. Squeeze it. Yeah, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

I notice some people are looking over at us, but nobody gets up to do anything. People in this leather bar have seen worse, and it gets pretty raunchy here on Thursday nights. The slave squeezes his cock with both hands, and it gets really stiff. “Yeah, it feels good.” he says.

“You’re feeling really horny right now. You’ll do anything for release, right?”, the slave nods and he continues, “Okay, so go ahead and jack off.”

The slave stops immediately and looks up at him, suddenly tortured and confused.

“I can’t”

“Why not?” the master asks, glancing over at me to indicate that he was demonstrating something very important.

“It’s the first rule—the rule I can never break, even when instructed.”

“Tell our friend here what that first rule is.”

The slave stammers, “I’m not allowed to masturbate—not in any form. I must always depend on someone else to bring me sexual stimulation.”

“Very good. You may try to put your cock away. Oh, that’s not going to work.” There’s no way the slave’s cock could ever fit back behind that leather strap now that it had stiffened straight out. He digs into his bag and hands the slave a bigger leather jock. “Here, put this on instead.”

The master then turns back to me, “The point I was trying to make is that whether you’re a 'sex slave’, a 'sex pig’, or a 'sex fiend’, your brain is programmed for it to be impossible for you to relieve yourself. So, as I was saying, if you’re a sex fiend and you’ve just had this long and intense session of sex, and you’re recovering and five or ten minutes later your cock starts growing again, you find yourself back at the starting line. You get insanely aroused to the point that you can’t string two thoughts together. All you can do is figure out how to find someone to have sex with. Someone to help you get 'release’ because you’re not allowed to take care of things yourself.”

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask

“Yes, after a long day of nearly constant sex, after one of your orgasms, you’ll be so tired that you simply pass out from exhaustion. But even that is problematic.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the physical withdrawal starts to build while you’re sleeping. You won’t be able to go more than about three or four hours you invariably get woken up by a raging hard-on. I’ve heard that all your dreams center around intense sexual themes. Sex fiends sometimes learn how to take quick cat-naps between sessions when they can. You see, the point is that you are always on the edge—never able to free your mind from constant sexual arousal. Your life feels like a never-ending, perpetual edging session.”

I just stood there trying to visualize what that would be like. For a while I was at a loss of words. Then I asked, "So how did your slave sign up for this in the first place? I mean, well… did he give consent in the beginning?”

The guy looked at me with a strange intense smile that made me squirm. “If you’re asking if I kidnapped him and pressed him into service, no, that’s not how it works. It’s actually much simpler than that.”

He continues: “In a couple of minutes, my slave and I are going to leave this club. It’s been good for him to get out and get a whiff of what the outside world looks like, but it’s time to get him back into his cage. Now imagine that you just walked out with us. There’s no harm in that, right? You’ve been enjoying hanging with us, so you might just walk out with us while we go around the block to where my truck is. Actually, if you want to talk any more, you’ll have to walk out with us because it’s really time for us to go.”

Then he says to his slave, “It’s time to go home now. You’re really excited to get back home, aren’t you? That cock of yours must really be raging. Aren’t you eager to find out what I’m going to do to you?”

“Yes!” the slave exclaims.

“Okay then, it’s time for you to go back into a trance now. We’re going to talk among ourselves, and I want you to be completely unaware of what I’m saying. You’re my happy mindless robot now. You’ll execute any command I give you, but otherwise your mind is going to sleep. The only thing you’ll be aware of is that constantly growing hunger in your cock and how it consumes your mind.”

The slave’s eyes go glassy again, like they were when I first saw him. The master leads us all out of the Eagle into the night air. It’s pretty late and the club is tucked away by an ally, so things outside are pretty quiet. Only a couple people stare at us—the master in his full-body skin-tight outfit and the slave with nothing but his boots and his jock. I almost feel out-of-place with my regular street clothes.

As we walk down the sidewalk the master continues, “So imagine you’re walking along here with us. In a minute we’re going to get to my truck. Inside the truck I’ve got a fair number of fun things. Among them are some mitts that are made to cover your fists and hold your hands into tight balls. If you were to keep walking with us to my truck and just stood there for a while, I might bring out my fist mitts.”

He turns into a small parking garage while he talks, and we follow along.

“You wouldn’t be forced to do anything, but if you voluntarily put your hands into these mitts and curled your fingers into fists, my slave and I would show you what it feels like to wear them—how strangely thrilling they feel as they hold your hands into tight balls.”

We approach a large black truck. One of those modern ones with the fingerprint sensors on the door handles. The master opens a door to the back seat and whispers something quietly to the slave’s ear. The slave gets into the back seat and rummages around.

I admit, he’s done a good job of building an exhilarating air of suspense. It’s been titillating going with him to his truck, while at the same time I feel like he’s trustworthy—a man of his word. Unsurprisingly, the slave emerges from the back seat with a pair of thick padded black gloves. Well, they almost look like gloves except that there aren’t any fingers on them and they’re shaped like small round balls, each with a little notched strap around the wrists. The master and slave each hold out one glove with the open end facing me, but they don’t do anything.

The master says, “As I said, you aren’t forced to do anything. We’re just presenting you the opportunity to see what they feel like. After you’ve tried them on, if you tell us to, we’ll take them off you, but after that we’ll have to leave you here because it’s about time for us to go.”

I guess there’s nothing wrong with see what these things feel like. I believe him when he says he would take them off afterwards if I asked. I trust him. So, I slip my fingers into them, curling my fingers into fists as my hands go in farther so they can be closed around the wrist. The master tells the slave to fasten the buckles. Then he says, “So there’s one more thing. And this is a promise.”

“The next item I have here is called a muzzle.” He holds up what looks like a series of leather straps and buckles attached at the center to a padded mouthpiece. He turns it upside down so I can see that the inside of the mouthpiece has a silicon gag protruding from it, shaped like the end of a penis.

“Doesn’t that look strangely enticing to you?” he asks, in the same calm, relaxed, serene voice that he has always spoken in. There’s something about his voice that I can’t place, but it makes me feel like I can trust him. “Now here’s where we come to what you’d call a 'fork in the road’. We’re not going to put this muzzle on you unless you want to try it. As I said, you’re perfectly safe. In a minute we have to leave, so we’ll have to take these fist mitts off of you and let you go on your way.

As he says this, the slave finishes buckling the second mitt into place. I test patting my padded fists together as they make a muffled thudding sound. The master then says, "Slave, undo his pants and show this nice man how deeply you can suck his cock.” The slave drops quietly to his knees, undoes my belt and starts lightly sucking my already stiff dick. The sensation is both wonderful and distracting. I rest my padded fists on his shoulders as I look up at the master, who is still holding that muzzle up, with its pecker-gag pointing up out of the mouthpiece.

“Now, as I said, it’s past time for my slave and me to leave. The only thing that would stop me from taking off those fists mitts right now and leaving would be if you put your mouth around the gag and sucked hard on it. If you did that, I would fasten these straps around your head. At any time, you could tell me to stop or even just grunt or shake your head and I would stop and remove it. Remember: I want you to feel safe. But if you didn’t… if you didn’t make any movement or sound, and if I pulled the last buckle into place and fastened these little locks, then things might go a little differently.

"If you tried on the muzzle and then climbed into the back seat of the truck, then I will tell you exactly what would happen: my slave and I would attach your mitts with these D-rings to the seatbelt buckles so you wouldn’t be able to get out. My slave would get into the back seat with you and would continue sucking your cock while we drove to our home—which would become your new home as well.

"I said there was a fork in the road, well that fork in the road happens at the moment that you climb into the back seat. If you did that voluntarily, then you would no longer be a free man. You would belong to me, and you would undergo training and conditioning to become a sex slave, just like this guy here. In fact, you two would spend a lot of time sharing the same cage.”

At this point, my head is sort of spinning as I stare at the gag.

The master goes on, “Okay, we’ve got to leave, so I’m going to have to take these mitts off.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I lower my head into the muzzle and suck on the gag, holding the mouthpiece into place.

The feeling of excitement is so amazing. My cock is so intensely stiff. I really want this experience to continue. He calls the slave up to help fasten the straps to my head, and they work quickly and efficiently. I know I’m still safe because I would have to first voluntarily climb into the back seat before anything really serious would happen.

My face is tightly covered by the muzzle, my mouth filled completely with the soft rubber gag. I try to grunt and discover that I really can’t make more than the softest purr. The master stops, hearing it and looks at me. “Do you want me to take it off? I’m going to take the muzzle off if you want. Slave, we need to free him quickly because we have to leave now. It’s past time we had to go.” I actually don’t want to take the muzzle off—not yet—but he’s about to abort the entire experience. I don’t want it to end yet!

I climb into the back seat and just like that I realize I just crossed that line from safely tantalizing flirtation to having just made a life-changing and irreversible choice.

The slave and master each take one of my fists and snap the mitts into some rings protruding from both sides of my seat. My arms are now held fast against my sides, my hands at my waist. The master closes the car door on my side, and the slave gets in on the other side.

It begins

The master goes over to the slave’s car door and, for a minute I can hear him whispering some instructions to the slave. He then closes the slave’s car door, gets into the driver’s seat and starts driving. The slave begins carrying out his instructions.

The slave finds a heavy padded blindfold and straps it over my eyes. Now I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel as he starts cutting the clothes off of my body with some sort of scissors or sheers. I keep very still so that I don’t get accidentally sliced open. After a couple minutes, all of my clothes have been removed.

The slave also wraps something that feels like rubber webbing around my ankles and calves, wrapping them tightly together until I’m completely immobilized. Finally, he resumes sucking my cock, showing just how deeply he can swallow it. Again, I try to moan but no sound emerges from the pecker gag that’s in my mouth.

The master starts talking. “So, you might be asking yourself if you really gave me your consent or if you just encountered someone really good at the 'power of suggestion’. To tell you the truth, there’s not that much of a difference. I showed you that there was a very narrow path—a very specific set of actions you would have to take to become a slave and you did all of them. It didn’t feel like hypnosis to you… you simply walked that narrow path that I laid out in front of you, right?

"If I had told you in the beginning that I might take you and turn you into a sex slave—one who would voluntarily give up all rights and all self-determination—you would have chuckled and walked away. But I saw that look in your eyes. Just as I saw that look in your fellow slave’s eyes over a month ago. I knew you would be receptive to my will. And here we are.

"So, I’m going to start conditioning you. To be honest, the conditioning and programming—it’s a very slow and gradual road—the conditioning and programming has already begun. I’m going to tell you some things, and you may not believe them, or you may not follow my instructions. That’s fine. That’s actually good. It’s how things are supposed to start out. Remember, I told you that this process is about getting you to resist so that I can break you, and then getting you to resist again so I can break your will even more.

"So, I’m going to tell you some things, and you won’t believe them right now, but that’s the way it’s supposed to begin.

"The first thing you need to know is that you cannot and must not ever try to masturbate. No matter how bad your cock is screaming for release, even if you tried to wrap your fingers around it, they simply wouldn’t obey the commands coming from your brain. By the way, this is one reason I’m starting you out in those fist mitts—because that way you’ll start out physically unable to pump your cock, and you’ll stay that way until I’m pretty sure your mind has wrapped itself around that first and most imperative command.

"The second thing is simple: I am your master and you are my slave. What I say is the truth, even if it seems to conflict with something you once thought. If I tell you that your hair was once blond then that’s the truth. If you thought you once remembered it being brown, those thoughts will eventually burn away and you’ll know you were always blond.”

The truck makes some turns and eventually it feels like we’re climbing some winding canyon road.

“When I’m not around, others may tell you what to do and you might find yourself doing what they say. Or you might find yourself doing the strangest things all of a sudden. You’ll learn not to worry about it. You see, I’m going to plant a lot of hypnotic suggestions and triggers deep in your brain Some people will know about these and will take advantage of them in order to control you and play with your mind. It’ll be disorienting at first, but eventually you’ll learn not to worry and to just go with whatever happens.”

The truck comes to a stop and the master gets out and opens the back door. He tells the slave—not me, but the other slave—to stop sucking my cock and to sit still for a moment. Then he says to me, “I’m going to let you hear this right now, but it’s not going to matter because within the next hour I’m going to expunge it all from your memory.”

He then says to the slave, “You are in the deepest trance now. What I tell you is going straight into the deepest part of your mind. You will always remember these instructions…”

I still can’t see anything since the slave had blindfolded me, but I imagine him sitting, looking at the master with that blank look on his face as he takes in new programming.

“First, this man who we’ve tied up and brought home is your fellow slave now. You will think of him as your brother, and I will refer to him as your brother. You two will often spend time together in the same cage.

"Today I will immediately begin his conditioning and programming. My initial task will be to turn him into a sex slave, but our goal is going be to take him much farther than that—to try to turn him into a sex pig and then ultimately a sex fiend. I will depend on you a lot to help us make this happen. In some ways you are graduating from a simple sex slave into my assistant. As you know, the conditioning we are going to do on your brother here will require long hours of continual edging and anal stimulation and that sort of thing. You know there are a lot of people who are going to help us with this task, but you and I will carry most of the burden.

"Now, whenever you see your brother here being conditioned, you will find yourself immensely excited. It will give you extreme pleasure any time you see him writhing, restrained, helpless. You will be fascinated, and that fascination will evolve into an obsession. At times when your brother is not around, you’ll think about him, see his face in your mind, fantasizing about him getting conditioned to be perpetually horny and surrendering all control to his cock. You will think of yourself as his cock’s secret ally, and you will scheme and figure out how to accelerate and intensify the process—to make him constantly horny, to release his inhibitions and make him purely a puppet to his own id.

"If you ever discover out what some of his hypnotic triggers are, you will 'leak’ them to other people who might be able to exploit them. When you find out what his fetishes are, you will make those fetishes your own—you’ll become whatever triggers him and makes him vulnerable.

"But here’s the thing: you’ll do all this in secret. This is what will make you the most excited about it all: he will think of you as his fellow slave—as his loyal brother in bondage—and he will grow to trust you and confide in you, and he won’t know your role in all this. You’ll be careful to make sure he doesn’t find out. If he does somehow learn something he shouldn’t, you’ll let me know so that we can reprogram his memories until he is unaware again.

"Now I want to you think back to half an hour ago, when you were tying him up here in the backseat, when you were wrapping his legs together like this, when you put the blindfold on him. You are going to remember having felt this huge sensation of excitement. It’s the first time you ever felt it, but you know you want to feel that sensation again. It all starts here. You will watch over your brother. You find yourself very attracted to him. You loved seeing his cock hard, and you look forward to the two of you being curled up together in your cage, gently caressing his cock while he sleeps. You’ll try to figure out how to innocently orchestrate situations where he gets restrained, blindfolded or muzzled or hooded. For example, you may find yourself feeling bold enough to ask us for some drugs that you might be able to slip into his drinking water, or squirt into his ass lube or otherwise get into his system so that you can plan some scenario where he’s helpless and vulnerable.”

I hear the master walk around to my side of the car and open the car door. There’s some shuffling and then I suddenly feel a pin-prick in the inside crook of my arm. The master removes my blindfold, and I see my fellow slave sitting next to me, staring at me with his intense eyes, drinking in the aspect of my face. I look down at my elbow at the syringe as it pumps a dark liquid into my veins. He says, "Now the programming really begins!”

1 note · View note

dragonologist-in-the-making · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.

A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.

Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.

Wordcount: 4k (wow)

...

Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.

Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.

As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.

Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.

“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.

“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.

“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.

As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.

…

Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.

Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.

“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.

“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”

James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.

Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.

“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”

Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.

“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”

“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”

“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”

“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.

“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”

Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.

True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

. . .

True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.

After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.

Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.

“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”

“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.

“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.

“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.

“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”

“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.

Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.

“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.

“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.

It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.

…

Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.

Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.

She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.

“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”

“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.

“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.

“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”

At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.

…

James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.

It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.

“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.

She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.

“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.

“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.

Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.

Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”

Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.

“You taste like chocolate.”

“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.

…

James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.

Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.

“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.

“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Stop being so cheesy.”

“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”

“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.

“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.

“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.

“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.

“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”

“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.

“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.

(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.

Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.

Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.

When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #james potter #james #potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #prongs #prongs x reader #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter x you

584 notes · View notes

usersitcom · 2 years

Note

hi i absolutely love your header! do you mind giving a tutorial on how you made it?

yeah ofc!

I did not save the final psd for that gif so this turned out a bit different than the actual header but the process—which assumes some photoshop familiarity, but includes lots of examples—is the same and gets us really close

if anything feels skipped, confusing, or glossed over, pls feel free to ask questions 😊

FOREGROUND — alright so we’ve got a shot of lexi from saved by the bell

— before cropping, convert to smart object at its full size so it’ll retain its quality in case there’s any need to resize later

— then just crop to mobile header dimensions: 640 x 360. and adjust the shot until it fills that space the way you’d like

— there are a few ways to mask but for a still frame esp, I think the easiest is object selection (W) because you get pretty clean edges. I find rectangle mode misses too much, so set it to lasso mode on ‘add to selection’

I missed the entire desk but bc of add to selection, I can just loop around and add it without losing what’s already selected

you’ll notice you truly do not need a steady hand for this, just get close and the tool will do the heavy lifting

— add a layer mask

— then just brush over the missed parts (like the edge of the desk) and erase the extra (like where it caught some of the bookshelf by her shoes)

— so that’s pretty clean except there’s a noticeable stroke around the layer (much more obvious against a background). if there’s a way to avoid this idk what it is! but it's simple enough to get rid of with the brush. in this case I used 10px at 60% hardness + 100% smoothing

— so now you can make any adjustments on coloring and sharpening. running through it really quickly, I got this

— and that looks fine so the foreground is done!

BACKGROUND — for the background, just add a gradient layer

OVERLAY — the overlay is from this pack: https://www.deviantart.com/scottvandyne/art/GIF-OVERLAYS-PACK-by-scottvandyne-796712849

like i mentioned, I do not have a psd for our header but the first overlay in the pack works the same as any of the others, so I’ll be using 'falling sparkles' for this tutorial. but there are like 43 options. lots to have fun with

anyway

— create video timeline if you haven’t already

— open the overlay psd of your choosing. drag (or copy then paste) it into the header file above the gradient

— this overlay is only 500 x 281. you can duplicate it to cover the extra space but it’s honestly not that much smaller so I just resized it

— blending will get rid of the black background and just leave the sparkles

if you want dark or colorful sparkles you could invert and/or use the other modes (really good video on the topic btw: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1D9ijh3_-I), but we’re gonna keep white sparkles over the gradient, so we only want the lightening modes

literally any one of them work fine, it’s just a matter of preference. I am always a sucker for linear dodge (add) which gives us this:

BORDER

— you could do what I’m entirely sure I originally did and pull a vector off pixabay if not google tbh and then clip layers to it and use masks and do too much

however pen tool is quicker + less messy

— use the curvature pen tool. as you leave anchor points, it will curve the line for you. it doesn’t matter what color you use (esp since you can alter it later) but stroke will determine how thick the upper line is

tweak the anchor points to clean up curves

— copy the line shape layer, then paste in place (ctrl + shift + v)

— raise one line higher, leaving a gap between them at whatever thickness you like

— rasterize the lower line, use the magic wand to select both the line and the empty space below it

then brush over everything

— when you brush over the selection, you lose smoothness. there’s a trick to smoothing it out but honestly just copy the upper line (which should still be a shape layer), paste in place, and lower until it rests just above the rasterized layer. same effect, no brainpower

just to show the difference:

— and that’s it! just save as a gif and you’re good to go!

ok sike. actually the overlay is a good 200ish frames so whether you export from timeline or flatten to clips/convert to frames, remember to shorten the work area first

— ok that’s it for real this time!

vs. the original. not too far off!

#asks #gif tutorial #mobile header #overlays #by camille #.mimsi

61 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 3 years

Text

Yes, he's in the hospital and doesn't remember anything about himself, but it's actually not that bad. His memories are sure to come back in a matter of days, and until then, he can spend time eating, sleeping, reading, daydreaming about that ridiculously attractive Healer...

(The aim is Funny and Fluffy Wolfstar)

It's Like the First Time

“Everything seems to be in order,” the Healer Trainee, Aubrey, says. “As we expected. How’s the dizziness?”

“When I’m laying down, it doesn’t bother me,” he replies.

“That’s good,” Aubrey smiles. “The dizziness and light-headedness should gradually disappear over the upcoming days, and then the memories will come back after.”

He nods. He’d be more worried about all his memories being gone if the Healers at St Mungo’s weren’t so certain they’ll all come back in a matter of days. Dizziness, light-headedness, and amnesia; it’s a familiar picture when being hit with a Confundo-charm from a defective wand, which the Healers have encountered many times before and has apparently happened to him during some friendly duelling.

It’s always the same picture: the dizziness and light-headedness slowly lessening, and the memories all coming back at once after two to at most five days. Like, one moment you know nothing, and the next you remember everything.

Well, he doesn’t exactly know nothing. His semantic memory is intact, meaning he has basic knowledge and remembers facts and skills. He knows he’s a wizard, he knows the hospital is called St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he knows the people in the lime green robes are the Healers, he knows that since he’s a wizard he probably went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he knows perfectly well how to perform a wide variety of charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. (So luckily those years at Hogwarts weren’t for nothing)

What he doesn’t know is anything about himself. His episodic memory, memory for any kind of life events, is completely gone. Who he is, what he does, what he has done, who he knows, it’s all gone. His own mum could walk into the room, and he’d think she was the laundry lady. (Luckily, she seemed like a very nice lady, and had thought it rather funny)

The only thing he knows about himself, not because he remembers, but because it’s the only thing they told him, is that he’s someone named Remus Lupin. Apparently, in the past, trying to fill in the gaps has proven to be more frustrated than helpful for the patient and, as the memories will come back on their own anyway, quite unnecessary. Therefore, they don’t tell him much else, and all he can do is wait.

Past experience has also shown that the patient often finds it quite stressful, and even frightening, to be surrounded by lots of people who all know him, and whom he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. Therefore, friends and family are only allowed in limited numbers, one new person a day, which started with his mum.

His mum had brought him his favourite novel, saying that he read it so many times, and would always wish he could erase it from his memory just so he could read it again with the same sense of anticipation. Well, she had figured this was his chance. Now, all he can do is lie in bed, read his book, and eat food, which is... Well, pretty great actually.

He doesn’t have anything to worry about. How can he worry about anything if he doesn’t remember anything? It’s like having a little break from life and all its expectations and responsibilities. (Though the fact that he’s so happy about having no worries, makes him think that this Remus Lupin normally worries quite a lot)

When a Healer comes to see him, he suddenly knows something else about himself: he’s very, very gay.

The Healer has a classic, aristocratic beauty to him, with his sharp cheekbones and full lips, and his eyes are of a clear grey, that appears silver, which contrasts quite nicely with the strands of raven black hair that have fallen from the messy bun on top of his head. And no one has the right to look that good in lime green robes, which he fills out pretty well with his lean, muscular body.

The Healer gives him a soft smile, and really, if he smiles at all his patients like that, the whole hospital must be diagnosed with palpitations. “How’re you feeling?” the Healer asks in a warm, deep voice.

He wonders whether his semantic memory has failed him after all, as he suddenly seems to have forgotten how speaking works. “Erm...” he says, very eloquently.

The Healer frowns, and looks at Aubrey. “Isn’t the confusion supposed to be gone by now?”

Aubrey looks from the Healer to him and back to the Healer, while a knowing smile appears on her face. “Don’t worry,” she tells the Healer. “He has been perfectly responsive and coherent all day.”

“Has he had some Anti-Confusion Concoction?”

“He’s had a small dose, as the confusion was already wearing off on his own.”

“Are you going to give him Memory Potion?” the Healer continues his questioning.

Aubrey shakes her head. “We have already given him Mandrake Restorative Draught against the spell’s physical effects. Adding Memory Potion might make the dose of Stewed Mandrake too high. As we can be certain all memories will come back on their own, it isn’t worth the risk.”

The Healer nods thoughtfully. “So only a daily dose of Restoration Potion until all effects have subsided, I assume?”

“Yes,” Aubrey agrees. “Based on past experience, that’ll in all likeliness be sufficient.”

The Healer turns his head back to him, and that soft smile is back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, a bright flash can be seen, and a gazelle made out of shining white light is standing in front of them.

“I’m so sorry to disturb on a moment like this,” a stressed-sounding voice of a young woman comes from the Patronus, that is directing itself to the Healer. “But you’re needed back at the HADA department immediately! We’re having an emergency.”

The Healer curses under his breath. He takes a step towards the door, but then stops to look back at him with a pained expression.

“He’s in good hands,” Aubrey says.

The Healer nods. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells him, before hurrying out the door.

Though his mum was right, and the novel is really good, he has trouble focusing on it from that moment on. He’s constantly interrupted by thoughts of bright, silver-grey eyes. Merlin, he’s seen the guy once, and he’s acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush!

Telling himself off for it doesn’t stop him from looking up hopefully the moment he catches a glimpse of lime-green robes. It’s quite a disappointment when the Healer that walks in to check his vitals is a greying, grumpy man with a face that seems to be twisted in a permanent scowl. Asking him where the good-looking Healer went to seems kind of impolite though, so he just sits and nods whenever the Healer grumbles something unintelligible.

“So, why have I gotten a different Healer?” he asks Aubrey later, trying to sound casual.

“Different Healer?” she asks, not understanding.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling to his great annoyance that his cheeks begin to flush. “There was this older man checking up on me, while before, there was the young man with the broad shoulder, shining dark hair, sweet smile, pretty eyes...” He trails off.

“Oh!” Understanding, and a not insignificant amount of amusement, appear on Aubrey’s face. “Oh, he wasn’t not your Healer, sweetie! He was visiting.”

“Ah,” he sighs disappointedly. So the Healer had only been here for some sort of second opinion, and he probably won’t be back. It was too good to be true, to have a Healer like that around as a nice distraction.

“Healer Black works for the Healing Against the Dark Arts Department,” Aubrey continues.

“You know him?” he asks.

“I know of him. But honestly,” she adds with a wink. “Everyone working at St Mungo’s knows of Healer Black!”

He chuckles. “I suppose he cannot not catch your eye.”

“It’s not just his appearance,” Aubrey says. “Healer Black is the leading expert on healing Dark Arts-related injuries and combating curses from the Dark Arts. He has invented novel Healing Spells and revolutionized the protocol for treating curses. Healers from all over the world consult him on their cases, and patients come to see him from all over the world.”

“Wow...” he sighs again, but this time it’s a more wistful sigh. He doesn’t even care anymore that he sounds like a love-struck teenager. Maybe Aubrey will write it off as a side-effect of the Confundo-charm. He briefly wonders about that himself, but as those bright, silver-grey eyes come to mind again, he knows he’s under a whole different kind of spell.

“Yeah,” Aubrey smiles. “He’s quite a remarkable man.”

“So I guess I won’t be seeing him again then,” he says dejectedly, letting his head hang. He wonders why they’d sent that Healer to come see him in the first place, as he surely must’ve had better things to do.

He hears a choked noise besides him, and he looks up at Aubrey, who seems to be stifling a laugh, with her hand pressed against her mouth. “Don’t worry, love,” she says with obvious amusement in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him.”

The young man sitting next to his bed has been talking about his wife and their baby for an hour straight. Though it really isn’t so bad. His stories are quite amusing, and the man is very charismatic. He has sparkling eyes, and hair so messy, he had immediately checked whether it wasn’t storming outside when the man had entered. He has a disarming smile and a contagious laugh, and is surprisingly easy to talk to. He says his name is James Potter, and he’s Remus Lupin’s best friend.

He has to give Remus Lupin a pat on the back for having made such a nice friend. Honestly, the idea of socializing with new people, trying to make friends, does not appeal to him, and he’s glad to know Remus already has them.

“And I just went to see Sirius,” James says. “Well, more like I was speed walking next to him in the two minutes he had to get from one room to another. He still managed to apologize twenty times though. Normally, I’d say he should be sorry, but the poor guy seems to hardly have any time to eat or sleep.” James shakes his head. “Did you hear what happened? Three children were playing in the woods, and they must’ve accidentally touched an unknown cursed object. They were brought in barely conscious and with a mother completely beside herself. So of course, ‘the widely renowned and highly acclaimed, capable-of-the-impossible Healer Black’ was the only one who might save them. And he has, as they seem to be recovering,” James adds, relieved. “But really, there aren’t many excuses that would justify him not being here, but having to save children’s lives is definitely one of them.”

“Thank Merlin those children are alright. That sounds- Wait,” he says, before sitting up. “Healer Black? You know Healer Black?”

James blinks at him. “Ehm... Yeah?”

“Merlin, that man is so handsome!” he exclaims. “He was here for like two minutes, before he got called away to other patients, but I just can’t stop thinking about him! He already looks perfect, and now you’re telling me that he’s some kind of miracle Healer saving children’s lives?” He sighs. “It’s just not fair.”

At first, James still looks confused. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and his mouth starts twitching like he’s trying to hold back laughter.

He doesn’t blame him. He’d laugh at himself too, with how ridiculous he’s been acting over this random Healer. He just hopes he won’t have embarrassed Remus Lupin too much once his memories have returned.

“Don’t worry,” James says, in an amused voice. “Healer Black will come back as soon as he has the time.”

Now, his own eyes widen. “You really think he’d come to see me again?”

James lets out a strangled noise and starts coughing, which he strongly suspects being a laugh quickly covered up by a cough. “Yes,” James replies, suppressed laughter still sounding through in his voice. “I really think so.”

He knows it’s rather pathetic, but as he’s got nothing better to do, he did it anyway. He practiced what he’s going to say to Healer Black when, or if, he comes back.

He’ll tilt his head slightly downwards, so he’ll look up at the man through his lashes, and then he’ll give him a coy smile, while softly saying ‘Healer Black. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve heard many great things about you, and what you did for those children is truly admirable.’ Luckily, flirting seems to fall under semantic memory.

However, when the moment comes that Healer Black enters the room again, his carefully constructed plan falls apart.

At first, he’s stunned that yes, Healer Black really looks like that, and he hasn’t made it better in his head. Alright, the man has bags under his eyes, his robes are rumpled, and his hair is slightly greasy and so much strands are peaking out of his bun, making it look more messy than what would qualify as a normal messy bun, but he still looks like the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t even notice Aubrey and James walk in after Healer Black.

He opens his mouth to deliver his carefully practiced lines, but the words die in his throat as Healer Black... Well, flings himself at him. He literally splays out on top of him, hugging him close and pressing his face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you so much,” Healer Black murmurs against his skin.

He freezes. Yes, he has forgotten quite a lot, but he’s still pretty sure this is not the standard operating procedure for Healers to greet their patients. “Erm...” He says, once again ever so eloquently.

Healer Black lifts his head and looks up at him in confusion, but he can’t possibly be more confused than he’s feeling.

James scrapes his throat. “Remus, may I introduce you to Healer Sirius Black-Lupin, your husband?”

“So neither one of you decided to tell him?” Healer Black has crossed his arms over his chest and is glaring at Audrey and James.

“I’m sorry, Healer Black!” Aubrey squeaks. “I know I should’ve told him, but it was just too cute, watch him be all smitten with his own husband.”

He isn’t really listening. He’s openly staring at Healer Black. Apparently, he bloody married the guy, so it’s allowed, right?

“I don’t know how you pulled this off, Remus Lupin,” he whispers under his breath. “But thank you, and kudos to you, mate, kudos to you.”

As he looks at Healer Black up and down (at some point he’ll really have to stop referring to his husband as Healer Black, probably), he suddenly really wishes for his memories to come back fast, as there are some things he’d really like to remember.

Though on the other hand, he thinks, biting his lip, maybe ‘Healer Black’ won’t mind freshening up his memory in the meantime?

“Ugh,” Remus groans, hiding his face against Sirius’ chest. “I can’t believe I was practically drooling over you!”

Sirius chuckles while he’s rubbing soft circles on Remus’ back. “You were cute.”

As a reply, Remus just groans again.

“I’m sorry, though,” Sirius says, suddenly quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been by your side as I was supposed to be.”

Remus lifts up his head to look at Sirius. “Hey, none of that! You were saving lives.” He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to be anywhere else.”

Sirius smiles softly at him, and Remus lays his head back on his chest. “Besides, it was a good reminder that I should be more proud of my accomplishment to get Healer Black to marry me.”

Sirius barks a laugh, that Remus can feel vibrating in his chest. “And how exactly was me down on one knee practically begging you to become my husband ‘you getting me to marry you’?”

Remus smiles fondly, happy that that memory is safely back in his head. “And it was nice to feel like having a new crush again,” he continues. “ All exhilarated, enraptured, and in awe.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Remus’ head. “I feel like that every time I look at you.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #healer sirius black #wolfstar meet-cute #but not really

385 notes · View notes