#he looks so light and pink and powdery here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

2neaky · 10 days

Text

Any Means Necessary.3

Stalker!Ony x Black!Reader

Onyankopon's growing obsession with Y/N, a young woman he happened to stumble upon in his city, leads him to a spot right outside of her bathroom window. He's a peeper, but he's got no shame.

Part 1, Part 2

7.5k words! Not rlly edited

Warnings: MDNI, nonconsensual stalking, nonconsensual m*sturbation to Y/N (Y/N is unaware of it), obscene & highly descriptive language, explicit s*xual content, mention & use of a s*x toy, an*l & an*l play, p*netration (p in v), dubious consent, breathplay, slight possessiveness, c*rvix kissing, an unrealistic amount of fluids (or maybe it is realistic, who knows), unprotected s*x (don't do this), use of outdated term "clean" to describe the status of one's s*xual health

Banners by @rookthornesartistry & @chaeneuu

Tag list: @simpingfor-wakasa @ciaqui

Snowfall started around eight o’clock, and it’s far too dark for anyone to be outside at this time.

And that’s good.

The darkness makes it easier to hide.

For too long, Ony had thought of how he would make his way into her house. He’s played it over in his head so many fucking times he could do the plan with his eyes closed.

He heads straight for the back door, his decided entrance into the condo.

The lock is simple, far too easy to pick. Its click brings a jovial look to his face in the darkness.

He pushes the door open carefully, slinking into the dark house like a shadow.

His heavy boots land on the door mat placed at the door. Smart enough not to track the snow inside, he toes them off.

The nylon material of his jacket risks him being heard before being seen. And that simply can’t do.

The low whine of the zipper sounds until the jacket is fully open. He shrugs off the coat, letting it pool on the ground near his snow-crusted shoes.

Now, only in a shirt and sweats, he looks just like he lives here. Belonging with her.

His chest swells with a large inhale. Her home has a soft, powdery sweet scent.

He’s never gotten close enough to smell her. He wonders if she smells like her home, too, or if she has her own individual scent that depends on which perfume she chooses for the day.

Another thing he notices—the relative quietness of the home.

No pets either.

They would have sniffed him out by now or barked once they heard the intrusion.

But, he keeps still anyway, trying to source out any other sounds.

What he does hear is distant, playing softly; Music.

She’s upstairs.

In the dark, he makes out the staircase over near the front door. The condo is a fairly new construction. What are the chances of her having creaky steps already?

He’ll have to test them out now, won’t he?

With caution, he mounts the stairs. As he climbs, he considers the possibility of getting caught for the first time ever.

He isn’t really scared. If after all this time, Y/N hadn’t realized that she was being stalked, he has nothing to fear.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ony surveys the dark hallway. The music has gotten louder.

No wonder she didn’t hear him come in.

The floors don’t creak either as he walks, yet he remains careful.

It isn’t hard to find her; Light spills through a crack in the doorway of room much further down. The music continues to increase in volume as he nears it.

He’s quiet as he saddles up to the crack in the door. Hidden by the darkness, he takes his chance to peak inside: Sitting at the foot of her bed, Y/N stares down at a pink box in her hands.

A champagne colored, satin robe covers her body, but it’s slipping. The front is more open than it should be, giving him sight of her deep cleavage, all the way down to just above her navel. One leg crossed over the other, the expanse of her thigh is exposed.

Her skin is shiny and smooth. And her hair is under a scarf.

She just did her nightly routine, he’s sure of it. Her face is gleaming with serums and all the other shit women like her tend to use in their elaborate skin care routine.

His cum on her face would have the same effect. In fact, he’ll bet that it’ll look even better.

Y/N continues to stare down at the box, nibbling on her bottom lip in thought. The moment of contemplation lasts only a minute more before she decides to open it up.

His eyes fall to the ground, seeing the empty black gift bag at her feet and the pink tissue paper strewn around.

If Ony didn’t look back up in time, he would have missed her pulling it out of the box; A decently sized, fairly girthy dildo.

He almost chokes on his own air.

Y/N discards the box in the same fashion she did the gift bag. Her soft pink frenchies frame the toy perfectly. YA perfectly chosen color. Her fingers don’t even wrap all the way around it.

It’s looks almost like his. He has half the mind to think she was actually stalking him.

Nevertheless, the all too realistic design makes it easier to imagine her holding him instead. The thought sends his blood rushing south.

She stands from the bed to head into the connected bathroom. He licks his lips, watching the way her ass moves with each step underneath her robe.

He can hardly hear the running of the faucet over the music. A minute or two passes before it’s shut off and she reemerges from the bathroom.

Her robe has slipped further down, the belt virtually untied at this point. In her hand, the toy drips with water. She rests it on the bed side table, standing upright.

She pulls at the remaining inch of the belt and he watches her robe falls open like it’s nothing. For a second, the only thing exposed is her pussy—his favorite sight. Then she makes the smallest movement, and the ends of her robe fall away from her hardened nipples. Her dark areaolas steal his eyes away.

Y/N shirks the robe off of her shoulders and throws it down at the foot of the bed before climbing into it.

Naked against the sheets, she falls back against the pillows. She releases a sigh loud enough for him to hear. She grabs up her phone previously buried in the sheets. As she taps away on the device, one leg raises, knee pointed up to the ceiling.

Her face isn’t as clear as it previously was, but the new position gives him too good of a view of the pool in between her legs. Though, he would love to see her further spread open—get a better view of the bubble gum pink hidden by her pudgy lips.

A manicured hand slithers down the smooth plane of her toned stomach and between her thick thighs. With a touch so gently, she caresses her fat mound softly.

The way her body relaxes is so beautiful to him.

She rubs herself over and over, hand running over her lips with every pass. Until she presses a finger between them. Her body barely tenses as she applies the tiniest bit of pressure to her clit.

Her legs part wider and she spreads herself with her fingers. All the while, she maintains a stoic expression as she scrolls through her phone.

Nevertheless, when she opens up, he finally sees the tiny pink pearl protected by its hood. Her middle finger reaches down to circle it at a slow and calm pace.

Her glossed lips part, whatever sound that comes out of them he doesn’t hear as her head further sinks into the pillow behind her.

Her ring finger joins the middle one. Together, they pick up the pace by just a fraction. The pressure is a smidge greater.

He swallows back a moan, seeing her grow wet at her own touch. Her small hole clenches, pushing out a small gush of liquid that trickles down her crack. It seeps into the sheets beneath, creating a wet spot.

As Y/N continues to rub, never letting up, her face twitches and her hips stutter. She inches farther up on the bed, biting down on her bottom lip. The rubbing halts as she does a quick swipe down her pussy before continuing. Her lips are shining with the spread of her arousal.

God, he wonders what she sounds like.

She releases her bottom lip, mouth hanging open. A mewl leaves her. She cups herself in an attempt to suspend her orgasm.

Her whimper is soft and cute, he catches just a peak of it over the music. And she’s just too needy, too desperate for her own nut.

Hungry for some kind of friction, she resumes the action, building back up to a fairly quick pace. Her juices give too much of a slip. Nevertheless, her thighs flex. Her hips twitch.

“Mmh … hah—“

A tiny splurge of squirt splashes against her own fingers. It’s a polite little stream, one that’s got her hips canting into her hand, chasing after another release far too soon.

But rubbing isn’t good enough. Immediately, she switches to a firm hand, giving her clit three quick slaps. The pudge of her lips tremble with each one.

“Oh—fuck!”

She throws her head back. A squirt or two more burst from her, each weaker than the original one. And when she gets too weak for that, she rides out her orgasm with more rubbing.

Finally, her leg slips down the bed. Her body slumps and her hand ceases to move.

The wet spot beneath her ass has gotten considerably bigger, however, it’s still rather small.

Behind the door, Ony watches with a hand down his pants, fisting himself so hard that it’s he’s going dizzy. When his release is just at its peak, he squeezes himself to keep himself from falling over the cliff. He can’t cum too quick. Since the gym, he knew that next time he would come, he’d want it to be inside of her.

Finally, Y/N moves again, this time, stretching to grab the dildo and lube. Cracking the small bottle open, she pours some out on her fingertips. She slathers it all over the toy, making it glisten.

Spreading her legs once again, he sees her greedy hole clenches around nothing until it pushes out a dribble of soft vanilla-colored cream from her last orgasm.

“Shit,” his voice wavers.

She rubs the tip of the dildo between her lips, mixing and spreading her cum all over her lips and clit. It’s messy and sticky, thin strings of white pulling from her skin to the deep brown silicone.

His dick jumps, the wet spot in his boxers grow.

The toy looks like it has some weight to it. She does a light tap against her clit, shuddering. It makes a soft smack against her.

There goes that lip biting again. She makes circles with the thick head, coaxing herself into opening. Her arm tenses as she applies more and more pressure to the toy.

Just a little … bit … more—

The head pops through, plunging into her warmth. She breathes harder, working it deeper into herself. In and out, in and out. Soft white pearls at the mouth of her cunt, dripping down in thick beads the deeper the toy goes.

When she gets it halfway, she pulls it out. And he would have paid anything to hear the creamy sound her pussy made.

A long, thick rope of goo stretches between her cunt and the toy. The bottom half of the dildo’s length is painted in so much white, it’s almost hard to see the original color of its deep brown beneath.

“Fuck,” she breathes out, high pitched and needed.

She taps her cunt with it, even more aroused by her own sticky mess smeared all over her. Again, she plunges it back in, like she knew her pussy had missed the fullness.

And it pulls a ragged moan out of her. So fucking filthy. Her painted toes curl against the sheets, back arching with every other inch she works into herself.

Y/N keeps going until it’s all the way in, stuffing her greedy little hole, forcing more and more scandalous sounds out of her mouth.

She’s wreck, her hole swallowing around the toy, pushing out more and more globs of cum. It cakes the sliver of space between her ass cheeks, obscured by the winking of her second hole.

Y/N doesn’t give her body the chance to push out on this. Keeping a hand pressed to the toy’s base, she forces herself to get used to taking something this big.

It’s almost too much. Ony is sinking his nails into the palms of his hands, hopelessly trying to keep himself from finishing. The way she’s stretched open, repeatedly clamping down on it.

Greedy ass pussy.

His dick is pulsing, balls pulled so tight, and aching for release. He doesn’t know if he’ll last before getting in her.

Y/N shudders, hips moving mindlessly as she goes dumb over a stupid toy. She fucks deeply, mixing her guts with it. It pulls a shaky cry out of her, eyes squeezed shut.

She practically gushes around the toy. The milky white gets practically everywhere. Beneath her, the puddle only grows. And the tremble in her legs is so bad she can no longer keep them up.

Teeth bared, she hisses as she pulls it all out again.

Unbelievable.

It’s almost ridiculous how messy she’s got. The toy is dripping, the poor thing practically drowned out by her.

Y/N gives herself a chance to get a breath in before slamming the toy back in. It punches the air out of her, a loud squelch the only thing to soften the wet fart her pussy makes.

It’s amazing that he heard it over the music.

She freezes, whimpering like she had just hit the perfect spot. Her body crumbles. But she continues the assault on her pitiful little pussy, battering it with the deep strokes.

A thick ring of white froths at the base of the toy, growing every time it meets at the mouth of her cunt. It becomes enough that it gets all over her fingers, and oozing onto the bed.

Her sheets are a mess.

“F-fuck … fuuuck, Daddyy,” she groans. Her eyes roll back.

Her pussy is a sopping, sloppy mess, thanking her quite loudly as she feeds it what it wants.

But Ony knows that he’s what she really needs.

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, as she tries to claim another orgasm. At this point, she’s not even sure how many she’s had.

“Shit … shit—“

“That’s right, get it out. Get that nut...”

It takes far too many seconds for the new voice to register in her fucked out, hazy brain.

Her eyes peel open to see the tall figure leaning against the entrance of her room.

His head almost grazes the top of the doorframe. Thick, muscular arms trail down into the pockets of his sweats. Sweats that do nothing to hide how hard his dick is.

Fear finally strikes through her, and the sensible part of her brain tells her to cover up.

The attempt is cute, pathetic, even: She barely manages to conceal her body. Her breasts spill through her splayed fingers, and her other hand hovers over her messy pussy.

“W-what are you doing here?” The tremble in her already small voice, brings an even bigger smile out of him.

“Oh, don’t lemme stop you. I’m just here for what’s mine, Y/N.”

All the air leaves her chest as he says her name. His tongue bends around it perfectly, like he’d practiced saying it for this moment.

She clenches around the toy. “Wh-who are you?“

“I been watching you.”

She shrinks in on herself, like a scared little bunny, cornered by its predator.

“I-is it money? Do y-you want money—”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I want you, mama.”

Her mouth never closes, too scared to speak yet fearing what might happen if she were silent.

“H-how did you get in my house?”

He rolls his lips for a second, eyes never leaving her body. “Should really get a better lock.”

Tears well up in her deep-brown eyes, threatening to spill over onto the already dewy fat of her cheeks.

“P-please, please—don’t hurt me—“

“No, no—c’mon, Y/N. C’mon now,” he coos, stepping to the bed.

She inches back, the heel of her foot slipping against the puddle of wetness she had created all on her own. She can chance running, but how well will that work? Her previous orgasms have turned her limbs to jell-o.

“I ain’t tryna hurt you. I’m just tryna make you feel good.”

She glances back down at his dick, poking through the sweats. He doesn’t even stop himself, gripping at his erection. She forgets how to breathe for a second: He’s impossibly hard … and thick.

Y/N desperately tries not to acknowledge the way her pussy clamps down on the toy. Her chest tightens as she looks back into his eyes.

“I know you been lonely. Ain’t got nobody to talk to … no one who knows your body—could make it feel good. I wanna do that, so let me.”

How long has he been watching her? Why? He told her, but she just doesn’t get it! What is he getting out of this?

“Lemme make you feel good, Y/N. Don’t make me beg for it.”

Her lips part, yet she stops herself before her mouth starts moving. She catches him staring harder than he should.

Some part of her brain loves the attention she’s getting, it’s been a long time since that’s happened. But she reminds herself that this is ultimately a terrible thing that she shouldn’t find enjoyment—of any measure—in.

Watching his face closely, she attempts to sear the details of his face into her brain. He’s not ugly, far from it. If he wasn’t a fucking creep, she might’ve even approached him in a bar or at the club.

A well groomed beard, pristine waves, plump lips, high cheekbones, and a nose that would make riding a face the most pleasant experience ever.

She blinks, throwing away the thought.

“Y/N…”

Her name makes a low rumble in his chest.

“A-and you—you’re not gonna hurt me?”

He shakes his head. “Not unless you want me to.” He licks his lips before they spread into a grin.

God, she just can’t help it. He was right, she needs this. She’s desperate for it. Desperate for someone to come and fuck her so good that her she goes stupid—cock-drunk.

“Are you clean?” Her voice is much quieter than before.

There goes that charming smile of his again.

“As a whistle.”

She eyes him carefully.

“I’ll stop the second you tell me,” he mumbles, dark eyes zeroing in on the spot between her legs.

She’s got no reason to trust the guy who stalked her and broke into her home. If she says yes, she’ll be making the stupidest decision of a lifetime.

“O-okay.”

He closes the space between him and the bed. In seconds he’s rounding her side, standing over her smaller figure.

“You’on know how long I waited for this.”

Before she can ask, a heavy hands clasps around one of her ankles. Her heart leaps out of her chest as he drags her to the edge of the bed.

He hangs her legs around his waist like a belt. Y/N resists the urge to close them around him.

Up close, her pussy is a dream. A sticky, drooling mess of cum. She’s stretched so wide around the toy, her puffy lips pulled taut.

Licking at his lips, Ony yanks his shirt over his head. It’s tossed to the ground behind him.

He notices how she still hides her chest from him.

“You hiding from me?”

She shakes her head quickly, eyes still wide.

“Good, ‘cause I seen it already.” He pulls her hands away, gently. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he sighs out.

He brings a hand to cup her left breast, thumbing at her stiff nipple. He barely hears her whimper over the music before pinching at her.

Her back arches, beautifully, chest bouncing as she does so. He leans down, capturing the right nipple in his mouth.

Another sound, which he can barely fucking hear.

The hand on her breast lifts, traveling to grasp her neck as the other sinks past her tummy. Her chest billows, air stuck in her throat as he switches over to suckle at the left nipple.

He caresses the creamy mess of her pussy. Her hips chase after his hand, rutting into it when he runs his fingers through her folds. Middle and ring finger joined, he rubs with suitable pressure against her thumping clit.

A weak moan tumbles past her lips. He pulls off of her.

“Low down the music.”

His voice is gruff, she can’t even tell that she’s gotten wetter.

“M-my phone.”

He pulls away for just a second, using her phone to lower the volume. The Twitter video she had playing has long since paused. He clicks the phone off, tossing it God knows where.

His hand returns to her neck, squeezing as he plays in the mess of her pussy. Her cunt squishes against his fingers, quite loudly.

She whimpers in embarrassment, looking away.

“Fuck,” he moans, watching her clamp around the toy.

Slowly, her embarrassment burns away as she slips deeper into pleasure. Switching his positioning, the rough pad of his thumb slips and slides against her, causing her head to fall back and her eyes to slip closed.

His hand leaves her clit to go lower. A sharp gasp falls from her lips as the toy is tugged at by its base.

“Lemme help you with that,” he rasps just before pulling it all the way out.

Webs of cum stretch between her and the toy before breaking. She mewls, and he gets to see her pretty pink hole, exposed to the air. It clenches repeatedly, as if it missed the feeling of being full. Her cum from previous orgasms ooze out of her like thick, milky syrup.

“I’ma fill up this pussy soon,” he swears to himself.

Ony brings the messy dildo to his face, examining it in all its closeness. It’s sticky with her cream. He almost wants to taste it. To taste her.

“The second time I ever seen you was at the gym.”

She tries to work through the fog of her own brain to comprehend his words.

“That pretty, fat ass looked real good in those shorts. So did that pussy.”

He plunges his fingers into her, moving so quick that she splashes back against him. She’s a mess, crying out.

“She speaking to me, huh?”

Throwing her head back, she moans out. He hums, pulling his hand out. Far too easily, he sticks his gooey fingers in his mouth, sucking off her cream.

And—fuck—she tastes amazing.

“Turn ‘round for me.”

“Wait—w-what do I call you?”

“Ony.” He licks at his bottom lip.

With no other words, he flips her over on her stomach. A heavy hand lands on her left ass cheek, making the fat shake like jello.

She hisses, back arching as she pushes her ass up higher into the air.

“Yeah, keep that ass up f’me.”

He reaches out, gripping a cheek tight. He spreads it. His thumb inches towards her puckered hole, spreading her release around it.

“You gon’ lemme fuck you here?” He hums.

The thought of stretching her ass out makes his dick jump in his pants. He’s gonna have to come out of those soon.

Y/N moans into the messy sheets, gripping at them.

“Ever been fucked there?”

Her voice is muffled.

“Say that again?”

She twists her head to the side. “Y-yes.”

“Oh, so you a lil’ freak then?” His thumb pressed into her harder, yet it doesn’t break past. “I knew that, though,” he says to himself, still toying with her butt.

“Please...”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Ony. Fuck me.”

He throws his head back in laughter. “In ya butt?”

Her shoulders hunch in embarrassment. Y/N rests her head on folded arms and looks back at him through wet lashes.

A pout on her lips, she barely nods. And he can’t help but to coo at her. But, he gives a firm head shake. “Nah. I won’t stick my dick there.”

Her face falls.

“But, we could use this fun lil’ toy you bought.”

Her eyes widen and her arch slackens. “Wait, wait—I-I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“If this won’t fit, I definitely won’t.” Picking up the dildo, he smacks the thick, silicon tip against her anus. “Wouldn’t hurt to try though, right?”

“Ony—“

“You’on trust me, mama?”

She stares at him, sucking on her bottom lip. After a minute of thinking, she nods.

“Good girl.”

She whimpers as cold lube drips onto her crack, although he’s sure she doesn’t even need it with how much she’d cum. Still, doesn’t hurt to be safe.

He spreads it with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to tease the entrance of a finger. And then his thumb pops in, pulling a low whine out of her.

“You ever used ya fingers here before?”

She buries her head into the sheets, moaning into them.

Ony takes his time, pushing and pulling his thumb at a slow pace. “Words, mama.”

“Yes.”

He never switches up the pace on her, trying to get her comfortable. But, she can’t help that greed burning in the pit of her tummy. She wants to feed it.

“More…”

“Ouu, you dirty.” He smacks the creamy dildo against a cheek.

A breathless giggle floats past her lips.

Rocking on her knees, she shakes her ass for him. “More, Ony.”

“How much you want?”

“Mmph—all,” she groans, eyes fluttering shut.

“You like that freaky shit?”

“Yeah,” she moans breathlessly.

It makes sense, seeing as how her body offers little resistance to him. He removes his thumb, and there she is, clenching around nothing again. He’ll fix that.

Slowly, he pushes the tip of the dildo in. And then he works it in, pushing, pulling, and even twisting the toy.

“Oh, fuck, Ony,” Y/N whines. Despite the burn of the stretch, she pushes her ass back against him.

“Yeah, fuck y’self on this dick.” With his free hand, he tugs at his sweats. “Just like that, baby.”

Clear fluid gathers at her stretched rim. As he fucks her, it drips from the toy. Her pussy weeps at the backdoor stimulation.

“So fucking dirty.” He swipes a finger through her folds as he continues to fuck her ass. He thumbs at her clit, loving the way her body twitches and shudders at all he does.

Thick globs of her honey slowly drip from her.

Finally, he pushes the dildo all the way in. Her hole clenches repeatedly, naturally working to push it out.

“Keep that shit in,” he grunts, smacking her ass.

She whimpers loudly. Her eyes can barely keep open with the constant threat of rolling back into her skull. She feels so full already. The thick toy has got her so stuffed, undoubtedly making the space between her walls tighter.

Speaking of, Ony flips Y/N on her back, ready to get in between them. Peering down at her face, she already looks fucked out of it.

“You ready to tap out?”

His thumb caresses her clit in a way that has her pulling in her bottom lip. Pushing past her arousal, Y/N sits up on her elbows to stare down at the mess he’s making with her: swirling the mess around.

“Hm?”

Her mouth falls open slowly as a glob of his spit lands right on his target.

“Uh-uh,” she exhales, shaking her head so fast it almost makes her dizzy.

“Good.”

He grips her thick thighs as he gets down on his knees. Lowering his face in between her legs, his breath tickles her. He laughs when she jumps.

Her body teems with excitement as it trembles under him.

Eye contact is strong as the soft pink of his tongue breaks past his thick lips. From her clenching hole to her thumping pearl, he runs it straight through her puffy, glistening folds.

Her legs twitch against his hands, but he keeps them in place.

A faint cry falls from her lips, so soft he doesn’t even hear it. With every lick and suckle, she grows wetter. He laps at her honeypot, the bottom half of his face getting shinier with every passing second.

The twisted sheets between her fingers aren’t enough. One hand releases the cloth, brain muddying so much that she no longer fears touching him with her hands.

An acrylic-laid fingers falls atop his waves.

At the back of her mind, she half-expected him to stop in the middle of eating—pulling away to remove her hand and tell her not to fuck up his hair. But he doesn’t.

He just keeps on eating. Eating like his life depends on it. Eating like this is his last meal on this earth.

His head twists and turns, neck craning to get the best angles so that his tongue may reach deeper—that he may taste more.

“Sh-shit … Ony,” she mewls, back arching into the air.

The tip of nose slides against her clit. She clenches repeatedly around his tongue.

“Ony, I…”

He hums into, as if to say “go on.”

Her eyes blink lazily, jaw only slackening as she reaches closer.

She tastes better than water. He can guzzle her down forever.

Only pressing his face further into her puffy pussy, every crease of her is laden with her water.

“Oh, God—Ony!”

Against his desires, he pulls away, replacing his face with his hands. He parts her lips with one hand, the other passing back and forth over her clit.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he drawls, hand moving faster than his voice.

“Mmh … auuh—“

Her splishing turns to a gush, his fingers beating against the stream.

She hisses, throwing her head back against the mattress.

“Give it to me,” he goads, dragging a hand down her thigh to smack her.

Still holding her open, he leans back in to drink from her, eyes squeezed shut as he indulges far too much.

He doesn’t stop until he sucks her dry, cleaning her up despite her whimpers of overstimulation.

“You taste good, Ma,” he croaks, licking at his lips.

His eyes don’t leave her quivering mound. Letting his immediate thoughts take ahold of him, he spits on it, only to sup her up one more time.

He hardly realizes the faint pushing at his forehead. Getting the message, he finally lets up.

Her body is a puddle on the mattress. Her heaving chest shines with sweat.

Against his hands, her thighs tremble. Puffs of air float past her heart shaped lips.

That had to be the best head she’s ever gotten. It was almost too overwhelming. Even as she tries to calm her heart, it’s just beating too fast.

And she hasn’t even done anything but lay on her back and take it.

That’s all Ony needs of her.

Letting go of her legs, he gets back on his feet.

“Where you want it?”

She blinks hazily, her vision blurred. “H-huh?”

“Thought I was finished?”

She struggles to sit up on her elbows.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. Y/N looks down just in time for him to pull himself out of his sweats. “Nah.”

Just as his tip is freed from the waistband of his boxer, his dick bobs, almost slapping against his stomach. And speaking of his tip, it’s wide. The perfect shade of calm pink. But still wide.

He’s got a curve that she’s sure will pierce her cervix. And prominent veins that she knows she’ll feel when he’s inside. With the way it’s standing, he doesn’t need no quick two or three pumps to get ready.

“That pussy ready f’me?” he breathes, wrapping his thick fingers around his dick and lifting it.

“It’s t-too … big.” She gazes up at him, expression open and unsure.

He props himself up on me hand over her. With the other, he smacks his cock against her pudgy lips.

The sheer heaviness of him makes her jump. Her tiny gasp is adorable. Tugging at his bottom lip with teeth, Ony taps her again, reveling in the wet plop it makes.

It’s not even in her yet and that left curve is hitting her just right—her clit, that is. And he seems to share her ecstasy; He fights rolling his eyes back as he rubs his throbbing tip through her slippery labia.

Precum is smeared all over her, and it’s a sight similar to a freshly glazed chocolate donut.

Tiny twitches disrupt her body as she’s once again building back up to another orgasm. She whimpers, feeling her pussy widen as it prepares to take him in.

But he didn’t enter, only playing with her body in the cruelest way.

“Nngh … c’mon,” she quietly begs.

“Just a little bit more, baby.”

His denial has rivers gushing out onto his dick, getting him wet enough for her. Finally, he aligns himself with her and ever so slowly, does he press into her.

If this isn’t heaven on earth, he doesn’t know what the fuck it is.

A tight, wet pocket of heat swallows his tip easily. He moans pathetically, arms shaking as he tries to fight against himself to keep from busting too quick.

She’s clenching repeatedly, like she’s never had dick before. The thought has him twitch, the small movement she feels. It has her clenching down on him even harder.

A deep groan erupts from him, his head dropping into his chest as he continues to bully his way into her pussy. He slides his hips back and forth, opening her up more and more.

Gotta keep going echoes in his head, even as there’s a mere inch of him left to give.

Around his waist, her legs tremble so much she tightens them around him so that it mightn’t be so noticeable. Her body is so tightly wound, holding back.

Ony shifts on his feet, catching the small wince Y/N makes. He readies himself and pushes the last inch in, a tiny plop heard as their skin collides. He shudders at the feeling, only made better as her body tries to milk him. Flush against her, his balls are pressed into the cloud of her cream which she had pushed out.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he groans.

She can feel him jumping inside of her. Her legs squeeze him tighter. It’s her first time using both holes at once, and she didn’t think she’d be feeling this full.

Clenching around both him and the toy has her fighting to keep her eyes open. And he hasn’t moved yet, but it’s like he’s in her stomach. It’s what she can only describe as a deep ache that feels wonderful. And the toy is only making her feel more sensitive.

“You ready?” Ony gruffs, fisting at the sheets to keep some sense of control.

She nods, at a loss for words. Too scared to open her mouth, because what will come out might not even be a coherent sentence or thought. Just broken babbles and sounds.

Keeping close, he hooks a hand under the crook of her right knee and slowly lifts her leg until it’s thrown over his shoulder. It brought a devilish grin to his lips, watching her face morph into one of incredulity as he makes her stretch to get a tighter hole.

The squeeze—he can’t even describe it. But he’s sure she can tell by the way his eyes roll back. Her clinching down is dangerous. He wants to tell her to stop, but he doesn’t even think he can speak.

“Fuuuck—“

He heaves his hips out of her at a dragging pace. And she makes it so hard, like her body doesn’t want to let him go. He practically fights against the suction of her.

Soft cries pour from her lips, made louder when he slides back in. He builds into a comfortable pace. Every time their hips meet, there’s a resounding wet splat is heard. So focused keeping it up, he doesn’t even see how her pelvis is bathed in the pasty gloop of her weeping pussy.

Her moans are choked up, like music to his ears as he fully sheathes himself inside of her. Deciding that he wanted to remain in her, he circles his hips, repeatedly pressing the crown of his dick into her cervix while hitting her G-spot.

“GOD—“

He doesn’t let up, continuing to mix up her pot of honey. He has to remind himself to breathe, feeling like he’s almost drowning in her.

“Ony,” she whines, over and over again, warbling in his ear. Her arms are thrown around his shoulder, nails clawing at the skin of his back.

“You like this?”

She hastily nods, too broken to speak.

“Huh?” He exhales, still working his dick into her. “You like how I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, yes!”

He gives her a few more pumps before pulling himself up to stand. Regaining his footing, Ony unhooks her leg from his shoulder to hold by her ankle.

Now that he’s not in too deep, he chances looking at the mess they’ve created. Her viscous spread to the inners of her quaking thighs and the valley between her ass.

The mess on the bed is so thick, the puddle beneath dotted with globs of white that crest the bottom of her cheeks. Webbings of tacky release attach them, too heavy to keep up in gravity. And speaking of, his balls drip with thick blobs of cum.

Pleading whines knock him from his trance, pushing him to continue. Turning his head, he presses a wet smooch to the inside of her calve.

“Look so fucking sexy.” Another kiss just an inch higher. “Split open on my dick like this.” He pecks her ankle. “Pussy weeping for me.”

Bringing her foot closer to his face, he presses his lips to her clean foot sole. Her acrylic-laden toes curl as he begins to move again. Her croons are drowned out by the piercing spurts they make as he plunges into her.

His thick tongue slips past his lips, curling around her big toe before he sucks on it. Y/N does nothing but whine, a hand pressing to his lower abdomen as he fucks her good. Her brain is a puddle as he sucks on her toes.

As his tongue laves her two middle toes, one hand holding up her leg, he uses the other to press against her lower stomach. A ragged cry rips from her as her body further tenses.

“Yeaah,” he drags out once his mouth is off of her. “You feel me there?”

She responds, but he can’t even tell what she’s saying. It’s all just nonsense blubbering.

“Feel me fucking you this deep?” He doesn’t let up. In fact, he’s fucking harder. “All in your stomach, baby…”

Her eyes are glazed over, barely open as she just takes it.

Ony didn’t think she would get any wetter than this. But as he pushes in her, rivulets of sap splash back against his pelvis. It’s a warm, heavy ache that only feels better with the pressure from all ends. And a bit of the ache is relieved every time her body releases a warm flow of slop from between her legs.

Her body bounces, breasts rolling with every movement. She’s fucking gushing like a spout he can’t seem to shut off. Not that he wants to. In fact, he doesn’t think he ever wants to pull out. With all this wetness, he can’t even tell if he came yet. But if he did, he knows that once isn’t enough to satiate him.

“Should bust in here.” He presses down harder on her stomach. She sobs, brokenly. “Fill you with my seed … fill that pussy up with me—“

His hips stutter, pace faltering.

“Fuck—Im’a mark you. Make s-sure … no other nigga … scumming in this—a-awe shit!”

His dick jumps as spurts of coming empty out of him, balls tightening as he feeds her pussy every ounce of cum he has. And she’s eating up, swallowing it all around him.

He stays in for a minute, her body just continuing to milk him for all he’s worth until he’s empty.

“Shit, you feel so good, baby,” he groans.

When he finally pulls out, his release is too much for her to contain. Immediately, it chases after him, seeping out in thick dribbles. He pushes her legs back to get the best view.

And as he watches, she reaches a hand down to stick her fingers in all of it. Pulling them away to have him see the sticky strings of their cum mixed together. She slaps at her messy cunt before dipping lower to scoop up his falling cum, only to make a feeble effort to push it back inside.

“Fucking nasty,” he laughs, and when he looks up to see her face, she’s got a dazed smile on her lips.

But in all honesty, watching her play in their messy has him bricked up again, which she instantly catches. Before he can say anything, she pushes herself onto her stomach and lifts her ass into the air.

“One more,” she says softly, peering back at him over her shoulder.

It’s a debauched sight. The toy is still pushed in deep, and she’s dripping onto the bed. Gingerly, she reaches a hand down between her legs, cupping her sensitive mound before lifting her fingers back to messily toy with her clit.

“C’mon, Ony,” she whines, rocking her ass back and forth.

Even as she begs, she doesn’t wait for him, still rubbing as herself for one more release. Her eyes fall closes, ass cheeks and legs twitching as she builds up to another orgasm.

Her eyes open for a sliver of a second, just enough for him to see them roll back. Her mouth drops open, the ghost of a wail leaving through it.

There’s nothing.

And then…

A harsh shiver wracks throughout her body, announcing the violent spray of squirt that further soaks the mattress, fuck the sheets at this point.

“Oh God … oh God,” she groans, body almost convulsing as she beats against her clit, dragging it out. “Onyyy,” she cries.

Her pussy clenches repeatedly, almost begging for something to fill it, even as it pushes out an orgasm for the umpteenth time tonight. So, he gives her what she wants.

DIck in hand, he holds onto her ass and guides himself back into her. With no patience this time around, he drops his dick into her with so much ease it slides in.

And as he bottoms out, her pussy makes a loud, wet fart. The sound is punctured with a heavy moan by her. He pulls out and pushes back in. The sound repeats, much wetter this time. And he does it again, hearing the squishing of her pussy alongside the wet suction.

The sound goads him to push in and pull out, repeatedly. Loud splats accompany the bouncing of her ass against his pelvis. The ripples of her fat are hypnotic, and he’s getting lost in it. Reaching out, he grasps her throat, squeezing just enough that she’s clutching onto his arm. His dick throbs as she clenches around him.

“Got me cumming back to back in this pussy—“

Leaning over her, leg propped up on the bed frame, he fucks into her deeper. The arch in her back is so deep as his dick pierces her stomach. The hand at her hip leaves its spot to lay a heavy smack on her ass.

“Sh-shit!”

“You love that shit,” he grits in her ears. That hand travels to the toy buried deep in her. He applies pressure to the base, and she wails. “Love being fucked … in both holes, huh?”

Wet tears streak her puffy cheeks. The head-tie that once sat neatly atop her hair has been slipped. The top of leave-out peaking out at him.

“Gonna fill you up again—“

“Please!”

He doesn’t try to last as long this time, emptying his second or third load deep in her. He can’t even tell the number at this point.

“Fuck, I’m in this pussy,” he babbles, eyes squeezed shut. “Gonna give you my kids,” his breath shudders.

Her pussy makes a sound akin to bubble-popping, squishing, as he forces his hips deeper. Bubbles of cum froth at the base of where they meet. The sensation, the vision—it all prolongs his orgasm.

As she feels his thick ropes of cum shoot off inside of her, it brings on her final release of the night. They both moan far too loud, bodies sagging into each other as exhaustion overtakes them.

“Damn,” he sighs, breathless laughter following.

A low whine is her only response, too fucked out to even think of one good enough.

Tiredly, he reaches down to gently pull the dildo out. It’s drenched in a clear fluid. He throws it down on the bed, not too concerned with cleaning at the moment. Her hole winks, stretched out from the toy.

“Can’t let you go after this,” he mumbles into the crook of her neck. “Never.”

Her only response is pushing her ass back against him.

“No other nigga gon’ fuck you like this. You hear?”

She groans out what is her best interpretation of a “yes.”

And that’s all he needs.

This is the last part of this miniseries! Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed, lmk your thoughts

#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankapon #aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot smut #fanfic #fanfiction

462 notes · View notes

gojosatoruwifey · 17 days

Text

ㅡuniverse's interference

📜🖋️🎀 IF YOU WANT TO SEE ME WRITE MORE, SUPPORT MY KO-FI🎀🖋️📜 want to see lnd men as your high school sweethearts? check it on my ko-fi. based from the daytime star extra chapter ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿)

this is it.

you’ve done the impossible.

it’s crystal clear that the earnest wish you have thought of as you are being ravished by your dear husband on the wedding night has successfully reached the universe.

what was that wish?

you stared at the most beautiful pair of eyes you’ve ever seen, his adorable eyes staring back at you in curiosity. little arms try to make a grab of you as plump cheeks puff up, upset that he couldn’t do what he wanted.

“you even have the same expression as your papa when he is upset.” you laughed. the baby you have picked up is exactly the carbon copy of rafayel. your own genes didn’t fight back. heck, it took you just one try.

“mama!” your son made grabby hands again, his little limbs wiggling in the air.

please, universe. give me a child who looks exactly like this man!

heart weak to the cuteness the baby is showing, you finally relented and embraced him. your son quickly holds you once you’re within reach, his grip on your top is so strong that it even defies all laws of physics. you wonder how such strength is manifested from a small body.

it’s amazing how the baby acts and looks like rafayel. the baby revels in your attention, eyes lighting up whenever his mama is on him as you coo at him for not making a fuss in eating the squash and carrots on his plate, the baby squealing in happiness because he beat his papa again. rafayel, who had been defeated, sulks while you are left to comfort the lemurian after you tuck the baby to sleep.

rafayel hasn’t made any qualms about it, a smug expression on his features that the baby obviously inherited from him, pretending to be mad to make you comfort him a little longer.

“so cute!” you pepper the baby’s face with kisses as your son giggles.

the baby’s arrival in this world is nothing short of a miracle. after the twists and turns of your life, the sound of uncontrollable wails eases the weight as well as the pain, your teary eyes landing on your firstborn child. you woke up with rafayel taking care of his son, small and just a few hours alive.

now, a few months old. slightly wavy dusk purple hair, bluish pink eyes, refined nose and same lip shape — yes, there’s no way people with working eyes can deny it. your son who resembles his father so much can even mistake rafayel for shrinking into a child. once, aunt talia visited, finally found a day off from her work, amazement was written on her face as she took a proper look at the baby.

“who’s the cutest in the world? of course, it’s you!”

“ba!”

you heard a sigh behind you. “looks like i have to work hard to be your number one again.”

toned arms wrapped around your waist as you feel rafayel tugs you closer to him, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks and the baby’s. realizing his papa is here, the baby babbles nonsense in a scolding tone yet rafayel only finds this amusing as if he understands what his son is saying.

“dunno about that, buddy.” rafayel pokes the baby’s round cheeks. “your mama loves me, you see, so she will let her hubby spoil her for a day, right?” rafayel whispers against your ear as you feel your heart warm at his affection.

“thomas will babysit this little one tomorrow.” he takes the baby in his arms, watching the husband-son pair scene in front of you with a smile. the baby leans to his papa’s chest, the beats lulling him to an afternoon nap, eyelashes fluttering close as rafayel hums a melody.

gingerly, rafayel leans down to capture your lips for a quick kiss, voice low, “can i have the honor of taking you out on a date, wifey?”

it’s your turn to wrap your arms to rafayel’s waist, resting over his warm shoulders. the wind carries his scent — a hint of sea salt and a dominance of sweet, powdery notes. a nod is his answer. “you’ve been busy with the opening of the exhibition and i kind of…” you trailed off, “miss my husband.”

“care to repeat that? i think i didn’t hear you for the first time.” rafayel lightly yelps when you bite the flesh of his neck. he pouts, “stingy.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #lnd rafayel #lnd x reader #l&ds x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel fluff #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #qiyu #love and deepspace qiyu #love and deepspace homura

186 notes · View notes

imnotanironwall · 4 months

Text

PINK SNOW

Small piece about Idia being a gay mess, as requested on twitter

Snow. A white, powdery blanket about 5 inches deep. Covering the ground, the trees, the Great Seven’s statues. It’s everywhere. It’s cold. It’s awful.

He had enough of it in Harveston. At least there was a good reason for him to brave through the snow there, he needed to get the full Sled Over Heels experience! See all the sites, feel the heat of a fire warm him up after a full day of training, sample the famous apple pies... It was all worth the energy spent, the effort of leaving his room.

Why, then, why is he out of his comfy warm bed, decked out in his Harveston attire in the freaking snow at school. Sure, they’d worked on a new gear for Ortho so he could enjoy playing outside in this weather with his friends. But Idia didn’t need to be there to test it out. He fully trusted Ortho to update him on any needed upgrades even if that sure was going to be a perfect gear anyway!

And it is! Idia can see it for himself, it doesn’t melt the snow under Ortho and it lets him feel the cold, while also being able to form snowballs. It’s genius, but kekeke no one doubted it even a second! Idia is a master of his craft! GG.

This would be a perfect time if only there weren’t all these NPCs around. Especially the romanceable ones. Not that Idia has a chance at dating any of them! He’s just the comic relief, no, worse, he’s the plot character who’s going to disappear in Act 1 to begin the story and soon enough everyone will have forgotten about him because the mystery is much bigger and goes much deeper than just one student disappearing!

Like! Just look at the way Cater-shi’s reddening cheeks compliments his hair or how Trey-shi tries to hide his flirty smirk as he looks over his friends. Oh, and Azul-shi is definitely already brainstorming a new menu for the Lounge, he’s gonna make mad madols with a new seasonal beverage, trust him to look good while thinking his evil capitalistic plans. Jamil-shi would look just as good with all that snow framing his face if he wasn’t so busy trying to keep an eye out on Kalim-shi, he’s def gotta take a break. His cheeks are getting rosy with the cold and that’s such a cute look on him.

YIKES! Who invented the princes to this party! They’re definitely going to melt that snow down with that heat they’re radiating just being around. Even Idia’s hair, burning all pink, isn’t hot enough to defrost the ground and here he is, feeling weak at the knees with just a stare from Leona-shi. He looks so cold in all those furs, someone gets him an emergency blanket! Or maybe Malleus-shi could light a fire for them to cuddle huddle close. Oh, but not for Idia! No, definitely not! He couldn’t stand next to royalty like that, be a blemish next to perfection. Uh uh, nope. Getting out of there, now, why is Malleus-shi looking at Idia like that anyway. Does he have mind-reading power? Telepathy? Jeez, Idia shoulda brought him back to Styx too and studied him closely, but oh. Oh! Abort mission, he’s smiling slyly and getting closer.

Ortho— !!!!!!!

#ficlet #twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #idia shroud #twst idia

12 notes · View notes

ginsengkitten · 1 month

Text

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

A slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

CHAPTER FIVE

Purple Haze

Word count: Approx 3k

TW: drug use and brief suggestions of SA(nothing happens though).

A/N: Guyssss thanks for waiting. I just want to say I did not expect this chapter to end up so….wholesome????? Idk how else to put that lmao. But I think y’all will like it :)

The night began to blur together in a warm haze. The bottle of bourbon emptied quickly and full bottles would take its place. With each bold, fiery sip burning your tongue, your inhibitions faded to dust. Everything felt easier now. The fears you fought to keep at bay suddenly drifted away completely. You and Daisy danced drunkenly throughout the room as music pounded from a pair of stolen Technics speaker systems. A thick smoke drifted across ceiling. "It smells fucking TERRIBLE in here!" You laugh. Daisy and others laugh back. "You mean the smoke?" They ask. Daisy skips over to Joel's lap and pulls a fat cigarette from his hand. She crawls back to you sitting on the master bed and holds it out to you. "This?" She asks. You whiff and the skunk like scent whafts strongly. You recoil slightly. "Yes THAT." You confirm. Daisy laughs again and looks back at the group then to you. "Awe, she's never had smoke before!" Someone coos out. The group laughs adoringly towards your cluelessness once more. "Try it Foxey, I promise you." Daisy smiles, urging the thick cigar to your mouth. You don't really think much on it and take an inhale. Something of a bold but sweet flavor. All the while, slash observed you from his corner of the room. Studying you falling deeper and deeper into various highs of which you had never experienced. A smoothing sensation tingles across your body. Different than the alcohol. Something softer and lighter. You and Daisy lie on your backs on the bed and stare at the ceiling and the party raged on. Minding nothing to the surroundings blurring around you. everything felt light and easy. For the first time in your life, you felt peace and happiness. Like all was right in the world. No worries to speak of as you rode wavelengths within your mind of deep thought. The music sounded especially excellent too.

Slash watched you from afar with a sense of responsibility. Ensuring you were enjoying yourself. Watching you like a hawk. God help anyone who tried to get close to you besides Daisy. But somehow you manage to escape his view and go to the restroom with Daisy. You both enclose yourself in the small hallway bathroom. Moving around made you realize just how un-sober you were. Moving felt like a chore. "Daisy I feel sick." You moan out softly as you lean your back against the wallpaper as she fixes herself in the mirror. "Just wait a sec Y/N." She replies not breaking her self gaze in the mirror. You hear a pound on the bathroom door and Joel and another man inch their way into the small room. Daisy lights up. "Got it." Joels friend grins, holding a small plastic bag up. A white powdery substance inside. "What's that?" You ask haphazardly trying to sway your nausea away. "It's going to help you feel all better" Daisy said. "It just helps you feel a little better when you're slowin' down." Joel said. He poured out the substance onto the pink porcelain countertop. You'd do just about anything to feel better like you were before. You watch the white line disappear up her nose. Daisy throws her head back and lets out a loud breathy laugh. Her face lighting up immediately. God that's exactly what you need right now too. The powder inhales into you swiftly and an almost immediate rush of incredible force practically raises you from the dead in an instant. You squeeze your eyes and let out a yelp. "Holy fuck!" You exclaim. Yup. You were wide awake now. Fuck you felt like a fucking god now.

Three substances now danced through you. You faded between waves of a multicolored buzz, urging you to begin exploring the house. You slip out of the bathroom and out of sight, easily so as daisy and Joel clobbered eachother in a coke frenzied kiss. Nevermind them now, you were finally free to move about the cabin so to speak. You wanted to meet everyone at the party. You jostled your way throughout the living room, brushing shoulders carelessly with like minded individuals also spun up in their own highs. All was well here. A feeling of endless freedom and infinity coursed through you. You stumble your way out to the other side of the house into another bedroom. A group of guys perched throughout the floor and bed and immediately welcome you into their club. You recognize Joel's friend from earlier. The bathroom guy! You sit on the floor beside him. He notices your elated state. Your vulnerable state. "Man for a schoolgirl you sure know how to hang!" He compliments. "Not aaa schoolgirl" you slur out excitedly. "But I've nnever done this beforeee that's for sure. Like a total virgin yanno?" You ramble on and the rest of the room of strictly men now focus their attention on your revealing words. You feel the energy in the room shift through your semi conscious state of mind. The buzz from the coke suddenly went dull but the unfaltering ebs and flows of drunken stupor continued to fight against you. Joel's friend sits closer to you know and wraps an arm around you. Axl wrapping his arm adoringly around you was almost kind and endearing. The energy of this arm however felt different and heavier. "A total virgin on the strip? That's unheard of Foxey!" He laughs out. "Yeah, I don't think the strip takes kindly to virgins, but we can help you out." Another guy chimes in. "Yeah let us protect you girl we'll get you acquainted real quick!" Another one sneers out. You feel another arm around you. Joel's friend attempts pulling you into an embrace but you begin to resist his advance, to which he holds tighter. "Foxeyyyy girl don't be like that, we're here to help!" He assures. Another guy sits next to you and plays with your hair. You shake your head no through a wave of nausea. "nno, I don't think-" you try to call out under a heap of distortion. "I think I better leave now." You try to state as confidently and firmly as possible while wiggling yourself out of the enclosing circle of dirty men. His grip holding you harder now and you want to panic. "Stop it!" You cry out. The sheer wooden door to the bedroom crashes open practically off its rusty hinges. You see Slash in the doorway holding an empty bottle of night train. "Hey man were fuckin busy in here get your own whore!" One of the men call to him angrily. Not as angry as Slash unfortunately for them. Slash doesn't hesitate and grips the leather vest of one of the men in front of you and yanks his entire body into the wall, his body creating a shattered dent in the cheap wood paneling. The atmosphere changes in an instant and the rest of the men contemplate squaring up to him or cutting their losses as not to earn a face full of plywood. Slash doesn't quit and decks Joel's friend square in the face. Blood immediately erupting from his nose. "The fucks your problem!" Someone yells. Slash doesn't answer and smashes the empty bottle of night train over another guys head. The remaining men made a quick decision to not lose any teeth and swiftly let go of you and push you away from them. "Here man fucking take her you fucking psycho!" They say. You try to contain awareness but the swift push into slash sends your mind reeling in a blur once again but you feel yourself land in his arms.

Text Limit Reached ig 🙄 - Continue reading HERE

#gnr smut #slash #slash fanfiction #slash gnr #slash smut #slash x reader #gnr #gnr x reader #saul hudson #saul hudson x reader

18 notes · View notes

underaverageheight · 1 year

Text

Love (6/8)

LF x gn!reader Fluff Warning(s): none not proofread (ofc lol)

Feel free to reblog and like with feedback, comments are great but I won't be able to respond since this is a sub-blog (found this out recently ㅠㅠ)

“Babe, I’m hungry. Craving something sweet.” You groaned, pulling Felix away from his game. “Make something with me?”

Felix hurriedly pulled you over to the kitchen. “I’ve always wanted to try and make this,” From the cabinet above, he pulled out a thin blue binder, flipping all the way to the back. “This cake, this strawberry cake.”

“So that’s why you bought strawberries,” You opened the fridge, pulled out the strawberries, washed a few, then took a bite. “Mmm sweet, here, try it,” You took the bitten strawberry and popped it into Felix’s mouth.

Felix hummed, “That’s really good,” He pulled flour and other ingredients from the cabinets. Reading the recipe, you started measuring the ingredients. When you grabbed the flour, an intrusive thought entered your mind. What if I just- Poof. A splat of the powdery substance landed on Felix’s forearm as he beat the egg whites. “Love, don’t start now,” he warned, a slight smile appearing.

“But what if I want to?” Mischievously, you grabbed a small handful and threw it blindly, scurrying quickly away. You heard a bowl clatter on the counter.

“Get back here,” You squealed and ran back into the kitchen where Felix came by and tossed a big handful of flour at you. You retaliated with an even larger amount.

“Wait wait,” Giggling, you put your hands up. “Truce! Until the cake is done,”

“Fine,” Felix smirked as the two of you, both a flour-covered mess, rushed to get the cake into the oven. “Now we wait,” He said, as the oven door shut. He walked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

In the meantime, you started the strawberry frosting, adding more sugar as you pleased. The cake was cooling off to the side. “Want to do it?” You passed the frosting to Felix who began to frost the cake. You admired the view. His soft hair was pulled back, allowing you to see his concentration on the cake. His dark brown eyes were unblinking, staring intently while piping the frosting atop the cake. He's so beautiful.

“How does it look? Good?” Felix had a bright smile on his face, flour dusted all over his clothes and hair. Rosy pink splotches of frosting on his hands. He looked like a little kid who was finally let into the kitchen for the first time to bake. You laughed. The joyous sound filled the room.

“Yeah. It looks good. Good job, Lixie. Shall we try it?”

“Pictures?” Felix left the kitchen only to reappear with his phone in hand. Finding a nice angle with lighting, he took a few pictures. “Now we can try it. Close your eyes.” You complied, confused by the request. “Open.” A chunk of cake entered your mouth. It was sweet, the strawberry flavors melting in your mouth.

Opening your eyes, you saw Felix smiling. “Open wide, Lix,” You cut a piece and put it in Felix’s mouth, making a bit of a mess. “More please,” you asked Felix for more cake. Laughing, his hand was unsteady, accidentally smearing frosting on your nose and mouth. You gasped, giggling, as you took leftover frosting and swiped it on his face. “Payback.” You smirked.

The two of you were smiling as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you,”

Masterlist

A/N: this long await piece is finally out ㅠㅠ ... srsly, seeing the amount people that enjoy my works made my motivation come back quickly

#stray kids #skz fluff #skz #skz imagines #cielosblurbs #lee felix fluff #lee felix #skz felix #스트레이키즈 #collection: love #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you

47 notes · View notes

gelus-ugs · 2 months

Text

Trust~ Tamaki Suoh

Chapter Five

Master list

_________________________________________

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Third Person POV

[Y/n] sat on her bed, dressed in [outfit] with her hair tied back as she read a book. Flipping to the next page, [Y/n] let out a sigh as she looked at the clock on the wall. He should be here any minute..

As if on cue, someone knocked on the door. [Y/n] looked up, telling whoever was on the other side to come in. One of the maids gently opened the door as she peeked her head inside,

“Miss [Y/n], someone is here to see you.”

“I’ll be right there.”

[Y/n] responded, placing a bookmark in between the last read pages and closing the book. [Y/n] made her way downstairs, smiling when she spotted a familiar blonde chatting with one of the maids.

As if noticing a new presence, Tamaki looked up to see [Y/n] making her way down the steps, a goofy grin plastered on his face once he spotted her.

“Hello, Tamaki.”

[Y/n] greeted once she was in front of him. Tamaki took [Y/n]’s hand into his own before kissing the back of it.

“Hello, princess. You look stunning as always.”

Giggling, [Y/n] gently removed her hand before motioning in the direction of the kitchen.

“Come on. The cupcakes won’t bake themselves.”

Tamaki stood in the middle of the kitchen as [Y/n] got out all the ingredients and tools needed to bake cupcakes. Once everything was ready, she threw a spare apron at Tamaki before she began to put one on herself.

“Ready to bake, lover boy?”

Tamaki faltered at the nickname, finding it unexpected - especially from someone like [Y/n].

“L-lover boy?”

Tamaki parroted in confusion. [Y/n] smirked, turning around to face Tamaki,

“Yeah, lover boy. That’s what you are.”

“Wh-whatever..”

Tamaki muttered, his face flushed a light shade of pink as he tied the apron around his waist.

“Here, I’ll mix everything together for the batter and you hand me the ingredients I need.”

“Gotcha.”

[Y/n] and Tamaki successfully made the batter together, pouring it into the cupcake liners before sliding the pan into the oven. [Y/n] shut the oven before removing her mittens, smiling at Tamaki,

“Well, we did it! Now to wait twenty minutes.”

Tamaki smiled mischievously at [Y/n] as he inched closer to her, giving the female an uneasy feeling.

“You’ve got something. Uh- right...”

Tamaki suddenly smudged his thumb against the tip of [Y/n]’s nose, leaving a powdered substance mark.

“..There!”

[Y/n] gasped as she wiped the flour off of her nose,

“Oh, really? Looks like you’ve got something, too, actually. Right...”

[Y/n] smudged cake batter on Tamaki's cheek, giggling when he cringed at the texture.

“..There! You might want to get that off..”

Tamaki playfully glared at [Y/n], his hand now caked with flour,

“Oh, you’re so on!”

The two teens chased each other around the kitchen, turning it into a powdery/cake bater-ey mess. [Y/n] giggled while being chased by Tamaki when she suddenly slipped, crashing into the very blonde she was running from.

[Y/n] propped herself up on her elbows, realizing she was face-to-face with none other than Tamaki - who was underneath her. Neither of the two said anything, only staring into each other's eyes.

The sound of the timer going off lulled the two of their trance, [Y/n] rolling off of Tamaki as she slid her oven mitts on and took the cupcakes out of the oven.

After decorating the cupcakes together in an awkward silence, [Y/n] held up a cupcake towards Tamaki and smiled,

“Cheers!”

Tamaki gently smiled at the girl, pressing his cupcake against hers.

“Cheers, [Y/n].”

#x reader #ohshc x reader #black reader #ohshc #ouran highschool host club #tamaki suoh #tamaki suoh x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club x reader #tamaki x reader

10 notes · View notes

mil-doo · 10 months

Text

The antifascism of surfboarding robots

Wow. Look mom, I’m blogging.

So I just need to type up my thoughts on my Eureka Seven rewatch before they’re totally diluted by my next here and gone hyper fixation.

The first time I watched E7 was in high school a redacted amount of time ago, but to give you an idea I watched a lot of it in parts with severe buffering. I loved it. I loved love then, I love love now. I also love big robots and had my mind pressed through an Evangelion shaped playdoh press at the age of 15 and I feel I have that to thank for me becoming a real person. But that’s a bit of a tangent.

In my teens if I liked something, I mean if I really liked it, I’d rewatch it incessantly. SO I watched Eureka Seven over and over until my junior year of high school, around when I started getting a lot more self conscious about the art and entertainment I enjoyed.

Jump to today-ish and I’m right back where I started. I love Eureka Seven. I’ve gone through a bit of a light Gundam phase over the last year or so. Robots are in. Of course I was going to return to the surfing mech show.

The mech designs are great! They’re bulky, they’re colorful, they’re animated with an occasional expressiveness and when they explode they’re a bright powdery pink. What’s not to love. The palette of this show in general is lovely, it’s firmly set in an aesthetic that I find difficult to describe beyond the toy section of a mid aughts Discovery Channel store at your local mall.

More than the robots I was most captured by the character designs, the look of the landscapes and world, and the ship designs. I’m a sucker for flying wings and the ones here are Neat. The Gekko is also just such a wonderful ship design, inside and out, and I love that we get such a good feel for it as the show goes on.

It’s also impossible not to be grabbed by the politics of Eureka Seven and I’m kind of surprised I haven't read more about them elsewhere. Eureka Seven has one of the better portrayals of fascism and more importantly one of my favorite portrayals of antifascism I’ve seen in anything aimed at an all ages audience like this.

The show is deeply concerned with climate change and the ecosystem of the world at large, and in a way that goes much farther than just the comfort and survival of people. As a result our leader principle obsessed little freak, Dewey Novak, is a human supremacist driven by what he sees as the dignity of his species in the face of an environment that can’t support it unconditionally.

This feels incredibly prescient with the rise of eco-fascism and the increasingly inevitable rise of climate leviathan states (Joel Wainwright and Geoff Mann).

And thankfully none of this is to the exclusion of fascism’s violent cultural divisions. Being a show from 2005 produced by studio Bones, Eureka Seven is very much thinking about the United States’ wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and bombing campaigns across the globe. As a result the show demonstrates the process of alienating religious minorities and forcing them into violent acts of preservation that can be cleanly categorized by the state as terrorism.

It even shows how the decaying and ineffectual bureaucracy of the state can be consumed by the fascistic elements it had itself propagated and groomed in its own ranks for its benefit.

All of this resulting in a very holistic and digestible presentation of fascism in a show made for a younger audience.

We’ve talked about our fascism, let’s talk about our anti-fascism because it’s something I deeply appreciate in this show. For starters this it is unavoidably pro eco-terrorist. The Gekko and its flying circus of mechs is soaring across the globe being directly and lethally confrontational with the state and its destruction of the environment. And while the show does grapple with the human toll of these actions it’s never in a way that condemns those who fight the state in this fashion.

We have characters who share a conviction to safe guard the world that allows them to surf the waves they love without always sharing in the same tactics. Our romantic duo by the end of the show embrace a non lethal antifascism, destroying the tools of the state without destroying the bodies that composite it due to their discomfort with personally partaking in any greater violence than that. Meanwhile the crew of the Gekko continue to face the state head on with lethal means. By the end this is all done with a mutual respect and understanding.

It shows a multifaceted approach of antifascism as some characters only assist as medics, others in the capacity of artistry and journalism, and others still in a much more mundane logistical capacity. It shows a respect toward each individual’s unique toolset and the need for a great variety of hands working toward a kinder world.

All of this is steeped in the countercultural aesthetic of surfing and a deep love for music (and as a result we’re blessed with a unique and killer soundtrack). I really appreciate how Eureka Seven demonstrates what it’s for, what it loves, and what it wants far more than what it hates. It is a jubilant resistance.

To make a sharp turn back to our characters I couldn’t love the show without loving the relationship between Renton and Eureka. A relationship all about the powerful emotions of first love. It’s a romance that feels lived and earned. We start with one sided infatuation, with something that feels much bigger to our protagonist Retnon than it really is. And through the the course of their encounters we see the consequences of that culminating in a realization that what Renton has considered his love for Eureka was something that was initially selfish that resulted in convictions to protect her that she never asked for.

For a show made in 2005 it also nearly feels like it’s in conversation with the geek culture misogyny to fascist pipeline that blossomed in full in the 2010s.

After this realization, and as Eureka starts to understand her own feelings, we’re left with the development of a relationship that feels a lot more precious and tangible.

Okay, so it’s an abrupt close but I’ve talked enough. This was way more than what I originally intended to type. If you read all this, thank you. If you read some of this thank you but just not as much.

I think I plan on using this blog as a way to journal my thoughts about art I love as I find it or find it again. So maybe I’ll keep doing this blogging thing, who knows.

Anyway, thanks for being kind and get it by your hands 😌

#eureka seven #2000's/2009's anime #anime #retro anime #mecha #antifascism

15 notes · View notes

talesofealdancynedom · 5 months

Text

Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 24. The Small Apothocary (4/5)

Tale 43:The Small Apothecary (chapter 4 - The Plum Trees 4/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

The next day, Qilin sleep; unable to adjust to the time-zone change. He reluctantly got up, to start his work. Firstly, he asked various people what elixirs they might need. Qilin knew the local doctor required remedies to naga venom, flu symptoms, and bone repair; And others wanted light viles and water clensing; Things the traditional village lacked. So, next it was time to gather. Even if no recipe called for it, Qilin looked for specialties. Some mid-day golden dew, from the ruffled Dok Cahmpa was right there; beaming light the light of dawn. Good for pain, and only found in Doi Veng. These were the yellow flowers he dreamed of. But for the final request, he was comissioned sugar plum jam for sleep.

Qilin walked to the ever blossoming orchard; Various cherry, plum, and orange fruit fey, were planted neatly together; A fluffy arching crown of plush purple and pink. They sweetly whispered above a pool of lucky carp. But the enchanted fish no gave scales of fortune; they rejected every coin. Even the frosted plums forbid Qilin from having a single pome. With a despondent sigh, and empty basket, Qilin realized he needed a witch. For his recipes, the fey had to consent to being picked. Their gifts have different properties if taken without asking. Qilin preferred asking. He considered it violent, to steal pieces of fey.

Having lost, Qilin’s left the orchard in search of Aurum. It was his lucky day; He saw golden silks glow from the corner of his eye. Aurum was riding his familiar off the butte top. Qilin gasped, and ran after him. He had completely forgotten Aurum was showing him the water temple today.

The walk was silent between Qilin and Aurum. Qilin’s thoughts were busied by finally being able to perform traditions from his people. Also, the consuming frustration at current barriers to his craft. Meanwhile, Aurum shuddered at the thought of his neglectful mother being there; He was equally irational in the moment. Ironically, Aurum’s mother came to Doi Veng for the same reason as Qilin. However, money had corrupted her, and she succumb to depression while destroying Doi Veng. She was the very reason they fey acted so cold. For this reason, she now tended the temple and retired from magic.

At the temple, the walls crumbled as nature grew through them. But inside, there was a hall with carved jade walls. There was a set of bells, large gong, and trough of chalk, before a powdery wood floor. Light shone through the gaps of the pillars, and holes above the red beams. Pixies were sleeping about the ledges, that wafted of rose and sandalwood. Their honey would be perfect for making hex incense. Qilin was overwhelmed as he looked above, and walked closer to the chalk.

“How does this work?” Qilin inquired. He bumped into Aurm who was kneeling. Qilin decided to join him. The sound of a steam silently echoed, and Qilin felt himself merge with the moment. His previous thoughts now smothered. His face bright. Then, Aurum’s deep breaths ceased. He had never met someone of the Eastlands, who didn’t know how to give gratitude.

“Well?” Qilin smiled.

“Um, you grab the chalk in your palms, then slam your hands while bowing, and gently interlace your fingers behind your neck. Then reflect on what satisfies your being in that moment,” Aurum said, his head tilted. “Then meditate on the phrase ‘I am greatful for...” He demonstrated. The thud of the bow, and puff of chalk, nearly made Qilin second guess the ritual. He performed it perfectly, powdering white into his black hair. Soon, a singing bowl rang through the room. They sat up as one, in a state of serenity.

“What are you grateful for, Lin?” Aurum grinned. His own father would always ask the same. You can tell a lot about a person from what they appriciate.

“Having the opportunity to live here with my family. You?” Qilin smirked. Aurum stalled, and looked into the brushed bell brass before him.

“To see the colour yellow.” He said calmly. He gently got up, and left to the courtyard. Qilin tip-toes in suit. They sat in the shade of the clensing gingko, growing into the a wall. Crossed legs, well poised, silent, and resting.

The novelty of meditation, wore off quickly for Qilin. His mind wondered back to the rejection of the plums. He fidgeted with the urge to ask Aurum for aid, while unsure if disturbing meditation was allowed. He had meditated little in his life, aside from breathing exercises in school programs. Despite reading the teachings within the poetry of water. Qilin opened his eyes, and turned to Aurum. Tears were streaming down Aurum’s face, as his steady breath trembled. It came from the chest, no matter how hard he tried to use his stomach.

“Why are you crying?” Qilin whispered.

“It does not matter why I am sad. I get sad sometimes, then it goes away. I concentrate only on emptiness.” Aurum sighed, melting into his posture.

“Then how do you process emptiness? How do you let go?”

“Maybe I cry, because I am sad that I have let go. Purhaps right now, it is time to greave.” Aurum said, opening his eyes. His mother was adjacent, and smiling slightly. She wore orchid, with shimmering lotus trim.

“I’m bad at letting go.” Qilin shrugged. “Like, I can’t let go of those stupid sugar plums. This place was supposed to be....perfect.” He petered out. Aurum nodded, having already assumed as much. Aurum’s mother readjusted.

“I’m going now. Those are great thoughts to practice sitting with, Lin. Thoughts that when overcome, make you one with nothingness. Letting go, requires wisdom of what we cannot control. The world will not end because the fey are hesitant, and we feel strongly.” Aurum said, walking away. He seldom took his own medicine, despite his effort. To Qilin, those words made him go red from frustration.

Aurum didn’t fully embrace a single thing he touted most days. He had only been practising for a few years. It can take a lifetime to act on such beliefs. Aurum may need two lifetimes; He had a lot of issues: Feeling incompetent for being coddled, traumatized for being imprisoned, and hard feelings towards his parents for their mistakes. He knew being in the moment would prevent looking back, and alternatively the now is not always pleasant. Like Qilin, Aurum also struggled to sustain his meditation. Aurum radiated a dark presence as he rode back to the village. Like he would block out the sun for anything that dared to near him. That stupid boy was summoning Aurum’s pain with all those questions. Testing his ability to remain present. The flaw of the ways of water, is that human hearts are responsive, thus creating desire and hate. People seek opposites, and fulfillment. They are not like fey. The flow of all things, is inconsistent with humanity’s stubbornness.

Aurum spent three hours coaxing the trees to give up a few plums to help Qilin.

“I don’t believe he is a greedy wizard. He is not from my family. I think he is like our village’s people. He wants simplicity, and your charity, to aid us all. What If I ask you for plums? As your mage who adores you, am I worthy? Am I able to receive your gifts to help the forest?”

“We will trust you for now, mage. But if this boy misuses our gifts, we will gladly have the more mobile fey scare him off.” The orchard threatened. It was so unlike them. Fey catastrophizing? Often, the childlike neutral nature of fey, made them the best teachers of embracing each moment’s wonder and joy. But like people, they know fear and desire. Nothing is immune. Aurum was only able to procure half the ingredients Qilin needed.

“Can you give him more? I want to sleep.” A familiar voice called into the trees. Kugu was feeding rice cakes to the lucky carp, while listlessly humming a lullaby to endear them. She wore her same printed pastel clothes. The trees dropped more flowers and fruit. Aurum’s gaze lingered on Kugu’s forlorn face. He snapped out of it when she thanked them.

Aurum walked over to crouch next to Kugu; The garden was empty in the afternoon. All they heard was birds and fey whipers.

“Thanks.” Aurum smiled.

“I just want a regular sleep cycle.”

“No, I mean for going outside so we can smile with you. You even helped Qilin,” Aurum said, looking at his reflection in the pool. “Honestly I’m sick of only seeing you stare at the wall, each time I sneak in to rid the goblins from your yard.”

“I don’t need pity.” Kugu scoffed.

“Maybe you need tea? I’ve heard good things about tea. I’d love to make some for you some time.” Aurum tensed. Kugu laughed a little. The carp gave them scales.

“Maybe after you give that apothecary his ingredients, and my father overcomes his worry. He should go to the temple too,” Kugu growled. “I like to think it’s working for me. I hope magic can cure me. I should’ve never studied in the city.”

“Should is a toxic word. Like always and never. Best advice my nanny ever gave me.” Aurum said, examining the orange scales. He got up to leave, and waved goodbye. Kugu tried to smile back. Even lost in his glow, she couldn’t do it quite yet.

Qilin nearly feinted at the basket of goods; He could start brewing this very night. There was an encouraging note from his mother. Qilin read it while setting up. The plum jam needed to be brewed under a full moon, all night; Qilin would need to multitask to stay awake. As the sun set, he got to work cutting and grinding. Sugar plum, frosted orange peel, and starlit sugar cane. He had brewing flasks, vials of every material, and all the tools and stoves he needed; Including a pot to make smoked fish rice, as he missed dinner.

After a night’s work, the jam had turned white. To test, he put a spoonful on a plate; It froze the entire table. The plums hadn’t fully consented to sharing their gifts. The elixir could be used in small does to cool food or make ice, so it wasn’t a full loss. But Qilin was deeply disappointed. Not only did he fail brewing for the first time in a year, but the fey didn’t like him. As dawn came, Qilin staggered back to the temple, and feel asleep while meditating until midday; When he could make the golden dew. He was given a singing bowl for the very task. If had a fierly lusture from the dragon forged bell brass. However, Qilin’s confidence was shattered. He lost his posture. Having awoken, his breathing was uneven, but still deep. Like a gasping fish.

“Why are you crying?” Kugu asked. Silence.

“Well, I cry for failing to get a degree, and believing for a moment such things mattered when places like this exist.” She continued. Qilin looked up to see her undone hair and calm face. She wore a silver satin sabok skirt, that glimmered like the moon. She looked nice today. Their eyes met. Qilin’s tears soaked his dirty emerald wrapped pants and sash; He wore only the pants of his dirty wizarding robes.

“You don’t have to share.” Kugu shrugged.

“I cry, because today my mind reminds me I can fail.” Qilin admitted.

“The plums hate everyone. You’re not special,” Kugu snorted. “Well, they like me I guess; Enough to give the other half of your ingredients when I requested your potion.”

“Thanks. Now tell me your secrets. The fey here are resistant to friendship.” Qilin grined.

“I would have ascended to the next spiritual plane, if I knew the ways of fey.” Kugu rolled her eyes.

“Well, me and Aurum know the ways of fey, and I assure you we’re both currently incompetent.”

“He offered to let me watch him burn himself on a stove; To make tea to warm me. Something about it having special properties.”

“Probably something my mom said.”

“I think I said yes, even though I have trouble bonding with people. But with that workaholic, whose smile and misguided mind; He makes me weak. It feels like he’s always there for me. But I can’t get myself to-”

“bonding and getting attention? Just crawl into his window uninvited! I got a week’s detention for that, and I wasn’t even the one naked. The guy didn’t return my textbook, and I had a test the next day. You’ll never forget a moment like that. That’s the secret to bonding with someone.” Quilin suggested. Kugu finally managed a smile.

<---PREVIOUS

NEXT --->

#tales of ealdan cynedom #fantasy #short stories #aurum

0 notes

mxldito · 6 months

Text

Dinner Diary #8

I left to watch the light in the sky, milky pollution swirling like poison in a glass of water above, numbers and letters in the stars, clouds, airplanes, and the strange lights that nobody seemed to notice. Sitting here on the hood of my car, in the parking lot of some park, the truth is so sharp that it cuts my eyes and I feel as though I could bleed. It stings so much that I grit my teeth. Agony. Agony. Hunger. Agony. Hunger. Hunger. It bleeds more on an empty stomach.

You’re nasty when you bleed but that never stops Dead Ones. The sweet ones don’t last long in this existence. Wise or bitter up. Sweetness never lasts. But sometimes there are sweet Breathing Ones who mistake glossy vacant stares for something more than just hunger. That’s not their fault. He saw somebody alone. He got worried. What a sweet guy. I saw him before he even approached me.

As ordinary as they come, what a lucky existence. Lucky you. His brown hair was just a little thin near the front, his skin just a little pink, and his eyes were an average brown. Some kind of salaryman with his tie a little loose and his sleeves rolled up to his freckled elbows. I could smell a wife and children on him, that powdery smell of babies and a polyester chemise he had run his hands over when he kissed her goodbye this morning. We would have envied him a few years ago. Domestic. Mundane. Reliable. These are things that are unattainable to even the most comfortable of us. We would’ve wanted to get married. Maybe even thought about having children at one point. But that’s not a possibility. We’re okay with that now. The Star was not long for this world and couldn’t see that happening. There are already plenty of trembling children in the world. Me, I find myself an icy warmongering older brother more than anything else. My soldiers are my siblings, other way around. At least we’re all willing. “Beautiful night out, eh?” He says. Taking a good look, I see him get thrown off by sunglasses, tattoos, and a Rat Fink tank top that looks more tired than him. Young, miserable, and in trouble is what he reads. “Same kind of night it is most nights. But that’s what makes it comfortable, right?” That fake sad smile. I gave him a sigh, leaning forward onto my knees. There is a moment where he’s not sure what to say. This is all terribly presumptuous, even if he means well. “Yeah, I suppose so!” Trying to sound enthusiastic. He stops again, feeling awkward as he tries to figure out what he wants to say next. “. . .I’m sorry if I’m intruding. It’s just that you looked alone. I just wanted to erm. . .” Stammering.

Smiling again, nodding this time. “No, no. You’re fine! Not a lot of people would check up on a stranger.” Here’s an idea. “I don’t really talk to anybody about a lot of things but if you want-. Could you just sit with me for a little bit? And listen?” Sounding on the verge of tears, I wanted to laugh. He hesitates for a moment but he feels strangely compelled. He felt as though my life depended on whether or not he’d choose to sit with me. Surely, this weedy looking youngster wouldn’t be able to hurt him if they tried, right? Besides, they sound so sad. This kid has nobody to lean on. I take my sunglasses off and take his eyes with mine. “Stop fucking thinking about it and come sit next to me.” Resisting me when he’s already in my grasp, he isn’t strong enough. Humans are so easy. He sits next to me without a word. His gaze locked into the empty park in front of us, “Keep looking that way and listen until I tell you you can stop.” And he doesn’t move, only sits and listens. “A gelatinous heart is the easiest to crush, you know that? I’m nice. Lucky you.” I look over his lightly aged skin down to his neck. “You were probably just going to tell me that you’ve been where I am. That I have my whole life ahead of me. That I should look to get out of it before it’s too late. Just like you and everybody and everything else on this planet that eats and sleeps, there’s only one way out. I hope you and your babies and wife never find yourselves where I am.”

Leaning in close enough that I can feel the heat of his body radiating onto my face. I submit to my feelings: “I’m jealous.” But I can’t deny: “It’s the most ordinary of you that are the kindest but you can’t stop for every sad-looking stranger you see on your way home from work. You can look away now.” Bewildered, he doesn’t remember sitting with me or a single word I just said. I put my mouth on his neck and he’s sweet. He’s comfortable. He does his best for his family, his normalcy. I won’t let him slip away, I hardly ever do. He’ll wake up feeling sick and maybe at the end of the night, I’ll still feel that envy. A confused grunt, hand flailing against my shoulder unsure of whether to push me away or pull me closer. I drop him off the car onto the gravel below, he’s unconscious. I didn’t need to but I did anyway. He would’ve come to me if I had just been patient enough. I didn’t need to but I did anyway. I didn’t need to but I did anyway. I didn’t need to but I did anyway. He won’t remember me by the time he wakes up. And I’ll probably forget about him in a few nights. - Good morning.

#⮚ The Menendez Dinner Diary #⮚ Journal Entry

0 notes

littlemissnoname13 · 3 years

Note

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were.

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that.

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up.

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate.

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair.

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on.

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it.

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too.

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain.

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart.

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up.

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you.

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you.

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips.

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting.

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class.

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right.

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals.

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one.

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.” Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever.

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow.

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class.

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be.

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing.

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair.

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party.

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one.

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor, Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out.

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle.

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud.

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered.

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one.

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating.

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls.

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number.

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile.

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there.

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all.

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you.

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together.

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back.

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away.

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring.

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away.

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed.

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes.

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him.

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open.

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried.

Lumos.

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you.

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning.

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink.

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you.

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

“It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged.

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?”

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar.

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.”

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back.

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket.

“How come?”

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.”

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged.

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem.

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red.

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating.

“It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded.

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move.

“What does red mean to you y/n?”

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him.

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless.

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?”

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away.

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands.

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips.

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles.

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all.

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop.

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like.

It tasted like your wine stained lips.

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return.

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet.

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing.

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.”

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost.

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms.

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.”

FIN.

~~~

Draco fluff/general tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @dlmmdl @desiredmalfoy @trainintersection @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @lolooo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dracomalfoyisindahouse @the-bisexual-bitch @sycathorn-slush @lalunemoonstone @supermisunderstoodoceans @belladaises @riddleswh0r3crux @justreadingficsdontmindme @axdxis @97santoki @laceycallisto @haroldpotterson @thetipsysaquatch @darlingmalfoy @letsmariya @malfoysbiitch @turn-to-page-394-please @malfoysgem @m4lf0ym1lk3rs @ameliasbitvh @slythermuf @wolfstar_lb @underappreciated-spoon-321 @yiamalfoy @youreso-golden @dracoscum @mvdbldd @naisnape @o-rion-sta-r @arianagreyy @carnationbasement @dilf-lover21 @louweasleymalfoy @fa-me @dracoswhore007

(sorry if I missed anyone. Please look into your privacy settings if I was unable to tag you. x )

Join my tag list here .

Alternatively, you can message me if you’d like to be added or removed from my list.

Love,

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader fluff #draco fluff #draco one shot #draco fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x yn #draco x you

674 notes · View notes

almatiarau · 2 years

Text

Real Thing (JJK x F. Reader Drabble)

Ø Pairing: Husband! Jungkook x Wife! F.Reader

Ø Genre: Fluff

Ø Rating: PG-13

Ø Warnings: kissing, and nothing really, it’s just a fluffy fluff drabble

Ø Word Count: ~1k

Ø Disclaimers: I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me! Also don’t mix up the visual for this fic with their real life, be wise 😉

Ø Summary: Just one scene from your honeymoon with your newlywed husband, Mr Jeon Jungkook

Ø A/N: Hello! This is just a small drabble I wrote because I’ve been loving the new song from Pink Sweats & Tory Kelly - Real Thing. I hope you enjoy this mini story of just root toothing fluff really. Thank you!

“Jungkook, where are we going?” Your arms stretch out before you, trying to feel anything, with your eyes blindfolded, there’s really nothing you can see, trusting your steps on your husband’s guidance around your waist.

Husband. The word still sounded foreign in your mind. Jungkook was the boyfriend of your dreams for a good 5 years before he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him. So here you are, on your honeymoon trip with your husband for the past 24 hours. Since you and him couldn’t get away from work too long, you decided to go for honeymoon straight from your reception. Thinking it would be better to spend another 2 weeks on a tropical getaway directly before having to come back to your daily life.

“Just trust me baby.” He whispers in your ear, hands on your waist guiding you slowly.

You are about to whine when you feel him stepping away from you, but refrain to do so when he actually unties the blindfold around your eyes. You squint your eyes a little bit from the sudden lights, even though you slowly realize that the lights are very dimmed actually. Taking up your surroundings, it’s actually the little backyard of your private villa that you both rented for your honeymoon, but it’s now had little candles spreading around. A small table with 2 chairs located in the centre, just besides the small swimming pool, and you realize that even there are candles scattered around the pool along with pink and red rose petals.

The table is lit with candlesticks and there’s a smaller table where Jungkook’s favorite portable Bluetooth speaker is located, the sound of Pink Sweats & Tori Kelly’s Real Thing playing softly. It’s your current favorite song, and even you asked them to play it on your wedding yesterday.

“Baby, what is this??” You spin around, squeezing Jungkook’s buffed arms. Your eyes still wide in awe.

“Just a little something something for my wife.” Emphasizing on the word wife, he kisses your temple. “We’ll have some dinner here, and…” He spins you around before catching you in a tight hug. “We’ve always wanted to slow dance right? Since we didn’t get it yesterday, I was thinking that maybe we can do it now.”

Slowly he takes both of your hands to put around his neck, while his tightly holding your waist. You both sway a little bit to the rhythm of the slow song, savouring each other’s presence. Jungkook kisses the top of your hand, inhaling your fruity shampoo scent that he always loves.

“You make me feel like heaven is a real place… I’ll bet on us cause I know it’s the real thing…”

Your husband’s heavenly voice fills the air as he sings a long with the song, hands rubbing your back earnestly. You sigh with content, head resting against his broad chest. He always smells like powdery fresh cotton and you love it so much. Jungkook looks tough from the outside, with his full sleeve tattoos, ears, eyebrow and lips piercings, tall muscular body, but deep inside he’s such a loving laid back boyish man that loves to cuddle with you, loves watching cooking tutorial in Youtube and ask you to recreate it on the weekends, he cries watching Pixar movies with you, and he doesn’t like strong men perfumes, opting for light unisex ones.

But those qualities are what makes you love him even more, those endearing traits of his, makes you fall for Jungkook each and everyday, as if you haven’t spent the last 5 years by his side.

“Kook…”

He hums against the top of your hair, right cheek lays comfortably against the side of your head.

“Why do you love me?”

He lets out a chuckle, earning a little slap on his hard pecks from you.

“I’m serious, you could have chosen any other woman in this world.”

“Baby, where is this coming from? I love you because of you.” He still can’t hold his chuckle, nose scrunching up a bit, another habit of his you love so much.

“No… I mean, what qualities of me that makes you love me?”

He looks straight into your eyes, amused that you are really determined to find out about this. Especially since he always knows you as a very confident woman.

“Okay okay, first of all, I love how passionate you are about your work, your hobbies, I love seeing you engross in things that you enjoy.” He steals a quick kiss from your lips. “Also, I love how empathetic you are to others, you help me feel grounded with the way you always try putting yourself in other’s shoes.”

Your eyes are now glistening with tears.

“I love the way you love your family, and then my family too, making me feel safe and sure that you will love me and our future children like that.”

“Baby…” You caress his cheek in adoration.

“To me, you always feel like home, so there’s no reason for me not to build a real home for us, so that I can come home to you, figuratively and literally.”

You can’t help but giggle, he’s such a dork sometimes and yet, another quality of his that you adore.

“Adore you, I do, no lie, I’m yours and you’re mine for life~”

Jungkook continues singing along with the song and you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest with the abundance of love you have for him. Bodies still glued onto each other in warm embrace, swaying lightly from right to left, drowning into the music. When you look up at him, his doe eyes are wide and filled with love.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook, and I promise to do so until we are old and grey.”

He kisses you again, he always tastes like mint chocolate, and it’s one of your favourite flavour for sure.

“I love you too Mrs. Jeon Y/N, and I promise to protect you, cherish you, until my last breath.”

You make me feel like heaven is a real place

I bet on us cause I know it’s the real thing

You make me feel like heaven ain’t so far away

Cause with you I know I got the real thing

Real Thing – Pink Sweats feat. Tori Kelly.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook ff #jungkook drabbles #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #bts drabbles #bts valentine fic

98 notes · View notes

deathwishdaydream · 2 years

Text

Dear Universe, Up Yours!

Chapter 1

"Now, for the first time, he's seeing that there really is a way out of this, and it's all so simple. You don't have to run away. You just meet somebody special and step sideways into a parallel universe."

-Irvine Welsh, Skagboys

I never found anybody interesting in my life. I've never succumbed to the tedium of this place. I always felt out of place, but that was probably because everyone else was so dead. And I dreaded the realization that I'd stay here forever.

"And then," My mind seemingly brought itself back inside of the desolate, sterile classroom as the science teacher, Mr. Bradford spoke, "The swab would turn into a light pink color because blood contains hemoglobin, which would assist the peroxide in reacting with the hydrogen in phenolphthalein, turning into water. The decreased hydrogen form of phenolphthalein would then make it turn pink, revealing that it is indeed blood. But if it wasn't blood and just looked like it could have been, then no reaction would occur and the swab would stay its natural color."

I literally have no idea what the fuck is going on.

We completed a lesson earlier than expected, so the class decided that, with the remaining time of the period, they wanted to learn something of forensic science. Though actually, it was the teacher who decided, because nobody really reacted when he offered the knowledge. This made me miserably realize how long an hour really is. While this happened, I fiddled with a piece of lead from my mechanical pencil, rubbing it between my fingers to see the shiny gray chaos appear on my fingertips, then breaking it into smaller pieces or crushing them instead of paying attention. The graphite made a horrific, powdery mess on the light brown surface of the glossy wooden table. The teacher, with his small rectangular glasses, always had the worst monotone voice that could get the whole class to drop dead asleep. His hair was mostly gray, flooding all the young, auburn strands, but he wasn't too old. He always wore the same boring polos in different colors every week with pants that have always been the same color every single day. I'd say the students in this class are worse, though. Nobody talks or pays attention. It was fucking stupid. I wish I could just stand up from my seat and leave out the door. Science is my least favorite class out of all of mine. And I hate all of my classes, so that says a lot. It was no exaggeration. It was boring and the students were boring, the teacher was boring. Everything that has anything to do with my school is boring, really. It was all so pathetic.

I heard the cheap bell ringing, and all the students stood up from their chairs in unison, as if they were some fucking cult, and then the teacher, drowned out by all the students speaking, reminded them to do homework and other useless things that they're probably not going to do. I stacked my notebook and papers, putting them in my bag that I had thrown over my shoulder after. Walking out of the classroom with all the students brutally crowding towards the door as if that bell had been a fire alarm instead, I accidentally bumped into my lab partner, Gerard Way, and muttered a quick "sorry" as I got out of the classroom to the hallway. I didn't really know him that well or paid much attention to him at all, being someone who sat next to him since the beginning of the year. Which actually had just been a month. There would be times when he'd try to talk to me about the work but that was pretty much it. He had pale skin, black messy hair, and brown eyes, I believe. He was a regular teenage boy that I had to sit next to in science class and was very quiet and reserved.

[ "I Died Inside" by Lesley Gore playing]

As I walked into the hallway, it was narrow and cramped, swarmed with roaring, energetic bags of hormones. It was probably a better way to describe "high school students" here; it was a more accurate description, as someone who observes things a lot. I felt myself being viciously pushed around and shoved from every angle, but I kept my head forward, walking straight ahead, as my peripheral vision caught paper airplanes flying across the hallway.

I never interacted with anyone at all. I don't think it was because I was repulsive. Nobody can judge that because nobody had spent a whole day with me in conversation. I never made friends, I didn't want to. It was hard to, anyway. It's not that I was purposefully isolating myself from everybody in the first place, or trying to be different and "mysterious." I'm convinced everyone is either dead or tries too hard to be part of the television clichés that it was useless to really speak to anybody. Maybe being impatient myself was a flaw nobody would want to deal with. So nothing really mattered. I made no effort to make friends with anyone. And it's been like that since freshman year. After all, I'm just another immature, shit seventeen-year-old.

[ "I Died Inside" muffled]

Soon, as the crowd gradually began to simmer down, I found my locker and exchanged a few things from my backpack for next class. I can't believe that having to go through the crowd of students took most of passing period. It's always been short, anyway. I don't really know why. For being a public school, it's really trying to avoid the high school clichés. We barely had time for anything.

Once I was done, I slammed the locker closed and went off to next period.

[ "I Died Inside" stops playing]

Nothing important occurred ever at all. It was the same routine, and the only change that happened was the units and lesson topics, changed seatings, and so forth. It wasn't only at school, either. Every day was the fucking same. Everything was fucking boring. Staying home on weekends and after school, doing absolutely nothing, waiting until the scintillating sunlight leaked from the half-closed blinds in my room to fade away to nighttime again. I'd kill to have a life that wasn't this. I felt like a zombie, really, and I think everyone else was too. Just mindlessly bumping into things in front of them because of their diminutive brain. It was like everyone in this town was a walking corpse. I fucking hated it all.

I found my way inside the math classroom and dropped my backpack on the floor beside my chair, sitting down at my desk, my palms on the cold, wooden surface of the table. I heard strewn chattering from the kids all around me and the teacher was just at her large box computer, going to the front of the class afterward.

She told us simply to get out our textbooks and I did so, flipping around random pages until she'd tell us which page we really should have been on. As I nonchalantly flipped through, I saw some indolent sketches and doodles on the sides that I drew from other times.

And even the drawings were fucking boring.

Suddenly, my head popped up briskly from looking down at the book as I heard the sound of the door opening. The door was really old, so it made a squeaky shrill every time it was opened or closed. At the door was the boy from science, my lab partner, Gerard. The class had just gone mute as they all stared at him in extreme disdain. Gerard didn't go to math this period, so that was probably why everyone was acting so strange about him. It was too incongruously strange, in fact, which was another perceptible flaw of this town. He gulped as he noticed all the eyes scornfully watching him and then quickly turned to the teacher, giving her some sort of paper and an orange envelope underneath it.

"From the front office," he said in a raspy voice, crucially tearing the nasty silence. The room was so quiet that if he spoke once more, I'd be hearing an echo. His voice sounded really dry, and I think it was because he hadn't spoken in a long time and never cleared his throat before. This made his tone sound a bit deeper than usual, as it always was a bit more high-pitched. The teacher, Ms. Lewis, held the items and muttered a thanks, the slight sound of paper being rubbed against paper filling the room. Gerard finally cleared his throat and nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. She took out a paper from the envelope, skimmed it, then put it back in, placing it and the other paper that was separate from it, on her desk.

But after he left, a few students started to talk with each other and it got to a point it was deafening until the teacher spoke loudly about, I don't know, the page number and how the boy leaving the classroom wasn't an invitation to start talking again.

Gerard was a peculiar boy. He wasn't interesting though, like how the rest of the people here weren't either. Again, I never thought of anybody as interesting in my life at all. Maybe because I didn't care enough. But he was in fact, peculiar. He stood out from the other kids, well, from my view, and he was tremendously soundless as if he had just been tranquilized. It was like he was in a shell that had a small opening and just a few cracks so that people could properly hear him whenever he merely spoke.

Math ended after an agonizingly lengthy 85 minutes. I'm surprised I'm receiving okay grades because I actually don't do much. I don't really think the teachers here care about their job too much, so they just grade whatever. That's my theory, at least. After this period, it was lunch, and everyone left in a whole scramble by the door, again.

[Verse 1 of "DemiRep" by Bikini Kill playing]

I'm not a fan of the school lunch. I never was. Who would be, anyway? It was always so stale and never tasted right. Once I have gone to the cafeteria and retrieved a tray with the deplorable meal on it, I sat at an empty table, observing every other one that was full of people laughing and chatting. I then opened the small carton of chocolate milk and inserted those small straws they would give us. I brought it up to my mouth and sipped it, placing it back on the tray afterward.

I was just about to take a bite out of my sandwich until I jumped, alarmed by the sudden sound of a tray full of school lunch falling flat beside mine. Someone then sat down on the bench next to me. It was Gerard. He faced me.

[ "DemiRep" muffled]

"Hey," I greeted quietly.

He cleared his throat, and thank god for that. "Hey."

[ "DemiRep" stops playing]

As I started to eat, he took off his black backpack and put it on the bench next to him, zipping it open and taking out a paper packet. He placed it on the table and slid it in my direction, clearing his throat again to speak. "You dropped this at the end of science," he mumbled.

I put the sandwich back on the tray and idly scanned the snobby paper. My name was on the top in my handwriting, along with some more stupid doodles I did out of boredom. The packet was some kind of introduction to some crappy project.

I wasn't a very rude person, though. At least just when someone approaches me for something simple. "Thanks," I muttered, grabbing my backpack and shoving the packet inside.

I kept eating in complete silence, despite all the surrounding students conversing and laughing with each other, and Gerard was just eating beside me. And I think this allowed me to pay more attention to his appearance. He had thick, wavy dark strands that were nearly black. And to be completely honest, it appeared a bit greasy, but it was his whole style and had fit him very well. It was kind of weird to think further into it. He had a few thin, long bangs that would sometimes go over his face, but not too much. You couldn't really tell which way his hair was parted, maybe a little to the side. It was so messy that it looked neat and natural, if that made any sense. He had soft pale skin, it was probably a pale ivory. There were fainted, small freckles painted around his rounded face, but maybe only if you look close enough. The roundness of his jaw made him look really innocent and sweet. That there was no way he could have committed any sin in his life at all. He was sort of like a baby, but one that loved listening to Carrie Brownstein and Pulp. Well, that was one of the few things I knew about him: having a passionate fondness for Britpop. He possessed hazel irises that would have a greener tint in the light and brown when it's dark. I wasn't really sure how to explain it. His eyelashes were dark and pretty long. They looked nice. He looked like somebody you wanted to be ridiculously careful with because of fragile he appeared. I guess I never really realized how soft he seemed.

"Do you like eating here alone?" he said abruptly, breaking the silence and my train of thought, which made me lightly jump. His voice was delicate too when I thought more about it.

To answer his question, I liked the silence, really. It allowed me to contemplate more instead of being interrupted by someone asking multiple questions like a fucking cop interrogating me. Being lonesome just felt right; I didn't have to deal with any bullshit.

I swallowed the bite of the sandwich I chewed in my mouth and turned my head to look at him. "Yes."

"Can I ask why?" I would be complaining about how nosy he seemed, but I guess that's a way of someone trying to start a conversation. They always ended up in me repelling whoever tried to talk to me, though. But I thought I'd answer his question anyway so it would conceivably lead to that.

"I don't like when other people are around. It gives me a... weird feeling..." I began. There was a short pause. "I hate having to give an effort to either look at a person and tell them to shut the fuck up and leave me alone at lunch. I just want to be alone in peace and eat without any interruptions. A lot of people started to figure that out here, I guess, which is why they don't approach me anymore. I hate when people would just sit there, expecting me to say something to them when I don't want to say anything," I explained concisely as Gerard raised an eyebrow in disarray. "Now..." I began. "Shut the fuck up... and leave me alone..." I paused. "Please?"

[ "I Wonder Why" by Dion & The Belmonts playing]

I knew he didn't deserve that. I knew I had just acted like a total asshole right now. He didn't even speak enough to be shut up. There was something about always rejecting people who would try to talk to me when I was busy. I would get annoyed easily and angry. But I knew that Gerard didn't deserve that. I guess I never felt guilty about it until he had approached me. It was weird.

He smiled slightly and put his arms down, reaching for his milk carton and opening it. He drank some and put it back on the table, wiping his mouth with his jacket sleeve. "Okay."

He didn't smile in an embarrassed way like how other people would react when I'd tell them that. Instead, it was a smile of amusement. Kind of like he was entertained. Did he want this reaction? Or did he just think it was funny?

He stood up and grabbed his tray, walked to another table far from the one I sat at, and started to eat. As time passed and I ate, I would see him get a glance in my direction. Each time I would take bites out of my sandwich or drink my milk, I'd look up to see Gerard looking at me, and then he'd quickly look back at his lunch tray. I tended to ignore it. I could feel his eyes on me. Maybe he hated me now or thought something else of me. To think about it, I surprisingly did the more talking this time compared to the other times someone would try to talk to me during lunch. They would always talk more and point out how lonely I was. It was pretty weird...

Gerard is interesting... Peculiar, as well as interesting.

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #my chemical romance #mcr fanfiction #mcr fic #dear universe up yours #gender neutral fanfic #mcr

21 notes · View notes