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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

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•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

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Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished.

Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his.

Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***

You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself.

You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep.

It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

"I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he?

His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box.

When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you.

***

You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat.

"I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath.

"Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting.

He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease.

"So, uh- coffee?" He wonders.

"I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

"No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming.

Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass.

His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body.

They call him Dabi.

"So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling.

It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway.

"If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact.

"You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood."

Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options.

"I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter.

"Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away.

"Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice.

Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak.

"Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there.

Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder.

"Don't be late."

***

"You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

"Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something.

That must come with being a hero.

"Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink.

"No, but it helps me focus."

You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends.

"Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips.

Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward.

Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

"Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word.

"It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing.

But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes.

He can't, though… not yet.

"S-sorry…" He whispers.

And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart.

So you do want him too.

"Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly.

You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings.

"Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more.

He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you.

***

The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other.

You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him.

His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are?

You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.

Inside your house.

Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking.

There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook.

The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway.

They're heading straight for your bedroom.

You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock.

You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open.

"Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom.

You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall.

"Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time.

Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell.

"P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-"

Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone.

"Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement.

Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked.

"Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?"

Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning.

Suneater.

Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight.

You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him.

The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you.

"If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.

"She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki.

You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed.

The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face.

"Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically.

You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok."

His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you.

"Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you.

You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention.

"I love it." You say quietly, still trembling.

He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace?

"It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek.

You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease?

His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you.

"Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body.

"Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back.

"Anything. Anything for you."

That line, that makes you ache.

How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered.

Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

"If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch.

He feels it too, then.

Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts?

His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic.

"Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips.

Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight.

He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his.

While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in.

"I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours.

You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy.

"Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell.

"God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret.

"Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both.

You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki.

"Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him.

"I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Who said I don't want that?"

You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream.

"Fuck."

His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip.

He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly.

Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms.

He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer.

She's mine now.

Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus.

His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin.

Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds.

One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you.

After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks.

"I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame.

You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more.

Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more.

"I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it.

"You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground.

Mine.

The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart.

He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress.

You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you.

"Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek.

The question has your stomach burning with nerves.

No, nobody ever has.

You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment.

His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs.

"Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately.

His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one.

Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger.

"Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped.

Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition.

“Please…” You breathe.

And that’s all it takes.

His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back.

Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look.

“When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating.

He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush.

“Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.”

Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong.

It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up.

He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him.

“Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes.

You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you.

His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t.

“Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

“Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more.

“Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees.

Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them.

His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs.

He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you.

“I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you.

“Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions.

His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form.

“Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen.

You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said.

“Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing.

His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance.

“Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down.

You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing.

You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked.

“Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name.

By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did.

“That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again.

You? What about you?

Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy.

Not yet, don’t fuck this up.

“Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes.

“Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in.

Hold it. Not. Yet.

“You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise.

He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself.

“So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not.

Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view.

His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes.

“You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache.

“You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet.

You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words.

“Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged.

“I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out.

He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles.

“It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.”

The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was.

"Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair.

“There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder.

So she likes it.

Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him.

Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body.

"Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast.

It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough.

"Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you.

"I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop."

He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him.

Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting.

"Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want."

His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh.

You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me."

He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused.

"Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself.

"Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me."

Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world.

"I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing.

It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are.

It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks.

Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth.

"Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough."

Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki.

He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed."

You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible.

Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you.

Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess.

Perfect.

Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth.

His quirk.

He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good.

You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams.

He hates that.

With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery.

It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good.

He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

“Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body.

The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum.

Then you feel the prodding at your entrance.

Then you really scream.

Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

"Holy fucking shit." You gasp.

He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love.

You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy.

He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it.

You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else.

As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands.

The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him.

You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat.

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin.

“You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.”

The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine.

“In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum.

“Something tells me you did too.” He whispers.

Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly.

He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.”

To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off.

“Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips.

“Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.”

He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you.

He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you.

“What do you say?” He asks.

You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.”

“Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants.

You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm.

"Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words.

A challenge.

You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it?

In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back.

Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length.

He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense.

Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling.

More more more.

"Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg.

Under control.

"Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt.

"Tell me you need me."

You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them.

He needs to feel needed.

"Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater."

Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move.

Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow.

"Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding.

And holy hell does it get you going.

"You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him.

You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip.

With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard.

"Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips.

The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls.

"Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him.

"So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?"

You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come.

"I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him.

"I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice.

The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet.

His damn quirk.

He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen.

He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest.

"Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position.

With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat.

Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his.

You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart.

"Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens.

You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it.

"Here, let me give that mouth something to do."

His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip.

The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you.

You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to.

"You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own.

You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you.

"You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping."

You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you.

Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips.

A pretty little mess indeed.

Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in.

"Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of.

His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing.

"You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock."

His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench.

He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you.

It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more.

“What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess.

Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips.

“So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest.

The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming.

“Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience.

“I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts.

Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock.

Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut."

He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit.

"Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it.

Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down.

He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard.

"Can you take more, angel?"

You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try.

"Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to."

He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert.

His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way.

You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration.

"You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real."

Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips.

Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion.

He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you.

With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing.

"I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you."

He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up.

"You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs.

You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look.

He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more.

She's mine. She said I have her.

The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control.

His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs.

You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you.

"I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair.

He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission.

"Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips.

You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him.

"Please, I want all of it." m.

“Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes.

It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity.

“We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit.

“You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament.

“You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his.

“Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin.

“That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.”

Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again.

“Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning.

“No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.”

“That’s my girl.”

His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die.

You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface.

When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth.

“Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut.

“You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.”

His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.”

It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart.

Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.

“Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet.

Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work.

You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it.

He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction.

You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started.

“More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle.

The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more.

“Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.”

That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him.

It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you.

“I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling.

Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you.

“You’re such a good little girl.”

His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath.

"Angel?"

The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

"Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly.

The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands.

You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good."

You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you.

"You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss.

He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind.

He's allowed to feel this, he earned this.

When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind.

You don't, though.

You stay there with him, loving him and full of him.

"And you're mine."

You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more.

Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know.

It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways.

He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful.

You belong to him now, and that's all that there is.

"Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance.

“You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.”

He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut.

“These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you.

“This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck.

‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes.

You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago.

“I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest.

You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession.

He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap.

Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs.

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.”

You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own.

Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration.

This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you.

He intends on keeping it that way.

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years ago

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 15

A/N: well, the end is finally here. I’m not done with this lil au by any other means, there are some oneshots (like missing scenes from this story that I couldn’t get to flow with the rest of the fic) and some oneshots that take place before and after this story. there is also a nature wives sequel that I am contemplating. anyway, I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you to all the love this fic has gotten. when I set out to write this, I never imagined it getting this much love. I was writing this story mostly for myself, and this has been a work that I have never been more motivated to write, and that is largely due to the love that it has gotten. again, thank you so much. and I wrote this chapter while listening to Like Real People Do by Hozier on loop, I think it fits the mood of this chapter very well.

Warnings: pretty much nothing, just kissing and a ton of fluff

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Quite some time had passed since that fateful day that Jimmy had saved Scott from the corruption. Jimmy still didn’t quite agree that his kiss was what had saved Scott in the end, he was sure Scott had something to do with it too- safe to say this was a common debate between the two. Debating was something that had not changed between them in the slightest. They still bickered, but it was lighthearted, more affectionate now. Their arguments, if they could even be called that, were filled with laughter that glittered like gold and grins that shimmered like bronze.

The defensive strategies that the new and improved House Blossom Alliance came up with helped a great deal- not that they really ended up needing it anyhow. Fwhip and Sausage kept to themselves most times these days. Both of them seemingly felt guilty about what had happened, even if they made no moves to try and repair the bond that had been broken. That stung more than some of the former Wither Rose Alliance members cared to admit. Pearl and Gem both wanted to see the best in Fwhip and Sausage, but even if either of them came crawling back for forgiveness, neither one was sure they would give it to them. And Scott wasn’t sure how he could handle even seeing one of them again.

Then there was the matter of the corruption. The containment box Gem had made seemed to be working enough, but every now and again one of them would spot a strange red plant growing from the ground, and would have to uproot it and add it to the box. Luckily nothing seemed to be spreading too far yet, and there was no sign of the “he” that the red Scott spoke of. Shelby seemed constantly on edge, and Jimmy caught Scott staring up at the statue of Aeor and asking for answers on more than one occasion. But Jimmy was confident that the containment would work, and since they beat it once, they could beat it again!

But it was silly to worry about those things, not on a momentous day like this. Jimmy adjusted the pale green bow-tie for about the millionth time, and fidgeted with the suit jacket, unused to the blinding white color of it. He wasn’t wearing his cod head- and he didn’t have a cod mask either- but the bronze scale-like pattern dotted here and there on the white suit was enough for Jimmy. Besides, for once, he wanted his head to be entirely visible today. However, upon Lizzie’s insistence, he did don a bronze-colored crown inlaid with emeralds.

“You ready?” Lizzie asked softly, holding out her arm to Jimmy. She had traded her dress with its blues of the Ocean Empire for one with the greens of the Cod Empire. Jimmy swallowed nervously and nodded with a smile, not trusting his voice to break. He took Lizzie’s arm, and the two of them walked out of the hallway and down the aisle of the new ceremony room of Katherine’s castle. Joel waited for them at the front, while all of Jimmy’s friends- Pixl, Katherine, Shelby, Pearl, and Gem- were sitting in the pews on either side of the aisle. Once they made it to the front of the ceremony room, Lizzie squeezed Jimmy’s arm encouragingly before taking her seat in the audience. Joel gave Jimmy a supportive smile, before the music began and both of them looked to the entrance of the ceremony room. Everyone rose from their seats- and in came Scott.

He was breathtaking. The dress he wore had white lace detailing, while the skirt itself was satin and had a layer of tulle over it, with more lace detailing at the hem. It was sleeveless, and must have been backless to make room for his wings. Gold jewelry adorned him, including the crown on his head, and in his hands he held a bouquet of blue orchids picked from Jimmy’s empire. Jimmy felt himself getting a bit misty-eyed, and couldn’t keep the adoring smile off of his face as Scott made his way down the aisle, finally coming to a stop to stand across from Jimmy. The bouquet was handed off to Joel, who set it down on the table behind him, but Jimmy was too busy gazing up at Scott, hardly able to believe that this day was happening.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Jimmy, the Codfather and ruler of the Cod Empire, and Scott, the winged elf ruler of Rivendell. Their love is one that was won through adversity, and may they always have each other through whatever trials they may have to face,” Joel said, then turned to retrieve the pillow that held the two rings on it from the table. Jimmy took one of the rings, the one that was gold with a sliver of bronze through it, and reached out for Scott’s hand.

“With this ring, I declare my love for you. No matter what you say I did to save you, I still believe that you are one of the strongest people I know. You are as imposing as the mountains you rule in, yet your smile is like morning sunlight and your laughter is glittering gold. My love for you is as steady and sure as the ground beneath me, and as strong as the ocean's currents. I could stumble, or get swept away- but I know you'll be there to save me, as you say I have saved you," Jimmy said, gazing at Scott as he slipped the ring onto his finger. Scott's eyes were glassy as he tried not to cry, smiling that sunshine smile that never failed to make Jimmy’s heart soar. Scott took a deep breath, then took the other ring- this one was bronze with a sliver of gold through it, the inverse of the one Scott now wore.

"In the red dreamscape you saved me from, the corruption made a comment about you and I. It said that you are an Icarus, and that I am your sun. But I think it's the other way around. Sure, you can certainly be an Icarus- ambitious and determined, but you are my sun, Jimmy- warm, radiant, and dazzling. If I am the mountains, then you are the sun that peeks over them. My heart soars for you like I do with my wings, I fly ever closer to catch the beams of light you give off- and I fell. I fell for you- sweet, brave, wonderful you- despite everything. So with this ring, I declare my love to you- my Icarus and my sun," Scott said, taking Jimmy’s hand and slipping the ring on his finger. Jimmy wiped at his eyes with his free hand before taking Scott’s other hand. He looked away from Scott for a brief moment to nod at Joel, before looking back to Scott. Joel turned again, setting down the pillow and trading it for two lengths of ribbon- one gold, and one bronze. An amused sparkle came to Scott’s eyes, and Jimmy gave him a look that said not-now-Scott-not-on-our-wedding-day when Joel began speaking as he looped the fabric around their wrists.

“May the threads of these ribbons never unravel, just as your love will not. May your bond stay strong and true, just as the ribbons that connect you now,” Joel said, removing his hands once he was done. The gold ribbon was looped around Scott’s right wrist, then under their clasped hands to wrap around Jimmy’s right wrist. The bronze ribbon was looped around Jimmy’s left wrist, then over their clasped hands to wrap around Scott’s left wrist.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” Scott murmured, voice low enough that only Jimmy and Joel could hear him. Jimmy let out a soft laugh, and Joel rolled his eyes fondly.

“Scott, do you take Jimmy to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” Joel asked, looking to Scott.

“I do,” Scott said softly, all joking and teasing gone from his expression, leaving only unabashed adoration in its place.

“Jimmy, do you take Scott to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” Joel asked, looking to Jimmy.

“I do,” Jimmy said, unable to keep himself from grinning widely, feeling like he would float to the ceiling if Scott wasn’t keeping him tethered.

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss the groom,” Joel said, nodding to Scott. Jimmy barely got the chance to lean in before Scott tugged him closer by their clasped hands and kissed him softly. Jimmy couldn’t stop smiling into the kiss, and he let out a delighted laugh when they broke apart. Their friends were cheering and clapping, and Joel threw blue and green confetti over them, Jimmy giggling at the way it got caught in Scott’s hair. They slipped their hands out of the ribbons, carefully handing it over to Joel as he handed the blue orchid bouquet back to Scott. The two of them then walked arm-in-arm down the aisle, married.

Jimmy didn’t think he had stopped smiling since the ceremony started. He even kept smiling all throughout Lizzie’s speech full of embarrassing stories about Jimmy at the reception. He definitely smiled when Scott threw the bouquet, and Shelby enthusiastically leapt up and caught it- only to stumble back into Katherine’s arms when she landed. The rest of the night, the two of them kept exchanging sheepish glances and Shelby held the bouquet close to her chest for most of the evening. Jimmy couldn’t even bring himself to be mad that someone else seemed to be finding love at their wedding.

Jimmy’s smile finally settled to something softer as he and Scott shared their first dance as a married couple. He could feel the other’s eyes on them, but that quickly faded to the background as the way Scott held him and gazed down at him captured all of his attention. Jimmy couldn’t stop stealing glances to their matching rings, heart fluttering at the reminder that they were husbands now. If you had told Jimmy at that first House Blossom Alliance meeting that he would end up married to the winged elf that badgered him into picking a fight, he would have never believed you. In fact, if you had told Jimmy anything about what was going to happen to him and Scott, he would have called you crazy. Yet here he was, dancing with someone he once swore he hated, with the man who he had been to hell and back with. And Jimmy wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Taglists below! Ask if you want to be added/removed (I will be keeping the aiahs taglist for any future parts of this universe)!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @logosbottm @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #shubble #katherine elizabeth #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs #flower husbands #seablings #nature wives #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 28 - ao3 -

The answer, it turned out, was paint.

It wasn’t an answer that Lan Qiren would have anticipated in any way, shape, or form. He had been under the impression, as had Lao Nie, that Wen Ruohan had stopped painting long ago. After some teasing by Lao Nie, the man had even off-handedly confirmed it at a private dinner they’d shared at a discussion conference – there had been more than usual planned in this past year, accounting for the fact that all of the Great Sect sect leaders (except Wen Ruohan) were unusually young, and therefore active. And although no one acknowledged it as a reason, everyone knew that it was also meant to help calm the concerns of the smaller sects regarding the chaos in their Great Sect leaders’ personal lives, between Jiang Fengmian losing his servant to his beloved or possibly the other way around, Lao Nie’s extremely bizarre marriage situation, and Lan Qiren stepping up unexpectedly to the position of sect leader on account of his brother’s retreat from the world.

According to Wen Ruohan, it hadn’t been anything in particular that had made him stop painting, only a lack of time and then of interest; there had been a severe crisis some time ago, long before either of them were born, and he had been obligated to devote himself exclusively to those affairs for an extended period of time. When he had finally resurfaced, years later, he had returned and found an old painting sitting there half-finished, and staring at it, realized that he was no longer the same man who had begun it.

He had never painted again.

Lan Qiren was unsure if this was a real story or not – Wen Ruohan, he had learned, seemed to consider the truth about his past to be little more than a gentleman’s agreement between friends – as it seemed to be an especially pointed reminder aimed at Lan Qiren’s situation in particular.

Lao Nie had certainly taken it as such, throwing in his own concerns about Lan Qiren’s work schedule, and when even Cangse Sanren had joined the growing mob of all the rest of his friends, Lan Qiren had finally, if reluctantly, agreed to defer to their concern. He’d finally taken a step back and reorganized his duties as sect leader, standing his ground against the elders and insisting on having more time to devote to his own interests, including those outside of his work as a teacher – music, study, quiet contemplation, even maintaining his training with the sword, despite the fact that he would never match his brother as a sword cultivator.

It had, in fact, made him a better sect leader, less prone to working until he burned out, and he was grateful to his friends for their wisdom and steadfastness in the face of his stubborn grief.

At any rate, though, Wen Ruohan was no longer the painter he had been in his youth, and the hints of burning that marked all such paintings that Lan Qiren had seen suggested that the transition had been an unpleasant one for him. It was a surprise, therefore, to receive, as a gift from the Nightless City, a painting in that immediately recognizable hand which was so freshly made that Lan Qiren imagined he could still smell the grinding ink.

The painting depicted a dragon amidst a misty bamboo forest, its massive coils interwoven throughout the bamboo until it appeared almost part of the earth from which they sprung, or alternatively that speared through from above by a rain of spears; in its claw it held a beauteous dragon pearl, shining bright against the dark haze that surrounded the rest of the painting, and its eyes were fixed upon it as if it had forgotten all else.

The pearl, Lan Qiren presumed, was himself, given Wen Ruohan’s fondness for comparing him to one, which Lan Qiren still did not entirely understand – while he knew it was a sign of Wen Ruohan’s appreciation for him, and an indication that he treasured him, he thought that the particular choice in the type of precious stone was likely to be due to the fact Lan Qiren largely preferred white and grey and silver for his clothing.

(Privately, he had determined that one day, out of sheer spite, he would wear an outfit primarily composed of blue for no other reason than to give the other man a shock; he just hadn’t found a reason yet to justify the expense of having such clothing made when he would only use it the once.)

Similarly, the dragon was the symbol of imperial might, of overweening power and influence and even arrogance; naturally that would be Wen Ruohan himself. But as for the rest of it – the lonely but beautiful bamboo forest, often associated with moral integrity and loyalty, yet juxtaposed in this painting as piercing spears, penetrating the dragon’s hide as if attacking him – the dark mist that seemed to envelop the dragon, held at abeyance only through the light of its pearl –

Lan Qiren did not understand.

There were too many meanings possible, and he did not know how to differentiate between those that were there and those he only wanted to read into it. There was nothing for it, but that he would need to ask the artist himself what was meant.

When, as expected, an invitation came a few days later, requesting that Lan Qiren visit the Nightless City in his capacity as Wen Ruohan’s sworn brother, Lan Qiren accepted.

There were all the necessary pleasantries when he arrived, of course. No longer could he just slip in through the back door, a younger brother come to leech off some resources from an elder; he was the Lan sect leader, and that came with certain obligations even on a casual visit. There were a few formal procedures, and then dinner with Wen Ruohan and his wives, with whom his dynamics had completely reversed – Madame Wen had thawed towards Lan Qiren on account of his new position as sect leader, which guaranteed that he would never be able to move to the Nightless City and thereby obstruct her personal power, while the new concubine, former maid, seemed to think that his involvement in her ascension to the position she now held was a matter of embarrassment, resulting in her wanting to snub him whenever possible.

Wen Ruohan largely ignored their antics, his eyes fixed on Lan Qiren throughout their meal, and afterwards, he had finally dismissed them all and taken Lan Qiren back to the small study he preferred to use for their time together.

“The painting you sent was lovely,” Lan Qiren said, playing a little with the cup of tea that was warm and aromatic in his hands. “You have lost none of your skill.”

“I rebuilt it,” Wen Ruohan corrected, looking amused. “You ought to have seen the first few efforts; I think I wasted enough paper to feed a small family for a year.”

Lan Qiren smiled at the thought. He could scarcely imagine Wen Ruohan struggling the way he described, making an effort and finding his ability wanting; still less could he have once imagined Wen Ruohan having admitted to that fact in front of another.

It was a little like what Lao Nie had said, that between the two of them they were excavating the residual humanity left in Wen Ruohan, slowly and methodically moving aside stone and dirt in order to find the treasures lurking beneath.

“I like it even more, then,” he said, and decided to be a little bit bold. “I like knowing that you thought of me for as long as it took you to make it.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes curved in delight. “You need not be concerned on that score,” he said, his voice still calm and unhurried as always. “You are not so easily expelled from my thoughts, now that you have entered them…ah, little Lan, little Lan, you make me impatient! I had made plans on how to broach the subject with you, and yet now that you are here, I find myself rushing forward, intent to get to the point like some savage Nie.”

A savage Nie of whom he was exceedingly fond, he did not say, and Lan Qiren managed not to roll his eyes at him.

Instead, Lan Qiren put down his cup and folded his hands in his lap. “Don’t hesitate on my behalf,” he said, then added, a little dryly, “I’ve had enough indirect statements to last a lifetime.”

“Welcome to politics,” Wen Ruohan responded, just as dry, but his smile faded and his expression grew more intense; he stood and came closer to Lan Qiren, looking down at him for a long moment before taking a seat beside him. “Qiren, why are you here?”

Lan Qiren blinked, a little confused by the question, but before he could put together an answer, Wen Ruohan continued. “You are sincere and true to yourself; you follow your sect’s rules because you believe in them whole-heartedly and wish to live up to their strictures. Yet do they not say Do not associate with evil?”

“I don’t think you’re evil,” Lan Qiren said. “I think we disagree on what actions constitute evil, on what divides good from evil, and that you are more comfortable walking closely along that line than I. I think that there will be many times in the future where we disagree once again on what is or is not the straight path, and what is the crooked, but – fundamentally, I don’t think you’re evil.”

He considered the question for another moment longer, then added: “And if you were, what is there to do about it? You’re still my sworn brother, bound by oath and blood, and that makes you my responsibility whether I like it or not. Even if you were evil, the only thing that would be left for me to do would be to try my best to lead you out of the dark and back to the light.”

Wen Ruohan was watching him again. His red eyes were narrowed a little, his gaze as intense as it had been when Lan Qiren had been little more than a child, although experience had made it a little less overwhelming.

“You know that I see you as a pearl in the palm of my hand,” Wen Ruohan finally said. His voice was low and intimate, and Lan Qiren shivered to hear it. “A treasure I never expected to find, a gem of such surpassing purity that I fear it will burn me to dare profane it with my touch. Time is eternal; the pearl flows, the jade turns, and yet I remain, walking my crooked path and you your straight broad bridge, shining with righteousness. I see you and yearn for you both day and night, and even in my dreams…”

He reached out and put his hand on Lan Qiren’s. “I would have you be mine, if you would have the same.”

No hollowed-out puppets soon to be discarded here, Lan Qiren thought nonsensically, and swallowed.

“I am yours,” he said carefully, pronouncing each syllable at a time. He had to get this right, he thought, and he would only ever have this one singular chance to do so, or else he’d lose something as bright and shining as the pearl Wen Ruohan was always comparing him to. “I am your sworn brother, as you are mine; I will always be yours.”

“I know,” Wen Ruohan said, and it seemed for once that Lan Qiren had expressed himself clearly rather than muddling it up: he hadn’t misunderstood him into thinking that what Lan Qiren had said was a rejection. “If I were not one of those evil men that your rules warn you against, I would find it in myself to be content with that. But I am, and I am not.”

Lan Qiren wet his lips with his tongue. “You know what I told you,” he reminded him. “About how I – I could compromise myself if I had to, if it made you happy, but I don’t want to have to. That is not who I am, what I am. I don’t want to have to bend and yield. I don’t want to break under the weight of love the way my brother did.”

Wen Ruohan was watching him, patient and waiting.

“I’m not comfortable with that type of intimacy, the type shared between lovers since the start of time,” Lan Qiren finally said. “I don’t want it intrinsically, and I don’t think I want it logically, either. More than that, I don’t think, having never wanted it before and not wanting it now, that I will ever want it. My brother once compared me to a block of ice or a mountain lake frozen over in winter, frigid, and there was something true to what he said. There is no heat that will make me melt as others do…and yet.”

“And yet?”

“And yet you are not the only one who wishes to possess.” He met Wen Ruohan’s eyes. “I, too, would have you be mine.”

His stupid Lan sect heart, burning a hole in his chest; it should have been enough to make him forget his own wishes and be willing to give in, to want to give everything to his beloved no matter the cost to himself, but it wasn’t – he wasn’t. And yet, at the same time, he judged his own affections to be no less than his brother’s for all that they were quieter and less flamboyant, understated rather than loudly proclaimed

Wen Ruohan leaned forward, bringing their faces closer together. “Then why don’t you claim me?”

“Because I cannot offer you what I should,” Lan Qiren said truthfully. “What you would expect –”

“And when,” Wen Ruohan cut him off, “have I ever cared for the expectations set out by the rest of the world? Would I have done half the things I did if I cared for the world’s conventions and determined my aims through their lens?”

Lan Qiren had to admit that he had a point.

“I know what you are,” Wen Ruohan said. “To taint you would be to ruin my own pleasure, to force you would be to deny myself – and I never deny myself. I am greedy, little Lan; I am not content with what the world would have me want, not when I can have what I really want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“Lao Nie told me that he told you about his wife,” Wen Ruohan said. “How he stayed and she went, and they were still happy…I want that, with you.”

Lan Qiren frowned, not understanding.

“I want you,” Wen Ruohan told him, and his long-fingered hand traced over Lan Qiren’s cheekbone. “I want to have you, to own you, to keep you. I want to possess you down to the marrow of your bones; I want every inch of you in every way that I can have you. I want you to be mine – and I don’t need to fuck you to have it.”

Lan Qiren stared at him.

Wen Ruohan smile was like his smirk, triumphant and arrogant, certain of his impending victory. “If I want sex, I have my wives or Lao Nie for that, don’t I? To my wives I have only promised power, which I have given them. As for Lao Nie, I know now that he cannot promise me his heart: he is too facile, too free, too easy with others – he is compelled to share not only his body, which I wouldn’t mind, but also his heart, and I find that I am as unwilling to share in matters of the heart as you are to share your body.”

He shifted closer yet again, until their eyes were level with each other and their breath intermingled in the air between them.

“You will not be like him,” he said, voice dark and certain. “You’re barely willing to divide your attention to things you consider less important than your particular interests. Your heart is your clan’s curse and its treasure, taking you to the heavens and casting you down to the hells – if you give me your heart, full and entire, it will be as if you have removed it from your chest and put it in my hand. No one else will have any part of it, not like this, not in this way. It will only be me.”

“That is true,” Lan Qiren said. “I love no less deeply than my brother. My heart is a placid lake with a surface as clear as glass – you can see everything therein. Within it, there are only my interests, my nephew, my few friends, and you.”

Wen Ruohan’s smile widened.

“What exactly are you thinking?” Lan Qiren asked. His heart was beating in his chest so fast that it hurt. “If you want the assurance, you have it already: I am yours, and you are mine, and it would shatter me to let you go now. Is that what you want?”

“It is.” Wen Ruohan laughed, and it was full of pleasure. “Ah, little Lan! It is, it is.”

“What does it change?” Lan Qiren asked. “How is it different from what we have already?”

“It changes everything,” Wen Ruohan said simply, and Lan Qiren thought about and felt that he was right. “Knowing that you are mine makes it easier to release you into the world, to watch you shine and others see it; let them all look and know that it will never be theirs. All good things in the world are mine, and you are the best among them.”

“Pretty words,” Lan Qiren said, aiming for dry but probably just coming off as short of breath. “I’m a little more interested in the practical.”

“I would have you share my pillow while you are here,” Wen Ruohan said. “I do not need you to share your body with me, but I would have your company as a husband has his wife’s…and there are things that can be done without involving your body, depending on your tolerance.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Wen Ruohan grinned. “As it happens, that’s a matter I’ve given some considerable thought to…”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes, and felt the heat in his ears fade a little; he appreciated the small reprieve from the emotional intensity, the humor breaking the tenseness of the moment.

“You know I find you beautiful,” Wen Ruohan said, and this time his hand came to rest on Lan Qiren’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his lips, and as quickly as that the reprieve was gone. “Perhaps you would permit me to find my own pleasure beside you, gazing upon you, or even invite another to share the bed while you busy yourself with your work – you are never as beautiful as when you are focused, your soul and mind wholly absorbed in your passion for the subject. Perhaps I would invite you to read a spring book for me, spilling out dirty words in that cool tone of yours that you use regardless of the circumstance, so that I might torment myself with hearing you at any time and think of that…I have a thousand and one ideas, little Lan, and I would try them all to see which ones you like and which ones you don’t, to yield to your preference and glory in so yielding.”

None of that sounded like something Lan Qiren would dislike, he thought to himself; it really was only his own personal involvement in the act that he truly objected to. And if Wen Ruohan had Lan Qiren’s heart and Lao Nie’s body, and both their friendship besides, perhaps even he in his ceaseless ambition could find a way to be satisfied with what he had for a time.

“I would like that,” he said honestly.

“Then having gained a cun, I will take a chi,” Wen Ruohan said. “I would like to kiss you.”

Lan Qiren swallowed.

“…all right,” he said. “You may.”

And he did.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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roggenmuhme · 4 years ago

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Hiya! I see that you did some Steven Universe stuff a long time ago (I may have stalked your page...) and I was wondering if I could have some soft yandere headcannons for a gender neutral reader with Pearl (or multiple pearls)? Maybe the reader is someone who’s fairly physically affectionate? I just wanna smooch her ya know

For requests check my pinned post! :)

Don’t worry anon, my page is made for stalking haha :D And I’m so happy to get a SU request, you don’t even know! I did Pearl and Yellow Pearl separately, but if you wanted the poly!pearls format and/or other pearls send me another ask and I’ll work on it (don’t worry about my reqs being closed, I just wanna make sure I didn’t misunderstand you haha)

Yandere!Pearl with a physically affectionate darling

It’s definitely one of the first things that draws her to you. Your easily given affections don’t make it hard for her to get closer to you and she finds herself closer and closer every time you see each other. A hand on her shoulder while you’re laughing, a pat on the back, a heartfelt hug here and there - you treat her with more ease and familiarity than the other crystal gems and she’s perceptive enough to notice. On one hand she wonders why you’d favor her out of all of them, but she enjoys the attention - it’s nice to be special to someone, she knows that too well. She revels in every smile, in every lingering touch, no matter the intention behind it.

She falls quicker for you than she’d like to admit and she’s so, so eager to please and make you happy. Pearl invites you over to Little Homeschool as a help for her lessons, agrees to try out your hobbies or help you in any way she can.

Your favorite healthy snacks? Look, she has prepared them for you already. (It’s no matter, really, and you humans need the nutrition and energy, after all!). You’d love to go to a concert or a function, but you’re too afraid to do it on your own because of stranger danger? She’ll go with you, even if she has to sit on the sidelines, awkwardly watching you. Your excited smiles and hugs are more than enough to make it up to her!

Even though she quickly develops a crush on you, she doesn’t want to accept just how deeply she feels for you. It’s painfully obvious to others except for you and her. She’s getting teased by Amethyst almost daily over how much she spoils you and bends over backwards for you.

But what looks so easy and innocent to any outsider, is quite complicated for her. Crushing on someone and having those feelings returned? It’s been quite a while for her, even when she let loose some time ago… She can’t explain it, but you’re different and she just wants to make you happy. But she isn’t as innocent and stupid as she was before.

You being human doesn’t make it easier for her. She’ll become a bit more clingy, a bit more cheery around you. It’s all a facade, because deep down she grows more worried about you. You’re so kind, so nice, so welcoming and so, so fragile. You should stay with her, where she can watch over your safety, wouldn’t you agree? But she doesn’t want to impose, so she keeps worrying in her head. Expect frequent good morning texts and constant reminders of getting enough sleep and eating healthy. If you let her, she’ll cook for you, smother you in any way imaginable.

You’re just too cute, aren’t you? And so, so precious!

Yandere!Yellow Pearl with a physically affectionate darling

Oh, she hates it at first. Not the attention, of course. She deserves that, after all.But why do you need to touch her so much? Verbal praise is sufficient. Please, stop ruining her outfit with your sticky human fingers!

Once she learns that touch is a way humans express special affections and appreciation, she gets a little less irritated at you always doing… that.

But just because she isn’t the biggest fan of your little antics, don’t think you can just go and treat others the same way. She is special, precious and she should be the only one you see in that way. (It’s the truth, after all.)

She gets jealous easily and doesn’t realize it. At all. You’re talking to someone else, gem or human - it doesn’t matter to her, she’ll intervene and drag you away from them. They’re not worth your time, she can do whatever they’re doing way better. You should also be more careful with how you spend your time - after all, you’re human and you only have so much of it on earth.

She’s one to brag to you. She definitely wants to show you her world - she’s out of her element on earth and have you ever seen Homeworld? She’s trying to impress you with all of her little stories of the past. She was - is, really - very important, don’t you see?

For you, she’ll try to get into human technology. That little ‘smartphone’ you have may not be as efficient and well-made as gem tech, but you love it so much and she loves it that you give her attention even when you’re not together. Expect many pics and selfies from her during the day (and a flood of texts when you can’t answer immediately because you’re preoccupied). That silly snapchat picture you took of you two some time ago? The one with the ridiculous animal ear filter? It’s her screensaver and homescreen now. If you ask her about it, she’ll blush and tell you she just liked the way she looked in it.

It takes her a long time to even recognize the feelings she has for you, but when she does, she falls even harder. You’re her first love and she feels like she never wants to let you go, ever. It’s hard to come to terms with her emotions and she has a lot of work to do in that regard, but that doesn’t stop her from obsessing over you. She tries to become the most important person in your life without damaging her pride - not an easy task, but she can definitely shoo away some of your friends with her snobbish behaviour. Slow progress, but still progress. Over time, she starts to initiate physical contact on her own, but rather subtly. And not only because she likes it - she wants to show others that you belong to her.

They’re just not good enough to be with you.

#steven universe #steven universe x reader #pearl x reader #yellow pearl x reader #yandere pearl #yandere yellow pearl #yandere #headcanons #my writing

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proudfreakmetarusonikku · 3 years ago

Note

The duty of a Pearl is to serve their Diamond.

At least, that's what Tommy was taught anyway.

It had a millennia since he was first given to Green Diamond by Gold Diamond, but he would never forget the moment he laid eyes upon the white-masked ruler. Neon green arms caught the light of the room around them and gave Green a luminescent appearance, despite his body already being made of projected light. The space station almost seemed to freeze in time around the three. If he could, Tommy would have frozen time back then, when things were simpler.

Green had taken him back to his personal ship and given him the traditional title 'Pearl' before leaving to take care of Diamond matters. Despite an ingrained knowledge he should wait for orders, Pearl left the room and wandered the ship, a need to explore and see the world around him overriding his pearl nature. He meandered around, running into a few Rubies and Topazes along the way. Pearl knew that the bright green clothes Gold Diamond had given him let the other gems know his place, but he himself was unsure of his purpose, aside from basic servitude.

Hours passed and Pearlstill only saw a small portion of the ship. He stumbled into a large room with a neon green throne and a projected screen before it. Sitting in the chair was none other than Green Diamond himself. Pearl felt a strange pull towards him, an urge to remain in his presence unlike with the other gems around the ship. He crept up alongside the base of the throne, unnoticed by the powerful gem sitting in it. Green occasionally summoned various Quartzes and Peridots before assigning them duties. These gems occasionally glanced at Pearl with interest, but looked away when they noticed the colors he wore.

Eventually, Green asked one of the staring gems what was so interesting. When she answered with Pearl's presence on the floor next to the throne, Green peered down over the edge of the chair. Pearl waved up from the ground with a smile, a bit embarrassed at being caught but otherwise unperturbed. "Leave us." Green commanded the Aquamarine. The moment the two were alone, Green picked Pearl up by his collar. "I thought I left you in my chambers."

"Well yeah, but it was boring in there. Didn't know Diamonds know shit about interior design." Pearlshot back.

Green was silent for a moment before he released a sharp wheezing noise. Pearl startled, concerned he had actually caused some damage with his words, but realized quickly the high pitched whistling was only Green's laughter. As his laughter petered out, Green set Pearl down on the armrest of his chair, "It's been a while since I've laughed that hard." His smiling mask seemed to shine with an extra light. From that moment on, Pearl was never far from Green's side. He cracked jokes, mocked other gems (including Green sometimes), and handled simple tasks for his Diamond. In return, Green kept Pearl around him at all times. They were together on the ship, at planets when Green checked on his colonies, and even in meetings with the other Diamonds, though he had to hide in Green's pocket. Green picked a name for him: Tommy, and received a name in kind: Dream. All things considered, serving Green Diamond was a pretty good deal.

At least, it was until the revolt on Esempi.

It was just another visit to another one of Green's colonies, almost a century into Tommy's service. They had just touched down and Tommy was riding on Dream's shoulder just like normal when a shrieking whistle pierced through the air. A few of the Rubies in Dream's guard collapsed to the ground and their bodies disappeared, leaving only their gems behind. Tommy shook with the effort of keeping his light form intact, and he could tell even Dream was struggling a bit. They quickly found the source of the shriek and destroyed it, gathering all the gems responsible before Green Diamond for judgement.

"What did you hope to gain from this?" He asked.

"Freedom from your oppression!" Responded a bold Titanite.

"Well you can have it." Dream's mask glinted in the light of the planet's sun. Tommy stared up at his Diamond, confused as he pulled a long strand of neon green light from thin air. Dream flicked his wrist and the string whipped through the forms of every single revolting gem.

All of them, except the Titanite.

The yellow gem managed to dodge the attack in time to see his bretheren fall. His eyes filled with rage as he pulled a bow from the gem in his forehead. He pulled back on the string and aimed for Dream before letting loose a glowing yellow bolt directed at Tommy. The pearl barely had a moment to think before his gem, right in the middle of his chest, was struck. He toppled backwards, falling for the ground before being caught by two Aquamarines. Dream grabbed the Titanite and squeezed him to the point of his body dissipating, and even cracking his gem. Dream called his gems to his ship and took Tommy from the Aquamarines.

In the medical bay, Tommy received treatment for a small fracture in his gem. Easily fixed, but still painful. During the entire process, Dream was strangely distant, watching Tommy with enough neutrality that even he couldn't figure out what the Diamond was thinking. By the time he was completely healed, Dream had reverted back to his initial treatment of his pearl. Tommy trailed after him every day, but no longer did he sit on the Diamond's shoulder, no longer was he given the privilege of joining the Diamond in meetings, no longer did he elicit that wheeze of a laugh from the Diamond that he loved so much.

But a few months later and Dream finally looked at him. He stopped in the middle of a corridor and stared down at the Pearl, "Why won't you leave?!"

"What?" Tommy didn't understand.

"I've been ignoring you for months, why are you still following me?"

The Pearl was quick to respond, "Because I feel like it you prick." Dream had nothing else to say.

The very next day, after finishing a meeting with Gold Diamond and Blue Diamond Dream picked Tommy up for the first time since the incident on Esempi. He carried the Pearl through the halls of the ship without an entourage. They traveled to a large room that reached far above the Diamond's head, a size Tommy had yet to see until this point. Various weapons lined one wall and platforms of various size, height, and constructions littered the room. Next to the door was a panel with colorful buttons and a milky white quartz. Dream set Tommy down on the ground and tilted his head towards the quartz, who quickly saluted and left the room. Dream turned to his Pearl and started to shrink to his eye level.

Tommy was surprised to see the mask shrink along with the Diamond, and was even more surprised when Dream pulled a bright green axe from his gem. "Draw your weapon." He commanded. Tommy raised a hand to his Pearl and pulled, imagining a tool that would serve his Diamond. He felt something brush against his hand and his gem lit up as a red and white axe emerged from his chest. Tommy stared in awe at the weapon for a few moments before Dream's voice broke him out, "Let's start." Green Diamond walked to the panel and pressed a few buttons, producing several training dummies from the floor.

And so Tommy's training began.

The slow, arduous process was brutal. More days than not, Tommy would end up with a damaged form that required a trip into his gem to heal. Every day after Dream had completed a certain number of meetings they would return to the training room and spar, the Diamond teaching the Pearl how to wield his axe and how to avoid attacks from foreign gems. It wasn't all bad, there were moments where Dream would step back and voice his approval whenever Tommy proved especially evasive or aggressive. But every time Tommy received a severe injury requiring an end to the day's session, Dream would stop and stare, his mask hiding whatever thoughts running through his mind.

He was certainly stronger for all the training, Tommy couldn't deny this. Nor would he, his Diamond clearly cared for him, why else would he take the time to make sure Tommy could defend himself. Still, he wasn't permitted to sit on Dream's shoulder, though he was once again brought to meetings with the Diamonds. In public, Dream would act as thought Tommy had been reduced to his assistant, as all other Pearls were. When they were alone, however, be it in the training room or their chambers, or even Dream's command room on occasion, the Diamond would hold the Pearl close to his gem. Sometimes he held Tommy a bit too tight and the smaller gem was reminded that his Diamond could crush him at any moment. The injuries during training eventually grew in frequency and damage. Until it finally came to a head at the end of one session.

Dream always took care to avoid Tommy's gem, just as Tommy avoided Dream's. But this time, when Tommy ducked he wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the bit of the Diamond's axe. The sharp blade cut straight to the heart of Tommy's Pearl, destroying his light form and knocking the gem across the room. Green Diamond dropped his weapon and ran to it, holding the smooth stone in his shaking hands. That was how his attendants found him, begging Tommy to come back out, telling the gem it was only a small nick and that he would be fine. The Aquamarine guided Dream, refusing to release the damaged Pearl, to the medical bay where they placed the gem on a soft pillow. The Moonstone inside looked over the damaged Pearl and shook her head apologetically.

Every day after that, Dream would go to the medical bay before and after his duties and spend time talking to the gem. Sometimes he would mention events of the day, sometimes he would scream at the gem for being so soft, but most often he would beg Tommy to come back. Green Diamond went to The Reef and ordered the attendants to fix his Pearl but to no avail. The gem was cut to the core, leaving him nothing more than a decoration. They offered replacement Pearls, but Green Diamond refused them all, only wanting the return of his Tommy.

Green Diamond ordered his Peridots, Agates, and Sapphires to research gem reconstruction and spent the majority of his time assisting them. Gold, Blue, and Red Diamond all worried for him, offering time away and various projects and more gems to distract him from the loss of his Pearl, though he took none of them. A year passed, and Green Diamond began carrying his Pearl in a locket worn around his neck at all times.

Then he received a message: his team had found a solution.

Green Diamond left the meeting of the Diamonds in an instant, heading for the research compound where his Peridots, Agates, and Sapphires had worked tirelessly. He opened his locket and carefully laid the damaged gem on the operating table, watching his researchers for any hint of failure. The gems poured fluids and powders and shone lights on the Pearl, eventually filling the crevice with a neon green streak the color of Green's own gem. The gems explained that the Pearl would need time to readjust and reform, but the procedure had been successful.

So Dream waited. He waited days, weeks, and then a month passed by. Time felt slow, as though it were a sludging mud instead of a clean stream. But the waiting paid off the moment Tommy reformed around his gem. He was different, with a white streak in his normally golden hair, and his blue eyes had cracks of neon green through them, but he was alive. Dream shrunk down and embraced his Pearl, unwilling to risk crushing him in his hands as he had imagined so many times a year ago. Tommy did not embrace him back, however. His eyes darted around the room and his form shook endlessly. Dream didn't care though, he had his Pearl back.

And he wouldn't lose him again.

-Butterfly Anon Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

It has been a hot minute since I've written this much, hooo boyyyy. Ah, Primeboys my beloved, how you inspire me. This turned out to be less of a drabble and more of a full on story, my goodness. I've got a few ideas where to take the story from here, but I figured this was as good a place to end it as any.

Cast in case you didn't figure it out:

Green Diamond: Dream, Gold Diamond: Foolish, Pearl: Tommy, Titanite: Wilbur, Blue Diamond: Skeppy, Red Diamond: Badboyhalo

THIS IS SO GOOD

#Dream smp

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writeblrfantasy · 3 years ago

Text

pax said he liked my clothing descriptions and i haven't been able stop thinking about that so i put together this compilation!! from acogs, brenin, oots, a short from gkbk i'm working on, and the farlingverse. i hope you love all of these because i'm super proud of all of them <3<3

taglists and ts under the cut

Katya is dressed in a brilliant red velvet gown whose floor length skirt trails behind her. Gold is embroidered onto the hem of the skirt and the bodice, supported by a thin red strap that curves around her neck. Her orange hair covers her shoulders in loose curls, two parts on either side pulled back from her face and secured with a ribbon on her head like always. She wears no jewelry on her pale, freckled skin, and the neckline of the gown teases her breasts.

In a few minutes, one huge golden ring will sit on her right middle finger. Nikolai pictures it now.

Beautiful and mighty, she’s sitting on the old throne of the temple, from when this was the palace and Aspiania was the capital. The fingers of her left hand curl over the white armrests, and she leans her head back onto the red cushion there. Green eyes dulled behind the wire frames of her spectacles have the power to freeze an empire, a whole world.

Nikolai is more interested in the drawn golden sword in her right hand.

Esme is wearing custom made robes in a beautiful mix of red, dark blue, and purple, with a sash and hems of shimmering gold. Embroidery of the sun and moon decorate patches in tiny patterns, stars covering every inch of them.

In traditional Tan style, they wrap around his shoulders and tie at his waist with the knot in the back, the sleeves loose and flared out at the wrists. They go down to his feet, covered in polished black boots. His black hair is sparkled with gold dust, but it’s forever too long and strands fall into his eyes.

He grins when he sees Laurent across the temple for the first time, dopey eyed, as Laurent’s soul evaporates from his body. It’s a remarkable testament to his self-restraint that he doesn’t cross the temple in three strides and tackle Esme to the ground.

Feryn looks truly like an angel, or a god, or grace incarnate. No veil covers her head, but her white hair hangs loose round her face. Cygnus was expecting curls, or a braid with flowers, or an updo with a diamond circlet wrapping her hair. But the reality is plain. And it’s beautiful.

She’s wearing cosmetics, he’s sure, but he can’t see them well. Her brown eyes just look a little brighter than normal, her lashes a little longer, her cheeks a little fuller. She smiles at him with warm eyes and pink lips.

Her gown is something he’s been looking forward to seeing and endlessly imagining ever since she and Lian got engaged. Like her hair, it’s much simpler than expected. The fabric is shiny like satin, the straps thin and the bodice plain like the gown Evan wore to her bridal shower.

Unlike Evan’s, the neckline dips, and the skirt of Feryn’s dress is slim. Feryn must be wearing shoes with tall heels, because Cygnus knows she isn’t naturally this tall. Or perhaps it’s just her posture, the straight back, the easy, content way she holds herself.

Feryn, who asked Cygnus to trust her when he asked what he would be wearing at the play, dresses him in bright red silk robes with drapes over the shoulders that blow out behind him. She says she had them made especially for tonight. Cygnus is rendered speechless, reminded of the luxury he lives as king. Feryn seems only pleased.

The shoulders and collar are decorated in sapphires and embroidered in gold. The robes don’t allow trousers to show that much, so he wears plain black. Feryn chooses polished black shoes with gold trim, and a red and gold clip for his hair.

When he looks in the mirror, he thinks he’s dressed for the most pristine play in the whole country, not Cherie’s little central company.

“Valerie—” Ruby begins, words dying in her throat as Cygnus holds up a hand. A rich sapphire ring adorns on his hand, and that’s not the only finery he’s wearing. His silk jacket of dark green is bejeweled with glittering gems and delicate piping. His boots are shinier than she’s ever seen them, and with his purple cloak and combed hair, he’s obviously going to meet someone important.

Like every other lady in the castle, Ruby allows Feryn to force her into nice clothes. She refuses the robes Feryn brought out, heavy red velvet, and chooses instead black breeches, a fine shirt, and an ornate jacket. The jacket is dull green, trimmed in gold and fastened with gleaming buttons. Ruby pulls on a new pair of black boots and actually gives some thought to her hair, after a moment permitting Feryn to braid it down her back. It’s all tedious to her, but she’ll endure it to keep poor Cygnus company.

“Come in,” came Alea’s voice at my first knock. I opened the door, watching Moureen muttering and fussing over Alea’s dress. The mix of sea greens and blues complimented her beautiful hair, some curls braided into a crown around her head, the rest lying around her shoulders. I couldn’t hold back a grin.

“What?” she asked.

“You look beautiful. I have something for you,” I said, bringing forth the box from behind my back and thrusting it into her hands. I motioned for her to open it.

“Oh, Bren, you didn’t have to—” She opened it, her mouth falling open. “Oh, my—” Alea turned and set the box down, picking up the jade and sapphire teardrop earrings that I’d bought her in the shop. It must’ve been the gods’ will for the dress and earrings to match perfectly, making her green eyes stand out. She looked every bit the duchess, every bit a queen.

Alea was in a stunning gold ballgown that glittered and shone when she moved. The skirt was embellished with pearls and diamonds, dripping and glittering. Her hair was up, a white flower hairpin keeping it out of her eyes. She smiled, and her green eyes looked even more beautiful than ever. I told her so. She laughed like she didn’t believe me.

More footsteps came to the door. I glanced up at Moureen, who was coming in with my freshly shined shoes. Thales hovered in the doorway in front of Lakus. I looked him over, taking in his bright blue jacket, adorned with gold trim and beading. The finished jacket looked much better now than it had during yesterday’s boring afternoon in the store. I found myself catching my breath.

He gave me a small smile. “You look good. The green, uh, looks good.”

I did something with my hands. “Thanks, I guess.” My jacket was well done. Light green and silver, pearl buttons and dark stitching. I chose the silver just to get on Lakus’s nerves, since I knew Danda couldn’t care less about whether people wore gold or not.

Lakus, by contrast, had bright, gaudy orange on. There was so much gold on him I could feel the money, and I grimaced, looking away from him after a glance.

Cerrick doesn’t recognize anyone else in the purples, reds, yellows, but he sees his man in the center of the pack in bright blue and green armor, cloak fluttering out behind him. his horse is gray, mottled with black spots, shorter than the rest. His sword is gleaming in his right hand, black gloves clutching the hilt like one born to it. His braid sticks out of his polished blue helmet, shining in the sun. Cerrick doesn’t care if Olin laughs at him for his reaction, he still curses softly under his breath.

Njord is beautiful.

The knights run a few casual circles around the stadium, waving to the crowd. Cerrick watches the crowd hand their knight of choice bracelets, charms, wreaths with fresh flowers braided into them.

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring @sleepy-night-child @florraisons @faithfire @croctears @inkovert @kait-writes

fv taglist (lmk to be added/removed): @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @magic-is-something-we-create @47crayons @idk-bout-tonight

oots taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest

general taglist: @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @wickerring @directionoftime @47crayons @familiarvillain

gkbk taglist: (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @idk-bout-tonight @ren-c-leyn @crystallized-ink @hysteriwah @denkis-boyfriend @ashen-crest @aconfusedomni @myhusbandsasemni @oshaaru @metanoiamorii @47crayons

#writing #writeblr #wips #my wip #fantasy #fantasy writeblr #fiction #original fiction #lila's wips: fv #lila's wips: oots #lila's wips: acogs #lila's wips: gkbk #wip: brenin #bean's excerpts #lila's excerpts

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mimik-u · 4 years ago

Text

Gloves, Ch. 1

Summary: There's a reason that Yellow Diamond doesn't take off her gloves.

A/N: The other day, as a part of my 100-word drabble word series for SU, I fulfilled this prompt, which required me to question what might be beneath Yellow Diamond's gloves. The headcanon I came up with intrigued me, and inspiration to write a seven pt. fic was thus born. Between school and other creative projects, I'm not entirely sure that this one will get updated regularly, but I do have a fairly firm outline in mind, so I hope the wait between chapters won't be too long! Enjoy!

AO3 Link

“Blue?”

“... yes, Pink?”

Though the other Diamond barely looks up from her screen, Pink Diamond can tell that she’s listening from the way that her long chin slightly inclines in her direction.

Good.

Because she has an important question to ask.

Attention is hard won from the likes of Blue and Yellow Diamond, so even half-victories are still victories that have to be capitalized upon with immediacy. Pink lightly hops upwards from her own throne to the arm of Blue’s, floating downwards into an expectant sitting position, happily ignoring the fact that her elder flicks away her screen with a sigh that filters visibly through her nostrils. If Blue was really annoyed, then she’d just have her Pearl usher her to her chambers... but tellingly, the imperial command never quite comes.

Pink takes courage from this implicit sign and forges ahead in a rush of breathless words.

“Why does Yellow wear her gloves all the time?”

It’s an observation that has increasingly captured her attention as the years have marched on with seemingly zero deviation in pattern.

Yellow Diamond never removes her gloves.

Pink wears gloves, too, but they’re nothing like Yellow’s—so stiff and armor-like, as inflexible as their wearer. Plus, she pulls hers off from time to time so she can feel flowers on her fingertips… their soft, delicate petals... those spiny, fragile leaves. Yellow, in stark contrast, never goes anywhere without hers—even when she joins the Diamonds in the pool on extraction cycles, even when she retires to her chambers at the end of a long day. Exceptionless in most things, so intransigent and firm, it’s no great surprise that the elder Diamond adheres to her own chosen mold, but still…

Even Blue Diamond lowers her hooded veil.

Even White Diamond occasionally unpins her cape.

Blue frowns thoughtfully, subtle lines striking themselves beneath her eyes as she peers downwards at Pink. There’s a look of calculation in her gaze, a sense of measurement, as though she’s already weighing how much she can get away with not saying.

“Have you ever asked Yellow about them directly?”

Pink briefly considers lying, but then thinks better of it. While she might get away with an occasional white lie to Yellow, Blue and White are far more discerning in their judgment—White especially.

(Sometimes, she swears that the matriarch can read her mind.)

“... not really,” she bites her lip. “I just assumed it would be rude to ask a Gem about her appearance modifiers...”

“And so you settled upon asking another Gem about someone else’s appearance modifiers,” Blue observes, a certain wryness in the slight tilt of her lips.

“Something like that,” Pink confirms, not entirely abashed. “I just figured that you would know, and that would save me the trouble from having to pester Yellow about them.”

But Blue’s expression recoils to its former solemnity again as she immediately shakes her head, her hair shifting heavily with the movement.”

“Yes... please do not do that, Pink... not unless she brings it up... Yellow—“

But now it’s Blue’s turn to be hesitant; she doesn’t blush, not in the way that Pink blushes—so furiously, all of her emotions scribbled across her face—but her cheeks aren’t as coolly colored as before, taking on a tinge less like her hair and more like the facets of her gem.

“Yellow what?” Pink asks insistently, pressing her momentary advantage. As subtly as she can, she leans forward a little bit on her blue perch, like an organic avian preparing for flight. “Please, pretty please tell me, Blue. I won’t tell Yellow that you told.”

(Probably.)

(Likely.)

(It’s a tossup of probability, really.)

“You’re being facetious, Pink,” Blue admonishes quietly, glancing away. “This is a serious matter that deserves the utmost respect.”

And though Blue is almost always serious, Pink instinctively intuits that Blue has rarely been more serious than in this conversation, which had begun so innocently, with errant curiosity. When she faces Pink again, her expression has returned to its usual placid coolness, but her fingers are interlocked in her lap, woven into a rigid temple that bespeaks far more about her feelings on the situation than the studious coldness of her eyes.

Pink cowers beneath the weight of this silent gesture, leaning backwards on her makeshift seat.

“Sorry, Blue,” she mumbles shamefacedly and hopes that the apology is sufficient. She doesn’t want to go to her chambers for the rest of the cycle. It’s so rare that Blue allows her to accompany her for the day.

Thankfully, though, the other Diamond seems to accept her contrition as sincere, nodding slowly, the ice melting from her eyes in degrees.

Pink can’t help but wonder at these microscopic exchanges, so subtle but undoubtedly there—who knew that gloves could wring such excess of emotion in the nigh emotionless Blue Diamond?

“Yes, well,” she says, each word doled out carefully, with all the air of internal constraint, “I can give you the basics... but as for the rest, you’ll have to wait until Yellow is ready to tell you—if and when that ever is. She doesn’t like to dwell upon the matter... even with me... perhaps even especially with me...”

Blue trails off, an aching concern seemingly troubling her brow. Pink think she’s know why. Of the four Diamonds, Blue and Yellow emerged from the same supernova some hundreds of thousand years ago, sharing atoms and stardust and precious intimacy in a way that has always made Pink feel a little lonely. They’re bound to each other by far more than simple affinity, tangled, intertwined, and enmeshed.

Naturally, any breach between them doesn’t settle right in Blue Diamond’s gem.

Pink forces herself to be patient, to allow the other Diamond to find her words again.

“But that is no matter,” she finally says—rather unconvincingly. “I know enough… I know how it began.”

“And how is that exactly?”

Blue’s arctic gaze settles upon the younger Diamond again, and there’s sadness in her eyes, ancient and unfathomable depth.

It strikes her suddenly, with all the force of blow, how much older than Pink that she is.

That they all are.

White and Yellow and Blue and all the very stars which surround Homeworld in their bright and intangible embrace.

“It begins as we Diamonds all do,” Blue whispers, reaching upwards to glance her fingers across her gem. “As entities with nearly infinite power, inexplicably constrained within the boundaries and volatilities of our emotions…”

Pink’s immediate confusion must show in her face because the other Diamond immediately clarifies, frowning softly.

“Which is to say, think about your own powers, Pink—how, at the height of your emotions, they can inadvertently manifest in strange ways…”

“Like, a few cycles ago”—Pink can’t help but smile—“when I accidentally made those pebbles come to life.”

She’d cried on a few decorative rocks—upset that she couldn’t accompany Yellow to her Jungle Moon colony—and within mere seconds, they were animated with life, growing arms and legs and expressive faces, clumsily moving around on her vanity, knocking things over.

Now, they live in her chambers, parroting the words she says.

“Yes, precisely,” Blue nods approvingly, in that way she only does when Pink manages to get something right. “The general theory—according to White—is that when we Diamonds feel any strong degree of emotion, we generate those emotions into tangible consequences, whether we intend to or otherwise…”

Pink tilts her head curiously. It’s hard to imagine any of her three elders showing a “strong degree of emotion.” In their own ways, each of them—White, Yellow, and Blue—are so meticulous in their chosen facades, bearing their regality on their faces with a modicum of control that they often scold their most junior Diamond for lacking.

But Blue is perceptive in this front, too, her frown slowly shifting into the slightest, most incremental of smiles.

“Constraining yourself, learning to manage your emotions, will come with time and age,” she promises gently. “But it is essential that you learn this lesson sooner rather than later because, well, there are some consequences of our feelings that we can rationally accept, and others…”

“Not so much?” Pink guesses astutely, beginning to have a burgeoning idea of what this entire story must be about.

“Aye,” Blue Diamond affirms with a measured nod of her head. “Aye… Yellow Diamond’s powers are electric, you know. When we were younger Diamonds… when we didn’t have all that much possession over ourselves and our emotions and everything in-between … she couldn’t touch anything without hurting it.”

The finality of the statement bruises the entirety of the throne room with its magnitude. Pink stares upwards at the other Diamond with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“What?”

“You must understand, Pink,” Blue returns emphatically, her voice strained beneath its own quiet urgency. “Yellow then was very much like she is now—stoic, temperamental, quick to action and reaction—but all of these qualities were amplified by her youth and relative impulsivity—and so she was nigh constantly creating her own energy. It pooled in her fingertips. It sparked in her eyes. It electrified her entire body. When she was frustrated, she could barely touch a screen without short-circuiting it. When she was furious, she could destabilize an entire court of innocent gems. Even when she was happy, joyous after conquest or battle or victory… she couldn’t even touch—“

But Blue Diamond stops short, her breath hitching.

It only takes her seconds to recover, to regain at least the semblance of composure across the smooth facets of her face, but Pink isn’t entirely naïve.

She knows that the completion to that self-interrupted sentence must have been me.

“After one especially harrowing incident,” Blue continues, closing her eyes against what appears to be a painful memory, “she tasked a group of Bismuths to forge special gloves for her that would insulate her powers more efficiently. The gloves helped. Absolutely. She could lean her hand against a pillar and not char it to dust… and since then, of course, she has become more… practiced in tempering her emotions, so much so that I have a sneaking suspicion that the gloves are less functional than they are habitual… but still, she wears them…”

Blue doesn’t say anymore, but the implicit completion to her speech needs no articulation to be known.

And she’ll continue to wear them.

Forever.

For time immemorial.

Pink Diamond scarcely knows what to say, how to process this terrible truth, how to feel.

Silence presses upon the cavernous throne room like the weight of a palm sinking downwards and downwards still, and she can’t help but stare downwards at her own gloved hands, wondering if they, too, have the capacity for engendering such violence.

She hopes not.

Stars, how she prays.

“What was the turning point?” She dares to ask when the quietude gets to be too much, the invisible hand too oppressive.

And yet, her own voice is quiet.

Solemn.

Terribly afraid and equally curious.

The oxymoron twists the gem in her stomach. She half-wants to know and half-dreads the answer.

Thankfully, though—(disappointingly?)—Blue Diamond shakes her head firmly, her brow lowered sternly over her eyes.

“That is not my story to tell.”

#bellow diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #pink diamond #s: steven universe #mimiku #hisoisoaihdfhidhfiofhsio #do i have time to be writing a seven pt. fic #no #am i doing it anyway #yeah #gloves

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shyrose57 · 3 years ago

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Ooo, yes! I love the idea of the server as a living thing with its own intelligence that's learning as it goes. Like, at first it mostly focused the corruption on Grian since he worked with it most, then shifted it to Tubbo when he tried to get rid of it. Now, it's keeping it more spread out from the start, working more subtly. Will definitely be tougher to root it all out in the end.

Man, just imagine being Ranboo in that situation. Your friends are missing, again, as are the only people who might know more about why and how. And when you're at your wit's end, grasping at straws, you happen to go through a portal, and it feels like you blink and then you're somewhere else. And you've finally found your friends, but they don't know you, and they don't know each other. They only know the rules of this game that'll get them all killed. So you team up with some near-strangers because at least they're in the same boat as you. Also, you now have even more mysterious ancestry than you did before and a bucket of new instincts to grapple with! Stressful day, to be sure.

Man, that is delightfully angsty to think about. Ren and Doc hop through the End portal together and only Doc comes out. Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo drop through the Boatem Hole and just don't respawn. Joel vanishes on a quick trip to the Nether, as does Lizzie when she goes to investigate, and it's only Gem and Pearl's update from Hermitcraft that convinces them it wasn't Xornoth's doing.

Ranboo and Lizzie are the Fae Royalty combo we didn't know we needed! Fun bit of irony, the Ocean Queen and the enderman ending up together in the shadows, but they're definitely the better for it. With all the other fae running around the server now, it's good to have a court backing you, even if it's only a court of 2 or 3. Lizzie, Ranboo, and Ren do sound like a genuinely delightful trio. Very strategic and clever, actually.

Tubbo would be awesome in Magic Mountain, aw man. You thought it was hard to keep the enchanting table away from Scar before? Now he can roll up with a deal and a speech while Tubbo makes off through the backdoor before you even realize you've been stolen from. Especially if he's underestimated early on, as a yellow life, he can probably convince a couple people to part with some souls. Not to mention the incredible combination of a red life base, a very corrupted yellow, and Mr. 7-Lives sitting up on a mountain together. No way that can end badly! Especially if Tubbo does have a little secret alliance with Grian.

If Tommy's with the Southlands as well, maybe Eret can go with Cleo, then! To keep the DSMPers more spread out, that leaves her with Cleo or BEST, though Cleo and Eret does sound like a super interesting combo. Maybe they ran into each other really early on, before Cleo and BigB made their alliance? The rest of this paragraph is a spoiler for Cleo's session 4: maybe after BigB killed her, when she leaves the Fairy Fort, she goes back to Eret instead of to Pearl and Scott? Or if she does turn die to Joel's trap, Eret brings her back up to yellow and they team up from there! Between Eret's diplomacy and Cleo's intimidation, I feel like they'd be quite a strong duo.

For Tommy, I kind of want to give him the same wolf/dog thing Ren's got going on? It seems to fit his vibe. Or maybe some kind of harpy or griffon, to give him wings but with a fantastic element. I think Martyn's got some kind of mature spirit thing from Yogscast, and Tango and Impulse both lean a bit demony. So maybe one of those could fit Puffy, though I'm a little behind on her content.

Oh, Lizzie's boogey session could be so jarring to the newcomers. I wonder if she'd tell Ranboo, at least; she didn't tell her allies. A shock to Pearl either way, so I imagine all the newcomers had a lot to talk about once she was cured. If nothing else, insight into the boogey curse.

Four for Ranboo, six for Tommy sounds good! And Tubbo's got his two because corruption. Depending on how often Eret and Puffy get targeted, and how willing they are to trade lives, maybe 3-4 for them? Puffy could do on 3, I think, as a pretty strong PvPer.

In 3rd Life, they were it's end. And in Last Life, they'll be it's enforcers.

Ranboo and the rest of the Newbies are just going through it. He was just getting the grasp on this whole Enderwalk thing, and now, he doesn't even know if he's an Endermen at all anymore, because this server has spared no one of it's changes. Sure, it's really cool to be able to touch water without protection now, and there's a lot of other neat things-but there's just as many downsides. Lying actually stings now, and he has to watch his every word, and the almost-apathy he feels towards the people he knows less is...concerning, to say the least.

Oh, that second one?? God, that'd be absolutely terrifying. Vanishing through portals is one thing, but just not seemingly respawning at all? I love it.

These three are some of the most regal, polite people you've ever met at first glance, but the moment you look away, they're all dorks. Regardless of that though, they can be a very dangerous trio. Ren's loyalty is all but unmatched, and the fae are not known for taking lightly to slights-even if they only really just became fae. Combined with all of their skills(Ranboo's mining, Lizzie's trickery, ect), they're a powerful force.

Yes! A red-life wizard at the bottom, and two demons dwelling near the top. Tubbo lives in between the two, in the center of the mountain-the heart, if you will. He keeps friendly and 'trusting' of Joel even after he goes red, and keeps an eye on Scar as well, making use of their shared species as a bonding point(not that Scar really trust him either, but eh. He expected no less from him). Tubbo has an in with the reds even before Grian becomes one.

Eret with Cleo and BigB in the Castle alliance, fantastic! Do we let Cleo stay red, and add her to the powderkeg that is Magical Mountain and the Reds? Or do we let Eret save her and see a amazing team up between those two, and a little scene where they give her a life, or meet her from her respawn at BigB's hands and gain a stronger bond with her? Choices, choices, it's so hard to choose.

Wolf Tommy or Griffin Tommy? Both would be fiercely protective of their group, and look very awesome so who's to say. Wolf Tommy could also have a possible connection with Ren though, which could lead to a connection between him and the Fairy Alliance later on, so that would be interesting. As a Griffin-I'm not too sure. Griffins guard treasure, so maybe something with that, tying him to something?

Demon Puffy, or nature spirit Puffy, hm. Nature spirit could have an interesting tie with the fae, again, and other's like her. But demon Puffy would be really cool too. Either way, she gets to go feral-as a treat. We're just gonna let her loose on anyone who decides to mess with her group.

It absolutely would. I feel like she wouldn't, but maybe Ranboo just kind of has this...feeling...that something's off. Just little things. She tells him to stay in the fort, and there's something about the way she does, the way she leaves, swift and sharp, that makes him uncertain. But the only prior experience he's had with the Bogeyman so far was indirect, so he doesn't realize what it means until Pearl's death message fills the chat, and Lizzie comes back covered in blood.

Three for Puffy then, and. Hm. For Eret, four would mean they have a life to spare, but three would mean they kind of don't, and still are offering one up to Cleo, so I don't know!

#Your Eyes Are Flashing All Again AU #dream smp x last life smp au #dream smp x last life smp #tubbo #ranboo #ldshadowlady #captain puffy #eret #tommyinnit

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Won’t Say I’m In Love

A commission for Anonymous with a trans dude and Loba!

Summary: In which reader is Loba's sugar baby/friend with benefit who she loves to shower gifts upon. When reader starts expressing interest and complimenting her, realizing she gets flustered when the attention is turned to her, it makes courting her and making it. Obvious they'd like more a little more difficult. Nothing that can't be solved with a little bump n grind, right?...Right?

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog :D

Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Loba Andrade/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Loba is a trans woman and her bits are referred to as cock/dick, Reader is a trans man with top surgery and no bottom surgery and parts are referred to as cock/dick/hole, reader is penetrated, sugar mommy relationship BUT WITHOUT THE MOMMY INVOLVED, FWB to romance, talk of transitioning and the stuff that comes with it, Loba nuts in ya, aaaand fluff!

Words: 5.1k

_______________

Loba, to you, was everything.

Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch. But in times like this, you can’t imagine her out of your life. Not when her smile is etched into your memory, dimples on her cheeks and pearly whites reminding you of a wolf’s. Or how her eyes narrow dangerously when you tease her, a smile playing on her lips as she coos to you to hand over the last treat in the kitchen before you run squealing after you shove it in your mouth. Loba, hot on your heels.

Life with her came natural after being in each other’s good graces for so long.

Well.

If you called ‘fuck buddies where she buys you things all the time’ good graces. A certified sugar mama.

~Rest under the cut~

Your meeting had been a business strict one at first. She was the girl people went to when things were stolen from them or they had specific desires. In your case, a precious family heirloom had been stolen from you by Hammond. That family member that had been working on cracking a code to work into their system had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you with a precious family ring that you cherished. Yet, somehow, it had gone missing, the only lead being of a ripped jacket by the window with an H symbol on it.

Loba was a person you’d heard of who could get anything from anyone, and when you’d found her, given her all the details and your own sob story. She’d hummed, drawing her manicured fingers across your cheeks and cooed about how pretty a gem you were yourself. When your cheeks had flared red, she’d smirked, patted your cheek and told you that it would be done within the week. Since she was going that way anyway.

When you’d received an anonymous text fit with a wolf emoji, you’d hurried quickly over to the underground area where she’d resided. The neon red lights had looked beautiful on her, made her look dangerous in the alleyway where she’d sat upon a box as if it were a throne. You thanked her a million times over, offering money, even some other jewelry that you’d been given that you had no need for. Yet you knew it was expensive.

Loba had refused, and instead had risen from her spot where she’d been sitting. Circling you like you were prey and making a mention about how she knew you were struggling to keep your apartment going, how it would be dangerous for you to go back. Not knowing how or why she brought it up, at first you bristled, holding the ring close to your chest in fear she would take it.

But, instead, she offers you her gloved hand, a smile on her face and a tilt to her head. “As I told you when you had arrived, you are a beautiful gem yourself. I could take care of you. Would you like to be the new addition to my collection?”

At first, you’d been flustered, a little shocked, and suspicious. But now? Now it all made sense.

Loba loved to shower you in gifts and compliments. She’d always called you the prized jewel of her collection. A collection that you’d seen and wandered through numerous times by now. Of golds, silvers, diamonds, arts, priceless artifacts, all the riches in the world for the woman who had everything. And she had almost everything. Including a found family.

With Loba, you, and Jaime? You were your own family. The trio out in the world with a home base and all the riches you could have ever wanted- thanks to Loba, that is. Not that it was hard for her, one of the best thieves in the world. Her jump bracelet made that much so easy. And she always loved to gift you things from her finding that she thought you would look pretty in.

Whatever you wanted.

The first time she’d offered you something, a beautiful pearl choker, you’d kind of laughed with a flushed face. No one had ever gifted you jewelry before, let alone been delighted TO give you it. But when you reached for it, she teased you, holding it just out of reach and said she’d like to put it on you. Resulting with her manicured fingers lightly brushing your skin as she stood in front of you, hitching it behind your neck with ease and gently curling a finger underneath the front.

She’d tugged you closer that day as your face burned, head tipped up to look at her. Loba had already been tall, but when she wore heels it was even worse with you. Yet, she’d grinned, tilted her head, eyes flickering down to your lips and murmured, “Do I get a little gift in return?” With such softness, eyes twinkling with mischief.

It wasn’t as if you two hadn’t been playing essentially gay chicken this entire time. You were obviously sexually into her, as she was to you. So, with your lips quivering, you’d nodded, murmuring back, “Anything you want.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart.” She’d cooed before pressing the softest kiss upon your lips and leaving you wanting more as she pulled back and gently patted your cheek.

And you were left to watch her saunter off, eyes falling to her ass without thinking about it and your fingers touching your lips where you felt the slickness of her gloss lingering.

From there, the teasing escalated. Until your relationship developed more into a ‘friends with benefits’ situation or even a ‘sugar mommy’ situation. Sans the calling her mommy part, wasn’t really your thing. She gave you gifts, showered you in them really, and in return you two had some killer sex. You figured it was a win all around for you.

When you got pretty things to adorn your body with, and you got to hold onto a headboard with your head thrown back as her mouth made quick work of you. Where was the loss in that scenario? Well, maybe the lipstick stains on your inner thighs or...or...

Or maybe you knew exactly what it was. Because after time went on, your sexual feelings finally revealed themselves to actually be disguised romantic feelings. Cracking open like pouring light whenever she walked into the room and you had to push them down and swallow your pride.

That’s where your loss was.

It had started pretty small a few months ago. You just started to notice different ways Loba dressed, or how she had her hair some days. Some days her makeup would change and you would compliment it genuinely, only to have her black lipstick covered lips playfully smirk your way and offer for you to try it out personally.

Hey, you weren’t complaining about walking around with a kiss print on your neck or cheek.

But you were mentally complaining about how fast your heart had beat at such a simple action. How you’d touched your cheek when she wasn’t looking and smiled to yourself like you were some sort of schoolboy incapable of reeling in your crush.

You mentally groaned to yourself. You were NOT about to ruin anything for her.

Loba, you thought, deserved love and happiness. You contemplated that maybe...just maybe you could be the one to give that to her. But, you knew her, you knew her very well for that matter. If affection was genuine, she’d become flustered and nervous and try to find a way to turn it sexual or into a flirt. She could flirt her way through anything, but if you so much as tucked her hair behind her ear and told her she looked pretty that day, she’d almost choke and try to turn the situation back.

You tried to give back what she gave you, trying to adore her, only to have her try and hide her flustered appearance by trying to flirt you up. Or slamming you against a wall and cooing about how you were pushing her buttons.

She was good at hiding her emotions in a way you wouldn’t expect her to. Instead of shying off or shutting down, Loba had learned to laugh her way out of situations and compliment you. Pinching your cheek and calling you sweet. The love- the romance she’d been deprived of didn’t go unknown to you. She didn’t trust easily, and she was happy with you and Jaime being her family.

At least, that’s as far as you knew.

What you didn’t know is that her feelings matched your own. That every extra glance you stole her way, she noticed and tried not to think anything of. But sometimes, sometimes when she was fucking you, she imagined you holding on tight to her and murmuring sweet nothings. Or instead of coming to her room for a ‘nightly visit’, that you’d spend the night and let her hold you quietly in her arms and wake up to see you just the same.

Mutual feelings that neither of you knew the other had.

Eventually you figured you needed to own up to it. And that’s what you were trying to plan right now. It’s with a breath that you come to the decision that maybe you could...show her instead.

Yeah, yeah that sounded better.

So, when Loba comes home tonight, smiling brightly as she swings a beautiful diamond necklace around a finger and announcing to you and Jaime, “Mama’s home, boys! Did you miss me?” With fondness in her voice and her eyes flicking over you to hint that she had a gift for you- that is when you decide now is a good time to strike.

After dinner is had and Loba has put her necklace in a beautiful glass case to admire it, you come towards her little den area. It was a big, rounded room, wall to wall full of her jewels and findings. Ranging from pearl necklaces to priceless artifacts. Beautiful art pieces were hung on the walls all around it with lights to ensure that the jewels down below would glitter and gleam in any lighting. You rest yourself on the doorway as you watch her, admiring her from afar as she looks to the sparkling necklace with glee in her eyes.

“Ah, so beautiful. Don’t you think?” Loba sighs at her necklace, before her eyes flick up to you in the doorway. Her eyes sparkle with that same look from earlier, mischief dancing in them as she saunters up to you slowly. As if a predator with its prey. You’d lie if you said your heart didn’t skip three beats.

“Yeah, I think you are, actually.” You coyly respond, going so far as to flutter your lashes as she rests an arm beside your head. Her grin is amused, rolling her eyes and using her free hand to gently grab your chin, tilting your head this way and that. Always inspecting you.

Her prized possession.

“Ha-ha, very cute. How many times have you tried that one, love?” She teases, tapping her manicured nail on your cheek twice. You smile fondly at the nickname, pretending it didn’t make you near about squirm out of your spot. But your heart lurches in your chest when she speaks much softer, tracing along your jawline with her fingertips. “I have a gift for you.”

“I was going to tell you the same thing.”

That piques Loba’s interest, her mischievous look pausing for surprise to overtake her features. Her glossy lips part in surprise, her eyes moving from the stare on your lips to flick up to your eyes as her brows furrow briefly.

She looked adorable.

Fuck.

“A gift? For me? Isn’t that my job?” Loba laughs a bit, taking a step back and cocking her head, her long braids following. She looked just like a puppy. You swallow down your racing heartbeat as you try to figure out how to bring it up.

“Later- in the bedroom.” You promise. A familiar phrase that makes her pupils widen, a smirk falling to her face instead, a bit more confidence to her purr as she affectionately pinches your cheek.

“I eagerly await your acquaintance tonight, then. But, for now, let me show you the ring I found you, darling!”

You’re going to die.

The ring she’d found you had been gorgeous- she'd yet to gift you a ring yet. Loba once had said that seemed a little too intimate of a gift. You never asked why, but now that you’ve been gifted one, looking at the gold band with a beautiful simple style with three gems in each twirl of its vine-like look.

Well, you can’t help but think either she’s gotten used to you or maybe...maybe it had a purpose.

Either way, it helps you feel more confident about what you’re going to try tonight. Walking with a bit more confidence as you head to her bedroom. You hardly have the time to knock before she’s opening the door, yanking you inside, and pushing you against the door to kiss you.

Loba is stripped down for the night. Her twin braids traded to let her curly hair down, the ombre look towards the tips of her bright red hair reaching about mid-back and splaying around her beautifully. Her outfit has been swapped to something a bit more practical of a black lacy bralette and stretchy short shorts, revealing her long legs and the beautiful vine-like tattoos with flowers curling on her outer thighs, edging up her hips to her waist.

Your hands come up, but are immediately caught by her. Her fingers lace in yours, pulling your hands to rest beside your head against the door as you moan into her mouth. Your reward is a soft laugh, her teeth nipping your bottom lip before trailing her glossy, full lips over your chin, down your jawline to your neck.

“Wait, wait-” You manage to breathe out when her lips press to the length of your neck. Immediately Loba pauses, releasing your hands and backing up. Concern and confusion in her eyes, but you quickly let out a laugh, “No, no, I mean- I want to try something different tonight...if that’s okay?”

“What like- bondage?”

You about choke, head thunking back against the door as feeling your cheeks warm as you try to think of how to word it. It’s kinda of hard when she’s now idly kissing at your neck, lips parting to suckle on a sensitive spot of yours that makes your hips jerk. But you manage to breathe it out, “I want to take care of you tonight.”

Then it’s Loba’s turn to choke. Pulling back away from her spot to give you a curious look, if flustered. Her own face is red, looking apprehensive about the idea, but you quickly add in. “If you don’t like it, truly don’t like it, we’ll stop immediately, okay? I promise.”

And then you have her. Just with that extra security.

“You better make it worth my while.” She huffs almost in an embarrassed tone. But her voice is playful, despite the way you notice how she swallows and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. And you know it isn’t the fact she doesn’t want it, it’s because she’s used to being in control. And not that you don’t like her taking control of you but...

Sometimes you just wanted to treat her right. Show her how much she meant to you.

You suppose sex was better than trying to sit her down for a conversation and talk about your feelings with eye contact involved and your running mouth.

You start gentle with her, leading her to the bed and guiding her to lie down. You start with something simple as a makeout session. Straddling her hips so she can feel the heat of your body through your sweatpants and t-shirt. You lean into her, cupping her cheek and pushing her hair from her face as you kiss her so gently, stroking your thumb over her cheekbone. You make sure not to let her guide the kiss, but let her grab your hips, feeling her fingers slide under the waistband to touch your skin.

When you lick into Loba’s mouth, her breath hitches, her hips coming up to press against you and you follow the motion by pressing down to give her some pressure. Your own breath is shaky when her hands slide down to your ass under your pants, tugging you gently to get you to grind.

Control- normally you’d follow like the good boy she’d claimed you to be but...

You immediately part from the kiss, delighting quietly in how she whines. However, delighting even more when her eyes shoot open and she whines louder when you take her hands and pull them above her head. You interlock your fingers, hovering your lips just out of reach when she tries to lean up and get at you again, but realizing quickly that she can’t. Loba groans.

It’s quiet submission when her head rests back on the pillow, a shaky breath leaving her lips as her eyes fall to your mouth. She pouts her prettiest when you give her a look, huffing under you and rolling her eyes. “What? Do you want me to say ‘please’?”

“It’s a start to getting what you want, Ms. Andrade, don’t you think?” You tease in a mocking tone, causing her eyes to narrow up at you. There’s another huff from her, her fingers flexing in a nervous way in your grip. You wait patiently above her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Pl-...” Loba pauses, swallowing before shakily exhaling through her nose. Her eyes flicker to the side as if flustered, rolling upwards as if trying to will herself to speak. You try to ignore the way you feel her cock jerk under your ass, but you can’t ignore the pride you feel knowing she liked this.

“Please, please do something more. Please don’t tease me? Aren’t I good to you, baby?” She begs her prettiest, ending it with a shaky noise, her cheeks flushed red and her lips pulling into a pretty pout that you can’t help but kiss to soothe away her embarrassment.

You murmur sweet nothings against her mouth that you hope she doesn’t catch as you kiss your way down her neck. You only need to scoot down her body a little, moving to fit between her legs rather than straddle her.

You let her hands go, watching with delight as they stay right where you put them as your own pull up her bralette to reveal her chest. She’s got nice breasts, rounded and about a C cup. You know from her talking about it that she’d gotten them filled in the past, all decorated with pretty silver barbells through each nipple and her underbreast tattoo curling between her chest.

You press your mouth at the freckles dotting the upper edges of her breasts, nosing your way down the path of her flesh until you can gingerly cup her breast. You relish the way her breath hitches in anticipation when you mouth at her nipple, pressing soft, fluttering, wet kisses until she whines softly under her breath.

She really can’t blame you for drawing it out, right? For adoring every inch of her? You’d never been able to seen her like this before, how she squirms, trying to be good underneath you and not take over. It’s the best you could have asked of her. To try.

You smile against her skin before you take her nipple into your mouth and begin suckling. Letting your tongue flick back and forth over it to feel the shape of her barbell idly. Loba’s sounds are soft, gentle little sighs as her hips gently press up against you to get some pressure. You hum against her in reply when her hand rests in your hair, gently stroking and pressing to encourage you to touch her more.

A moan escapes her lips when you let your teeth gingerly scrape across the sensitive flesh, coming off of her with a wet pop. You nuzzle between her chest with a soft sigh of, “You’re so beautiful.” Your tone dripping with honesty as you kiss down her ribcage, towards her abdomen.

Normally she’s talkative during sessions like this, liking to pull your hair and show you who’s in charge. But now when you look up, all you can see is her head turned to the side, her cheeks red and her lips parted to shallowly breathe. You’ve never felt prouder of yourself.

When you reach the waistband of her short, you peer up at her under your lashes, gently tugging at the band. “Can I take these off?”

“Please.” She replies, completely unprompted with a shaky breath following and her eyes peering open to look down at you. Her gaze makes you feel hot, your chest bursting with adoration that you can only hope your eyes mimic.

You gently pull them off and toss them to the side. You move to sit up on your knees, gently rubbing at her thighs as your eyes flicker to her cock. She was about six inches long and uncut with foreskin only reaching just under the head. She’d shared with you that she was thankful that the future medical technology allowed her to decide the option on being able to get hard and remain fertile. Just as you’d shared you were thankful that getting top surgery had become less dangerous over so many years in the making.

Small things to share with her in those quiet moments you two could relate to each other.

Now, you run a hand along her inner thigh, sliding over her shaved mound as you quietly ask, “What are your feelings on penetrating me today?” To let her know in turn you wanted that. Of course, if she didn’t, you’d happily find your favorite cock and strap it in.

“Please,” She says again, practically music to your ears by now. “I want to be inside you- let me touch you, little pup, please? I’ll be on my best behavior.” Loba’s voice is near desperate as she looks down at you. Sitting up on her elbows to see you better. Your face flushes at the nickname, almost tempted to scold her for it, but the way she looks at you...

Her eyes are full of something you’ve seen before. Never taking the time to see. Adoration. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips parted and her eyes roaming across your frame before coming back to your eyes. Her brows furrow briefly, this desperate look crossing her face as she tries again, “Let me see your cock, baby, let me taste you?”

It’s filth. Yet she sounds so fucking soft when she says it that you can’t help but swallow down a whine.

In a matter of moments, you’re stripping from your clothing. Your sweatpants get tossed with your shirt, but before you can get to your underwear Loba is already helping you out of it. Her fingers eagerly grab your hips, but she learns quickly because she doesn’t pull you. Letting you move your own body until your thighs can frame her face.

You reach down to pull on your mound, exposing your cock to her. You’re hard already, your hole drooling with slick from the excitement from seeing her so open earlier. Loba knows how you like it, hooking her arms around your thighs to hold you as her eyes go half lidded to watch your face. You swallow thickly, biting your bottom lip as her tongue runs from your hole, up to the underside of your dick in a fluid swipe.

Kitten licks like that repeat a few times, being mindful of how sensitive your engorged cock could be right off the bat. You shakily exhale through your nose when her lips part, letting the piercing on her tongue rest on the underside of your clit and her breath fanning across you hotly.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, you let out a moan and use your free hand to rest in her hair. The smile you feel against your wet flesh should make you flustered, but not as much as when she looks up at you under her lashes with such adoration. She lets you take the reins, gently humping against her mouth and taking things at your pace. It’s the most control you’ve had in a while, but your mouth starts working before you can even think, “Fuck- you’re so beautiful, babe.”

The blush that reddens her cheeks fuels both her own motions and your mouth as you moan low in your throat just to hear her moan low back at you in turn as she licks up your cock. “Good- good that feels s...so good-” You don’t expect her to react so well to your voice, let alone praise. But you feel her nails dig into your thighs, able to see the way she parts her lips, glossy now from your slick and seeing it stick to her tongue-

It’s too much.

There’s almost a rush as you squirm out of her grasp to move down to her lap to straddle her again. You’d tell her to finger you, but one look at her nails proves why that’s a hassle. Thankfully when you sink your own fingers into yourself, you find your walls are wet and pliant. But for good measure you still ask her for the lube to prep her own cock. Stroking her cock whilst you rest on her thighs, able to watch her eyes flutter and how her fingers twist into the pillow she’s got her head on.

“Ready?” You ask, pulling yourself closer so you can slide your cock against hers, sandwiching it between your sex to grind back and forth against her. Loba quickly nods, her hands moving to grab your hips and squeezing eagerly, but you hum again. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby- yes, I want it, I want you, please!” Loba all but whines, her look frantic again as she gently pulls you. You follow the motion, lining her up before sliding down onto her with a gasp.

Loba’s reaction is immediate, always so sensitive when you envelop her. She’s got her nails pressing into your hips, her face contorted and her head tossed to the side with pure pleasure written across her features. It makes you feel proud that you could just do that with your body, that you’re the one making her look like that.

Your emotions are swelling up in your chest.

You push them down for the sake of resting your hands on top of hers on your body. Squeezing them and feeling your heart race when she maneuvers so her fingers can intertwine with yours. Your breath hitches, but that can easily be passed off for your hips grinding on their own, grinding your fat cock against her mound and feeling the way she shifts in you.

Her soft moan and the way her fingers squeeze yours make you dizzy.

Don’t think about it, you remind yourself.

Your breath quickens as you lean forward and begin riding her. Only pulling yourself up an inch or two and sliding yourself back down onto her cock. Your toes curl, squeezing her hands a bit tighter and about whining when she starts to pull her hands back. But you figure out why when she holds them up at about her waist level, lacing your fingers with hers to give you more leverage to fuck yourself onto her.

Don’t think about it, you again think to yourself, your brain clouded with lust and adoration.

“You’re so handsome,” Loba mumbles out, and when you finally urge yourself to flutter open your eyes, she’s looking at you. She’s panting softly, brows furrowed in a look of pleasure. You swallow the whimper in your throat so you can instead move yourself to almost lie on top of her. Letting her hands go to rest your arms on either side of her head and bringing her into a kiss.

Her hands slide over your body then, sliding down your sides to your hips, to your ass to graciously grab as you fuck yourself onto her. You moan into her mouth, feeling her follow the motion with her own soft noise in her throat.

Don’t think about it, you try so desperately to tell yourself as the knot forms in your stomach.

You have to break the kiss, tucking yourself into her neck. Loba is holding onto you now, her hands resting flat on your back and dragging her nails down your skin. You whine into her ear as your inner walls clench, your cock humping against her shaved mound and keeping your body extremely interested. It comes tumbling out before you can think of it, “Fuck- fuck, fuck, shit- Loba, Loba-”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it-

“I love you-” Loba whines in your ear, causing your heart to near about beat out of your chest thinking you’d imagined it. But you feel her lips move against your neck next time, “I love you. Let me- ah- let me cum inside you, baby, please, please, please-”

It’s all a blur. The way your chest pounds and how hard you cum. You can hear her cumming not soon after you, her nails sinking into your back and her teeth sinking into your shoulder to quiet down her beautiful moans. You think you’re dehydrated, your brain must have lost oxygen at some point- but you felt it. You heard it.

As you two are coming down, you urge yourself to sit up in her lap. Watching as her hand slides through her hair to push the strands from her face, how her chest rises and falls with her breaths, trying to make it out in your head as you open and close your mouth like a fish.

“What?” She laughs, reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “You weren’t going to say it, I figured--”

“You knew?!” You cry out, flustered and feeling your own face heat up in embarrassment- yet relief floods your chest.

“I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?!” You cry out again, this time more distraught. But it quickly dies down when her thumb brushes along your cheek bone, urging you to lean into her touch and settle down. Though you see the look in her eyes of almost uncertainty- worry perhaps.

With a shaky breath, you turn and kiss her palm. “I...I love you as well, ya know?”

“I know, baby.”

“Don’t be so smug about it!”

Her melodic laugh is quickly smothered by the pillow you throw in her face, only for you to nearly get knocked off her lap when she takes it and throws it right back at you with a victorious cry.

Fuck you love her.

#Loba #Loba Andrade #Loba x Reader #Apex legends #apex lemons #trans male reader #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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intoxicatingimmediacy · 3 years ago

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How Tracee Ellis Ross and Daveed Diggs Bonded as Members of “the Curly-Hair Family”

Daveed Diggs was certain the Emmys had already happened—so certain, in fact, that he and his partner had booked a vacation for the day of the ceremony in September...

Vanity Fair: Can you guys tell me about when you first met? Was it on the set of Black-ish or before that?

Tracee Ellis Ross: Did we meet backstage at Hamilton?

Daveed Diggs: We must have, but I don’t remember most of that stuff. If I’m being honest, it was such a crazy time. So yeah, I’m sure we did then.

Ross: But I feel like we just did the obligatory—I was like, “thank you for being brilliant.” And you were like, “thank you for coming.”

Diggs: I’m sure I told you I was a huge fan of yours, because that’s true. I must have babbled something to you about The Lyricist Lounge. I don’t know if that was then or on the Black-ish set, but I’ve been a fan of yours for a very long time. And so I remember at some point feeling the need to just be like, just so you know, I know that you got bars, I watched you rap with Mos Def when he was up on a ledge and shit. Like I remember all that.

Ross: No, we actually had this conversation on Black-ish because I then told you the backstory on that, and the fact that it was so intense getting me to do those very, very limited amount of bars. And what Daveed does, he makes it look easy, but it is not. What these rappers and these lyricists and these artists do is not something that came naturally to my rhythmic talent. Yeah. So I remember, and by the way, I did not know who you were before going to the Broadway play, before going to see you on stage, but you are so dynamic, combined with the fact that we share the curly-hair family.

Diggs: Well, it’s funny when Kenya [Barris] was like, “so I have this idea. I’ve been thinking about you as Bow’s brother.” And I was just like, “look, you can stop right there. Yes, I want to do that.” I’ve been Team Rainbow on this show for so long. I feel like she’s always getting, people don’t really understand her like I understand her. But look, let me tell you what it’s like being a mixed kid from the Bay.

Ross: Yeah. It was such a natural fit. And then they made it so much better with the way they wrote you. Johan is special.

Diggs: He’s special. He’s very special. And it fit like a glove. Very little acting happening for me.

I wanted to ask about Johan, because he blows in from France, basically, which knowing that this was filming in the fall of 2016 or summer 2016 feels very Thomas Jefferson coming down the staircase. Was that how that character got that way?

Diggs: I would imagine. I don’t know. Nobody ever told me. I very much remember my first table read there and I was all nervous. There were so many people there, this is a trip for a table read. Many years later he told me, that was because you were there. That many people didn’t usually come. But everyone was so obsessed with Hamilton, that they just wanted to see you. And he was like, I got nervous because I actually had no reason to assume that you could do this. I had just seen you in a musical and then put you in my TV show.

Ross: Oh, my God. Kenya is such a monster for saying that to you. That’s not true, because that’s not what he told me. He was convinced, I remember when he called me after he saw it and he was like, I have the best idea. And again, I’m telling you, when I saw you on stage—throughout my life, every once in a while you see people and you’re like, yeah, same tribe. You know what I mean? And usually the hair is the entrance into the indication. I’m like, we’re going to have definitely some things in common. And I want to know what product he uses, you know what I mean? But our table reads, which we have completely lost in this pandemic, were these very special, extraordinary things. Yes, there were more people there for you, but you got to feel the chemistry of all of us. And so, yeah, I do remember that day though, because that was really serious.

Daveed’s run on it came in this crazy period of work post-Hamilton, and also during the 2016 election. What do you remember from all of that?

Ross: Whiplash. Devastation. A lot of fear. So funny, we were on the precipice of so much more. I don’t know, there was a lot of wake up happening. It’s an interesting time to be on a show like Black-ish where we’re so topical and we dive in on that stuff. It made me appreciate the ability to use a platform to keep bringing light into the world, and joy, and also still talking about things and unpacking them without having to decide somebody is wrong or right. But just being able to explore them in joyful environments.

Diggs: Yeah. That show is so great at that. And it’s funny, professionally for me at that time, I was doing a bunch of things and learning so much, it almost feels separate from my emotional, personal, political journey. I was just on airplanes and in places—

Ross: You were moving a lot.

Diggs: Right? Because I was also doing Kimmy Schmidt and I was just all over the place. And so all of that was going on and then also the world was falling apart, but it was nice to work. For me, work was a good distraction from that, I guess. The times when I was on Black-ish were like, oh, we get to be in the world and also still be working and having fun, because the show was so good at that. Whereas a lot of other things that I was working on were just jobs separate from the world.

Ross: Yeah, you were moving at that point. I remember that time period, but it was a treat not only to have Daveed onset, but also for my character to have an identification with something beyond Dre’s family. Because in the Black-ish world, Bow’s point of view is an outlier point of view. And so as Daveed said, right at the beginning, when we first came on, to have somebody that actually knows that experience, not just because it’s written, but lives it in a different way. It was a really nice experience, for me, and I think for my character, if I can speak for the both of us.

What’s the contrast between going from something like Hamilton to a TV show?

Diggs: I mean, for me it was just all about learning. I didn’t know anything really. I left Hamilton and the next weekend was shooting Wonder, and then I went from there to L.A. and shot Tour De Pharmacy. And literally, I shot that for three days, and the fourth day I was on Black-ish. Broadway or doing plays, it’s repetition. It’s the art of, the goal is to make it feel new every time, right? That’s the trick. Doing TV, it’s definitely brand new every time. You don’t have to work for that. You get that part for free. The trick is playing the whole history of your relationships with all of these people as if they actually happened. But one of the great joys about being on Black-ish is just sitting around talking to everybody, soaking up game from Tracee or Anthony when he wasn’t talking shit about me, and Laurence—talking to Fish is my favorite stuff. I would just wait to find him sitting in a corner and just try to get him started.

Ross: Once you do though, you get some gems and pearls out of that man.

You guys have both moved on into more work creating and producing shows yourselves. Why is that the way forward for both of you?

Diggs: For me, it’s a continuation. I was always doing that, because no one wanted to make anything with me in it. And so we had to make it ourselves. But also, certain stories come your way that are, if you don’t tell them nobody’s going to. That’s actually the great part I’m finding about producing. It’s just that I get to help things exist because I want to watch them. I’m pretty self serving in a lot of ways.

Ross: I think I’ve always been producing. I think that I’ve always been that kind of actor. I always think of the whole thing. This is the beauty of what all of these different streaming platforms have offered, is that there is a democracy around, and a desire to keep filling our space with stories that represent the world we live in. And some of us, like Daveed and myself and Anthony, there are specific stories that we’re interested in telling. And you realize there’s a specific point of view that I want to share that is a gap in the world.

Does it feel like the industry is still moving in the right direction in terms of who gets to tell stories, like we are still opening up doors the way that we need to be?

Ross: I think for me, the biggest realization as I expand where my hands are in my career is the recognition that all aspects of this industry need fuller representation, all aspects. And that the pipeline is a little bit broken in terms of the standard that’s used to hire people in the executive positions, all these different places, that there needs to be real attention put there because without the conscious attention, it is not going to change. And that shift in equity around the table really needs absolute work. And so that’s also one of the beauties of being in this position is that I’m now in a space where I am behind the scenes, and I can say, I’m sorry, how much is she getting paid? And how much is he getting paid? And what’s the difference? Well, that’s just the way it’s been. Huh? I think that changes the dynamics, not only of the storytelling, but you look at the difference in the gaze that we’re looking through, through a camera lens, even changes how something looks and when you’re telling a story.

Diggs: That is so real, Tracee.

Ross: So real.

Diggs: And the thing about the Hollywood machine is it’s a big, slow moving machine and your intentions actually don’t matter very much. It was so interesting working with people who have the best intentions in the world and you still look around and most of your crew is white and you’re like, how did this happen? Because that’s where the machine knows how to look. It’s work. It’s actual work.

Ross: It’s actual work. And people, particularly in Hollywood, it’s a big well-oiled machine that’s been working in a certain way. So everybody figures it works. And there’s a lot of spaces in the machine that no one’s opened that door in a really long time, and you’re like, okay, so we need to go downstairs and open that door guys. There’s a weird part of the machine that’s just spilling out the same thing, and we need to go look in that room.

So these Emmys must be the last awards Hamilton can be eligible for, and Black-ish is filming its final season. How do you guys feel saying goodbye to these characters you’ve been living with or associated with for so long?

Diggs: I mean, I haven’t been living with Jefferson and Lafayette, I left them onstage. But other people have lived with them for quite a while, so it’s a bit of a different experience.

Ross: And will continue to, that’s so interesting. I imagine usually when you do a play, not everybody knows you as that.

Diggs: Almost nobody knows you as that, when you do a play. That’s kind of why you do plays.

Ross: Hamilton transcended that little scenario.

Diggs: It did a thing, and a great, wonderful thing that I’m incredibly proud to be a part of. But it is wild to keep revisiting those parts, I feel weird talking about it because I didn’t watch it yesterday and I don’t think about it ever until somebody brings it up. Like I was saying the other day, it’s like you had a kid that grew up or something and now I’m very proud of that kid, like, oh, that’s really cool that they’re off winning awards.

Hamilton would be in first grade by now.

Diggs: It’s won the spelling bee and citizenship award and all that stuff. Very proud of that kid.

Ross: I do have to say though, Daveed, that Hamilton transcended something, but also your portrayal and what you did on stage. There was a reverberation and something that you did with that role, and with that character, that I do think changed the way we see a black actor on stage, in a different way. I think the platform of Hamilton, specifically the role, and then what you did with it, the way you breathe life into it and gave it something, it’s understandable that it is continuing to live on. As an actor, it’s a funny thing, but from the outside looking in and somebody who saw you on stage and saw the TV, you know what I mean? So I do understand the ongoing relationship with that role and what you did with it.

Diggs: That’s the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me, and I think that’s what I mean about feeling proud of the thing. Because my only experience with it these days is as a fan of it. It’s just a weird thing as an actor, like you said, but I imagine it must be a much different kind of goodbye to Rainbow. I mean, you’ve lived with her for—

Ross: Eight years, almost nine years when we finish. What’s interesting is, this is my second time letting go of a long-time character. Letting go of Joan [her character on Girlfriends] was really challenging. I was so new to all of it that it just, it honestly felt a little scary, I just didn’t know how to navigate. It felt to me like what I imagined a basketball player retiring, or leaving the team they were on for a long time, because the pace that you keep for a 23 episode series is intense. You are in the water for more time out of the year than you’re out of the water. But the beauty of this is I get to walk into this final season, knowing it’s the final season. And the truth is for eight years, I have been challenged, intrigued, tickled, and annoyed by this woman that I’m playing. All of the above. And for me it just gets deeper and better every year. I get safer every year and I get to experience a new aspect of my skill, my talent, my thing, the thing I do. On Black-ish, 24 episodes a season, it’s like, how can I really allow this woman to be as full, as free, and as herself as she can be. And that is really fun to use my body and my being as that vehicle, it’s really fun. Particularly working with Anthony, the two of us, the way we fly together, it’s magical. It really is. Even if I don’t talk to him, like I’ve never been to his house, we don’t know each other that way. But what we know in our work relationship is magic.

Diggs: As an observer and a very close up observer too, it is really magic. And I say this about you all the time, too, the way that you fight for Bow is so inspirational. Getting to watch it, it taught me so much.

Ross: Yeah, you got to see some of that for real.

Diggs: Yeah. Watch you on set, really championing for your character, for her integrity, and her humanity, and for her fullness being like, this is a real person, don’t underserve her. I’ve taken that with me to all of my other jobs. I really learned it from you.

Is there anything else you guys want to say to each other?

Ross: I miss you.

Diggs: I miss you too.

#daveed diggs #tracee ellis ross

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