Black And White Pfp Novels & Stories

“I’m just thankful to you.” “Black. I’m Black.” Black sat beside Grey and unbuttoned his shirt. “Done.” Blackarlito Munteriru Fufu C. Quizo—Black—was the middle child and the only son among three siblings. He was a famous model, gifted with looks that could make anyone kneel. His eyes were striking, his nose well-defined, and his smile could make people say yes to whatever he wanted. He was tall, with a perfectly built physique. “My pants. Please, man,” Grey ordered.

I'm not sure I can get close to him even as a friend, because he doesn't seem like someone easy to approach. I checked his I*******m profile, and there wasn't a single photo of a woman there, only photos of himself and some other random pictures, and all of them were black and white. There seemed to be no color in his life and I could see that he hadn't posted a new picture for a long time, his last post was 2 years ago and it was just a picture of two birds in the rain. We followed each other after chatting for quite a while, he turned out to be quite active because he replied to my message quickly, even though the message felt very cold but at least he was willing to respond to me.

We get stopped by almost everyone, them congratulating the both of us. "Man you didn't tell me you were engaged!" A guy, around Leon's age stops the both of us. Leon unwraps his arm from around me and does a little bro hug with the guy. He pulls away and puts his arm back around my waist. "Oh I'm Grayson Black." He isn't a bad looking guy either. His light brown hair is spiked up in the front with gel, a stubble that is similar to Leon's, and baby blue eyes.

That was when I first saw him. A white male, he stood five foot five, weighed about one hundred twenty pounds, and was scrawny. The only word to describe him was black. He dowsed himself with it. Black fingernails, eyelashes, makeup, as Goth as they come. His hair came to a point in the middle of his forehead, stiff with gel. His boots, navy pea coat, high-collared shirt were all black. Yet I'll never forget, as long as I live, that warped smile on his face.

Something worse. He stands roughly two inches taller than me. His black hair is combed back. Slick with gel. His color scheme is black and white. Like a panda. But nothing like said animal. He walks with vigor and a domineering prowess. But what kicks everything into limbo is his face. It sharp. Too sharp. It seems to be made of porcelain. Almost as white as my skin. But something else. Like it's been bleached. Bleached with so many chemicals it has no hope of returning to any healthy color. His eyes are grey. Almost like storm clouds. No. Nothing like storm clouds. I know that color too well. It can only be described in my words as the color of dead elephant skin.

He’s gorgeous. Picking up the phone, I look at his profile again. Kip, aged twenty-eight. Twenty-nine tomorrow, obviously. It’s an unusual name. I forgot to ask him what it was short for. Kristopher, I’m guessing. His profile picture shows him from the chest up, dressed in an All Blacks shirt, looking at the camera and smiling. He has short dark-brown hair with a super sharp fade cut that’s longer on top, a neat beard and mustache, brown eyes, and slightly arched eyebrows that give him a bit of a wicked look.

I couldn't stop it. ME: whatever.. you ain't getting boobs of this clingy person.. Then I went through my gallery.. pictures of her and I pitched and I felt like crying. I was so taken by a kid younger than me. I smiled at a picture that I took while she was eating on the couch before she left. She had on her black and yellow bandana, a black tank top and black shorts. She was facing away so I got half of her face. She looked hot as fuck. I quickly put that picture as my w******p profile picture and then logged out.

“Ferris Black.” That sounds like a really awkward name, but I don’t push further. “Zeke Rossi.” “Everyone knows who you are, you are well known.” He raises an arrogant brow, shoving his hands into his denim jacket pocket before pulling out an old photo, he slides it across to me. I am suspicious of this guy, anyone who possess that tattoo in my sense are really terrible, I possess that tattoo and fuck, I know I am a terrible person , eating with this guy means I am taking a risk.

I just wouldn’t know as everyone is under usernames so what her username is I don’t know. My username is White.Wolf_Knight. Seems quite fitting for me really if you think about it. How protective I get when it comes to my friends, my family, my teammates, and how protective I seem to get when it comes to Savannah. Speaking of Savannah, I seem to become all alpha male when she’s in the picture, it’s like I’m claiming her. But I am willing to jump in and save her at any moment when she needs it. Looking at who is online right now I see a few names that catch my eye. Shocker2U, bubbly_snowflake, MeetMeInBerkeley, fantastic.shoppingaddic, Moonlit.Warrior, Green_Autumn, and Fairytale_Dream.

My eyes were locked on the boy in the corner. He was trembling—proper, bone-deep shaking. He was wearing an oversized gray jumpsuit that hung off his weak body, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle of his mop. He looked up, and the breath left my lungs like I had been cross-checked in the throat. He was haunting. Pale skin, a dusting of light freckles across his nose, and eyes the color of a winter forest—deep, terrified green. His blond hair was messy, clinging to his forehead, and his lips were full and rosy, currently caught between his teeth as he stared at me.