#and I don’t want to use black paint because it makes everything too dull but also it would add contrast and I’m tired | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thedustyleaves · 5 months

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Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but I really love how your illustrations have such a cohesive color palette, how do you pick your colors to have a certain theme without looking monochromatic?

(In your breakdown on the saloon/western BP illustration, you mentioned that the overall color was reddish brown so you added blue to the main group to set them apart. But like how did you decide on which reddish brown colors to use for the flats?)

Thank you!! Your art is really expressive and the colors always work so well in the illustration. I’m always in awe of your pics

That’s an excellent question! My drawings actually start out pretty monochromatic because I tend to put most of my effort into the lighting and shading part to help differentiate where I want people to look.

For all of my pieces, I want my characters to be in focus. So no matter what, I always have to keep their main colors in mind and make sure their outfits and the background don’t clash with them (Kain’s red hair tends to be a problem, pft).

For my flats, I generally work with two main colors that tend to contrast each other and then I mix a lot of neutrals around them. (Sometimes the main colors are in the light and shading itself, but I’ll just focus on the flats!).

Sometimes, I will change the hue of their colors. So while Kain has bright orange hair, I will dull it down if it overwhelms the piece or doesn’t fit with the tone - like I did for the cowboy drawing - but never so much that it no longer looks like him.

With the cowboy drawing as an example, if I strip it down to my flats, it instantly becomes very dull and monochromatic. I really enjoy working with these colors because they’re easy on the eyes (or my eyes specifically) and I can see the difference in subtle hues a lot better than if they were very high in contrast. I like working with subtleties when I want background characters to become a single unit but still be separated as individual people.

When I picked the colors for the background, I wanted to separate the characters from the walls. Therefore, I kept the walls red and gold, and the characters brown - they’re still within the same warm-colored family, but they’re far enough away from each other that they don’t become one with each other. I also like to not have clothes from different characters blend together, so overlapping colours can't be the same. I made one coat lighter than the other, the glove warmer than the dark jacket, and so on.

(their coats are also in the same realm as the green/gold colour of the details for the curtains and the frames on the walls)

For the paintings I actually chose to put a bit of blue and green in to help create some interest for the main characters and keep your eyes around that area, as it matches the blue they’re wearing, just a whole lot darker. It also makes them pop just enough so they look interesting against the wall, but not enough to overshadow the main characters

I know, because of the way I work with layers, that when I add my overlays, I automatically brighten and saturate the colors a lot. It’s a lot easier for me to saturate something “dull” and move it into all kinds of hues than saturating something already high in contrast and then trying to force it into a new color theme.

But because of this, I usually have to go back and change the colors I work with constantly while the overlays are on. Since the overlays don’t know what sort of materials they’re laying on top of, everything gets lighter and washed out, so dark skin tones, hair, and clothes have to be corrected one by one afterward. If I were to remove the overlays after I corrected it to make it feel like a dark blue outfit on Raki, it’s basically just a black void now; but with the overlay, it’s a dark blue outfit. Before that, he simple blended in with the background too much and he didn’t feel like he was a part of the group either.

I always try to put down colors how I imagine they’re going to look like, unaffected by light, but I’m also naturally drawn toward more earthy and warm tones, so all of my color choices will tend to lean that way.

Here’s another example of main colours vs. neutrals; the main colours are red and green/turquoise, with dark browns and greys to encapsulate them, and gold for accents or to make certain things pop (the chair, Dakon’s dark coat, etc.).

I never want them all to wear the exact same color, but I want them to feel connected and be in the same 'colour family,' so Dakon and Kain have nearly the same dark red/brown, and Christie and Raki have nearly the same 'bright'/red.

The blacks and browns, I’ve kept warm as well, so they stay within that realm of red. I also make sure that none of them are too close to Kain’s hair since he’s in the middle of the piece, and I want your eyes to be drawn toward the middle, and his orange hair helps with that.

The paintings I basically do not care too much about, as long as each individual painting has a single dominating colour. I mute them down with a darker overlay and ensure they don’t have strong shadows and light, so they get pushed to the background, so despite being a bunch of different colours, each painting feels like a solid color and they’re still cast in the same light as the rest of the piece, so they feel like they belong in the same room.

I try to help move the eye around the piece as well, so I keep the big painting sort of in the same realm of red and brown as the main characters, because it’s so big it shouldn’t dominate with a new color and force interest toward it. The blue/purple ones melt in with the background as they’re close to the turquoise background, but without disappearing, the yellow ones work sort of like the gold accents and blend in with the frames, and the green paintings at the top give the illusion of a monochrome fade, so everything gets more eerie and green as the image goes up - there’s also a subtle green fade that affects the gold accents from the top down, to enhance that effect.

This is just a few examples, if there are any pieces in particular you were thinking of, and it’s neither of these, just let me know, and I can break those down as well!

Thank you for the question; I hope I answered it somewhat, and thank you for the kind words! <3

#asks #tutorial

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1-800-cr33py · 3 months

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WRITE A STORY WITH ERIC DRAVEN PLSSSSSSS

Of course, though I am going through a bit of writer’s and artist’s block, so i deeply apologize for the quality.

A/N: Angst w/comfort, reader is depressive, something quick might expand on this later though. Eric is…eric.

Hands a bit too cold to be considered normal traced the plain of your stomach, the skin warm beneath his calloused palm. Eric was many things, a murderer, spiteful, any name under the sun one could think of, but in the current moment he was envious. Envious of you, sleeping beneath the many blankets of his bed, practically a nest for the both of you now. He was envious of your warmth, your liveliness, your mortality. There may have been a time when he’d daydream of what his life could have been like in his older years, hair graying and fading and worn band tee shirts. But those days would never catch up to him, but you still remained. Fuck if you didn’t stay glued to his side. He remembers seeing you after he was brought back, the black tears staining your cheeks as you tried to look through him, trying to rationalize the sight before you.

You sat upon the brick wall of what was once a shared apartment, bottles and cans thrown haphazardly around the creaking floors. You, a husk of the person you used to be, in the middle of the mess, eyeliner running down your cheeks and eyes hollow, eyes once so full of life and contentment, now dull, sharp even. If his heart could, it would break at the sight of you. He stalked you from his shadows, not yet ready to face you. Oh how he longed to hold you, to remind you he’d take care of you like he promised so long ago, to simply feel your skin against his would be enough. But Eric remained still, continuing to watch you gulp down more cheap vodka like it was water. Erin grimaced, he didn’t like the sight before him. He saw himself lingering within your behavior, saw his influences in your mannerisms. You, none the wiser to his position before you, didn’t even jump when his footfalls fell upon your ears. Maybe you were to drunk, or maybe it’s because you were to far gone to care.

“ Look dickhead, I don’t know what the fuck it is you want but I-“ your cold remark was cut short, far to short with a familiar laugh, a laugh you hadn’t heard in over a year, actually thats a lie. It was the same laugh that had been haunting your nightmares for so, so fucking long.

“ Such harsh words from such a pretty girl, you kiss your mother with that mouth pretty? “ Eric drawled, nearing you. You, bottle just an inch from your agape mouth. There he was, face painted a sickly white and black smeared haphazardly across his eyes and lips. It was like time stopped, only the two of you existing at once. Eyes welling with tears, you stayed silent. What could you do? You were there when they put him into the cold hard ground, there to pick up Sarah when her mother couldn’t give less than a fuck about her. You. Eric, now squatting before you, searched your face, for any sign of emotion, emotion he didn’t find. You wanted to scream, to hit yourself and down the rest of the bottle, telling yourself you were dreaming, but you couldn’t. His cologne had long since faded from everything that was left behind, but here now you could taste it. Mouth gaping akin to that of a fish out of water, the bottle fell, clattering onto the floor as your hand reached to his face. Just a touch. Just something to tell yourself this was real, that he was real. With a trembling finger, you pushed the wet stray hairs from his painted face, moving to trace his jaw. He was real this time, a tangible thing before you blessing your teary eyes with a pained smile.

That was a long while ago, he’d yet to find a real reason to pass on yet, though the Crow had quit trying to urge him now. The night was young, though the city lights didn’t make it seem that way, still, you napped, curled underneath the blankets. Eric let out an audible sign, cold fingers mindlessly tracing shapes onto your skin. He’d give anything, anything at all, just to fully feel the true extent of your warmth again, the warmth he felt when he was alive, not just a walking corpse. Eric longed to be the softer man he once was for you, but he knew as well as you did, that man was gone. But for now, he’d be content with this, relearning and healing alongside you.

#1800cr33py #reqs open #requests are open #eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 1994 #the crow x reader #brandon lee

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purplebass · 1 year

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Late Night, Early Morning - Lucie and Jesse

Today's fanfic is about my dear blackdale, set post Chain of Thorns. I wouldn't say it's spoilery, but be careful if you haven't read the book, maybe. This fanfic is a belated VDay gift for @emmcarstairs, my fellow blackdale fangirl enthusiast 💜 Read on A03 <3

Lucie was happy when Jesse had enlisted for patrol after he became of age, a few months after he had officially started training as a shadowhunter. She was grateful for the recognition he was given, and he deserved everything and more, but she couldn’t hide her preoccupation either. The first night he had to go out for duty, she stopped him before he could cross the threshold of the London Institute to wish him good luck, but to also voice additional thoughts about this new experience. She couldn’t help herself, even if she knew she sounded anxious.

“It’s just patrol, Lucie,” he told her. “I’m used to roaming at night, after all.”

“It’s not the same,” she interjected. “You’re not a ghost anymore.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow, understanding where she was coming from. “Thankfully, no,” he replied with a grin. “But this doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself, Lucie.”

“He’s right, Lucie,” her father appeared from nowhere, wearing gear as well. “I spoke to James before he left, and he assured me that our boy Jesse is fit for patrol,” he patted his shoulder affectionately, and Jesse nodded in agreement. “And for fighting, if needed. Plus, I offered myself to go with him, you should rest assured.”

Lucie bit her lip and shrugged, a little more at ease after knowing Will would be looking after Jesse. “Be careful,” she told them. Jesse kissed the top of her head before going, and she watched them disappear into the cold of the night before she returned to her own room to drown herself into her writing.

Lucie had turned eighteen a few weeks prior, which meant that she could finally go on patrol like any respected shadowhunter and spend her nights out with Jesse, without the looming stares of her parents. Not that she hadn’t had her fair share of night outings ever since she was little, but this was different. Tonight, it would be the first of a long series of official patrols, which was nothing short of exciting for Lucie, because it meant going on an adventure. There weren’t many demons around lately, and nothing really happened for them to worry too much, but still. There was something mysterious about roaming the streets of London at night, with the boy she loved by her side, knowing that they could be together after the sun would rise.

“What’s so funny?” Jesse asked as they turned a corner on Fleet Street. It was strange to see this road so deserted. “You haven’t stopped giggling.”

Lucie kept grinning and squeezed his hand. Holding hands with Jesse was one of the things she liked the most when they were out. It was like making a statement – we’re in love. We care for each other. We are going to get married someday. “I’m not giggling,” she corrected him. “I’m just excited. This is my first patrol, the first of a long standing series of patrols, and I’m just –” she inhaled the night air of London, “content and excited, but also a little bored.”

He frowned at her, used to her antics. “There’s nothing exciting about tonight, though,” he squeezed her hand back, “unless you count the smell of rotten food and liquor coming from that mundane place,” he pointed at the pub with his black head.

“Don’t kill my vibe,” she warned with a frown and a smile, and he just smiled back at her. She had to admit he was right. That night was as dull as soup without salt, and Lucie’s excitement was dying down as the clock ticked by. “Should we sit for a minute?” she proposed when they reached a square with benches painted in white. Even the benches were dull.

“Do you want to rest, Lucie?” Jesse wondered, and she dragged him to a bench without waiting for an answer. He frowned at her when she forced him to sit down, a confused expression on his face. “Wh–?”

Lucie only smiled, and covered Jesse’s mouth with a finger to keep him silent. She placed herself between his legs, and sat on his lap, her arms crossed behind his neck. “I’m not tired,” she muttered, “but I still wanted to sit. And the bench is utterly cold, while your legs –”

He shut her up with a kiss. Lucie opened her mouth to him, accepting the kiss gladly, responding with the same fervor. He wrapped his hands around her, so that she wouldn’t fall, and she could feel how his body reacted to her too. She would never get tired of kissing Jesse. Solid Jesse whose heartbeat was thunderous as lightning and with lips sweet as honey.

“This is one of the best things about being alive,” Jesse spoke gently, looking into Lucie’s eyes and dropping his gaze to her lips. “Spending time with you, knowing that our time is not limited.”

She grinned, her eyes full of adoration for him. “Kissing under the moonlight, saying I love you, eating together, going on patrol together…”

“Yes, that too, you’re right,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m very fond of the romantic part, but I do love the domestic part as well. And the shadowhunter part too.”

“Speaking of the shadowhunter part,” she inquired, her head tilted, “is someone going to complain if we sit here for a while and just – cuddle?”

Jesse smirked. “I don’t think anybody will complain, no,” he kissed her lips again, “about some innocent kissing between two shadowhunters who are very much in love with each other.”

She giggled against his lips, before indulging with more kissing and more cuddling. They spent at least an hour on the park bench, kissing each other, until the cold descended even more on the city and their bones turned to ice. “I think we should go,” Jesse told her. “I’m afraid I can’t feel my backside anymore.”

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“Your feet aren’t even on the ground, Lucie,” he frowned, gazing at her legs casually slumped on the other side of the bench.

“Oh, what a tease you are! I’m hardly heavy,” she said with fake scorn, and stood up to fix her gear. “My hair is ruined,” she noticed, “because of your hands.”

“We’re even, then,” he answered with a wink, standing from the bench, towering over her. He offered her a playful smile, and started to walk away.

“Wait,” she hurried after him, interlocking her arm in his and taking his hand. He glanced at her and they exchanged a loving smile, ready to do the remaining rounds of night patrol.

Dawn had broken when they returned to the London Institute. They were starving. She told him that next time, they should ask Bridget to make a basket with snacks, but Jesse had pointed out how that would be impractical. They needed to be on the lookout for eventual demon activity, they couldn’t take a basket along to slow them down. “We could put weapons in the basket, too,” Lucie had tried to propose, but Jesse had shot down her idea. She wasn’t really serious, anyway. She mostly liked to tease him. He had simply shook his head with a grin.

Bridget had already laid out the table in the dining room when they returned, and they had settled down to eat scrambled eggs and oatmeal, a little milk, and fruit. “Breakfast of champions,” Lucie had commented. She didn’t like oatmeal that much, but she was so hungry, she could eat Jesse too. No one had showed up at breakfast while they ate, not even her father, who was usually up by that time – it was six in the morning. She was glad that she could spend more time with Jesse. Not that they weren’t together at the Institute. They were often around each other when they didn’t have other pressing matters to do – like Jesse helping her father with stuff regarding their home, or when he discussed books with her mother in the drawing room. Jesse loved doing ordinary things, and Lucie couldn’t blame him.

“I guess it’s a goodnight?” Lucie said when they reached her room. “Or good morning, for that matter. Do you have to do something later, with papa?” she asked, hopeful.

“Your parents went to Paris, Lucie,” he told her, and she frowned. They had told her, but she had forgotten. Jesse nodded in acknowledgment. “They told me they would leave during the night so that they could do what they needed first thing in the morning.”

“I thought they were already asleep,” she said with a shrug. “I completely forgot.” Then something dawned on her. They were by themselves. Well, if they didn’t count Bridget. “Jesse.” Her voice barely a murmur, an invitation. “I’m tired, but,” she stared into his green eyes, “I want you to stay with me.”

She could see the indecision in his eyes. She knew that he wanted to stay with her too, all alone, just pressing their bodies closer to each other, just spooning. Give each other strength, and affection, or simply a shoulder to rest on. But her parents had been clear. They couldn’t stay in each other’s bedrooms with the door closed, before they were married. Lucie thought that it was absurd. She knew that Jesse wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do. He respected her. And she knew that once she would sell her first novel – which was almost a done deal – they would get engaged and get married. They were, in a way, already engaged. She considered the Blackthorn locket a pledge of love. Yet… somehow, she knew her parents didn’t want her to get hurt, and even if they trusted Jesse and got to know him better these past few months, he was still a boy. A boy who was very much in love with their only daughter.

“I also want to spend more time with you,” he voiced calmly, leveling his gaze to hers. “But you know we can’t.”

She nodded, and took his hand in hers. “I know you’re loyal, Jesse,” she said, walking away towards the other side of the corridor. “I didn’t mean in my room, but the drawing room. The sofa in front of the fire is –”

Jesse kissed her again, cradling her head between his hands. He could taste the faint scent of lemon and sugar on his lips. She rose on her tiptoes to have better access to his mouth, until she was out of breath. “I really, really, want you, Lucie,” his hands lay gently on the side of her cheeks, “and I want to show you how much I love you in all of the ways I can,” his voice full of desire. “But you deserve better than a locked bedroom while your parents are away.”

Lucie didn’t agree on that point, but she thought it was sweet of him anyway. “Bother,” she shrugged, but kissed him again. “But this is why I love you, Jesse Blackthorn.”

He smiled tenderly, and took her hands in his. “Come on, let’s get to the wonderful sofa you were talking about. Your hands need warmth, and so do I,” he winked, and that was enough to make Lucie melt, and enjoy Jesse’s physical presence beside her, which was already a miracle she was everyday grateful for.

#tsc #tlh #tsc fanfiction #lucie herondale #jesse blackthorn #blackdale #lucie and jesse #ghostwriter #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #the last hours #tweety.writes

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rotworld · 2 years

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29: Scavenger

as war rages between ophidran and lanternwood, death closes in on you, but you may find safety in an unexpected place.

->explicit. contains noncon, gore, graphic description of corpses, war crimes, hard vore, predatory/prey, terato.

Everything is red.

Your hands, slick and shining, and the flickering glow against the smoke-filled sky, and the bodies, piles of them, flesh peeled like rind, insides glistening, nothing but red. The bloodmist of the Zephyros Borderlands minces light, turns it scarlet. Evening scrapes the forest a new, rawer hue so everything, rock and bark and dirt, becomes flayed and blistered. You half-tumble down a steep hill, bones and twigs snapping underfoot. Pushing yourself upright sinks your palms into muddy soil, and you can’t be sure what sort of grimy wetness sticks to your fingers. Blood and water look the same here.

A wolf would not have chased you this far. A bear might have crossed into the borderlands just briefly, long enough to sniff the air and realize no prey was worth the danger. But your pursuer is a Lifetaker mage, and he doesn’t hunt for hunger or even for duty. You were herded here, you realize, your desperation preordained and calculated, pushed hard and far enough that you had no choice but to risk trying to lose him in the borderlands.

You weren’t the first. That became clear to you quickly. Corpses were plentiful as soon as you breached the treeline and they grow in number the deeper you go. Their wounds are unnatural, bodies broken in ways impossible without the use of a Lifetaker’s sadistic magic. Bones protrude from tight whorls of flesh, burst organs leaking from new, twisted orifices. Some died mercifully quickly, outrunning him long enough to bleed out. Most did not.

He’s there when you look back, looming at the top of the hill. Lifetakers wear black but he’s painted in the same vivid red as the rest of the forest, light like blood spilling across the flutter of his cloak. “You’re tired,” you hear him call out to you, his tone condescending. “You’re hurt. You want to rest. So why don’t you? We both know how this is going to end.”

Running is pain. Your lungs burn. Your legs ache. War spilled over into your village days ago and you haven’t rested since as Lantenwood pushes deeper into Ophidran, subsuming and obliterating everything in its path. You’ve heard rumors of safe havens, sanctuary for those who surrender. It matters little if those were lies or if this Lifetaker is defying his orders. He intends to make this place your grave. So you run, even with a twisted ankle and wheezing, uneven breaths, even as the darkness of the borderlands deepen and you know you’ll never find your way out again.

You see scraps of those who came before you, scraps of fabric clutched by thorny branches and bloodied handprints smeared across tree bark. A corpse lays in the path, one grasping hand still extended towards the road ahead. The forest is cruel, the foliage sharp and cutting as you shove through the underbrush. The Lifetaker’s light, airy words follow you on the wind, never too far away. “I hear how your heart beats. I taste the salt of your tears. Soon I’ll feel you, the tremor of your throat under my hands. I’ll shape you into something beautiful.”

The trees open and the sight of the valley before you churns your stomach. Red. Endless red. Piles of corpses. Rivers of blood. It’s almost nightfall and the dulling of the light protects you from seeing it clearly, but the abstractions, those towering, misshapen silhouettes of flesh, are even worse. The stench of death is overwhelming. And there are things among the bodies, hunched, skulking carrion-eaters licking blood from the earth with their long tongues. You stumble back on reflex, prepared to run right back the way you came even if he’s close, even if that means falling right into his arms, because you can’t go any further, but the choice is taken from you.

Your foot finds a slippery patch, a puddle of mud and innards, and your bad leg crumples under you. You fall and there’s nowhere to go but straight down into the maw of the necropolis, among the dead. This is where the Lifetaker plans to end it. He breaks his unhurried stride to lunge after you, his cloak fluttering like wings in his swift descent. Your scream is trapped under his fingers as he pins you with his body, his hand wrapped around your throat. He’s draped in thick shadows and all you see is a sneer. You won’t even know the face of the person who kills you. Your nails scrape desperately across his wrist and he speaks in a low, excited murmur, telling you exactly what he’ll do to you, how he’ll change you, how splendid you’ll look when he’s through—

And then he stops, his mouth hanging open in shock, as a wet squelch splatters you in more red. A gnarled, long-fingered hand with hooked claws is shoved straight through his chest from behind. The Lifetaker grasps at the wound in a panic and you feel the hum of his magic in the air as he tries desperately to heal himself, willing his flesh to close, but he’s too slow. The claw comes crunching back through him, leaving a gaping, oozing hole of snapped ribs. Something lunges with a snarl and he’s snagged away from you.

He barely hits the ground before he’s swarmed by three snarling creatures, each tearing into him with teeth and claw, pulling him in different directions. His screams are drowned out by the sound of his own body being torn apart and the cackling of the creatures. Terror blurs your vision as you push yourself back, away from the things, unable to take your eyes off of them. Gaunt and skeletal—snaking bone along their chests like external ribcages clinging to sickly flesh, ridges of spinal protrusions along their backs—maws that unhinge, rings of teeth—

“Careful, softbody.”

You stiffen, holding completely still. Long, clawed fingers grip your shoulder. You’re turned around slowly, made to face one of the things as it crouches to look at you. They’re eerie, even when they’re at rest. Powerful, muscled legs bend in strange, animal ways with a flaccid cock hanging between them. Their arms are so long they must drag on the ground, and this one keeps them bent, hands in stiff, rigor mortis claws in front of his chest.

The face that stares back at you isn’t human, but it pretends to be. What you initially mistake for narrowed, drooping eyes are just narrowed slits in the face, mimicking a sorrowful expression curtained by long, dark hair. He has a mouth frozen in a perpetual smile, baring sharp teeth. There are indentions in his face, lines like the segmentation of an insect’s body.

You recognize that from the others. The head unfurls, opens like a flower. Inside is nothing but teeth.

“You smell afraid,” the crouched one says. He sounds human. If he had called out to you from the trees, you wouldn’t have suspected a thing. You’re too stunned to speak. When he reaches for you, you flinch. He smears fresh blood on your face as he grips your jaw and examines you, turning your head. “Hm? Too far gone? Should we eat you, too?”

The threat finally pushes through the fog of paralyzing fear, a desperate litany of “no” and “please” and miserable noise spilling out of you. He drags you closer, still clutching your face. He rests on his haunches, pulling you into his bony lap. You let out a frightened squeak and your hands skitter from his shoulders to his chest, unable to find any spot of skin that isn’t coated in gore. “Poor thing,” he coos. “You’re shaking.”

The Lifetaker is no longer screaming or struggling. Your gaze wanders, drawn by morbid curiosity and the disgusting sounds of flesh and viscera shredding between sharpened teeth. He stops you, his palm against your cheek. He drags your eyes back to its face.

“You don’t want to see that,” he assures you. “What’s your name, hm?”

He’s being gentle with you. You can’t figure out why. You stammer what he wants to hear and he makes a curious sound, repeating your name back to you with a strange, stilted pronunciation. Several of the others have grown bored of their prey and you can hear them ambling away from the fresh corpse. One strides right over to the two of you, looming above you and the crouched one. You look up just in time to see its face reform, a petal of flesh sliding back into place and closing a gap in its maw. That one has shorter hair, a clot of blood tangled in it. The indents that almost look like eyes are a different shape, arched in glee. It licks the blood from its lips as it stares at you.

“Mhair,” it rumbles, “what is that?”

“Softbody,” the one holding you says simply. He pets you clumsily, like he’s seen the action performed but never done it.

“I can see that. Why aren’t you eating it?”

You shudder and the one you assume is called Mhair coos softly, stroking your head. “This war’s turned you into gluttons. Before, we didn’t eat everything we saw.”

“Your loss,” the other says. It stalks away without argument.

“He’ll come around,” Mhair says absently. “He knows I’m right. We only ate the dead before. Company was special. Sweet softbodies like you are treasures.” You’re surprised when he lets you go, setting you gently back down before he stands up. When they aren’t hunched or crouching, they’re frighteningly tall. “Are you hungry?” he asks. “Plenty of fruit in the groves south of here. All for you. We don’t eat that.”

You don’t take the hand he offers to help you up. “Why are you helping me?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

Mhair keeps his hand extended patiently, his unusually long arms putting it well within reach even with him standing straight up. “I told you. You’re company. You’re special.” His face ripples, the seams fidgeting in what might be impatience, or excitement. “And where else can you go?”

His palm is rough and gnarled against yours. He doesn’t smile—he can’t, not when the seams of his face make him look as though he’s always smiling. But his face flutters, flaps of flesh quivering again, when you take his hand.

He’s talkative. You can’t tell if he’s oblivious to your discomfort or trying to help, but he chatters the whole, long walk through the valley. “Your people call us grave-eaters. You revered us once for keeping plague from your cities, but that was a long time ago. I miss those days. Once a year, we would receive offerings in thanks—meat, and a sweet softbody. The dead we ate. The living we mated until sunrise. Deathtouched, they were called after that. Blessed by grave-eaters and immune to sickness.” He pauses, watching you limp alongside him. “Should I carry you?”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m fine.”

You aren’t, but he doesn’t push. You see a few others on the way to the grove. Sated grave-eaters recline in the grass, long tongues plucking bits of skin and tissue from their teeth. Others tussle playfully over scraps, their unraveled faces tangled together like an unnerving tentacled embrace with chunks of flesh ripping between them. None of them approach you, but some leer as you pass, licking their maws. Mhair is watching you watch the others. He tilts his head when you catch him staring, feigning innocence.

You come to a shallow river, the water a deep, wine red. Trees grow along the banks, boughs heavy with strange fruit you don’t recognize, something unique to the borderlands. Mhair reaches up and plucks one easily, offering it to you. It’s firm and plum-colored, wrapped in thin, curling leaves. You take a tentative bite and sweet juice drips down your chin. “Good?” Mhair asks. You nod cautiously. You shiver when his thumb strokes the corner of your mouth, picking up some of the juice. He lifts his hand tentatively to his face, his tongue snaking out for a taste, and his entire face crumples up in displeasure. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bizarre.

“You asked me earlier where else I would go,” you say. He makes a sound in acknowledgement, sauntering off. He doesn’t go far, wading into the river until it’s up to his knees. You watch him bend slightly, rinsing the blood from his hands, ladling water across the ridges of his chest and washing the stains on his body. “You expect me to stay here?”

“If you want to survive, you will,” he says. “A Lifetaker chased you here. Would you risk running into one that doesn’t play with his food?” He wades back to shore glistening, cleaner than before, and sits beside you in the grass. You keep an eye on him as you nibble on the fruit. “If you run, I guess I won’t stop you,” he muses. “But it wouldn’t be smart. I’m willing to shelter you, keep you fed and warm in the night.”

“You want something in return,” you say accusingly.

“Nothing is free, softbody.” He lifts his hand in a beckoning gesture. You inch closer. He lunges for you, catching your wrist, and you end up trapped against him again, straddling his lap. “Aren’t you curious about the old ways?” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your cheek.

“No,” you say stiffly.

His movements are slow, languid, as he caresses you. Constant exhaustion has left your nerves frayed and every touch is both repulsive and strangely soothing, familiar, human warmth in his inhuman hands. “But your heart is racing.”

“I’m afraid,” you insist.

He’s relentless, knocking the half-eaten fruit out of your hands and tugging your wrist down between his legs. “Fear is malleable. See for yourself. Here, I’m like you. We’re perfectly compatible.”

He’s not lying. His cock is remarkably human. It’s bigger, though, even when soft, proportional to the rest of him. He closes his hand around the back of yours and moves you the way he wants, hissing in pleasure. He twitches against your palm and you start to notice differences as he hardens, an unusual curve and firm ridges along the bottom. It isn’t long before he’s as thick as his arm and so long his tip is nearly in your face. You must look as horrified as you feel because he catches your chin between his fingers and draws your gaze back to his face.

“I’ve taken plenty of offerings,” he assures you. “Many sought me out more than once.”

That doesn’t put you at ease, and he must notice, because he tries to distract you. He makes quick work of the ties on your tunic and the garment comes off in a swift movement before you can stop him. His hands are large and warm, and you lean into him to escape the cold of the night. When you stop touching him, he drags you closer. You’re pressed chest to chest, feeling every groove and bump along his strange form. “Prepare me,” he says, his tongue dragging suggestively along the shell of your ear, “and I’ll prepare you.”

It feels absurd and filthy, coming so close to death only to end up here in the arms of a grave-eater. He undresses your lower half with similar swiftness. Your hand is seized again and you wince when his tongue slithers out and curls around your fingers and his, wetting them in thick, slimy saliva. He tugs insistently at your wrist until your hand is on his cock, only letting go when you start stroking again. You don’t pay much attention to what he’s doing until you feel one cold, damp finger tracing the flesh of your entrance. Your gaze flicks nervously to his.

Does he have eyes, you wonder, underneath his hair or somewhere else? Or is he doing this entirely by sound and feel? He must’ve been telling the truth about having previous human partners, because he knows what he’s doing. He opens you slowly, his finger curled and prodding with gentle patience between your inner walls. The second finger goes in faster and easier and you find yourself pushing back against his hand, your grip on his cock faltering.

“You’re doing well,” he murmurs, the praise making your face heat up. “Relax. There we go. Ahh, I missed this. You’re going to be a tight fit.”

His cock fills your hand and it’s throbbing, globs of precum dribbling from the flared tip. He urges you to hold onto his shoulders and then his hands are on your hips, lifting you, positioning you just right. The head of his cock just kisses your entrance, smearing arousal across your skin. “Promise me,” you beg him. “If I do this, you’ll keep your word. I’ll survive here. You’’ll protect me.”

“I swear on oaths your people have forgotten, but I still honor. Take me and I will be your claws and teeth.”

You start to lower yourself and your heart stops when his face completely comes apart, splitting wetly along its petal seams into flared peels of flesh. You think he’s going to kill you, but no bite ever comes. The sight is utterly terrifying, staring into the abyss at the center of his head, the segmented inner lining of his maw with rows of thorn-like teeth. They twitch and wriggle slightly, shivering in the air. Every bit of him you take makes him sigh in pleasure, his open face fluttering. This is a good sign, you can only assume.

It’s impossible to relax with him looming in your face like that, but he tries to make you. He rocks his hips in a gentle rhythm and starts sliding his hands up your body, caressing your chest. You close your eyes and that helps you focus on the sensations, the stretch, the way he palms your chest and teases your nipples with just the slightest graze of his claws, instead of the hot breath fanning across your face.

“You’re perfect,” he hisses. “You’re divine.” His thrusts are slow and deep, easing you into taking him to the hilt. That patience starts to slip as he gets excited and you struggle to keep up with him. His hands return to your hips and you’re pulled into his harder thrusts, breathless with every hard, upward movement that punches the air out of your lungs. “You should stay…stay after the war. Stay forever. Doesn’t it feel good?”

It feels like too much. Your hands are shaking and you’re balanced right on the edge of pleasure and pain as he bounces you in his lap. He’s too big and his preparation was too rushed. He’s reaching places you didn’t even know you had, the ridges along his underside dragging out new, blistering sensations that white out your brain. It’s good and it’s awful and you couldn’t answer if you wanted to. Mhair suddenly leans back in the grass and brings you with him, gripping you tightly against his chest, and he stops holding back entirely.

You’re engulfed in him, your head cradled in the prickling grasp of his unwound head. The fear ends up muted as he slams into you, the obscene slapping sound of him fucking you hard and fast filling you with heat. Mhair’s tongue slips into your mouth and you experience the full length of it like a tentacle fucking your throat, the whole thing thick and slimy and dripping with bittersweet ooze. You sputter some of it up and feel it dribbling down your cheeks, but most of it you can’t help but swallow. His pace grows even more frenzied. You don’t know how he speaks, but he does, the words breathy and ragged.

“So good…so tight, so good! It should always be like this, sweet softbodies open and wanting for me. Should keep you. Taste you every night…!”

You cum, somewhere in the mess of it. Shivering and overstimulated, you moan helplessly in his grasp, your voice muffled by his maw and the constant thrust of his tongue. He’s not far behind, panting and eager as his slamming thrusts become quick and straining. You feel the ridges of his cock pulse in sequence as he pumps you full. He keeps going through most of it with clumsy, messy thrusts that spill some of his cum and leave it dripping down your thighs. He doesn’t stop until he has absolutely nothing left, humping you dry with frantic moans.

He lets you go in stages. His head first, flaps of skin falling limply around your face. You sting in places where his teeth dug in, but he was surprisingly careful. His tongue pulls out of your throat, not without one last, affectionate lick at the corner of your lips. He visibly struggles to form a humanoid face. The edges don’t quite meet, the flaps sagging. His grip softens, no longer bruising. One hand smooths up and down your spine. He pulls his softened cock out of your aching entrance and you whimper at the sudden, aching emptiness. The two of you rest there, sharing breath in the red dark of the borderlands.

“You’ll stay with me,” he tells you, his voice noticeably thin. “It’s best if you don’t leave my sight. The others have formed some bad habits lately.”

You shudder, remembering how the others tore apart the Lifetaker. “I’ll stay close. But I’m not staying forever.”

Mhair chuckles quietly. His hand stills on the small of your back, its weight holding a hint of possessiveness. “We’ll see,” is all he says.

#rotpeach writes #goretober #original

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chipper-pessimist · 2 years

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Cosplay Update!

I apologize that it took me so long to post an update on my The Girl from the Other Side / とつくにの少女 cosplay!

At this point, I have finished sewing Sensei’s vest and cravat; the mask is mostly done (I just need to style the feather trim I used); and I am about half-way through sewing the jacket? I also have made the base for his tail, but it needs to finish drying before I can cover it in black suede. I’m waiting to try this cosplay on until I’m closer to finishing (in part because I’m incredibly apprehensive about how it will look -- especially given the fact that I am 5′4″/162 cm tall and not lanky...).

The locket was also a fun challenge -- I don’t think I’ve had to put so much detail in so small of an illustration! I had originally hoped to more closely emulate Nagabe’s drawing style, but the more details I added, the more of my own style came through. Hopefully it still captures the spirit.

If anyone is curious about how I made the mask, you can find more WIP pictures and explanations under the cut.

After using tinfoil, plaster wrap, and questionable life choices to make a basic mold of my head, I sculpted the main shape of the mask with Model Magic and used it as a foundation over which I laid plaster wrap. I ended up merging Nagabe’s design with some reference pictures I found of sheep skulls and ended up with this:

Once that had dried, I cut out holes for the eyes and sculpted horns and ears out of Model Magic -- I thought that it would be light enough to keep this mask wearable, but strong enough to maintain its structural integrity (although I added armature wire into the longer horns for greater stability). The large horns were originally textured by imprinting them with a bamboo sushi rolling mat.

Once the horns and ears had fully dried, I glued them to the mask with Elmer’s Craft Glue and used plaster wrap to more securely tie them in. I also added eyelids, and did a quick test to make sure the mesh “follow-me” eyes fit:

After everything had ostensibly dried, I covered the plaster with papier-mâché to smooth out the surface and to strengthen the mask.

It’s at this point, as the papier-mâché on the inside of the mask was drying, that I realized the large horns weren’t strong enough. Both of them started to break near the base; I originally tried fixing them with toothpicks and glue, but that was not enough. I ended up coating both of them in papier-mâché clay (a mix of paper pulp, drywall joint compound, and flour), which meant that I needed to redo the texture on them -- this time by adding details to the clay with a butter knife. Even after this dried, one of the horns continued to break. I eventually had to wrap the bottom third of each horn in plaster wrap, then papier-mâché over them entirely...which meant I had to retexture them again by adding small rolled-up pieces of plaster wrap.

After much frustration, the mask was finally ready to paint. The original black acrylic paint I used was too glossy, so I recoated it with a matte acrylic...which was too light and dull, so I added a layer of matte Modge Podge. To add more texture to the horns, I used an undercoat of grey paint, then used a fan brush to roughly go over it in black, letting some of the original grey shine through in streaks.

Finally, it was time to add the finishing touches! I attached black suede to the backs of the ears, glued in the buckram mesh eyes, and chose to use feather trim to make the hair/floof/whatever you want to call it. I used a little more Model Magic to make supports onto which I glued the feather trim -- without it, the feathers lay too flat and weren’t floofy enough.

I ended up using E6000 to attach the trim -- since the feathers were sewn into polyester ribbon, I wasn’t sure if it would adhere to craft glue.

The last steps in making the mask were to smooth out where the trim and suede were attached -- I covered visible lines with papier-mâché, then painted and sealed it once it had dried. I still wasn’t happy with how stark the hairline was, so I glued individual feathers to the top of the mask to soften it.

All that’s left now is to style the feathers.

#chip cosplays #wip #the girl from the other side #とつくにの少女 #Teacher #Sensei #せんせい #cosplay #locket

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andressa-vera · 2 years

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Low Saturation, The Second Entry.

Louder than bombs, I break, All the pain pour out From the moment I knew The expression you had on wasn't that expression Louder than bombs, I break.

I can feel the colours of my life being more defined, more vivid, as it seeps into the horizon of my viewpoint. The rush of colours spread like ink on paper, creating patchy patterns slowly, percolating through the multilayered membranes of my life.

Yet, it does not make my life any brighter.

There are no surprises here, as the colours are simply grey, white, dull black and, sky blue.

________________________________________________________________

I still feel my heart Breathe faster like when I walked on the cold winter streets Don't say you're fine Because you're not Please don't leave me alone, it hurts too much.

The life which I had once painted with a palette~

I brandished my paintbrush and applied strokes of multiple styles. I carefully painted in the lines, drew perfect and imperfect outlines, improvised, and even vigorously splashed paint to create an artsy effect. My life was messy, yet coordinated. It was striking, fresh and graphic, and sometimes the colours mixed up to a murky shade, but that was okay. It was okay.

Renewal of my policies in life is quite important. I had to adapt to my surroundings. I was becoming an adult, rapidly, much faster than I could comprehend. I had to cooperate.

I washed the palette. I threw away the paints. I now paint a dull, monotonous scenery everyday, dragging my body and forcing myself to toil on the canvas of my life.

________________________________________________________________

Irksome Solace.

There is no music. It has ceased, and with time it slowly fades into the silence and ebbs into nothingness. The silence is piercing and loud, and has a sound of its own. The silence has a low buzz, which hinders your thinking. This silence parallels the solace.

I got everything. I got all I have ever hoped for, and finally, peace. The tempest of gore and pain has left me, and now I am in the aftermath of the storm. The silence. The relief of survival.

However...

Is this newfound solitude supposed to feel this...unsettling?

Why do I feel...why do I feel so... disturbed by this calmness? Why do I feel... anxious?

“Is this right? I feel like my life shouldn’t be going through this particular route.”

“Of course it should, because this is the best life you are ever going to have, though you are undeserving.”

“I don’t know, I feel like there is something more I could do and feel, I just feel numb and-”

“You don’t deserve to live, then. You got everything, you ungrateful thing.”

“No, I-”

“Masochist. You just want to act special and justify your wrongdoings using your pain.”

“₦Ø, ₦Ø, ₦Ø ł ĐØ ₦Ø₮ ₥Ɇ₳₦ ₮Ⱨ₳₮, ł JɄ₴₮ ₩₳₦₮ ₮Ø Ⱨ₳VɆ ₳ ₣ɆɆⱠł₦₲ Ø₣ ₴ɆⱠ₣ Ɇ₦Ⱡł₲Ⱨ₮₥Ɇ₦₮-”

“𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖋𝖚𝖑, 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞, 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉.”

Ǹ̴͎̮̫̗͙́̎Ǫ̵̥͎̝͈̻͚̝̩̽̂̄͠ ̶̬̱̲͈̮̾́͑̈̾͂̌͠ͅN̶̯͙̫̟̲͇͖͔̰̠̓͗̇̈́̓O̴̝̱̬̅̓͐̉̀̂͠͝ ̵̘̺̳̦͔̩̈̾̎̾̃͗͘͝N̸̙͈̆̈́̿̒̂̀̃Ọ̴͍͎͉̙̗̥̜̀̓͗̃̆̅̂̄̐͐ ̵̦̭͚͐͐̈́̍͗̒͜P̵̰͕̩͔͕̻͙͗L̶̮̖͕̜͎̻̘͒̒̀͊̿̍̉͒̈́̚Ē̵̢̹̙̽̔̆̑̾A̶̰̜̮̜͕̭̤̋̓̇͂́̋S̵̢̧̰̗̫̦͔̯̉̽̓̍͛͌͘̚Ĕ̸̲͈̗̬̺͙̤̏̏̑ ̵̢̧̤̠̤̖̜͇̟̑͑̽͗̔̑Ș̵͈̭̈͗̌̏͘T̸̨̖͔̰̭̳̣͎̺̙́̾̄Ò̶̺̘͇̤͖̫̮̃͗͂͒̓̅P̸̧̛͍͎̫̲̈́̒̎̑͊͂ ̴̥͖̖̏̓͌͐͗̏̽͘͝͝P̵̝̘̈́́́ͅͅL̶̢̺̿͑̓̊͋͘̚ͅȆ̴̻̗̫͎̼̩̣͔̭͌̿̀̀́A̶̢̩̙̙̞̖̻͈̘̾̿̉̐̃̆S̶̡̨̨͇̬͈̠͖̍̍̈́̋̄́Ë̸̡͉́̊͆̋̚̕̕͝ ̴̡̛̖̙̬̝̹̖̈̀͜ͅP̷͖̃͝͝Ļ̷̛͍͎͓̃͋͌̓̔͝͝E̴̥̪͙̺̔̌͊̋̎̈́͘Ȧ̴̛̲̺̘̳̮̳̯͕͜͝͝S̵̛̬͙̼̣̗͇̞̗̈́͑̈̂̚͘̚Ē̶̼͗̑͛̄̓͝ ̶̧̬̹̬̮̜̊͌̉͗̈̈́́̌̕͘I̴̡̨̭͓̬͍̫̯̻̩̒̌͊͋̓̈́͒̚ ̸̧̬̫̮̿̎́̍̚B̸͕̓̓̔̍̈̅̆̎Ê̶̜̆̒͛̎̿̚G̴̦͇̖̪͍̼̮̻̹̔͛̕͝ ̸͎͆͂̿̐̕Y̷̨̗̤̝̭̽̎̑̃̿̔̚͠ͅƠ̸̭͆̋̈͒̕U̵̢̦̙̇͝ ̵̡̧̛̰̻̯̈́͛̾̓͐̽̎I̶̧̛̤̞̞͚̅͛̈́͋̒̕͝͝ͅ ̷͙̪͎̫̺͚̹̱̪̐̓̊́́Ḱ̵͚̱͝Ṅ̵̡̟͇̘Ǒ̴̧̳̜͎̮̃͗͋͒̀͌̒̚W̴̩̙͗͆ ̵̙͉̗̰̜̬̜͐͜I̵̲͔̫̱̯̝͓̺̼̔̅̈̈́͐̏͠ ̸̡̢̰̣͉̜̞̄͐̌̓̈́̓͜Ã̶̡̡̼̪̲̮̭M̶̨͍̫̺͚̽̄̌̒̍͘͘͜U̴̞̬͕͐̅N̵̨̧̡͖̞̼̳̜͎͋͊͜G̷̱̦͙̉̿̓̒͋̆̒͝R̶̢̫̤̀̅͜Ä̸̢̌̊̃T̷͚͍͔͎́Ȇ̸̼̼̙͇̙͑̀̿͑́͝F̶̙͚̦̬̩̙͓̒̅̅͗U̵̞̮͈̝̥̤͍͐̏̅͋̈́̓͜L̴̘̫̙̻͓̇̇̓̔̔̃͂̕̕͝ ̷̥̂̓̍͗̐͆͂̅B̷̦̭̥̦͙̌̂̇̅͑͌͆Ṳ̷̡̂̽̈́̂̋̔͗͝T̷̛̝̗͎̬̺̮̮͈̭̪̏̂̏͑̃͌̍̕͠ ̸̢͑ͅP̶̡̡̱̗̮̝̘̻͛̈́̄͑̈́̈̂̆̕Ļ̶̤̜̯̟̱̲̦̃̓͂͗̀͜͝E̶̛̞̎͒̋̇̚͜͠Á̶̻̖̥̝̲̬͕̥̪͋͠͠S̵̨̺͚͖̤͇͚̐̓̌͜͝E̸͓͇̭͚̼̦̜͌̽̽̽̄ ̴̡͚̹͉͙̹͛P̸̡͚̖̖̜͌̔̕L̷̳̙̹̲̤͔̺͊̉͌̿̄Ë̸̪̹̪̥̰̗͚̼́ͅḀ̶̘̮̣̒̉͗̅̽̓S̴̜͋̈̇E̶̬̠̙̹̣̩͖͎̊̐̓̚ͅ ̷̛̭͉͖̤̼̋͒̃̍̈́J̶͈̝͆̀̀̚͜U̷̱̠͓̭͖̮̪̿̀Ş̵̲͉̳͔̰̭̔̅̄̄͛̒̈́̀͝ͅT̴̛͉͎͊̊͋͗̽͠ ̷̺̰̩̝̮̗̃͜ͅP̵͚̖͓̫͚̥͇̝̯̰̽͗̊̒͝L̸͓͉͈͌̇̇͑̑͝Ẻ̵̫͕̜̿̒͛͂̏͋̿̈́͠A̶͉̥͆̌̎͋͒͝͠S̴̛̱̼͐̾͐͌͋̅̀͊͘Ḙ̷̺͖̺̈̒̓͋̀͝ ̷̢̧̩͔̮̩͓̞̪̥̓͗͋͗̍͛̚̚͝I̸͇̠͚̦͂̔̊̿͋͂̔̕͠͠ ̶̡̛͚͓͋̀̏̚͘ͅJ̶͓̟̖̫̠͚̹̤͒͛͗̎̉̎U̸̥̘̮͉͊̒́͊̀̚͜͝Ṣ̶̡̟̲͇̘͋͆ͅT̵̡̡̛̗̖̮̊̽͆̄͘ ̷̤̳̥̫̖̝̜͔̺̲̂Ẇ̴̛͔̫Ȧ̶̧̝̰͈͙̬͍͙̥̀͜Ņ̶̪̫̙͈̮͈̋́̄͠N̴̡̝̟̥͋̔̀̊̔́͂Á̵̼̫̺͈̺̠͗͜ ̶͓̫̻͙̀̈́̐̽̇͒̆͛̎͐ ̴̢̘͘ͅL̴̪̹̙̼͙̥̈́̉̒̅̈I̴̤͎͖̳͝V̷̧͎̅̂̐̀̅̔͛̒̚͘E̷͖̹̺͎͉̹̐̃͂̽̎͜͝ ̵̨͚͉̩̙̔P̵̬̬͓̯̓̀̒̇L̵̳̫̱̬̫̎͑̀̀͘È̵͖̞̭̗͙̝̤͔̯̈́̈͐̈́A̵̱̙̘̞͖̖̟̔̎̿͋͌̆̚͝͝͠Ş̴̩̼̻̲͕̦́̑́̈́̂̈́̓̈͘E̵̟̦̻̹̠͈̾̑̓̂͐̈́͋̕͠ ̶̲̟̬̲̫̌̉͑̈̐̀̈͐͘Ĩ̷̢͔̮̦͕͎͚̬͓̯̐͆̋̒̒͑ ̵̨͙̥̜̰̙̪̀̽B̶͈̿̄̅͂͘͝Ȩ̸͗̆̔͆̂̉́͘G̷̳̤̞̰͛͒ ̵̛̛͍̟̠̩̝̤͈́̍̕͝Y̸̨̢̭͇̮̮͎̫̩͖̐̂̀̀̚͝O̸̬͉̗͙̽̓̊U̶̧͎͖̲͙̞͔̜͕̅͝ ̵̡̰̟̮͇͈͚̣̠͛̈̀͌̓̈́P̸̧̛̬͖͉͚͌̄̅̐́̌̕L̵͚̪͋̍̆̊̀͘E̸͍͔̖͊̽͂̄̀Ä̴̧̛̼̲̮͈͖͉͈͔̎͂̊͝Ṣ̵̯̋͛̆̄̆̈́̇̅͜͝͝E̸̢̲͎̖͖̗̩̣̾̊̾̓͜ ̶̤̱̙̣̮̆́P̵̨̱͇̏̑L̷̮̤̾̑͘Ḛ̸̢͖͓̈͊̈̓͑͑̽͜A̸̪͚̫̣̻̿̓͑͗̔̾͘͜͜͝S̵̢̛̪̠̅̀̕͠E̷̛͕̤̺̼̯̥̼͛́̽͌̏̓́̋̀-̶̮̟͎̣̪̗͔͖̈́͘͜

I wake up.

________________________________________________________________

Ashen Paint Extravasate.

I wake up.

There is no sound.

I brush my teeth.

There is no sound. I just woke up. My brain needs time to process.

I take a shower and slip on my clothes.

There is no sound. What is happening? Why do I feel numb?

I eat my breakfast.

There is no sound. Oh god, I feel nothing, I feel emotionless. Is there anything wrong with me?

I pack my bags and leave.

There is no sound. There is no perception. There is something wrong. I am not working. My body is wrong. What is going on?

I travel.

There is no sound. There is no perception. My senses are completely down. There is something wrong. I cannot shake them back into me. Am I going to be like this forever? No, it can’t be-

I am at school.

There is no sound. There is no perception. There is sight. Ah yes, I can see, but I cannot comprehend. This might change when I talk to my friends.

There is no sound. There is no perception. There is sight. Dipped in grey.

________________________________________________________________

Unwelcomed Abstinence~

And it has been months. Months of the grey film forced onto my life due to my own subconscious and fears. A dreary life. A life full of misery and no feeling.

It has no appeal. Life has no appeal now.

It isn’t depression. I have experienced depression, and it is nothing like this.

This is a sense of despondency, a hint of resentment.

I live a completely monotonous and grey life. The excitement and the sense of euphoria don’t hit me hard in the face, as it just caresses me gently, numbingly. The anger, the confrontations and the guilt doesn’t faze me anymore. I am stuck in a neverending loop of noise on the television screen.

________________________________________________________________

Seeing the world in faint whispers and diffused fragments all masked by a tone of grey surprises me, quite a lot.

It’s the dim world now. Low lights, moody setting, without the feeling of serenity. It is unsettling, disturbing, and irritating.

Shall I make my life colourful with the highs of the kites?

________________________________________________________________

“I am addicted to the prison that is you.”

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reimagining-twilight · 11 months

Text

🦊 Chapter Four Invitations Part One - Jasper 🦊

My arrival home is met with the expected emotions. Relife, from Esme and Carlisle. Anger from Rosalie and happiness from Alice and by extension Edward.

When Rosalie finally gets the ire out of her system I go for a walk hunting a bit more than I need to just to clear my head.

—

Esme, very impressed that I hadn't slipped, reluctantly agrees to let me return to school tomorrow on the condition that I stay with her in the auditorium. I agree because at least I'll get to see Isabella a little bit.

I'm sure their reactions would've been different if I'd told them I'm in love with Isabella Swan.

—

When we arrive in the morning I can feel the humming before we even enter the building. My violin.

The old instrument waits for me on the small office sofa calling to me, begging me to play it. I pick it up gently and just having it in my hands makes me forget about everything.

I take it, my violin coming to rest in its place, then I draw the bow, playing the first notes before I even reach the practice rooms. The sound is wonderful, dulling and heightening my senses at the same time. It's a wonderful blank feeling, empty of anything but the music.

I play the first notes that come to mind letting the emotions pulse through me. I can't hear or see or even feel anything but the music. I feel better already, the playing cleansing me of all the negative emotions. I feel emotionless and it's absolutely wonderful. I do, however, feel bad for Esme. She will have to leave the room when it becomes too much for her fragile form.

I don't think I'd kill her (not on purpose anyways) but it certainly isn't a pleasant experience. A few measures in, she quietly walks out the back door.

Eventually Esme enters the room again. This time is a gift and it's hard for her to give me this gift, painful even sometimes if I'm having a bad day. Today is going to be an excellent day. I can't stop smiling, for once it feels good to be feeling something.

When I put down my violin I sneak a look at my reflection on the screen of my MP3 player as I plug my headphones in. Charcoal hair and blazing blue eyes still bright from playing. My violin is so burnt now, I'll have to replace it soon, but for now I just replace the fraying strings.

Music blasts into my ears, it takes everything away dulling the near constant pain of emotions. The humans are arriving on campus.

I brush my hair over my face forming a curtain, I can feel the ash from my bow rub off onto my face but I don't wipe it off.

I lay down on the stage just staring at the lights, my head propped up using my coat as a pillow. When my hands have cooled to a reasonable temperature I lean against the podium and restring my instrument going at a steady human pace, pausing only to look at my shoes. My white high tops, my second favourite pair, have Van Gogh-esque moons painted on them. I painted them myself. I'm the only one who picks out their own clothes. Alice chooses everyone else's wardrobe, I know she gets great joy out of it but I won't let her touch mine. I've tried to tell her that it isn't stubbornness and I would do the same to anyone else, but it still upsets her a bit.

When the violin is restrung I sit beside it and take out a piece of black paper from my sketch book. Slowly a swan begins to form in my hand. I suppose I could use my speed to make a thousand swans but I don't. Instead I fold the black paper gently moving slowly and carefully, calming my fingers which still hum from the excitement of playing. When I finish one I start on another. I feel the emotions creeping back in and quickly drown them out again. The air fills suddenly with human scent but after the last month it's easy to ignore.

Then I feel someone's intense relief. I try to drown it out with my music but it keeps creeping through. I don't want to feel anything right now. I'm exhausted. Then the footsteps start. Urgent like she's fighting to slow herself. Then her scent hits me, beautiful made just for me, still tempting but in a new way now. She's confused. I haven't looked at myself but I know from experience that I don't look like myself right now.

I feel her gaze on me but I don't open my eyes. Why now, just a few more minutes and I'd look like myself. Why, cruel universe, oh why? I tune into her emotions, admiration then slight jealousy, curiosity. She leans slightly closer and I shiver, even though I don't want to kill her this is definitely going to take some getting used to.

At last I'm released, she steps back. I take a breath trying to be subtle about it. "Umm, Jasper? Hi."

"Isabella!" I have to smile because I'm genuinely happy to see her, more than. In my excitement I remove my headphones without turning them off. The music spills across the auditorium too loud for human ears, Isabella cringes and takes an unconscious step back, the other orchestra students look at us. "Sorry about the music, I didn't hear you come in."

She shakes her head as if to clear it, "It's okay, the song was good."

Her scent is smothering me. It's amazing but I can't breathe. I clear my throat in hopes of finding my voice again. "It's nice to see you again." I sit up, putting the swan to the side and placing my crumbling instrument in my lap. Ash dusts my slacks. Isabella's eyes dart all over my figure, not resting any place for too long. Finally they land on my hair. It should be at some shade of brown by now.

"You too," she says. She sounds honest enough, but she isn't done. I can feel her confusion and anger.

I give her a warning look and gesture to the humans around us. She nods and follows me to one of the vacant practice rooms.

As soon as I shut the door she huffs and begins again, "Where the hell have you been? You saved me from the van and then you just what? Run off? Why did you even come back today?"

I'm stung at her assumptions, and the fact that they're true. Technically Rose ordered me away but I could've stayed. Another side of me wonders why Isabella is so bothered by my absence. Either way I can't give her answers to the first question or the second without sounding insane.

What would she think if I told her that I was in love with her? I want to laugh, imagining her potential reactions.

I want so badly to play my instrument again. It will help me sort out my knotted thoughts. I tell her what I can, " I was taking a mental health break, doing my school work from home." Isabella's eyes narrow.

She continues just before I walk out the door. "Okay. I get that, but seriously. What the hell? Not even a goodbye!"

Intrigued, I let go of the doorknob. Out of everything, this is what disturbs her? "You wanted a goodbye?"

She blushes, clearly trying to come up with an acceptable response. Interesting. She settles for "What's with the hair?"

I laugh at her effort, shaking my hair over my eyes, feigning innocence, "You don't like it?"

"It's interesting, just really different. A big change." Her face is unreadable and her emotions are equally as mixed. I don't care if she likes my hair, I really don't, not at all.

I gasp, plastering a mask of shock on my face, with legitimate fear she turns to look behind her but there's only the still locked door. Have I actually scared her? She turns back glaring. I ignore her and continue my act placing my hand over my still, silent heart and collapsing onto the piano bench. Slowly I stand up again. "Boys can dye their hair."

She looks panicked again then shakes her head. "Oh, no I didn't mean . . . I wasn't judging I- I just, I like it, it looks great on you. Really, I mean it." A beautiful blush lights up her cheeks.

Her compliment makes me smile. "I just wanted a change. Esme doesn't want it too long. She thinks having your hair in your eyes makes you look unkempt. I have to say that she's right." I let a breathy chuckle escape my lips.

There's a brief silence, I don't mind it. But she has a class to get to, so I start to open the door. The force of her longing surprises me, what does she miss?

"Does it have a name?" She asks

"What."

"Your violin,"

"No, should it?"

"It's just that a lot of musicians name their instruments," she says shyly.

I think about this. I do think of my violins as an extension of my person but they're a weapon. I've never thought about naming any of them. I go through them in about a year if I play once a month and I often play more than that. They're impermanent. I don't bother getting attached. The instrument doesn't matter, just the music.

I promise to think about it anyway.

She turns to retrieve her own instrument from a case in the chairs but I grab her shoulder. "Hey, now, it's my turn."

She spins around to face me, confused. "What?"

"To ask the questions of course."

This doesn't seem to cure her confusion. She looks bored but her emotions contradict this. Excitement, nervousness. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

I start simple. "Well firstly, does your violin have a name?"

"No, but I guess if it did it would be Beatrice, Bea for short."

"Beatrice is a nice name, is there a specific reason?"

"No, I just like the sound. What would you name your violin?"

I laugh quietly. Wasn't I supposed to be the one asking the questions?

"What's so funny, is the name something dirty?" she asks, cringing, slightly confused again.

"No, of course not. You just did it again." she's still confused, "I thought it was my turn to ask questions," I explain.

She just looks at me, expectant.

I give in. "I really don't know, I'll have to ask my mother"

A strange mix of feelings pass through her, so fast I barely catch the tail end of her wondering.

"Or you could help me pick a name."

She just stares at me for a second. "Sure, but I don't really umm, I don't like know you, you know."I shake my head, I really don't know. "It can't just be a random name, it has to fit your personality, it can't just be something random." She's kind of rambling and I can tell she's embarrassed by my request.

I pause looking for the right words. "That's okay, we can get to know each other." her expression changes and I hear her heart rate increase slightly. Am I scaring her? "I really would like to be friends with you Isabella Swan. And I'm sorry I keep randomly disappearing, I know I probably don't seem like very good friend material but I hope you know I can do better." I smile, so does she.

"Sure, but I'll have you know that I'm not really great friend material either." She looks down at her feet. I shake my head, she has no idea does she?

What am I doing here in this strange casual conversation with the girl I'm desperately in love with? None of this makes sense. I want to play my violin so badly. I want to play and play and play until everything disappears, until I can untangle this vicious knot in my head. I want to play without having to be careful. I want to shed these restraints of humanity. I want to be free.

It isn't nearly the first time I've wanted this but it's the first time I've wanted someone else with me. But of course that would be very dangerous.

"Then I guess we can both be awkward together. That sounds great to me."

She nods, taking a breath then "I- umm . . . do you want to go to Seattle? With me. Not like a date or anything like that at all! There's just this book shop that sounds really cool. And we could like, go, as friends." she pauses blushing deeply, "I'm sorry if that sounded weird I don't really have a lot of friends so I don't really know what friends normally do together, yeah, sorry."

"I think that's a great idea. When would we go?"

"Are you free Saturday?"

"Yes. We would leave in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then."

I sense deep curiosity from her and I find myself wanting to tell her everything but I don't. I can't, and I hate it.

—

We talk easily for the rest of class, the awkwardness forgotten. All too soon she has to leave for her next class.

The rest of the day I can't help thinking about Saturday. Despite how aware I am that she only thinks of me as a friend, the confirmation of that was slightly disappointing. Still I'm relieved she even accepted me as her friend.

0 notes

weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

technicolor (f.w.)

prompt request by anon: it is said that when you meet your soulmate, you will know because the world that you knew in black and white would turn technicolor. during a harmless game of spin the bottle, you didn’t expect your soulmate to be revealed to you.

warnings: drinking, mentions of eating, mild language

pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

word count: 5.3k

The power of true love was life altering in your world. Literally. The world was painted in shades of blacks, whites, and grays. It always was for those who hadn’t met their true love, their soulmate, their one and only. It was said on the occasion that you had kissed your soulmate, the world before you would erupt into vibrant color. People spent their whole lives, searching for the person who brought color to them.

Living in a dull, colorless world was mundane to say the least, but it was all you knew. The idea of living in a world of color was an exciting thought to say the least, but in a way it scared you. Suddenly the world as you knew it changing abruptly before your eyes because you had met someone that destiny created for you? It was a scary thought. But in your head, you had nothing to worry about. You didn’t plan on meeting your soulmate any time soon.

Or so you thought.

Laying upside down on the common room couch, you flipped through the pages of a Quibbler, not really paying attention to the words on the page. You looked on either side of you, Katie painting her nails on your left and Alicia on the right making light chatter with Angelina. Needless to say, the four of you were bored out of your skull. It was a quiet Friday night, nothing happening in the common room. No parties, no quidditch match, no nothing.

With a groan, you pull yourself up from your inverted position and speak, “So are we all just going to sit around here like a bunch of bums and wait for something exciting to happen?”

Katie sighs, “That’s even if something exciting happens.” She blows on her nails, shaking her hands back and forth to expedite the drying process. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

The two of you look to Alicia and Angelina who just shrug as you throw your head back in annoyance. “Well, someone think of something because I refuse to let a perfectly good Friday night go to waste,” you flop the Quibbler on the table in front of you and hold your arms across your chest. “What can we do to entertain ourselves?”

Alicia stands up and starts pacing, trying to think of something. “We could...sneak some food out from the kitchens? Convince a house elf to sneak us some sweets from dinner two nights ago. Those biscuits were so good,” she thinks out loud.

Katie groans, “The thought of food makes me sick. I ate so much at dinner tonight after Ron challenged me to see how many dinner rolls I could fit into my mouth.”

The thought of Katie with bread rolls in her mouth makes the group chuckle. “Okay, so food is out of the picture,” Alicia speaks with a soft smile. “What about a movie? I can see if Hermione would let me borrow her projector and we could watch one of those movies I have tucked away in my trunk,” she suggests, surveying the group’s reaction.

Angelina makes a sour face. “We had a movie marathon last week, I’d like to do something different,” she tells Alicia who rolls her eyes.

Alicia huffs, plopping herself back onto the couch. “Well, then I’m out of ideas, so you come up with something, Johnson.”

The group sits in a bored silence for a few moments before Angie breaks the silence. “Should I go bother Fred and George? Surely they’ll find something to do. They always make things interesting,” she speaks, raising her brows, gaging her audience’s reaction.

Katie rolls her eyes, “Merlin, Angie, if you want an excuse to see your darling Georgie, you can just say so.” You laugh at her comment and give Katie a teasing high five as Alicia giggles along. Angelina rolls her eyes and leans back on the couch. Angelina and George had been dating ever since sixth year when they kissed after their first date and they had seen the world in color, confirming their soulmate status. Katie mockingly starts teasing Angie now, “Meh, meh, I’m Angie, I love George, I see the world in color. Meh, meh, my sweater is green and not black like you guys see it, blah, blah,” making you cackle, throwing your head back in laughter, clutching your stomach.

You lean into Katie as you laugh, making her laugh harder as Angelina stands up, “Oh, piss off you two! I can’t help it that he’s my soulmate and I found him so early!”

“We’re just teasing you, Angie,” you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes. “Go on, go fetch the twins. I’m sure they’ll think of something to do. Tell ‘em to bring Jordan with them if he’s around. Lee is always a good time.” Alicia nods in agreement.

With a small smile, Angelina darts off up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Alicia shakes her head, “That girl is whipped for the Weasley. I can’t believe she found her soulmate already. We’re not even eighteen yet.”

It was true. It wasn’t unheard of people finding their soulmates at a young age, but it surely wasn’t common. Most people were friends or knew their soulmates for a while before they were aware that they were in fact soulmates. For example, your parents both went to Hogwarts and we friends for years. It wasn’t until after four years after graduation that they realized they were soulmates. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your parents. You wished that you could have a soulmate story like theirs.

Katie folds her arms across her chest, “Quite frankly I hope I don’t meet my soulmate anytime soon. I feel like after you meet your soulmate, you’re expected to drop everything and be with them. But you have your whole lives ahead of you to spend time with each other. I’d rather be single and have fun and live my life in black and white for a while before seeing color with a soulmate.”

In a way you did agree with Katie. Most people who met their soulmate at a young age tended to drop everything in order to be there for their soulmate. Coordinating their lives and schedules to their soulmates, moving cities for them, planning their days around the other. It just seemed so intense. You were seventeen, you couldn’t drop everything right now for another person.

Moments later, Angelina happily came down the stairs with a large smile on her face as George, Fred, and Lee all trailed behind her. “The entertainment has arrived, ladies,” George speaks with a big beaming smile on his face as you teasingly rolled your eyes.

You sit up and speak, “What entertainment did you bring, Georgie?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended at your comment. “Are we not enough for you, (Y/N)? Is our presence not enough?” George mockingly stumbles back. “Freddie, I feel faint! Catch me!”

Dramatically, Fred scoops up his twin brother as George pretends to faint. “Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), look at what you’ve done!” he mockingly screeches as you roll your eyes and giggle. Katie huffs a here we go as she leans back into the couch. The twins always put on a show when they were around you guys. You never minded it; they were quite funny when they wanted to be. “Quick, Lee, we need to revive him!”

Lee, now in on the joke, runs over to the coffee table and clear it quickly. “Bring him here!” he exclaims as Fred lays a fake limp George on the table as you laugh and Alicia scoffs.

“Good Godric, you three are a bunch of idiots,” she huffs with a smile on her face. No matter how much she hated to admit it, this was much better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Fred speaks, “Alright, Lee, give me the reviving potion,” sticking out his hand.

Even more dramatic than before, Lee pulls out a large bottle of fire whiskey from his satchel as he improvises an operatic song as he places it in Fred’s hands. Lee opens George mouth as Fred uncorks the bottle and pours a glug into George’s mouth. George swallows it and dramatically inhales. “I’ve been revived!” he exclaims as the boys cheer.

Katie perks up at the sight of fire whiskey. “Where in the hell did you get a bottle of that?” she sits up and grabs the bottle from Fred’s hands. Lee pulls out a few cups from his satchel and places them on the table, Katie immediately pouring everyone a glass of fire whiskey.

Fred smiles, “It’s our emergency bottle. In case situations like this happen.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Alicia speaks up, “And exactly how many emergency bottles do you boys have?”

The trio looks at each other before sighing and speaking as a chorus, “Four.”

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought,” she laughs before taking a cup of fire whiskey from Katie, Katie then handing you one. “Well, it’s better than nothing I guess.”

You look at the whiskey in your cup before sighing and taking a sip, the liquid burning your throat, but warming your chest up in all the right ways. A familiar sensation. You hum in contentment. “Better than nothing is damn right,” you smile as the twins chuckle. “What were you lot doing upstairs?”

Lee takes a seat in the chair across from the couch, “Same thing as you gals. Bored out of our skulls. However, these two numbskulls were trying to conjure up a plan to go pull a prank on Filch.” George snickers as Lee flicks the back of his head, earning a small ow. “Good thing you all were bored too otherwise I would have been dragged into that mess.”

Fred scoffs, “Oh please, you wish you could pull off a prank at the caliber that Georgie and I do. Isn’t that right, brother?” He turns to George who is already cuddled up next to Angelina on the love seat, arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close next to him. Fred rolls his eyes and makes a gagging sound. “You two make me sick.”

George just pulls Angie closer to his side as Angie blushes a deep crimson. “You’re just jealous, Freddie. I’ve got a hot girlfriend and I can see the world in color, making it quite obvious that you, dear brother, are green with envy.” Angie rolls her eyes, but still places a soft kiss to George’s cheek.

Fred shakes his head, “He’s gone soft, Lee. We’ve lost one of our bravest soldiers.”

“Piss off,” Angie speaks up, defending her boyfriend as Freddie chuckles, lips turning into a gorgeous smile. “Now that we’ve all got our drinks, let’s really get the party started...” she wiggles her eyebrows. “Katie Bell, truth or dare.”

Katie groans and sips her fire whiskey before deciding what she wants to do. As she ponders, you see Fred scoot over to you as you giggle, him dragging his bum on the floor, making his way to you. Fred smiles up at you, “This seat taken?” he refers to the spot on the floor right in front of your legs.

You shake your head with a smile, “It’s got your name written all over it, Weasley.”

Fred gives you a cheeky grin, “Brilliant.”

He turns around and leans his back up against your legs and rests one of his arms on your knees. You and Fred were close friends. In fifth year when Angelina confessed to you that she had a crush on George, you started spending more time with the twins and developed a close relationship with them and Lee. You, in particular, got along with Fred like a house on fire. The two of you loved to crack jokes on the sidelines, teasing George and Angie, giggling and stealing little glances here and there.

Angelina always told you that you and Fred would make a cute couple. She insisted she saw the way that Fred looked at you, but you always brushed it off as if it were nothing. You and Fred were friends, nothing more, nothing less. A partnership would just totally ruin the vibe between the two of you. There was no point to it. Even though you may have always admired Fred’s looks from a far and his charming personality, you had finally convinced yourself that you and Fred Weasley were platonic.

As Fred leaned up against your legs, sipping on his whiskey, your eyes found Angie’s as she lifted her brows, looking at you knowingly, sending you a look that said Oh? You rolled your eyes and shook your head, responding with your eyes, No way. She just shrugged and sipped her fire whiskey nonchalantly as if to say Whatever you say...You just brushed it off and leaned back as Katie challenged Lee to a dare.

----------

The night progressed and the drinking continued and the bottle got less and less full. Soon enough, the common room was full of your tipsy giggles as the lot of you cracked jokes with each other. You hugged your sides as you cackled as Fred did a spot on impression of Draco Malfoy as he mimicked him walking through the halls, yelling “Potter!” every now and then. Of course, the humor was amplified by the liquor in your hands, but it still was hilarious. The whole group was in a fit of giggles as Lee quite literally fell to the floor from laughter too hard.

Alicia laid her head in your lap as she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes as you all recovered from laughter. “Fred, that was brilliant. You’ll have to show Harry tomorrow morning,” she tells him as Fred plops down next to you on the couch, stealing Katie’s spot as she was now sat on the floor next to Lee.

Fred chuckles and rests his arm around the back of the couch, gently hovering behind you as you suddenly become very aware of his presence. You spot Angelina out of your periphery vision as she smirks to herself before leaning over and whispering something in George’s ear, making George look at you with a devilish smirk on his lips. Your gaze towards them hardens as you mouth, Knock it off. George just smiles and sips his drink quietly, pretending to mind his own business.

You turn to Fred and give him a soft smile as he drops his left eye in a wink, making your heart skip a beat. “Easy, Weasley,” you say in a cautious tone as he lifts his arms in defense. You shake your head and lean back into the couch, bumping into his arm that is draped across the back of the couch. Neither of you bother moving.

Alicia rises from your lap and reaches for the fire whiskey bottle, but groans in defeat when she realizes it’s empty. “Bloody hell,” she groans. She looks to Lee and begs, “Is it appropriate to call this an emergency and you can grab another one of your emergency fire whiskeys?”

Lee laughs, “I regret to inform you we have a one emergency bottle a night policy.” Alicia groans and flops back onto the couch. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in Lee’s mind, making his eyes grow wide and a little smile dance on his lips. “However,” he wiggles his brows and surveys the group. “Now that we’ve got an empty bottle, I think we all know where we can take this party...”

Looking up from her cup, Katie says, “Where are we taking the party? Are we going to bed?” she asks with sadness in her voice. “But the night is so young!”

Shaking his head, Lee looks at Katie. “Are you daft, Bell?” he asks as she rolls her eyes, sipping her whiskey. “I meant we could play a cheeky game of spin the bottle,” Lee suggests.

Alicia huffs, “Really, Jordan? What are we? Fourth years?”

“Oh, come on, Spinnet, it’s just to add a little spice to the mix,” Lee shimmies his shoulders making you laugh. “Besides, it gives you an excuse to have the privilege of planting a sloppy one on me.”

Alicia fake gags. “I’d rather spend a whole day with Professor Snape,” she spits as Lee laughs.

George speaks up now, “Angie and I will sit this one out, but we will watch the show.” He pulls Angie impossibly closer to him as she cuddles into his chest. “For obvious reasons,” he smirks. Fred boos his brother and throws his now empty cup of fire whiskey at him. “What? I am not kissing someone other than my literal soulmate,” he rationalizes. “Besides, you’ve got five players. That’s enough. That is, if everyone is comfortable playing.”

The group all looks at each other, gaging everyone’s feelings of playing a cheeky game. You had to admit you’d rather not play a game as childish as spin the bottle, but for a weird reason, you were keen on playing at least one round. As you looked around, it seemed like everyone was on board to play.

Your eyes meet Fred’s for a moment as he looks at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips for a split second, hoping you wouldn’t catch him. You quickly turn away, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks. “I don’t see the harm in one game,” you shrug as you see Fred smile from the corner of your eye. Lee claps his hands cheering as Alicia and Katie agree.

Fred speaks up, “Well, I can’t let Lee be the only bloke having all the fun, now can I?”

Everyone is on board with the game as Lee cheers, “Alright! Five for five!” He places the empty bottle of fire whiskey on its side in order to spin it. “Everyone knows the rules. You spin and kiss whomever it lands on, no matter who it is. I’m looking at you, Weasley. If you land on me, I expect the best snog of my life,” he teases as you all laugh wildly. “Whomever the bottle lands on gets the next spin. All good?” Everyone nods. Lee smiles, “Groovy. Welp, youngest goes first. Bell, you’re up.”

Katie giggles, “Put on your chapstick, you lucky sons of bitches.” Alicia laughs as Katie reaches and spins the bottle. The bottle does a series of spins, turning clockwise as she anticipates who she’ll be planting a kiss on. She nervously dances back and forth as you watch her with a small smile on your face.

Slowly the bottle stops spinning to land gently on Fred. Your heart stops for a second and your mouth runs dry. You blink a few times and swallow hard. The group all claps their hands and laughs as Katie rolls her eyes. You on the other couldn’t help but have a tight feeling in your chest. You force a smile on your face before you look at Angelina quickly. She raises her brows, monitoring your reaction as you just shake your head, letting her know you were fine.

Katie scoots over to Fred as Fred leans down. “Get ready for your mind to be blown,” Fred jokes as Katie slaps his arm.

You watch very intently as Fred ducks his head down to connect his lips with Katie. You stop breathing for a moment as you watch Fred kiss one of your closest friends. Your palms start sweating and you pull yourself away from looking at them kiss. Lee and Alicia oooh and giggle as you look at Angie, eyes screaming at her, Okay maybe I’m not fine.

She gives you a nervous smile and mouths, “It’s just a silly game.”

You nod your head and shake it off. It was a silly game. That’s all. A stupid, silly, childish game. It meant nothing. You knew Katie didn’t like Fred like that. She had fancied Adrian Pucey for a few months now. This kiss meant literally nothing.

It felt like the kiss had lasted for hours when it was a brief five seconds. Katie pulls away from the kiss and returns to her position on the floor. Fred just smirks and leans back in his seat, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. You watch as he does so, the small gesture being surprisingly attractive to you as you gulp. But you quickly turn around so Fred doesn’t catch you watching.

Katie laughs, “Eh, you’re nothing to ride home about, Freddie. Hate to break it to you.”

Fred shrugs, “It’s alright, Bell. The first stage of grieving is denial. You’ll eventually accept that that kiss was the best one of your life.”

Lee cackles as Fred joins him in his laugher before leaning over and spinning the bottle for himself. The bottle spins round and round and round as you watch it, the bottle hypnotizing you. You secretly wished that the bottle would land on you, wanting to be able to kiss Fred Weasley and getting the confirmation that you didn’t like Fred in that way. But honestly, you just hoped it was anyone but Katie or Alicia.

The bottle slowly stopped spinning as it gently landed on Lee, making the group erupt in laughter. Lee’s lips drew up in a devilish smile as he rubbed his hands together, “Here I come, big boy!” he exclaims, making you laugh even harder.

Fred laughs and sits up in his seat. “Give it to me, Jordan,” he challenges.

Lee springs to his feet and grabs Fred’s face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks together before smashing his lips on Fred’s. Fred is laughing as Lee kisses him roughly, rocking him back and forth. George is absolutely dying of laughter, falling into his chair as the rest of the group squeals.

Alicia grabs onto your arms, squeezing you as she laughs, you doing the same. The kiss happens for a while as you cackle, “Good Godric, come up for some air why don’t you?”

With a smack, Lee pulls off of Fred as Fred falls back in his seat. Fred’s eyes are wide as Lee wipes his lips. “And that,” Lee points to Fred, “is how you kiss someone. Not that pathetic thing you gave Katie.”

The group comes down from laughing at Lee spins the bottle for himself. The cycle repeats for a while. Lee kisses Alicia, Alicia kisses you, you kiss Katie, Katie kisses Lee, and then the bottle spins again. Lee spins and the bottle gently lands on you as you giggle. “I’m expecting excellence, Lee Jordan,” you eye him as he laughs. “Not going to lie, Alicia might give you a run for your money.”

Lee rolls his eyes, “In her dreams.”

You giggle before the two of you close the gap between you two, kissing each other. The kiss is honestly not bad. Lee’s lips tasted of the fire whiskey along with vanilla and sugar. The kiss was gentle, but not bad at all. Your friends around you all cheer and oooh at you two in typical fashion as you both smile into the kiss. You pull away and Lee sends you a wink. “The reviews are in,” you speak. “Not bad, Jordan. Not bad at all. Actually, pretty damned good!”

Lee pumps his arm. “Hah! Take that, Spinnet!”

“Alright, my turn to spin,” you giggle and excitedly spin the bottle.

The bottle spins and spins and spins as everyone waits in anxious anticipation. Who could it be? Slowly, the bottle stops spinning and lands on the person right next to you, Mr. Fred Weasley.

Your heart stops as your mouth goes dry. Everyone immediately erupts into cheers, specifically George who springs onto his feet. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one!” he cheers as you gulp.

Kissing Fred Weasley? Maybe this game was a mistake.

You stare at the bottle, and then to Angie who wears the biggest grin on her face, and then back at the bottle and finally to Fred. His eyes stare back at you as you gulp. A smirk dances on Fred’s lips as you suck in a breath. The whole group stares at the pair of you, silent, waiting for something to happen.

The tension between you and Fred was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Cat got your tongue, (Y/L/N)?” Fred teases you as he scoots a little closer to you. You suck in a shaky breath as he chuckles lowly.

You snap yourself out of this anxious gaze and speak, confidence now coursing through your veins. You were going to kiss your best friend and it was happening now. “Make your move, Weasley,” you challenge with flirtation laced in your voice.

Fred smiles, “No need to tell me twice,” he lowly whispers.

Immediately, Fred cups your cheek and brings your lips to his. Your lips connect and the whole group loudly cheers and screams. You hear Lee scream, “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”

But you couldn’t care what was happening. You were kissing Fred. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Fred’s lips were soft, but demanding as they pressed firmly onto yours. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon and spice; his lips were like a personal drug that you couldn’t get enough of. You pressed your lips harder against his as you both sucked in a breath, your hand resting on his forearm. His lips moved gently against yours as you both enjoyed this kiss too much for a friendly game of spin the bottle.

You opened up your mouth enough for Fred to slide his tongue in, massaging his with yours as you moan just loudly enough for Fred to hear, making him smile into your kiss. As the group watched you two softly snog, they only cheer louder. You were too involved in relishing in the way Fred’s lips felt pressed against yours to care about how your friends were reacting.

The kiss was everything you wanted a first kiss with someone to be. It was gentle, but didn’t lack in passionate or desire. His lips moved in sync with yours as you followed his lead, his tongue dancing with yours. It was exactly how you imagined kissing Fred Weasley.

You are pulled from your thoughts when George cries out, “For Merlin’s sake Freddie, don’t eat the poor girl!”

Gently, you break the kiss as Fred’s lips follow yours for a moment, not wanting the kiss to end just yet. The two of you keep your eyes closed, relishing in the moment that you two shared.

Lee laughs, “Is it just me or is it hot in here?”

You giggle and gently pry your eyes open. But that’s when you gasp.

You look at Fred who sits in front of you in full color. His bright red hair contrasting against the light blue thermal shirt he wears. His brown eyes stare at you just as much in shock.

It happened.

“Merlin’s beard...” you whisper.

The room fall silent as your friends stare at the two of you in confusion, wondering what could have possibly happened that made the two of you stare at each other in shock.

“Is it...” you start.

“Yeah,” Fred answers. He lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, it is.”

You let out a light laugh with him and slowly, look around the room taking in your surroundings, the whole common room in beautiful colors of maroon and gold. Color dances everywhere as you let out an amazed chuckle.

Looking at Angie with amazement, she suddenly realizes exactly what’s going on. A smile erupts on her face as she lets out a sigh. “Good Godric,” she breathes. She looks at George. “It happened.”

The entire group registers what is happening as they stare at the two of you in awe as you two take in your surroundings gentle. “Oh shit,” Lee breathes out with a smile. “That’s bloody brilliant...”

You look back at Fred who just wears a gentle smile on his face as you look deeply into his chocolate brown eyes that swim with amazement and adoration. You could look into those eyes forever. And lucky for you, that’s what you were going to do.

Breaking the silence, Angelina says, “We’ll leave you two to it then. Guys...”

Your friends all start to leave the common room, running up the stairs to the dormitories, definitely to chat about what just happened.

You are now left with Fred in the common room, sitting on the couch together, staring at each other in technicolor. “Hi, Freddie,” you breathe out with a smile.

Fred smiles, “Hi, (Y/N),” he reciprocates. The two of you just take the other one in for a few moments as you gulp. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? Merlin’s sake, this was supposed to be a cheeky game of spin the bottle and all of a sudden. “We’re soulmates,” Fred speaks plainly.

“I guess so,” you laugh. You gently bite your lip. “I never thought it would be you, Fred.”

He inhales a long breath. “I had a feeling,” Fred admits as you teasingly smack his arm. “I’m glad I was right,” he confesses as you blush. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. With and without color,” he tells you. “I didn’t think that you could get more gorgeous, but color has proved me wrong.”

You shake your head, “Freddie...” you trail off, blushing wildly, crimson appearing on your cheeks for the first time. Fred takes your hand in his and gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You give into his touch, nothing feeling more right. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Fred lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re soulmates,” he repeats himself as you nod. “Wow...so, we get to spend forever with each other, huh? You’re going to get really tired of me, aren’t you?” he jokes as you laugh.

“I could never grow tired of you,” you confess, squeezing his hand. You run your hand through his red hair. The signature of the Weasleys that you could finally see now. “I do have to say though,” you start. “I was not expecting your hair to be this red.”

Fred laughs, “Get used to it, darling. You’ll be staring at it for the rest of your life. Not to mention, the Weasley genetics are strong. Sorry to say that if we decide to have kids, they’ll end up like this.”

You roll your eyes, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Freddie.” He smiles and sends you a wink. “So,” you breathe out. “What do we do now?”

He inhales deeply and sighs. “Well,” he starts. “I think we ought to tell people, specifically our parents,” he says as you nod. “But other than that, we do what we want.” You gaze into Fred’s eyes and smile. “(Y/N), we have the rest of our lives together. There’s no rush. We can go at our own pace. We don’t have to pay attention to what people say we should be doing. I’m just happy that we’ve found each other that way we can start forever now.”

Your heart fills with joy and adoration at his words. You had always worried that you wouldn’t love soulmate, nevertheless like them, but loving Fred Weasley was going to be the easiest task of your life. Living your forever in color together.

“Sounds good to me, Weasley,” you smile.

Fred leans in and closes the gap between you two, kissing you again sweetly like he had done minutes ago for the first time. His lips are even gentler than before on yours as you smile into the kiss. Fred pull away and smiles, “Reckon we go upstairs and get the teasing out of the way from the lot?”

You take a moment. “Let’s wait a little while. We have forever for them to tease us. We’ll only have this moment for a short time.”

He shakes his head. “Merlin, you’re perfect.”

And there the two of you laid in each other’s arms, taking in the new colorful world before you, souls now connected forever. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred wealsley x gryffindor! reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut

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strawbabysimp · 3 years

Text

Cold || Dom!Kagami x Reader

Genre: Smut

Category: Dom!Kagami x Fem!Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Knee Grinding, Pet Names, Praise, Size Kink, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex

Request(s): "Can you make a heavy smut with kagami taiga"

A/N: I wasn't sure if you wanted sub or dom but I promised some more dom!character content so hehe :)))

You stepped out of the gym alongside your boyfriend, the sky painted in pinks and purples as a sign of the time. Practice had gone late for the team and while you may have simply sat down and watched, offering the occasional comment or hanging out with the others during a break, you found yourself eager to go home. You knew Kagami could spend a few more hours on the court but he always did love to push himself and the boys didn't want to spend their Friday night running drills no matter how much they enjoyed the sport.

You walked side by side, his hand making its way into yours as you savored the moments before you two had to go your separate ways. You looked up at him and gave a small smile, the two-toned-headed boy returning one of his own albeit a bit more tired looking. He was peering down at you fondly when his eyes widened, tugging your hand behind him as he swerved off to the side. You were confused by his panicked expression but followed along nonetheless, his rapid footsteps soon accompanied by the softer, albeit growing, sound of droplets hitting the pavement.

Despite his efforts, by the time you and Kagami had reached shelter, you both had gotten your fair share of the rain's wrath. The jacket that he had thrown on upon leaving the school grounds was held over your head, keeping you safe from the downpour with the help of Taiga holding you close to him. Black and red strands were stuck to his forehead, hair losing shape as the moisture weighed it down against his scalp. You looked out at the street to see the water flowing past and your concerned expression was met with a wide smirk from the Seirin player.

"I don't think you're gonna make it home today, Y/N."

You were about to voice your annoyance at his smug look but as the wind began to blow the rain in your direction, you conceded. You didn't plan on walking home in this weather or to the station to be surrounded by unpleasant warmth from wet bodies.

Taiga's place it was.

~~~

Stepping into the apartment was like walking past the gates of Heaven after stumbling up the pearly white stairs. A content sigh left your mouth as your boyfriend locked the door behind you, quickly leaving you to your own devices, eager to rid himself of the clothes sticking to his skin. You may have been protected from the clouds' overflow but he hadn't been so lucky. You were grateful for his sacrifice though and made your way over to the kitchen to show him your thanks, having been made comfortable in the environment long ago. Your family spared you the trouble of having to call to tell them the situation, saying they were stuck out of the house because of the weather as well, and to just update them on the situation later.

Your boyfriend stepped out of the shower once the ramen water began boiling, his footsteps giving away his presence as your back was turned to him. You were about to add the noodles when his fingers curled around your wrist, bringing your hand down to the counter as he silenced the water. His other hand came to rest on your hip, rubbing small circles into the skin through fabric before he made his way beneath your shirt to pull you back against him.

"Taiga," you spoke slowly, "what are you doing?"

His response was a small chuckle, his chest sending vibrations across your back as he nudged forward once again. "Just warming you up," he said matter-of-factly, "I used up all the hot water and I can't have you catching a cold." You could feel the hardness against your ass and as your gaze traveled up his forearm to get a better look at the man pressed against you you realized he didn't bother to put on any clothes, a towel being the only thing preserving his rapidly fading decency.

A shiver ran up your spine at the contact and both of his arms came to wrap around your waist, turning you around to face him as he mocked your body's reaction. "See? You are cold." His cock pressed against you through the layers and he couldn't help but sigh against the top of your head when he ground himself against you.

He continued to step forward, guiding you away from the bowls you had laid out and to the other counter. Your back pressed painfully against the hard surface but the way his knee came to slot between your legs and press against your core quickly directed your attention elsewhere.

His fingers gripped your chin as his eyes stared down at the way his thumb massaged your lip, mesmerized by the sight. Your breath stuttered and his eyes gleamed victorious, knowing he had won you over. "Still cold?" Kagami whispered against your ear, your soft whines continuing as you nodded against his hand. His knee never stopped its teasing motions and he allowed your eyes to shut as you basked in the pleasure it provided.

As your noises became louder and the friction became somewhat painful, he pulled away, prompting a drawn-out sound of disappointment from your throat. Your eyes opened slightly to see what your boyfriend was doing but widened as he lifted you up to gaze down at him. Your thighs moved to wrap around his waist but he wasn't done yet and with a humorous "Alley-oop" he dropped you down onto the counter and situated himself between your legs, towel dropping in the process. His leg kicked the item away, having no more use for it, and he gave a smug look as you dragged your gaze up from the erection currently resting against his stomach.

"Too many clothes," he huffed. His fingers made quick work of your pants, throwing them to the side to join the previously discarded towel and quickly moving on to your top. You helped him rid your body of its clothes, his rough palms gliding across your skin appreciatively as he removed the final pieces. Your back was cold against the counter as you lied back, the man between your thighs now hovering over you.

"So cold," Kagami voiced as he rubbed his cock between your folds, the heat seeping into his shaft despite the words. He soon stretches you around the tip, allowing you to adjust to this size as he makes a strangled noise from the lack of motion. His palm moves to push against where his cock will soon be, slowly sliding into you while appreciating the way he presses against his own hand through your flesh.

"You're taking me in so nice. You should be thankful I'm willing to warm you up like this, keep you safe with my cock. I can feel you heating up with every thrust."

Tears fill your eyes, the warmth in your chest growing as he begins to fuck into you, wetness spilling from your core and coating his shaft more and more with every jerk of his hips. You try to express your gratitude for filling you up with his warmth so eagerly but the words of thanks fail to leave your mouth, pleasured cries taking their place as Kagami refuses to have mercy on your pathetic state.

The knowledge your walls must be barely accommodating his size dulls out the pain from his thrusts, the thought repeating in your head lulling you into a blissful state. At that moment all you had to focus on was allowing him to milk his cock with your insides and to enjoy your own steadily approaching orgasm.

Whimpers rose out of you, vocal cords giving away just how fucked out you were even if you couldn't quite work yourself up to actual words. Kagami's moans echoed off the walls, mixing with the sound of skin against skin. His hips increased their pace and the warmth in your core spread higher and higher until it eventually took over everything.

You had a vague recollection of being filled, your insides coated in white as your inner muscles spasmed in ecstasy. His forehead found yours as he lifted your limp body to sit upright, his fingertips running along your spine as he smiled with shut eyes.

"You warm enough yet?"

You shook your head with a soft chuckle.

#Smut #Kagami #Kagami Smut #Kagami x Reader #Dom!Kagami #Dom Kagami #Kuroko's Basketball #KNB #Anime #Kagami Taiga

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Text

“i want you to have me...all of me”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: virgin!reader fluff, porn with a plot, nsfw (MINORS DNI! loss of virginity, corruption kink, dacryphilia, kissing, fingering, spit kink, oral fixiation, creampie, consensual sex, protected sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, jaw grabbing, praise kink, degradation, bondage by capturing weapon, biting and marking, hair pulling, cunt slap)

word count: 5300+

a/n: i haven’t posted in a week cause of revising but yeah this is for a collab and i have one more collab event going on so yeah from now to the 21st they’ll only be this fic and another fic coming out, enjoy.

other information: corrupt a virgin collab by @seita

summary: in which shinso finally takes the next step with his sidekick after being unable to confess he finally works up the courage finding out your own secret as you both decide to take the next step in your newfound relationship

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He couldn’t help but stare at you, stare at how pretty you looked on his arm, you were more than just your looks though. The way you silenced a room with your quirk, the way you were able to easily fit into any conversation and the way you always eagerly spoke to the pro hero.

It had been a long night of mingling at the event for pro heroes that Shinso almost forgot the real purpose of it. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you were his sidekick and that was it, you had a powerful quirk that would get you far in the hero society. But most of all you were so damn innocent.

Your lingering eyes on his form as he entered the agency, the way you’d give him those tender looks whenever he explained the day's tasks. He couldn’t help but stare at you from a distance, the way you spoke calmly to the other side kicks. He had brought you along to the event more for his own benefit than what he had told you the day prior. Words of getting you to talk to other pro heroes when in reality he had just wanted you on his arm for the night.

The stupid purple dress that clinged to your body had made him unable to resist the temptation. You looked too good to be left alone, so as he remained at your side, introducing you to other pro heroes, Midoriya and Todoroki both smiling happily at you. You seemed to easily converse with the two pro heroes even speaking to the rowdy Bakugo as he arrived with drinks for the three of them. Midoriya offered his to you which you had happily taken, Shinso didn’t need to worry, of course he didn’t.

But another feeling had taken over him as he watched you converse, watched you happily take the drink. Fingers brushing against Midoriya’s fingers, a feeling of an unknown jealousy that made him begin the walk towards the four of you.

His arm moved to your back as you gave a sweet disgusting smile at him, “haven’t been getting into any trouble, have you?”

“No…of course not,” you stifled as he smirked looking down at you.

“We should get going,” he led you away as his hand remained on your back, he turned to meet the three men who watched you leave. A sickly smirk on his face as he couldn’t help but feel a burst of energy hit him as he talked to you.

You were too perfect for him to not resist, for him to not touch. “it’s so early though Shinso.” You whined as he didn’t meet your gaze, you were nothing more than his sidekick, you have no feelings for him, he could tell from the way your gaze lingered back at the hall. “We sh…”

“We have an early morning,” he interrupted as you closed your mouth, your proposition to spend more time with him seemed to have gone over his head as he began stepping down the steps towards the car park.

You hated how cold he could get in a matter of seconds, how every time you’d see him smile and it would turn into a scowl once he realised what he was doing. On many occasions your friends at work had told you about the many occasions of when Shinso would get pissed off and the whole agency would become annoyed as well.

Shinso watched as you hadn’t followed him as you looked up at the night sky, thinking – most likely about how much you wanted to be nowhere near the man. His dull eyes focused on you as he saw you take the steps towards him cautiously. You were too pure, too vulnerable for him to ever have, and as he kept you at an arm’s length he knew tomorrow was already doomed to be an uneasy day.

Shinso had dropped you off to your apartment without a world, he watched you enter the complex before leaving. He was about to drive off when he banged his hand against the steering wheel, if only he had confessed, the event was supposed to be the alone time he had wanted with you. But his insecurities and nerves had gotten in the way, as he banged his head against the wheel he couldn’t help but feel almost pathetic.

He had gotten over the torment of his quirk being villainous years ago but now with someone so filled with a painting vitality that was unknown to him he couldn’t handle it. What was even worse was the way you banged your head against the door. You could’ve said something more, reassured him, asked to spend more time. But you had remained frozen even in the car ride, your gaze on the wisps of black and everlasting speckles of white shine through the mist.

Both of you remained tormented by your overthinking as neither realised the feeling that was ready to explode tomorrow.

You walked into the agency bright and early as you were met with one of your friends, Mai grabbed your hand as soon as she saw you. Taking you to where some of the offices were and most of all where Shinso’s own office sat, the glass separating everybody from him. As you looked through the transparent material, “what’s happening?”

“He’s been in his office just staring outside of the window for the past two hours,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay and why doesn’t someone just go and ask if he’s okay?” You questioned as you were about to step forward and go yourself.

That’s when the feeling of multiple arms stopped you in your tracks, “listen newbie, there’s one rule you have to follow here and that is to never go into his office without him asking.”

You chuckled at how stupid they were all being, “what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“You don’t want to know?” One of the sidekicks said as he shivered.

You raised an eyebrow giving an unamused look as you barged past the hands, they looked at you hesitantly but didn’t stop you, “newbies gonna learn the hard way.” One of the sidekicks said as Mai elbowed them watching what was to occur.

You knocked on the glass as you didn’t hear a response but still walked in, “Shin…”

Half way through your speech you felt his capturing weapon wrap around your body as he turned the chair, his eyes widened as he saw you caught in it. He let go in a matter of seconds, but eyes remained still as he looked at how you still gave a toothy smile. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I got warned so it's my fault…” you trailed off as he began to unwrap the cloth off of you. The image ingrained of you wrapped in it as he was able to fuck into you, shaking his head as he put it back around his neck. “…is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Shinso looked outside seeing how people seemed to be doing everything but their jobs. He stepped past you going to the glass as he opened the door, “don’t you all have patrols to go too?”

His eyes flashes into a haze as everybody seems to scurry to grab their things for patrols as they leave the building. “Come on…” he murmured as he began walking out of the building, if he was going to go on a patrol he was going with you,

He had spent too long of a time without you that if he wasn’t going to confess today then he’d forget about you. He was giving himself today, he had to do it, he was a Pro Hero, he had everything he had wanted. His dream was a success but your arrival had made him want you and now with you so close in his grasp he had to try at least.

His eyes flashed to the way you walked beside him, you seemed tense, quiet even. Your hero costume ordaining you perfectly, the whites and lilacs making the pure vessel you had ready to be tainted. He licked his lips as he fingers went through his hair, the Artificial Voice Cord around his mouth.

You always loved the way it worked, having heard Shinso speak about it when you had first arrived. It was interesting and the start of what you would call a friendship when you had asked to see how it worked. “Your staring Y/n,” he said, “focus on the civilians.”

You nodded as you looked back to the surrounding areas, it seemed like villain attacks were on a low at the time, even with petty crime it was easily handled by the both of you. You wanted to speak about last night, how he seemed to want to confess of something but instead the silence and awkwardness that occurred instead.

“Shinso…is something wrong?” You murmured as you both walked passed an alleyway.

He looked down at your face, the way your hero costume clinged to every part of your body. He had no idea how you didn’t get cold from wearing it especially when winter occurred. But your question made him think instead, he was only irritated this morning due to not confessing to you.

But his liking of you stemmed from more than just wanting to ruin the purity you had, he liked how you spoke to others, how you easily became friends with the other sidekicks, how you looked was an added bonus. But most of all he liked that stupid goddamn smile you’d have whenever you saw something you liked. And at that moment Shinso was seeing that stupid smile, the way your eyes crinkled, and lines formed as your lips were full and cheeks pushed to show even more of your smile.

He stared at you, the way you continued to look up and smile at him he was silent, and you didn’t care because he finally looked at peace. The startling noise of an ice cream van to the side had made you focus away from him, the way you stared at the kids holding their ice cream as it dripped to the side of their fingers. “Come on, I’ll get us one,” Shinso didn’t let you answer, instead taking your sleeve as you both went towards the truck.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, he hated how he couldn’t be his normal blunt self, he was able to talk to people. He knew he was that’s how he had made friends when he had finally joined the hero course. But as he looked over at you, the way you looked at the different ice creams before pointing at the one you wanted…you were someone who wouldn’t glance at him twice.

As he passed the ice cream to you, you took a lick of it as you looked at him take his own. He didn’t even know if you knew what you were doing, licking at the sides as he watched your tongue. He shook his hair trying not to stare but as you both continued the patrol of a less crime filled area. The ice cream dripped to the side of your hand and finger.

There was a silence as you both ate in silence, as you both turned to see the agency. Your fingers with the white dairy as you sucked on it, he couldn’t help but watch as each finger came out of your mouth with saliva sticking to it.

It was Denki who had got him out of the trance, stopping the both of you as he came from his own patrol, “Shinso,” the man looked at his friend as he gave a tired look.

“Oh Kaminari, what are you doing here?” He questioned as he watched his blond friend look down at you.

Denki already knew of you, having seen you last night but not spoken to you. He had seen Shinso’s lingered looks and had often heard the man speak fondly about you, “just passing by you must be the Y/n I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about me,” you smile out, it wasn’t the same one you had given to Shinso but Shinso was able to witness you converse with his friend. How much he loved that about you, how whatever situation you were put in your ease to become friends with another pro hero.

Denki nodded as he looked back at Shinso, “all good things, you were right she is very pretty Shinso.”

Shinso glared at his friend as Denki chuckled, “I better leave before I get punched by lover boy.”

“Kaminari,” Shinso murmured as he just wanted his friend to leave. Denki left with a wave as you gave a confused look tilting your head to the side to look at Shinso.

“Pretty…”

“I…I…” Shinso knew it was now or never to confess. Knowing that the rest of his day would end up becoming busy with other sidekicks and scheduled meetings he had. He stopped you in your tracks as he looked down at you, your soft gaze staring up at him lightly.

“You are…You’re pretty…”

“Oh thanks, I don’t really see it, but I guess the quirk makes me look more pre…”

Shinso interrupted quickly, “No…no it’s not that. Fuck…” his hand went to the back of his neck as he didn’t dare look into your eyes, “I like you, okay? I don’t want to ruin anything though and you probably don’t like someone like me because of my quirk and…”

Your hand went to his cheek as you stopped his rambling, “you’re such an idiot.”

“If you’re going to reject me you could be n…”

You interrupted him once again, “I’m not, I like you too…you’re the first person I’ve ever…ever liked and I guess I’m not very good and showing my feelings…but I do like you too.”

He met your gaze as your hand remained on his cheek, he looked at you, how small you seemed. Your eyes flashed to his lips as he looked at you softly, “we can take things slow, whatever you want.”

Before you both could lean into one another, the sound of sidekicks coming through the corner made you both move apart from one another. An unnerving silence between the two as Mai came towards you, “let’s get some lunch Y/n.”

“Okay,” Shinso had been taken by some of his other sidekicks over an issue that occurred as you and Mai left on your break.

Giving one last look behind you as you looked at the man, he had a new glistening to him as he licked his lips. He was finally accomplished as he couldn’t wait to finally have you be his.

The day continued with Shinso being busy with the issue that occurred, you had barely seen him as you and Mai went on another patrol, both speaking about the events of the weekend. You spoke about the pro hero event you had been to and how nice the number one pro hero had been. A shocking surprise for Mai who seemed to feel intimidated by the green haired man. “I’m telling you he was so nice, like he offered me his drink.”

“Ugh I wish Shinso had invited me now, I want to meet him so badly,” you chuckled lightly as you both watched the sun begin to set. You could understand why he had invited you of all people last night now, how his stuttering of how pretty you had looked in the dress you wore for the event. It had all connected and all you could think about was the man.

When you both arrived back at the agency, an uneasy emptiness had settled, Shinso was missing alongside other sidekicks. You and Mai didn’t question it as you both grabbed your stuff to leave, just as you both stepped outside the doors, you saw Shinso pulling at his hair as he seemed angry about something, taking aggressive steps as he walked towards his office. You would have gone to see him if the pull of Mai didn’t stop you, instead taking the long walk back to your apartment instead.

Shinso had become pissed as soon as his sidekicks spoke of what occurred, having to spend the whole day sorting out their mess. He had finally come back to the agency after hours of running around the city. His mind had been on you and with you having already left and unfinished business occurring.

His mind was focused on just you, wanting to only see you, wanting to only have you. As he took his car keys, leaving the agency as quickly as he could, a few goodbyes here and there. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was you, corrupting you.

You had finally felt free after the confession this morning, lying on the sofa as you flicked through some shows. Shinso had been your first crush ever since you had first seen him when he was starting out. But for him to like you back, you felt like a kid. A worry settled through you, you were inexperienced, not even having had your first kiss let alone slept with someone.

Under the guise you had of wanting to seem pure, an unsettling urge to have Shinso in you had taken over you. The way his hero costume clung to his frame, his hands moving through the capturing weapon. The said capturing weapon wrapped around your wrists as he fucked your mouth, you couldn’t lie and say that even if Shinso had spoken of taking things slow all you wanted was him.

The sound of the door being knocked at made you jolt as you opened the door to see the man in question. He was still wearing his hero costume as he looked at you with a fiery lust, “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

His hands went to your neck as his finger brushed against your cheek, lips smashing against one another. You didn’t know what you were doing, instead hands moved to his hair as you followed his movement with your own. His tongue gliding through your mouth as it skimmed against your tongue, he heard your low moan as his other hand moved to your back making you arch into the kiss.

He let go as your faces stayed close to one another, the fury remained not subsiding. He looked at you with lust as his mouth moved to your neck, “I need you Y/n…please.”

A soft kiss placed against the crook of your neck as you leant your head backwards to allow him more access. You had been thinking of this for too long, wanting him but his edge as his fingers played with your shirt. Slipping under as his hand gripped your sides, feeling your skin under him.

“Shinso…” you whispered as his mouth continued to kiss at your neck, he looked up at you. A realisation flashed through him as he let go of you.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I shouldn’t have…I said we should take things slow and I…I…forgive me today has just been…” he had begun pacing around, as he went to close the door.

You didn’t know how to react, you wanted this, wanted to help him and as you interrupted him, your own lust took over, “I want you.”

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at your form eyeing you up and down as he moved towards you once again, “are you sure?”

“Yeah…” you looked down as you didn’t want to admit the truth.

“Y/n…” his hand moved to cup your face, forcing you to stare up at him as his lips were close enough for you to touch, to feel once again, “tell me properly that you want this.”

“I want this…it’s just…” he waited for the response giving you a tender look as you looked at him with a soft glow “…I’m a virgin.”

He always thought the persona you put on was a façade that someone capable of fighting any villain and talking to anyone would have had one-night stands. Especially with how pretty you were, everything about you was pretty from the way your hair sat to the way you spoke. Shinso’s quirk relied on people talking but whenever you spoke he felt more enchanted than any of the people influenced by the brainwashing.

“That means I can ruin you…myself.” He felt even more turned on as he watched you stare up at him, he pushed you back on the arm rest of the sofa. You sat on it as one of his legs spread your legs open, hands gripping your face, his thumb skimmed against your lips as he pushed it inside watching as you sucked at it. “You gonna let me ruin this pretty…” his thumb moved out of your mouth as he skimmed your saliva across your mouth and cheeks, watching the spit fall down.

“Yes…” you were breathing heavy as he smirked seeing how dazed you looked. Your face tainted in a matter of seconds, gripping your jaw with one hand as his other went under your shirt. He went under your bra as his finger moved to flick against your nipple.

The instant you moaned, mouth agape, the build of spit he had in his mouth was spat right into your tongue. You moaned as his finger continued to pinch at your nipple, the spit mixing with your own as Shinso was able to see the strings of saliva against your tongue and mouth. “You’re already doing good baby.”

The praise sent a flutter through your body as he noticed how your eyes glossed, “let's finish this in your room.” He gripped your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms moved to his neck.

You kissed him as he could taste his own saliva and your spit mix between both of you, as he kicked the door open, seeing how your room reflected you perfectly. He put you on the bed as your mouths remained connected. Spit on the sides of your mouths as he saw how much you craved him, your hands moving to grab onto his capturing weapon.

He closed the bedroom door as he knelt on the bed, one knee between your own as he wanted to feel how wet you were. Taking the capturing weapon off of his neck, he watched as your eyes lingered onto it, putting it to the side where he could easily grab it. He kissed you softly, leaning down as your back hit the duvet.

“You sure you want to do this?” He whispered as his hand lingered across your shirt, his hand waiting to hear your response.

You nodded as he waited to hear you verbally say it, “I want you to have me...all of me.”

It was all he needed for his hand to lift your shirt above your head, the way your breasts sat in your bra, hard nipples from his fingers already having flicked against them. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby…make you scream for me.”

You moaned as his mouth sucked at your nipple, his fingers flicking against your other one, as his other hand moved to your joggers. Hand about to divulge into your underwear, your hand had moved to pull at Shinso’s hair as he continued to suck and nibble at your tit.

“Hi…Toshi”, at the sound of his name, his hand went into your underwear, feeling how wet you had gotten. His fingers beginning to play with your clit, feeling the nub between his fingers as your moans intoxicated the room. “M…more…please..” you arched your hips to feel his fingers against your slick filled clit.

The movement made Shinso stop sucking at you, he looked at you, how slutty you had become to feel even more of him. He took his hand out of your underwear as you whined to feel more of him, his fingers filled with your slick, “already wet…isn’t that slutty of you…” He watched as you tried to get passed his legs to feel some more but he put his fingers across your lips instead, “you want to taste yourself…open up.”

He was too close to your lips as just as you opened your mouth, he moved his fingers and sucked on them himself, “you took too long.” He teased as he sucked each finger forcing you to watch as your hands tried to get to his trousers, but his other hand had restrained both. “If you keep moving I’ll have to tie you up…or is that what you want?”

You both looked to the side where the capturing weapon was, he leant against you, the imprint of his cock through his trousers pressing against your clothed cunt. You rutted against him, he gave a groan at the movement against his cock as he took the capturing weapon, the carbon coil flicking between his hands as he grabbed your hands. His cock skimming past your cunt once more, as he put your hands above your head, using the cloth as it wrapped against your wrists, tightening it at each movement you made against him.

“You want to be tied up for me…if you’re going to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He watched how your chest became full and raised as you arched to feel more of him, he took his shirt off as he was left shirtless.

Your eyes filled with a hunger as he went down to kiss you, “reply to me or I won’t fuck you baby.”

“I…I want to be tied up…” you whispered acknowledging how turned on you had become just from his action.

“Good…” his hand moved to your underwear, going past it as his hand patted your cunt, “…girl”

Both his hands moved to pull your joggers down your form, pulling your underwear down simultaneously. He watched how flushed you had become from being exposed, “pretty virgin cunt baby.”

“Take it…” you murmured as your hands ruffled against the material.

He undid his belt as he looked at you softly, “I intend too,” fingers moving past your clit as two fingers divulged into your cunt. The feeling of your walls pushing against his fingers, “you touched yourself baby.”

“I…I…” as his fingers moved inside of your cunt, you moaned as he went further into you, “Y…yes…”

“Naughty girl aren’t you,” he watched you squirm, your legs twitching at the feeling of his thick fingers pumping back and forth into your wet cunt. “Want to cum? Want to cum on my fingers baby?”

“To…Toshi, ple…please let me…cum…” your mouth had widened, drool coming from the corners as you felt a coil in your stomach.

He pumped into you continuously, his fingers moving into the back of your cervix as he watched you twitch even more, “cum for me baby.”

“Toshi…” your loud scream of his name as the coil snapped the gush of cum being pushed back into you as his fingers continued to move past your first orgasm. “Wan…want your…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence, already knowing what you wanted as he watched his fingers were soaked in your cum. Stepping out of his trousers as he took his own boxers off, the imprint of cock made you lick your lips. He went into his pocket finding a condom as he looked down at you.

Cum dripping onto the bed sheets as your cunt looked plump and swollen, ready for him to take something no one else had even seen. Rolling the condom onto his cock, his fingers moved to your mouth, letting you have a taste of any cum that was left on his fingers. “You ready for this baby,” he whispered as his arms trapped your frame, he leant down to kiss you as you moaned a yes. “This is gonna hurt a little bit…”

His indigo hair damp as it rested against the back of his neck, he watched your hands squirm wanting to touch his hair as he moved one hand to unravel the capturing weapon. As soon as your wrists were free your hands went into his hair, pushing him to kiss you more, his cock moving past your clit and first orgasm.

“I want you…” you whispered as your faces were only a mere inch away from one another, he looked down at you as your eyes were filled with a different feeling. Not of a lust that you both had experienced, but a passion to finally become one.

His cock moved past your clit, he pressed into you slowly as he watched you moan, eyes watering. Wiping the tears with one hand, “you’re doing amazing baby, just a little bit more.”

His cock was half way into you as he began to thrust back out of you before going back in, your eyes watered even more at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your cunt out. “To…Toshi, I can…can take m…more,” he nodded as he pushed into you, his base finally meeting the entrance of your cunt as you moaned his name.

He began to thrust back and forth into you, going deeper into you at each thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist as his knelt feeling his cock go into your even more. His mouth went down to kiss you softly as saliva missed between one another once again, the feeling of his spit sticking to the corners of your mouth were prevalent as he continued to fuck into you. “Yo…you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he whispered as you he moaned into your ear.

The sounds of him groaning and moans of your name making you want to feel him forever, “To…Toshi please more….” His thrusts became quicker as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hands limp around his neck as even your legs seemed to have fallen due to the impact of each thrust.

As you gained your high, eyes opening as you saw his form, the way his hair fell across his face, his perfect body and cock, but most of all the look of love he had for you as he met your eyes. “I want to...be with you,” you whispered into his ear, his form changed as his thrusts became even more sloppier, “Hitoshi…I…I love you…”

“I love you too Y/n…” the sound of his voice making the coil snap in your stomach, feeling the white gush out of you. Each sloppy thrust becoming even sloppier as you moaned his name at the feeling of your release. The use of your cum being used to help him get even more into you, “I fuckin…love you baby.”

His words repeated as he felt his own high, groaning your name out loud as the cum gushed into the condom. Sliding out of your cunt collapsed beside you, sweat across both your forms as you gave a tired look at him, the night sky reflecting from outside, the small lamp to the side illuminating the room as he turned to see. The way your chest rose, cum dripped down onto the bed and hands moved to move his hair away from his face, “I do love you Toshi.”

He took the condom off as he tied it letting it drop as he watched you move to rest against his chest, fingers against his lower abdomen. He smiled watching how your eyes became tired and began dropping down slowly, the feeling of his body against you remained.

Kissing the top of your head, he pulled the covers on top of you both as he watched you snuggle closer into him. Almost wrapping your body against him as he looked up at the sky seeing the wisps of new stars and new colours, looking down at your sleeping form and the new relationship that had formed.

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

so sweet

— Well, you always knew Tamaki’s quirk was extremely versatile. You just didn’t expect him to be able to go this far. Or, a story in which you and Tamaki find out if he can manifest a pussy.

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pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader

warnings: dom!reader, sub!tamaki, food play (whipped cream, strawberries), tamaki with a pussy, strap-on, spreader bar, blindfold, handcuffs, cunnilingus (giving & receiving), praise kink (giving), choking (giving), pwp-ish

word count: 4,037

a/n: day two of kinktober. i’ve been waiting for m o n t h s for a tamaki fucker to write this prompt, but no one had, so I did it. I have no regrets in writing this other than not making tamaki call reader mommy/daddy some shit like tht, but oh well. enjoy! remember to comment of fics you like :D

main kink: food play

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You never believed that aphrodisiacs actually manipulated one’s ability to get in the mood.

It just never made sense to you.

A natural ability to get your blood pumping, the hormones in your veins screeching blasphemy, stopping at nothing until a warm, dull, yet unignorable ache settled in your bones? No, it just seemed too easy. Especially with all the different quirks and abilities in the world, it seemed unnatural for people to even seek natural ways to get horny.

But still, upon being questioned by none other than Nejire about if you had ever incorporated food into your sex life with your fiance, Amajiki Tamaki, it finally intrigued you.

It intrigued you so much that you couldn’t help but bring it up one night after he had come home after a long day of work. His bed ready body sinking into the mattress beside you where you lay, reading multiple different articles on the sciences and best aphrodisiac foods.

“What do you think about aphrodisiac foods?” came the inevitable question that passed through your lips as the man with soft raven hair pillowed into your side, his slitted pupil staring at you with mild intrigue, embarrassment, and exhaustion.

“They’re mostly unhelpful in battle,” Tamaki mumbles into your skin, the blush on the tips of his ears noticeable.

Despite the history between the two of you, knowing that your soon to be husband still blushed as easily as he once did (sometimes over nothing) made your chest warm. “If I had to eat one from that category, it would definitely have to be oysters and honey.” Tamaki settles on his words with a content sigh. You have to resist the guilty flush at the back of your neck at his innocence of your inquiry. “Oysters because of the shell, and honey makes for a great defensive item and trap,” he adds a bit afterward, his calloused fingers running up and down your stomach, a gentle way of coaxing you into laying down with him. “Why?”

“No reason,” you smile down at him, your head pressing down to press a kiss to his temple.

But, both of you knew you were lying.

However, truth or not, it would be the question that would lead both of you to this very moment.

Tamaki strapped to the bed, arms cuffed with black leather handcuffs, legs separated with a silver spread bar, eyes shielded from the world with a silk blindfold, and an arrangement of covered bowls sitting patiently around him, untouched, unused.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” you coo, your lips pressing gently to the insides of Tamaki’s trembling thighs.

There’s no response, just more trembling thighs, a slight shift in his back as he adjusts himself, but you continue to press warm, painted kisses against the inside of his thighs. Tamaki’s pitched breathing continues to push higher and higher, the small, unavoidable stutter in his voice hitched, almost hiccuping as he nods his head.

“Use your words, bunny,” you mumble against his skin. Pretty painted lips pressing trailing kisses up his thigh, your nose pressed into the crevice between his crotch and his thigh, delighting in the pure, unrestrained moan that falls from his mouth. He shakes underneath you, the growing needy noises of his unrestricted lust sending growing fires down towards your own cunt, singing blissfully about just how much he wants this. “I can’t move on until you use your words,” you try again, watching as his head nods pathetically, his bottom lip flushed red from his teeth assaults.

“T-This feels good,” Tamaki shudders, his body shaking under your change of movement, obviously liking how your lips press to the scars on his stomach, your fingers drawing lazy, imperfect circles around his cock head that’s weeping with precum. “I want more, butterfly, please g-give me m…ahhh... more!”

“What do you want more of?” you hum, your lips tracing up his chest, stopping against the popping vein on his neck, your teeth-baring softly onto the vein as he curses the gods upon the contact. Your hand circles around his cock, the ridiculously hot length throbbing against your hand, and with a breathy chuckle, you grip his cock at the base. "More teasing? More alone time? What does my little bunny crave?”

“Everything you p-promised!” Tamaki curses, hips thrusting upwards into your hands, rubbing blindly, desperately into your expecting fist as your tongue stripes up the length of his chin. “P-Please, butterfly, I want everything you told me what you would do!”

It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but you knew what to expect from Tamaki subbing. The growing wet patches on the blindfold emphasize that you couldn’t push too far, or else it would be over before it began.

“Which food would you like first?” you asked, deciding to push ahead, bringing the covered bowls to your side. You adjusted so that you were straddling his torso, smiling when he whimpered at the feeling of your hot cunt against his body.

“W-Whipped cream,” he breathed so quietly you almost missed it. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the small cylinder container and focused your attention on his light brown nipples and prominent collarbone.

“Whipped cream it is,” you tease, your head stretching down so that your lips pressed two painted and wet kisses over his hardened nipples, and the soft, sugary moan that passed his lips in result nearly made you abandon this entire scenario altogether.

This was just for initial contact, to wet his skin, you had to repeat in your head as your tongue flicked over his warm nipple, his hips snapping up into the abandoned air as you slinked forward to press light, intentioned kisses to his collarbone.

Right as his bitten ruby red lips opened to demand something more from you, you pressed the canister to his abandoned nipples and allowed the application of the sticky wet and white sugar onto his body. Your teeth continued to nibble on his collarbone as you did this, watching his every reaction — little and big — in an attempt to see just how much he liked it.

When you finally pulled away, you made sure to leave with a loud pop, smiling at the loud whine that escaped his lips when you sprayed the food against his collarbone.

“Imma lick it off now,” you explained, fingers raking just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps as you planted your ass onto his throbbing, hard cock. “Do you want to watch?”

“I d-don’t—” he hiccuped, breathing erratic, face dangerously red beneath the blindfold. “I don’t know!”

“Okay, no worries, bunny,” you coo, fingers stroking his wet cheeks. “I’ll let you test it out. I’ll lick the first one off without you looking, and you’ll tell me how you like it, okay?”

“T-That sounds good,” he agrees, and you waste no time.

Your mouth envelopes his sugar covered nipple, the sweet thickness of the cream being swallowed in your mouth as you push even further. Tamaki cries beneath you.

Humming, your tongue laps at the sticky sugar on his skin, the salty taste of his skin, and the sweet of the sugar invading your taste buds. You do your best to hold him down, your teeth taking his pebbled nipple in and tugging on it until the light brown color of his nipple turns red until he’s rutting senselessly and desperately into your clothed cunt.

Desperate and needy for more.

Your fingers dive beneath the breast of his chest, teasing the muscled valley as you continue lapping his nipple into overstimulation.

“The next one!” he wheezes. “P-Please, butterfly, the next tone!”

“Do you want to watch?” you ask, stupidly addicted to the way his nipple tastes in your mouth. “Wanna watch me suck your nipple?”

Tamaki shakes his head frustratedly, longingly, “I can’t, it’ll make me cum!”

You almost feel sorry for him.

You perform the same exact thing to his other nipple, teeth tugging at the sensitive skin, tongue swirling the throbbing skin in your mouth until he’s begging for something more, anything more. You sticky fingers taking his other swollen nipple, pinching and pulling it until he can only mantra your name. You wish you were strong enough to deny him, but the rutting against your covered cunt, the delicious sultry whines, and breathy moans and tears that stream down his face is too much for you.

You’re up off his torso, your fingers ripping off your panties with reckless abandon.

Tamaki’s breathing is heavy, almost delirious as your fingers tug down the silk blindfold, so it's fallen to his neck. It sits around his skin, wet and shiny. But Tamaki’s tear-soaked eyes are scrunched closed when your lips suddenly press to his.

Chapped, swollen, and hot lips quiver against yours, so nervously, so messily, you’re nearly kissing just his teeth.

“I needa—” he pants, his head tilting to that your nose meets his mouth. “I needa cum, butterfly, please.”

You hum, a bit disappointed in the relatively quick ending of your kiss, but you pulled away. Twisting around, your arm stretched out, and you went into an abandoned bowl. Tamaki watched you like a hawk.

With a hammering heart, and heat pulsating through your entire body, you turned your head to look at him. It was slow, methodic, and seductive, and Tamaki’s teeth found his bottom lip once again as you met his eyes through hooded eyes.

“Open up, bunny.”

Obediently, Tamaki’s mouth opened, and you brought your hand to his line of sight, and clutched between your warm fingers was a bright red strawberry covered in white, sweet cream. “Eat it quickly,” you drawl slowly as you press the strawberry to his lips, smiling slowly when the white cream covers his equally red lips. “I have an even better dessert after this.”

The gulp from his throat sent a maddening, delirious shiver down your spine.

And he devoured it without a moment of hesitation.

Licking the remaining cream on his lips, you giggled when he gasped against your tongue, and you moved.

Pushing up off the bed, you felt power thrum through you as his eyes darkened in lust and his still growing need as you gently pressed his forehead to the mattress. His breathing seemed to stop as the two of you stared at one another, like a prey looking eyes with a predator, knowing the inevitable outcome of the nearing events.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you tease, lowering yourself to his eagerly awaiting mouth.

The moan that poured through your spine was nearly immediate; the feeling of his cold tongue and wet lips pressing against your slick covered cunt was exhilarating as it was relieving. Your eyes instantly rolling to the back of your head when his strawberry coated tongue pushed through your swollen lips to lap at your pulsating core.

A breathless, whining sigh escaped your lips when Tamaki’s nose carted between your folds, the tip of his nose brushing against your sensitive clit, and you rotate your hips in your content.

“Yes, bunny, just like that. Eat my pussy just like that!” you cry in joy, your fingers pushing your breasts free from your bra to pull and tug at your attention-demanding nipples. “You eat me out s-so good, pretty little mouth, slutty little tongue.”

At the mention of slut, Tamaki moaned deep within you, his tongue vibrating in your core with his verbal appraisal, and your toes curled at the alluring sensation.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you began to rock your hips faster against his face, your chest puffing with pride when Tamaki’s hands banged against the restraints, a telling that he wanted to touch you, and the stupid, soft, needy gasps passed into your core only drove you on further. A whimper went through you when you leaned slightly forward, your clit unapologetically pressing against his nose, and the electric stimulation coursing through your body with that alone had your toes curling. And the pressure in your lower belly was only growing more and more.

His tongue continued to lap within you, the nearly greedy slurps he took with your growing aggressive rutting making you sing his name in praise and encouragement. Amajiki Tamaki was many things, and his ability to use that tongue was a higher skill of his you personally enjoyed.

“Taste so good,” Tamaki babbled from beneath you, his mouth latching onto your clit. “So, so good.”

It’s the moment his teeth sink against your clit that you slam forward, hand banging against the wall to steady you as an orgasm rips through you, the shriek on your tongue echoing off the wall.

All is silent for a bit as you roll off your fiancé's right side who is panting heavily, his eyes closed as he breathes in steadily, the shine of your slick on his face bright under the dim lights of the room. You blink as you stare at him, the serenity on his face from making you cum without a doubt the cause of it, but you weren’t done with this night.

Not yet.

“Bunny?” you whisper questioningly against his pointed ear, grinning slowly as the tip flushes red and goosebumps flash across his skin.

“Y-Yes?” Tamaki stammers, his eyes screwing tighter instead of opening.

A sugar-sweet giggle is unable to be stopped as you press forward, your teeth nibbling on his ear just hard enough that the sound Tamaki makes is a cross between throbbing lust and gently pain. He trembles as he does so, and you can’t help but swell in the thought that right now, especially as he shakes, he looks like a defenseless, needy bunny.

“I want to see you try it now,” you request, your left hand supporting your head, and your right hand tracing a single finger down his twitching abdominal muscles until it reaches his weeping cock. You grasp his throbbing cock firmly, contently studying the way he resists against his restraints as his back arched off the bed, hips blindly thrusting into your fist. “I want to see you manifest a pussy, bunny,” you nearly whine as your grip on his cock only tightens.

“A-Ah!” Tamaki cries, his face flushed a dark red. His hips instinctively rut up to your grasp, but you’re smart enough now, and you follow it, denying him the friction he so craves. “I-I-I can’t!”

“Why not?” you pout, drawing even closer to his blushing face, smirking when you could feel the pulsing blood in his face radiate off onto you. “Why won’t you try for me, bunny? I know you can do it! You’d look so cute with a pussy like mine, so tight, so wet, so… sweet.”

Tamaki splutters when your tongue swipes against his lips, and he still tastes of you and strawberries.

So sweet.

“Do it for me, bunny, I wanna see it…”

“W-What if I can’t?” Tamaki almost sobs, and you warm at his words.

“Then I’ll ride your cock until your cock is bruised, and I’m pregnant with your kids,” you promise, your lips pressing against his despite the obvious whimper on his tongue.

Then, you felt it.

The cock in your fist began to change. Warm energy emitting from where his cock once was as you pulled away from his quivering lips to look at the pretty pink pussy that manifested where his cock once was. It was void of pubes, looking as smooth as a baby’s butt, and was absolutely soaked.

If you thought you’d had heard the pitchiest squeak coming from Tamaki’s mouth before, it was nothing like this when he too took a look at his pussy.

“O-Oh my god,” he breathlessly whispers, and you feel a thrilling sensation rock through your entire body as you’re now much more focused on the gleaming cunt on your fiancés lower body.

In an almost trance-like feeling, you had the spreader bar in your fist and slammed it up to his face so that he could hold it. The simple action allowing Tamaki’s fully formed cunt to spread open for you in all its soaked glory. The smell of his sex alluring and almost spicy as you found your tongue shoved all the way into his awaiting cunt, and he howled.

A wordless command passed through your body as you let go of the cold spreader bar to Tamaki, who held it above his head as if it was his lifeline. You took sloppy, loud, and aggressive licks and sucks o his sweet essence, moaning at the copious amount of slick that easily poured from his cunt that throbbed like a vice around your tongue.

You wanted more from him, you craved more for him, and before you knew it, your fingers were curled above your tongue. You could feel the puffiness of his inner walls, and you delighted more when his clit against your nose throbbed with vivacity.

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki all but screams as you drunkenly drink his sweet essence, delirious on the taste and the sounds he was making. “My stomach — fuck, fuck, fuck — my stomach feels so funny! It’s feeling so-o aahhh, oh my god, so tingly!”

And you rip away.

Your eyes are owlishly large as you stare at the now writhing with discontent Tamaki who was crying with the unknowing need to cum.

He was close, you realized, so fucking close.

“Don’t leave me!” he shrieked as you tumbled off the bed, your legs feeling weak with your growing euphoria. “Finish what you started!”

A chuckle rips through your body as you pull up the harness that was hanging by the nightstand.

“Oh, I intend to, bunny.”

With a loud zipping of fabric, Tamaki’s head snapped upward to look at you, and you smiled knowingly.

His eyes were red and swollen with his tears, his face red as you’ve ever known, and his exposed cunt (which was still exposed as his hands pathetically still held onto the spreader bar) was soaking the bed with his essence, but he couldn’t even bear to feel embarrassed.

Why?

Well, strapped to your hips, and supported around your thighs was a pretty pink harness with a massive, veined, curved, cum spilling dildo attached to it.

“Do you like it?” you ask innocuously, your finger pressing to your bottom lip.

He can only gulp.

“I think,” you start off slowly, crawling back onto the bed to sit right before his exposed cunt. Your hands move to the cuffs on the spreader bar to slowly release his ankles from the restraints. “Well, I just love when you cum deep within me… and your cock is so big, so good, I just had to repay you for always fucking me so. fucking. good.”

“B-Butterfly!” he keens as you allow his legs to drop to the sides of you, and you sit up off your knees, placing the head of the dildo between his pink lips. His head falls to the mattress, his back arching as you continue to slick the dildo up with his dripping slick.

“Hm?” you answer, looking into his dark, glazed over eyes. Your hips, however, continue to shallowly thrust against the folds of his pussy, coating the pink silicone with shiny slick. A lazy smirk falls on your lips at the sight of his red face. “What do you want, Ta-ma-ki?”

“Fuck me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand guiding the head of the pink dildo into his pink, quivering cunt, and the other on his trembling thigh, you pushed through his tight entrance.

The moan that bubbled past Tamaki’s lips was near-pornographic as you as calmly as you could, pushed all the way in. You allowed Tamaki to adjust to the cock in his cunt, undoubtedly new to the sensation that having a thick, long cock buried deep within your cunt felt like. His hands, still bound to the headboard, were clawed in his sensual pleasure, and you enjoyed the way his eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

His hips twirled against the dildo, and you looked down, truly fascinated with the way his pussy squeezed around the strapon that you imagined as an extension of yourself. Imagining the sensation of his cunt against your strap, the heated slick of his cunt, and you felt your own heat blazing down your inner thighs.

“So cute, so pretty,” you purr, your hips falling back before softly thrusting back into him.

The sight of the dildo disappearing into his cunt is inconceivable, and despite his choking, gasping breaths, you pull out and thrust back in.

Again.

“Oh.”

Again.

“O-Oh my—”

Again.

“Y-Y/N!” Tamaki wailed as suddenly your hips were thrusting into him, delivering the pretty pink dildo all the way until you felt the natural barrier of his cervix. But you were hooked on this power. The dizzying sensation that boiled deep within your bloodstream as Tamaki thrashed beneath you.

Your fingers dug into his thighs, pressing his knees into the mattress as you pressed up, allowing for the new angles of gravity to help thrust down heavier, harder, faster.

“Such a sweet, perfect pussy,” you gasp against Tamaki’s sweaty, exposed neck. “You’re so good, bunny, so tight and cute around my cock. Do you like my cock? Do you like the way it feels to be stretched out like this? To be fucked to irrationality? This is how you make me feel all the time, bunny. You understand that I needed to repay you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tamaki cried, the babbling yes’s growing louder and continued as you continued to drill into him, the squelching of his pussy, and the slapping of your thighs on his ass coming together to play a symphony only the two of you would know.

His hiccuping sobs are stopped when your fingers blindly snatched a strawberry from the nearby bowl, shoving it within his mouth. You drink in the way the flesh of the berry breaks against his lips and the way he sloppily, almost pathetically eats it from your fingers. The sticky sweet red juices spill past his lips, dribbling down his chin as he attempts to eat it, and you lean forward, licking the juices that escape his mouth clean off his skin.

You trail up, kissing, licking, and biting every piece of unattended flesh, and with your fingers still in his mouth, you kiss him.

“My stomach!” Tamaki cries against your tongue and fingers. “It feels — r-right there — it feels tingly! Like it's on.. ahhh, on fire!”

“That’s a good thing, bunny,” you swear, your hips powerful, sharp, and delivering upon every fantastic dick down he had ever given you. Your free hand reaches for the blindfold that went ignored for so long around his neck, and with the renown power of being a pro hero, you tightened it around his throat, choking him of his mindless babbling, making him arch off the mattress. “That means you’re gonna cum, cum for me, bunny, cum. Cum and I'll fill you up with my cum too, you'll look so cute with my cum dripping from your cunt, wouldn't ya, bunny?”

And then, it happens, Tamaki’s teeth bite down on your fingers, eyes crossing and rolling to the back of his head. His body going rigid for a second before massive trembles shake through his entire body, and the unfamiliar whirring of the dildo informs you that it caught onto his orgasm. In return, it hums as fake cum spills from the dildo, splattering into Tamaki’s pretty pink cunt.

His body trembles as he collapses completely against the mattress, and you can only stare after him, your own breathing scattered and shallow as he seems to be transcending from his body as he lays there. Bliss painted in every corner of his body.

You move out, letting the massive dildo escape his tight cunt, and you’re pleased when the white cum slowly seeps from his slit.

It was then that you realized just how extremely lucky you were to be marrying someone like Tamaki, and you paused, thinking about just how many things the two of you could now do.

Oh yeah, this was definitely going to be a journey.

#tamaki x reader #tamaki smut #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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elleclairez · 3 years

Text

The Starless one and his star - Darkling x reader

Alina didn’t know what to do exactly. She sat silently in an armchair of her chambers in the Little Palace, her gaze focused on the figure of her worst enemy who decided that it would be a marvellous idea to torment her a little by playing tricks with her mind.

The Starkov girl knew that the Darkling wasn’t really there, but it certainly did not ease her worries in any way at all. The man on the other hand, silently stood, watching young Grisha train with Botkin through the window. No one could guess what was going on inside his head. Saints even he didn’t know why he chose to pay a visit to his enemy.

The silence in the room was heavy, almost unbearable for the young woman. She wanted to cry, shout and hit the man all at once and yet her body couldn’t move even a little. She was petrified and she couldn’t understand why. Was is fear? Hatred? Anger? Or was it something else stopping her from crying out for help or banishing the man from her mind herself?

The silence didn’t stop until the beautiful, silky voice of the Darkling resonated through the walls of the room.

“Have you ever heard of a young woman by the name of Seren Heijman?” Confusion flashed through Alina’s eyes. Seeing that the Shadow Summoner sighed and added “You might know her as the Star Saint. A bloody ridiculous name if you ask me.” The last sentence was muttered and Alina could barely hear it to properly decipher all the words. But as the words left the man’s mouth, the young Grisha suddenly had old memories of childhood stories crossing her mind. Alina could still remember the tales that Ana Kuya would tell them back at Keramzin. There was one story that Alina always adored, it was about a young, beautiful and selfless woman who chose death to save her comrades and the now long dead king.

“All I remember is that she died sacrificing herself to save the king and her friends. Let me guess she was Grisha too?” Asked Alina with her brows furrowed. Why would the Darkling talk about Saints with her?

“I always told you that those tales were propaganda for peasants. Seren was indeed Grisha, a powerful Inferni actually. And no, she did not sacrifice herself as everyone chose to believe. She was killed. Stabbed and left to die alone. Without anyone to save her or to at least be by her side when she would let go of her last breath.” Spat the Darkling with anger. Hatred could be deciphered from his eyes quite easily. It wasn’t hard to understand that this story was quite a sensitive topic for him, but Alina didn’t care. She was too curious as to why the man who was as heartless as a volcra would care so much about a mere woman and her unfortunate fate.

“You knew her didn’t you?” Carefully asked Alina too afraid of his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to anger her enemy. The Darkling chuckled.

“I did not know the martyr that people made of her against her will. I knew a young Kerch Inferni who was too good for this world.” And with those words, the Darkling pulled out a chain out of his pocket, and attached to it were two rings.

Two wedding bands.

While at court Alina was able to see many jewels but all of them paled in comparison to the beauty of those. It was no doubt Materialki work.

The first was a man’s ring, quite simple, black with silver engravings on it, but it was the second one that caught her eye. A silver ring with black engravings that were too small to be read but big enough to be visible. On top of it, three diamonds were placed. Two were small, white ones looking like stars and the third one in the middle seemed to represent a full black moon.

At the realization, the Sun Summoner gasped.

“You...” Words couldn’t form themselves. Never in a million years could she have guessed that the most heartless man could actually be married. But most importantly it seemed that the marriages was based on love, a feeling that Alina thought the Darkling could not feel.

“Yes, Alina. We were married and loved each other dearly. She was the only one for who I was ready to give the world to on my knees but even more, she was the only one for whom I was ready to give it up. The moment she would have said it, I would have given up everything. The Second army, Ravka, everything.” The Darkling paused to take a breath, eyes full of sadness and grief. “What people say is true. She was everything any person would want to be. Intelligent, beautiful, sarcastic, a real firecracker if you ask me.” At that the Darkling laughed a little, memories seemed to flash in his eyes. “Loving, brave and selfless and yet selfish enough to dream of a peaceful life with me, away from all the fighting. She was the only one that I needed, and yet she was still taken from me.” At those words the man’s fists clenched, knuckles white from tension, his eyes full of hatred and yet still held the same sadness as before. Alina could even feel herself pitying the man.

“What happened?” Almost shakily whispered the raven haired woman. She knew asking that would be dangerous, but she wanted to know what happened.

“The ancestor of our so lovely King Alexander desired her with all his body and could not bear the idea that she chose to marry me and decline his advances. So he did what many Lantsov men did as it seems, he tried to take her by force. But my Seren was powerful, something that the bastard forgot, she burned him but was kind enough to simply leave burns on his hands. She hoped that he wouldn’t approach her from then on but that man, if you can call him a man, was vengeful, so he sent her to Fjerda on a mission, as he said. I was away the day she was sent away, and I only found out a few days later. The moment I received the news I rushed to Fjerda as fast as I could but when I arrived at her camp, it was too late. All I found was dead Ravkan soldiers both otkasatsya and Grisha and when I found her tent I already knew something was wrong, I felt somehow felt it. And there she was in her tent, laying on the ground, eyes blank, a single dried tear on her cheek, the spark that I used to adore in her beautiful orbs, gone. She laid there, on the floor, in a pool of her own blood and all I could do was to stand there, paralysed with this raging urge to destroy the monster who did that to her.” A deathly silence succumbed the room, Alina did not know what to say, and she became even more speechless when she saw a tear run down the Darkling’s cheek. He didn’t look so terrifying anymore but more like the young man that Baghra so desperately tried to save. “From that day I promised myself that I would avenge her. That I would take over Ravka and destroy every person who would think of hurting my and her people, of hurting Grisha people.”

“Make me your villain, Alina Starkov. But even you should see right now that I am not the villain but only the victim. The one who lost too much by the hands of others.” Alina didn’t know what to say, how could she respond after such story? Was she even supposed to respond? Was he even saying the truth? It wouldn’t be a surprising for her that the Darkling was simply playing tricks on her, again.

As if reading her mind, the Shadow Summoner said. “If you don’t believe me, there is proof in a secret drawer of my desk, well your desk now should I say, in the war room, go see for yourself.” At that the Darkling’s figure started to disappear, but Alina had one more question.

“Wait!” The Darkling looked at her expectantly. “I know not all tales are true, but some said that... she was...” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Because if those stories were indeed true then the Darkling would be even less of a monster.

A dark chuckle left his mouth, he knew what she was trying to say. “We were going to name them Elizaveta if it were a girl or Piotr if a boy.” And with those words the man disappeared.

Alina didn’t even notice how tears escaped her eyes but a few minutes later she found herself in the war room, opening the same drawer that the Darkling talked about.

It was a portrait. An old, small and dusty but still very well-kept one.

On it was painted a young couple, dressed in wedding attires, those same rings on their fingers. Smiles and eyes full of love, so bright that even the painting couldn’t dull the sparkle that they had while looking at each other.

At the bottom of the portrait Alina was able to decipher the writing.

“Seren and Aleksander Morozova. The Starless One and the Star”

Hope you liked this angsty Aleksander x reader one-shot. Had this idea since I saw the trailer (which is INCREDIBLE by the way) and gotta be honest I literally wrote all of this during my philosophy class because it was better than falling asleep...

If you have a request don’t hesitate to send me a message. You can find all the fandoms I write for in my bio, but I warn you that it may take a little while for me to write it because I’ve been a lot of writer’s block lately....

Ps: Hello! This is me again from the future or present (depends on how you see it). Just wanted to say that I edited the story a little. Again English is not my native language, so there may be some mistakes that I’ve missed, do not hesitate to comment if you see one. Again I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did go check my other ones 😉

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chosenimagines · 3 years

Text

Move in love (Kendall Knight)

Universe: (D) Big Time Rush Summary: Reader moves to L.A. to become a famous actress and lives with her big brother and his friends Used Prompts: - Warnings: - Language: English

Request: Yes/No

Requested by JulzLovDraco4Eva (from Wattpad) The request was so long that I don’t want to put you guys through this.

Requests [Open]

A/N: My requests are open on Wattpad and Tumblr

🖊️ 🖊️ 🖊️

️____________________________________________

The conversations of the people passing by mixed into a single, loud noise. I pulled my suitcase over the dirty floor of the airport. Tired and totally annoyed, I walked myself and my luggage through the free space between the travelers. It had taken six hours instead of three and a half hours to fly from Minnesota to L.A. I had been on the road for nine damn hours and I just couldn't do it anymore! I always found travelling to be incredibly strenuous. In Minnesota it was already 9 pm, but not in stupid L.A!

It was 7 pm - theoretically time for dinner. That's why I wouldn't escape the hustle and bustle that I would be exposed to as soon as I found my brother in this hustle and bustle. After all, it was "too early" to lay down. Once again I stopped moaning. That had become my signature move today! Searching, I looked around - without result. Where was he? He had promised me that he would pick me up directly in the entrance hall as soon as I landed. Well... Maybe he had forgotten me! I picked up my travel bag again, took the handle of my suitcase and continued my way through the hall. Probably my brother was chilling with his friends - or his so called second family - by the pool. I couldn't blame him! It was quite hot in Los Angeles today, which you could only endure in the water. I would be alone- "Hey, little sister!" "LOGAN!" A dull bang accompanies my scream. I had dropped my travel bag. Logan embraced me. "You didn't seriously think I had forgotten you!" he chuckled softly. But the accusation resonated in his voice. "Maybe for a tiny moment...", I murmured. "You are unbelievable! That I missed you, Stupid.", Logan indignantly said, and I grinned at him as I gave him a slap in the back of the head. "And how he missed you! Logan has counted the days until you move!" Involuntarily, my fingers clawed into Logan's shirt. Kendall! Kendall Knight was here. At the airport. To pick me up. Mein Herz beat at an incredible speed. God help me! Why does this happen every time? every. cursed. be. I hated it! I hated that feeling because they were connected to a thought! He didn't feel the same... I quickly pushed this thought aside, because tears rose in my eyes. Today was not a day to cry, because today began a new phase of my life, which I was already incredibly looking forward to!

"Don't look so angry! I promise you will like the surprise." Who believes it! I rolled my eyes. "The last time you told me that, I was doused with paint and ended up in the newspaper, James.", I replied. James shook his head laughing. "You should get over it! Plus, we've all planned it, so you don't have to be afraid of color." Suspiciously, I look around and changed the subject. "What do we do in a park?", I demanded to know. "Because we picnic, stupid!" I would recognize this voice among thousands. "Katie, I missed you the most of all!" I said as I embraced her during the boys' protests. "Not true! You missed Kendall more." Inconspicuously, I cuddled them. Her big brother was not far from us. Katie knew about my feelings, but she liked to play on risk, whereby it was only calculable risks. I gave her a brief, evil eye, while she just grinned at me. Katie liked that I liked Kendall and she dropped obvious clues before Kendall. "Sit down, Y/N!", Mrs Knight offered me. We took a seat on the ceiling and started to whose. I got a feeling of homeliness! It was almost like we were in Minnesota.

"Too early...", I murmured. I rubbed my eyes. "Way too early!" Tired, I leaned against Carlos. James and Logan giggled softly while Carlos clumsy patted my head. "If you want to work as an actress, you should get used to earlier times of the day. You can ask Camille!" said Logan. He grinned broadly at me. "Who is Camille?", I nuzzled as I broke away from Carlos' shoulder and the five of us entered Roque Records. I threw at Logan a quick glance. I could have sworn that his cheeks turned pink. "She's my girlfriend!", he said quickly. His pace also accelerated, causing trouble for us to keep up with him. I may had hit a nerve! Now I decided to stick with that, but it was far from over! Logan could be sure that I wanted to know everything about Camille and wanted to know him. He hadn't mentioned a girl he liked. According to his reaction, she had to be special- "Who is she, what does she want here AND WHY IS THERE A STRANGER IN MY STUDIO?!" That had to be Gustavo Roque and the guys hadn't exaggerated! But Gustavo really had to be experienced for yourself. An unique personality... "Gustavo, don't get upset, because she's not a stranger!", Kendall began cautiously. His attempt to appease him had no effect. But nothing changed in the facial expressions of the producer. I would probably have to leave, sooner than I thought. "WHO is she then?!" "My little sister.", Logan interfered. At first Gustavo got the words stuck in his throat. Then Gustavo's assistant Kelly interfered, if I hopefully remembered the name correctly. "And of course your sister can stay here today!", she promised with a certain tone. Then she shook my hand. "I'm looking forward to meeting you! I'm Kelly." I smiled. "Y/N." After a short handshake, Kelly shied away from the four of them into the studio. "We have to start now!" Startled, the boys ran away. This made me laugh and I followed Kelly to listen to the rehearsal.

Someone behind me cleared their throat. Frightened, I winced and whirled around. Kendall! I didn't expect him. I had believed that he had gone with Logan, James and Carlos. Without saying a word, I stared at him. I had to look stupid! Still, I couldn't move. Kendall had a strange effect on me! It was like that to have feelings for someone. "Sorry, Y/N! I didn't mean to scare you. But..." Kendall's voice was lost. Again he cleared himself. "Can we talk for a moment?", he wanted to know. I nodded incapacitated to put out a single word. Kendall pulled out a stool from under the sound mixer and told me to sit down. "Thank you!" He himself took a seat on the black leather couch opposite me. "I noticed that you were watching me during the rehearsal and I want to know why? Did I sing crooked or was I not in time? Was I that bad?" Horrified, I opened my eyes. How did Kendall come up with the idea?! That was completely absurd! Simply absurd! I loved nothing more than listening to Big Time Rush sing. I really couldn't think of anything better than listening to these four guys sing! Especially Kendall. Kendall's voice was the most beautiful of all. "Are you serious? Please tell me this is a joke! If so, it wasn't funny. You were in time and your voice is just beautiful! How did you come up with this idiotic idea?", it burst out of me. "You looked at me all the time and I thought it was because I'm so bad." "Even if you were bad, I wouldn't even notice it because you're the most perfect person I know and my feelings for you romanticize everything about you anyway!" Silence. The room was filled with silence. Only in my head there was noise! The thoughts overturned and tried to drown each other out. The voices agreed on one thing! I immediately wanted to sink into the ground. "And I already believed you can't stand me. But that makes everything easier, because I like you too. And very much so!" Were my ears broken? "Come again?" Now Kendall seemed to be unsettled. Nevertheless, he repeated what had told me. "Thank God! I already thought I had to leave the country", I said. Kendall laughed. "Please, don't do that! Otherwise, it might make the following a little more difficult." Confused, I looked at him. What did that mean? "Y/N Mitchell, do you want to be my girlfriend?" "Stupid question, Knight! What girl wouldn't like that to be?" Again he laughed. "There is only one who gets this opportunity." When had we come so close to each other? There was no longer any space between us. Kendall's fingers gently brushed over my heated cheeks. "And I really hope she says yes but I am still waiting for an answer. Slowly I'm scared!" I stood on the tips of my toes and breathed a kiss on his cheek. "You don't have to be afraid, because I say yes."

#big time rush #btr #kendall schmidt #kendall knight #big time rush ff #one shot #imagine #btr imagine #btr one shot #kendall knight fanfic #kendall knight os #kendall knight imagine #requested #requests are open

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drmmyrs · 3 years

Text

Remember Me (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hiii I’m back. Sorry again for the delay 😬I had such a hard time writing the ending so thank you so much @samanthadalton for all your help 😘Also, a big thanks to M anon for their suggestions and song request which I used some of.

tag list: @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs @doey-eyes8 @itszdavenport (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2289

It's been an hour since Emily last came into my room to remind me of my doctor's appointment. And it's been about thirty minutes since I've been ready to go, physically at least. Naturally, I tried to get Chris to come with me instead because he's my boyfriend, right? Ughh fine, ex-boyfriend. But can you blame me, though? How am I suppose to move on when I literally have no memory of some sort of breakup or closure? I stare at the dull beige-colored ceiling, a view which has me panicking in the mornings right after I wake up, before I remember that I don't live at the sorority house anymore. I then close my eyes and get comfort in the memories I have left, my only anchor on the reality I knew, away from this freakish place with the people I don't even give a shit about.

After a couple more minutes, I begrudgingly get up with a groan and trudge downstairs, finding Emily waiting on the couch. She smiles upon seeing me, but I don't return the gesture, being genuinely annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an incessant amount of time with her. So instead, I walk past her towards the door, my heels clattering on the wooden surface. Emily then follows behind me from a distance, careful not to invade my space. Once outside, I walk straight towards the passenger door of Emily's junk of a car, grabbing the handle as I glare at Emily impatiently, waiting for her to unlock it. As soon as unlocked, I sink into the seat, slamming the door close harder than I intended. Emily, though, takes a second before going in, eyeing the seat suspiciously as if it might shatter anytime. Once seated, she places her hand on the gear stick, slightly trembling. And then it dawns on me, I may have forgotten about the accident, but it's probably still fresh from her memory, terrorizing her at every reminder. All this time, I've been complaining about how unfair everything is for me, not once considering how it may have affected her.

"Who was driving?" I ask. It may not be the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know.

I see Emily flinch at the question, and before she even opens her mouth, I know. She looks out the windshield, her voice cracking when she replies, "I was."

I nod. My mom told me it was a drunk driver running a red light that hit us, so I don't blame her at all, not anymore.

"Is it–" The words come out sharp, so I stop and soften my voice. "Is it the first time you drove since?"

Emily doesn't reply immediately; instead, she shifts the gear and steps on the gas pedal as we begin to make our way towards the hospital. She grips the steering wheel tightly, anxiously looking at the road, her eyes obsessively sweeping for any oncoming traffic at every intersection.

"No. No it's not but..." Emily trails off, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

But it's her first time to drive with me in the car. I turn my head to look out the window, knowing full well I can't ease her fears. How can I when I'm the living reminder of everything she lost?

---------

I immediately regret my outfit choice as soon as we get into the waiting room, the frigid temperature biting at my skin, sending sharp pains like that of a needle across my exposed skin. I try to play it cool, but a shiver escapes my body, desperate for any source of heat. A few seconds later, a jacket appears in front of me, held by Emily who is wearing an annoyingly cute little smile on her face. I mumble thanks and take the jacket, placing it over my shoulders, smelling the scent of lavender as I bask in the comfort of heat.

I take out my phone and browse my socials, catching up on all the events I missed–or forgotten–while ignoring the get well soon messages from both people I know and don't know that have been piling up ever since the accident. A few minutes later, the doctor calls my name, and as I stand up, Emily does as well but then sits back down almost immediately, clearly unsure if her company is welcome.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

---------

After a useless consultation–apparently, they can't do much to help me regain my memories–Emily suggests we stop by an ice cream parlor not far from here. I assent, but only because I need the comfort of a sugary snack right now, and it's been ages since I had one, or at least I think so.

We reach a store I don't recognize, replacing an office space that, while I never paid attention to before, was a pleasant fixture in my reality, not this... eyesore. I shake my head; I can't keep living in the past. I follow Emily into the store, reminding myself that this is my reality now.

Inside, the floor is patterned with alternating pink and black tiles, and the walls are coated with somewhat fresh pink paint adorned with decors that scream ice cream as if one might stumble into the shop looking for lunch or something.

"Welcome t–ah Emily and Becca! I haven't seen you girls in a while."

I turn around to see a guy, probably in his mid-twenties– smiling at us like... I shoot Emily a side-eye. She, of course, fails to mention that the guy working here is buddy-buddy with me. So, is this the kind of couple we were? Those who frequent an ice cream parlor enough to be on a first-name basis with the ice cream guy? I internally groan in disgust at the thought.

"–Becca." I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my name. Emily and the ice cream guy are looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry I didn't hear," I mumble.

"You'll be having strawberry, your usual, correct?" says the guy with a wide smile.

I do want strawberry, but I shake my head and say, "Vanilla," just to spite him, annoyed how some stranger knows my favorite ice cream flavor.

"Ooh, trying something new today, are we? One rocky road and vanilla coming right up," he announces in an annoyingly high pitch voice. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask, which is met by a look of confusion followed by a laugh.

"You know wh–"

Emily quickly interjects, "The bathroom's there, Becca," pointing at a door at the back of the store.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, heading straight towards the mirror. I stare at my reflection, nitpicking every tiny detail that has changed throughout the years, changes I don't recognize at all. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I'm Rebecca fucking Davenport; I don't cry. I grip the sink tightly, overcome with a new resolution. I know who I am; they don't, convincing myself more than anyone else.

Once finishing up in the bathroom, I head back outside, noticing a different aura in the room. Emily is holding our orders with an apologetic look while the ice cream guy regards me with pity, something I've grown used to in the past few weeks. I take my ice cream from Emily, not meeting her gaze, and walk out of the store, striding ahead of her towards the car, not once looking back.

--------

On the ride home, silence weighs heavily between us as Emily bites at her lower lip, either contemplating what to say or waiting for me to go off on her. After an awkward amount of time, Emily finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I–"

"Forget about it," I cut her off, too exhausted to engage with her. I think about the previous encounter, wondering if that would be my norm. Unfamiliar people coming up to me, sharing inside jokes and anecdotes while I stare blankly at them, wondering if I should explain my situation or just ignore them, being the bitch I know I am. I stare out the window, seeing all the changes in the city, musing about the memories I may have had alongside them, memories that I may or may not recover. It's as if an impostor had been living my life for the past two years, and now I'm forced to follow in their footsteps. It's obvious I had changed a lot during those years, my previous enemies becoming my closest friends, my greatest rival supposedly becoming the love of my life. Was she the love of my life? Was I happy with Emily?

It's already dark outside when we arrive home. I notice a few cars parked down the road, something unusual considering this is the only house for at least a couple of blocks. What do I know, though, it's not like I remember much about this place. I turn my attention back to the house; the lights inside are turned off, leaving a lone street lamp and the car's headlights as the primary sources of light, accentuating the jagged grey bricks of the house, almost giving an appearance of something sinister. This is ridiculous; I chide myself for being scared of a stupid house.

Emily walks ahead towards the door while I follow a few steps behind. As soon as I walk inside, the light turns on, and I'm greeted by a chorus of surprise echoing throughout the house, coming from people whom I only recognize half of. I stare at them blankly, unimpressed but just mostly confused. My mother walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"Happy birthday, sweetie."

Birthday? I inconspicuously look at my phone. Huh. I could've sworn I've seen the date today at least a few times. A few moments later, Emily steps forward with a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday babe," she says, immediately followed by a look of horror. "Becca. Sorry."

Of course Emily had planned this. It doesn't really matter if I wanted to have a stupid party. She had to go ahead and decide for me.

"Go ahead and blow out the candles," my mom urges.

I blow out the candles, faking a smile for my mom. As much as I want to storm into my room, I'm not about to break my mom's heart by causing some unnecessary drama.

--------

Just a few moments into the party, and I'm already exhausted–people lining up to greet me, asking how I've been doing since the accident. I realize that most people here don't know about my condition, which means I have had to engage in quite a few conversations about the things I've supposedly been doing for the past few years, things I have no recollection of, to which I gave vague answers to avoid having to explain everything.

I down my fourth glass of virgin cuba libre, eyeing the display of alcohol with contempt, resentful that I can’t drink because of the medicine I took earlier, when Zack drags me across the room to play some truth or dare with a bunch of people, some of whom I don't recognize. Thankfully, if there was one thing the sorority has taught me, it's that you don't have to know someone to ask the right questions or expertly avoid the common ones. That is of course until someone asks you the most unexpected question.

"Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

I stare at them blankly, fumbling for words. Wedding?

"I–I–"

But before I can make up an answer, Kaitlyn arrives with Emily in tow, and that's when I notice it, the ring on Emily's finger. I gasp for breath, feeling like the air is taken out of my lungs. And I almost don't notice it when Kaitlyn takes out her guitar and starts singing, joined by the others.

When all the tears are rolling down your face And it feels like yours was the only heart to break When you come back home and all the lights are out And you're getting used to no one else being around

Oh, oh, I'll be there

I look at the unfamiliar faces, singing their hearts out, gazing at me fondly. I then turn my gaze to Emily's ring finger, and sitting on it is a small but glistening diamond and part of me chastises myself for not noticing earlier. I feel the entire room’s eyes on me and suddenly, it becomes too much for me to withstand. I stand up, scrabbling to go to my room, footsteps following behind me. Once I got on the stairs, Emily shouts my name from behind, and I stop at the sound of her voice, turning around.

"We were engaged? Why didn't you tell me?" My voice comes out harsher than expected and it seems to take Emily by surprise too because she just stands there motionless, speechless. “Marriage is a big thing Emily, that’s not something you can just conveniently not tell me.” I let out a frustrated groan, momentarily letting the anger wash all over me before I’m left with a bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sick of having random people tell me things about my life which I can’t even remember when my own fianc–” I stop, not even being able to say the word, shaking my head as the agony brought by my predicament proves to be too much. “I can’t do this. I'm sorry," I croak before running towards my room, slamming the door behind me. I then curl myself in bed as the tears fall freely.

#becca #becca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman series #playchoices #my work #my writing #my fanfics #request

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cherrysung · 4 years

Text

lesson learned

pairing: nerd!jaemin x reader

genre: smut / slight fluff

warnings: language, unprotected sex (stay safe!), riding, thigh riding, grinding, finger sucking, dirty talk, slight degradation

prompts: none

summary: tinted cheeks and sheepish glances might’ve been a delight to observe every time his eyes scanned intellectual phrases on books, but as your words reached dangerous levels, you realized not all is what it seems.

requested by anon.

word count: 2.5k

note: anonnie... I think I got carried away with this a lil bit, oops. I hope you enjoy this though, thank you for requesting! jaemin with glasses is superior oof

cherrysung’s navigation

Na Jaemin. Pink cheeks and flushed neck and ears, thin-rimmed glasses that rested peacefully on the bridge of the most perfect nose you’d seen, and his sharp eyes that appeared narrow and hooded as they scanned over way too complicated words that showed up unnecessarily in fiction books.

He wasn’t the stereotypical nerd, in fact, he quite honestly debunked endless labels and beliefs that people like him had endured for years. Unlike portrayed in movies or anywhere else, Na Jaemin was impressingly handsome if you said so yourself. Masculine yet soft features adorned the smooth of his skin like a freshly painted artwork, facial structure built with a jawline that you’d mistake to be carved out by the gods themselves if you didn’t know any better, and an overall physique that even the most athletic guys at college envied. How come the school’s certified nerd was also the biggest hottie? Pair that up with a well-mannered and gentle personality—you get the sweetest boy at heart.

Conservative and reserved most of the time, with his second home being the local library, Jaemin was almost always indulged in some sort of imaginary world. Although popular for his looks, nobody dared approach him, as everybody knew how much he overflowed with shyness, and even oftentimes unintentionally blocked out the social souls that made an effort to utter a word to him.

It didn’t come as a surprise that his grades were also astronomically A+ class and more. There was no need for him to search with concern over universities and a promising education, because unlike you, they actually chased after him. On the other hand, though you did an okay job at even the most challenging subjects, it wasn’t enough to you or to your demanding and irritable parents. Given that, your teacher thought that if you really wanted to improve, getting Jaemin assigned as a tutor seemed like a perfect idea.

Indeed; it was.

Somehow the smartest and quietest senior also turned out to be picky. His looks weren’t the only thing he was popular for—his constant declines on those who wished desperately for his help was too. To say you were shocked that he agreed to lend you a hand, was an understatement.

You officially met Jaemin on a Monday afternoon when the bell rang loudly throughout the empty halls and students escaped tiredly the dull classrooms as if they were prisons. Your calculus teacher called you and the boy over to her wooden, polished desk, where piles of papers that were filled with red marks stacked up. Jaemin carried himself gracefully at all times, dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt with black shoes, you genuinely wondered how such a simple outfit suddenly looked expensive. Not only did his clothes seem to be put together, so did his life in general. He would never miss a day of college even if destiny wanted him to, and his schedule was so precise you felt like an absolute shame next to him.

“Mr. Na Jaemin,” the teacher cleared her throat, hands twirling a red-inked pen between her fingers as she smiled at the boy standing next to you. “At this point, I don’t know why I bother with you anymore, you always seem to decline. But, I thought I should ask you if you were up to helping your fellow classmate over here. She surely has potential, but is clearly struggling.”

You shifted nervously on your feet, cheeks becoming a faint tint of rosy red as your teacher slid over your calculus test towards Jaemin. It read D+. Nearly the entirety of the front page was marked in red, multiple comments explaining why your answers were wrong and circles pointing out your hideous mistakes all for a genius to judge.

His eyes skimmed over your answers, a smile threatening to creep up on his pink lips at just how ridiculous and senseless your processes could get. “I see. Yeah, she seems to have an idea of the topics but probably gets confused easily.”

Ouch.

“Well, would you do me the favor of maybe tutoring her every week for, say, a month?”

He glanced down at you for a split second, gaze returning back to the test in his hands as fast as he had looked away from it. His words sounded direct, leaving his lips with security and firm knowledge; yet, you were sure you could feel his timidity from classrooms away.

“Sure.”

Two weeks later, Jaemin had been tutoring you patiently, sharing his knowledge and tips as best as he could. You discovered, conversational skills and socializing definitely weren’t Jaemin’s specialty, his words spilling from his lips in stumbles and stutters that sounded adorable nonetheless. Contrary to the way he spoke whenever you casually asked him something about him—whether it be his personality, where he’s from, the things he enjoys—to the way his sentences flowed flawlessly whenever he was explaining how a math problem worked, was intriguing to you.

There was something about him that felt new, and mysterious. He was introverted, quite protective of his surroundings and himself; though, somehow the way his middle finger elegantly pushed his spectacles up a tiny bit, and the way his hand occasionally brushed with yours whenever he turned to a new page on your alarmingly huge calculus textbook was doing things to you.

“So, Jaemin,” you interrupted him, his head rising up in question at your sudden intrusion, hand holding a pencil he had been using to point out esencial steps for Definite Integrals. The two of you were currently sitting at your study desk in your bedroom, home alone on a slightly rainy Friday evening, with papers lying around the table and the floor that had infinite math practice tests he had obligated you to do. “How are you so good at calculus. Well, everything, honestly?”

The tip of his ears flushed a deep shade of pink at your indirect compliment, visibly swallowing as his Adam’s apple swiftly moved up and then down. “Uh, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always practiced a lot as a kid? Maths is my favorite subject so it’s not hard for me…”

His attention was never on you, instead, his eyes shifted awkwardly as long as they successfully avoided your own. You were enjoying his confusion more than you’d like to admit, collecting your thoughts and speaking up once again before he returned to explaining boring equations or graphs. “Why’d you agree to help me? You never help.”

He wordlessly shrugged, hand scratching the back of his head with what appeared nervousness as his eyes solely rested on the paper before him and the paper alone. You thought his face became progressively warmer, a light smile etching across your face. “Are you sure you don’t know?” You glanced at him, turning your chair around to face his side profile directly. “I think there must be a reason.”

“There’s none.” He muttered through gritted teeth, the apple of his cheeks becoming impossibly redder by the minute. “Let’s move on to the next topic—”

“Oh, but are you sure there really is no reason at all? ‘Cause you seem to be hardcore blushing right now.” Your finger moved under his chin, gently guiding his eyes towards yours. “Am I the reason for your obvious struggle, Na Jaemin? Do you, maybe, have the hots for me?”

“Y/N, just—you need to, uh, continue practicing.”

“I don’t want to practice anymore.” A giggle left your lips, face nearing the boy’s hot ears. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I think you are so handsome, and I can tell you like me too. Or don’t you?”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you, Jaemin?”

A quiet curse rumbled throughout his chest and out his lips, hands quickly snapping up to grasp your own. “You really don’t want to bother me right now. Stop.”

“I do want to bother you. I know you’re not some innocent, saint boy, Jaemin. Stop putting up that pure act with me, it’s not working.”

“Alright,” Jaemin mumbled, eyes sharply boring into yours, “then you asked for it.” He roughly pulled you towards him, your wheeled chair sliding back at the impact as your legs almost instantly straddled him. With no more words said, his hands softly kneaded your ass, pressing his hardening member directly on your heat as he began rapidly guiding you up and down his covered length.

Whimpers stumbled off your lips at his movements, hands flying up to hold onto his shoulders for balance. Quite frankly, you never thought Jaemin would do this.

“Cat got your tongue suddenly, princess?” Your breath hitched at the pet name, and Jaemin could only smirk at your reaction. “You were all talk and no game? Where did that confidence go? You are such a needy, little bitch. Be a good girl and ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are—wanting to fuck me instead of practicing your math equations.”

He parted his legs, and you were quick to take off your shorts, sitting on the textured fabric of his denim jeans as your hips continued their previous ministrations with Jaemin’s harsh grasp. Moans were leaving you in an uncontrollable mess, feeling so little and helpless under a boy’s gaze whom everybody believed is a harmless child. There was a look plastered on his features that you wanted engraved in your mind forever; pearly whites sinking tenderly into a swollen, red bottom lip, glasses hanging lowly on his nose, and a hooded stare due to the growing wetness on your sheer panties that seeped out onto his jeans.

Fuck, did those glasses make him look so sinful.

“Jaemin,” you stuttered, “I need to cum.”

“Already? We just started the fun, princess.” His actions contradicted his words, hands moving your hips faster on his thigh as he squeezed the muscles, igniting louder sounds of pleasure from you. “Are you close?”

You nodded frantically, no longer giving care to the huge wet patch you had created on his pants, allowing his hands to move you as fast as he wished, pussy clenching around nothing every time your clit ran over the coarse fabric.

“Go ahead, princess, come all over my thigh, you fucking dirty girl. Make a mess.”

His whispers were enough to bring you to your climax, legs shaking unstoppably as your hips stilled abruptly. Jaemin rubbed your back softly, bringing your chin up to lock lips with you. Ardent, and full of lust, the feeling of his tongue running over your bottom lip brought another wave of heat that pooled between your legs, and he could surely feel it. Pulling away, with a string of saliva attaching the two of you, Jaemin unbuckled the leather belt before unbuttoning his jeans, only pushing them down enough to release his dick. It sprung proudly out of his briefs, gently hitting his belly and begging to be played with.

Jaemin smirked at your wide eyes, your gaze running up and down the veiny cock, with a final touch of an angry and red tip at the top that was leaking with pre-cum.

“Can I suck you?”

“Not today, babygirl, do that some other time,” he shook his head, fingers moving your panties to the side and placing you on top of his hard length, “right now all I want is to feel your dripping, pretty pussy. Ride me.”

You silently obliged like the good girl he thought you were, wet cunt sinking on his dick as your walls instantly welcomed him with endless warmth.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he lowly cursed, “such a fucking good girl. Why don’t we teach you some basic math while you ride my dick? Come on.” His index and middle fingers tapped your bottom lip, your mouth wrapping around them. “You’re going to answer while you suck on my fingers as if it were my cock.”

On cue to his words, your tongue swirled around his digits experimentally while he ruthlessly thrusted up into your tight pussy with a never ending pace.

“What’s seven plus five, princess?”

You whined on his digits, finding the task harder than you expected as his dick was everything you could think about. Jaemin filled you up so well, fingers occasionally driving into the back of your throat as you choked around them. Tears had begun pooling in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment as you gagged around his digits once again. “Twelve!”

“Good job,” he delivered a particularly hard thrust, hitting on your sweet spot successfully and earning himself nearly a scream from you. “What about eighteen plus nine? What’s the answer?”

At this point, he was doing all the work, dick sliding in and out of your walls so fast and deliciously. The only sound you could hear around your bedroom was both your skins’ slapping, and sometimes the choked up cries that left your lips whenever his fingers reached too far back in your throat. Your thoughts only revolved around how good Jaemin was fucking you, and how good the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose looked as he bit his lip. “Twenty-seven!” You struggled to answer, but managed to regardless of his merciless thrusts.

“Four minus nineteen? You got three seconds to answer, sweets.” Jaemin smirked, free hand reaching down to circle rapidly around your clit, his hips speeding up even more. “One.”

“Jaemin, I’m so close!”

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drool running down your chin as he wiped his digits on his shirt. “Answer me, or you don’t come.”

Your thoughts were absolutely jumbled, puzzled and confused, searching hazily for a simple answer you couldn’t remember.

“Two.” The movements of his fingers on your swollen bud were beginning to slow down.

“Jaemin, wait!”

“Three—”

“Negative! Negative fifteen, the answer is negative fifteen.”

He cooed at you, speeding up his actions once more as you cried out, head resting on his shoulder tiredly while you slightly bit into the flesh, eliciting hisses that flew from his lips.

“Fuck, I’m so close. Princess, can I fill you up with my cum?”

“Please,” tears ran down your face, your cries muffled as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “please do. Come inside of me, Jaemin, fill me up so well.”

Your desperate pleads and the frantic clenching of your pussy were enough to bring him to the edge, your release following not much long after as his warm cum completely coated your walls white, some seeping out from your cunt and onto his member. Jaemin eventually slowed down his thrusts to a stop, chest heaving up and down as pants left the two of you.

“For your information, I do have the hots for you, too.” He exhaled out a laugh, pulling your body closer to his and gently pecking the top of your head.

“I can’t believe everybody calls you a nerd,” you chuckled, “you literally fucked me into oblivion.”

“Well, you were riling me up. I hope you learned your lesson, little miss.”

“Yeah, I did.” You admitted with a giggle.

“Well, you better keep that pretty mouth closed, we don’t want people knowing the school’s nerd wrecked you so bad, right? Besides, I don’t think I want this to just be a one time thing.” Your head rose at his confession, eyes looking into his own for an answer. “How about a date tomorrow?”

You smiled, sweetly pecking his cheek. “I’d love that. How about I suck your cock after that?”

Jaemin smirked, “your house or mine?”

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