#there's a sketch on the same page where you can see i was trying harder and the loose quick one looks so much better
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You know what I take everything back, I'm having art ideas and I feel capable again
#did some quick sketching on my lunch break and just played with fast and loose lines and it felt so GOOD#there's a sketch on the same page where you can see i was trying harder and the loose quick one looks so much better#more motion more life... anyways i had the best ideas for screenshot redraws#hoatm rants
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Hey bean!!!! I love your art so so much and your comics fill me with joy!! Would you mind sharing what's your process to make them?
Helllooooooo ty!! Of course!! Tbh itâs pretty loosey goosey and procreate isnât the greatest program for comic building, but I manage lol. I usually start with the dialogue (my favorite thing to write!) which may initially be written blearily in bed at 3am in my notes app or directly onto the canvas. I usually build scenes based on the dialogue, which Iâm sure is obvious in hindsight since most of my comics are just long drawn out arguments LOL. From there, I do a very rough sketch/storyboard to get the idea of the page down and how I want the panels to look, expressions, movement, etc. Iâll use a piece from queening the pawn act 2 part 2 as a simple example:
I primarily use the 6b pencil for these two stages. Very rough!! Then I turn the opacity wayyy down and do a cleaner sketch over the top, nailing down more details and expressions. This is also where I will use pose references if needed and warp the lines if I need to make something bigger/smaller (bc I donât have vector layers and they will get blurry once I resize lol). I also usually add the dialogue text at this stage so I can refer to it without having to open up and squint at the barely-there storyboard layer lol. (More under cut, I am not known for my brevity)
Now I can do the lineart (studio pen!) and draw the panel boxes (by hand like a loser using the monoline calligraphy brush). I do the panels after the lineart so I know exactly how to size them for the characters and what I might be cutting off. I do the background lineart after so I donât end up drawing more than I need to outside the boxes.
You can see at this point I decided to change Guillermoâs position in the first panel, having his arms down rather than up and removing his glasses - the angle of his left hand ended up being very finicky and I decided I wanted to see his expression (and not worry about his glasses immediately reappearing in the next panel lol). I can now add the background, which I either erase around the characters or use a masking layer on (if I have room for more layers lol) Then I start coloring, primarily using a very plain no-pressure paint brush (custom, for to save my wrist) for base colors and then build on patterns from there, changing layers as needed. I add my cheek color at 50% multiply, pop on the dialogue bubbles, and thatâs pretty much it!
Very simple shot-reverse-shot scene, but my process is pretty much the same even for more complex stuff like
Iâll play around a lot with effects and background and lighting if I feel like it or if I feel the scene demands it (like the glasses panel - the Tarantino eyes and the glasses flash add to the dra~ma lol), and one thing I know I need to work on is flow! My instinct is often to expect your eyes to go left to right, down, and left to right again, but itâs really pleasing to have something to follow with your eye -like dialogue boxes. In the above you can see how I warped the panels and the angles of Guillermoâs attack to try to make it more exciting to look at and have a smoother flow. Def better than just two rectangular panels on top of each other, but I could have gone way harder on the angle of impact. Always learning and growing!! I just run out of room so often bc I hate using different canvasses for multiple pages, I feel like I lose the flow if I canât see them on top of each other lol.
ANYWAY. Long fucking post. If you want to start drawing comics my advice is to Just Do It. The more you do them, the better youâll get and the more fun youâll have making them!! I never ever thought I would be the kind of person who does longform fan comics (we love you reapersun), but here I am having a blast lmao. Hope this answers your inquiry even a little bit, Iâm afraid I am both long winded and extremely undisciplined!! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
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Looking Glasses Behind the Scenes #1
Here's a look at my process for building a comics page
Let's use Page 55 of Looking Glasses as an example
Roughs
I start with a layout, roughly sketching scenes from my script, trying to puzzle out how they'll fit into panels on the page. I don't usually specify panel layouts in my scripts, I find it kind of hard to picture layouts until they're actually on the page. Here's my initial layout
You can see there are some major differences from the final product. I initially planned for Lancer to get his admissions letter in the background of this page, with no dialog, but I came to realize that it needed more space to breathe. It was harder to tell what was going on here and I wanted Lancer to get a moment with Toriel, so I ended up moving that scene to the previous page and scrapping most of these panels, although I reused some elements that I liked. After a round of revisions I got this:
Sketch Phase
From here I move my sketches around and test out panel borders until I find something I like, roughly place the text, then I refine the weaker sketches. This page went through so many versions that most of the roughs were pretty sketched out already, sometimes my roughs are practically just have stick figures.
I have strict rules about paneling Looking Glasses, which are pretty evident here. The Light world has exclusively gridded panels with gutters. For the dark world, panels aren't allowed to be rectilinear, they have to overlap with each other, and they're always full bleed. The space between the dark and light world literally uses panel borders to transform from one to the other (you can see how the shapes Susie is passing through in the final page are just transformed versions of the panel border)
Inking
Next, I ink over my sketches. Sometimes I have to come back and re-draw something after this stage, but I try to keep from changing my inks after this.
Flatting
Using the Close Area Fill tool in clip studio, I add flat colors to a layer behind my inks. My lineart is aliased, so I could just use a paint bucket, but I work professionally as a flatter, and I prefer the types of flats I get from the Close Area Fill.
I flat my work in three stages. First I do the figures, making sure that I use the same colors for each repeated element, then I duplicate that layer and do any background elements. After this I flat the panel backgrounds separately. This allows me to select the figures or the panels quickly and easily during later steps.
Coloring! (My favorite bit)
I duplicate my flats and merge them, use the paint bucket to drop the correct colors into place, and then do any detail work/painting/effects in a separate group.
Shading
I like to shade over a neutral background, so I add a layer of grey under the lineart. Then I adjust the colors of each scene with a minor tint, to help unify my colors. Toriel's house is very orange, so I give it a little bit of extra warmth, where as the dark world is otherworldly and vibrant, so I push it towards blue. Then I render the work. Each location in looking glasses gets a different treatment. The dark world gets really strongly colored shadows, but because there's no light in the dark world I don't add highlights unless there's an obvious light source. The light world gets fully rendered (shadows, highlights, fill lights, rim lights, etc.) but I make sure to use desaturated colors. In the space between the dark and light worlds, I only shade with black shadows and white lights, it's also the only location that doesn't get a tint.
Finalizing
Lastly I finalize my dialog, which often goes through a couple of wording changes once it's on the page (You can see that happened here). Then I add my balloons, give them tails, and export the page.
And that's it!
#looking glasses#ferrousart#ferrouscomicscraft#I really wanted to do a breakdown of this page because of the three different visual styles#I know the âand then I colorâ step leaves a bit to be desired#maybe I'll do one of these just about my coloring process
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Can i ask how u do lineart so well,, it looks so smooth,,
I've always been very big on keeping my lineart clean and smooth! :) I'm very inspired by comic and graphic novel illustration, so naturally, I try to take notes from that sort of aesthetic in a lot of my art.
The short answer is that I just have a lot of practice, and am very picky about how my lineart looks. So, I'll often spend a long time making sure it looks just how I'd like it, before moving on, even if the lines aren't necessarily going to be the focus of the final drawing.
The longer answer kinda depends on what lineart you're asking about! The style of my lineart tends to change to fit whatever mood I'm going for, so I have a lot of different line styles with varying levels of smooth-ness.
On the super-smooth end of the spectrum, we have these bubbly, cartoony lines! These are a pain to draw, to be honest. But they really contribute to giving that cute look :) For these, I used the Clip Studio Paint G-Pen, with some minor adjustments to the settings, mainly so that there's not too much line width variation. The uniform, thick lines are important for this look! :) Drawing in this style really just a lot of trial and error. Usually when doing lineart, I'll erase away at lines to get them to the right thickness, or even just clean up a sketch and call that lineart, rather than doing lines on a new layer. But, that's a lot harder to do when the line thickness has to stay consistent. So, I end up just drawing the same line 7 times over, un-doing my work and re-doing it until i'm satisfied. Again, it's a pain! I used to draw like this a lot more frequently, but I stopped because I found that other approaches are often a lot more satisfying and rewarding. This is still great, for that cutesy look, though.
Next, we have what I would affectionately call my ref sheet lines. As much as it's probably a bad idea, I have a habit of just kinda skipping the lining stage of art. I'll just take my sketch, and tidy it up until it's clean enough. But for a drawing where there's only going to be flat colors, that sort of roughness can look sloppy, In my opinion. So, particularly when doing ref sheets, or other art which I don't intend to render, I will actually go through the effort of fully sketching out my idea and lining on a separate layer. The result is a lot cleaner and more deliberate, and looks a lot nicer when colored! Especially if I take the time to color the lineart :) I also really like doing small details with thin lines, particularly body/facial hair, elastic cuffs on clothing, and the seams of clothes, too. I like drawing those little details a lot, and I think they shine the most in my cleaner line style :D
For this, and for most of my lineart, I use these brushes which you can find on the Clip Studio Asset Store:
I'll bounce back and fourth between these, and Kozmo's Scratchy Scribbler brush, which you can find on Ko-fi!
Additionally, I have a modified G-Pen with a pencil texture that I think I made myself? I don't remember making it, but I also don't know where it came from! So i guess I did, lol.
A little more messy than my ref-sheet lines, we have the line style which you probably see most often on my page. As mentioned before, I usually kinda skip the sketch step for these? I don't encourage that, it's a bad habit of mine. But I make it work! I feel like the best way to explain my process with this is to just offer you a timelapse of my lineart process:
I just kinda... go. and it works out! most of the time. lots of cleanup and tweaking, and as you can see with Bdubs and Etho here, sometimes I do actually just. do a sketch and then line over it. So maybe I have no idea what my own process even is, LOL.
Now, to completely abandon your original question here's how i don't do smooth lineart! :D In this style, for the most part, I ignore the cleanliness of my lines, only really erasing with the lasso fill tool, when lines get too cluttered to actually read. Usually I'll only go for this when I'm already planning on painting over the lines. Because sometimes an idea doesn't need or want clean lines, and sometimes I just want to paint some values or slap some colors together and call it a day. Love my clean lines, but scratchy, messy lines are fun too! :)
Not sure if any of this really explained how i do smooth lineart, but I sure did talk about lineart for a while. I hope you could find something interesting or insightful in here! :) thanks for the ask, and I hope you have a great day <3
#inbox#digital art#art process#timelapse#lineart#another ~1k words on my art process?#yippee!!!#askeliyips#ask
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I Don't Get Tangents (Art Rant)
During my formative years as an artist back 2017 up to early 2020, I can remember watching a ton of art related content ranging from DeviantArt cringe video's to tutorials on how to draw manga to general art community topics like tracing and so on. But up until mid 2021, I had never heard of tangents. And even now, I still dont fully get it.
If you don't know, a tangent is pretty much when lines intersect in a visually non pleasing way. There's a great blog that goes into this which I'll link here:https://schweizercomics.tumblr.com/post/11966164633/the-schweizer-guide-to-spotting-tangents
Let me be clear by saying that I do know what tangents are and what they mean. I'm not an idiot. And its not like I don't understand why they're bad but at the same time I don't get it, if you know what I mean. I've seen examples of tangents where it does a good job at illustrating why its bad but there are some where I just cant see it. Going to the post I linked, I had a difficult time discerning what the tangents were for examples 2 through 5 until someone pointed them out. Even then, I still didn't find anything wrong with them despite the tangents. And if I'm being honest (and I mean no shade at the creator of the post), it does feel nitpicky. Because you wouldn't know it was a tangent unless someone pointed it out.
I guess in general, tangents are not to big of a deal, which is probably why I never heard of them until recently. It is something that can be easily avoidable, especially if you're not that skilled of an artist. But for someone like me who is a perfectionist, tangents act as some sort of curse. Especially when it comes to digital art.
I honestly feel its a lot harder for tangents to form in traditional works than it is for digital ones. When you're creating a complex illustration on paper, the backgrounds, characters, and other objects are on the same surface. As opposed to digital where you can separate those things via layers, and this is where tangents often tend to form for me. Since everything is separated, I'll tend to work on those elements separately when inking. And its not until then where I turn on the character or background layer, I see tangents forming. And only when its inked do I notice these and not when I'm sketching them. Maybe that has to do with the pencil brush not being as thick and bold? Im not sure. This has happened to me constantly, ever since I began separating my backgrounds from the layers my characters are on. Tangents just form and there's nothing I can really do about it, unless I revert to drawing everything on the same layer. And its a problem when it comes to comic pages as well. Particularly with speech bubbles and sound effects, which is a whole other can of worms entirely.
Now this doesn't mean I hate everything I've drawn in the past year or two, but noticing these tangents really bothers me. That these images are immediately deemed bad because of one or two tangents caused by separation of elements on layers. And like I said, all of this feels very nitpicky, as in you wouldn't notice it unless you were actively looking for it. It honestly feels like tangents are a fuel for perfectionism, an unhealthy amount of it at that. Its partially why I try not to let it bother me and do my best to avoid it.
No one is perfect, and that's okay. I don't think something as small and hyper specific as a tangent should bring an illustration down. Hell, I'm pretty sure art created by your favorite artists have one or two tangents in them that down make them bad because of it. Im not really sure how to end this but I don't try to be perfect as an artist because no art is perfect. And if it was, is it really art anymore?
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out of curiosity, at what point in the creation process of handplates did you start mapping out the full plot? and how often have you improvised scenes?
It was very early, haha. Well, at least certain plotpoints I got down very fast... a sketch of the brothers with Asgore shows up only two pages from where I doodled the first Handplates comic, with this one on the second page. You can also see me thumbing out this one on the same page, haha. So the basic ideas were already down at this point.
lol i was drawing asgore from memory and had no idea what he looked like
Looking back through old asks, it looks like I have the basic overall picture of it down by the end of that December (2015). The thing about the structure of Handplates though is that since each comic was sort of a self-contained scene, that meant it was easy to do a one-shot scene here and there if the idea came to me. The lab was a very easy place to do this with (you can see one of my story maps at the time left me a lot of room to add or move or remove scripts as they came to me, one of those wips never saw the light of day), and when the brothers were with Asgore it was easy to come up with little self-contained ideas too. So while I still had the overall structure down, there was room to slot in individual scenes I hadn't originally planned on, and since I was working so far ahead it was easier to find ways to make an idea fit into the rest of it.
After the brothers left Asgore's place though the plot got a bit more linear and connected and it was harder to just do a one-shot scene here and there. I think one of the last one-shot random scenes I did was the brothers practicing with their blasters, which was a more recent idea at the time too.
In the first part when I was doing them without a real plan I ended up having to do a lot of improvising to get them all in logical order later. One of the things that's always bugged me is that I did this one early before I really had solid plans and Papyrus mentions seeing things, but that became a problem later when I wanted to expand on the whole concept and how it came about. So they end up keeping it a secret for a while until Papyrus blows it, but if I'd had it all planned out beforehand it would have just been a straight shot from Lasers in the Eyes -> Future Vision -> Gaster finds out. I ended up having to finagle it a bit to get it to hang together, it's always kind of bothered me. If I had to make one edit to Handplates it'd probably be smoothing that whole arc out.
Most of the time though, the little solo random ones I did before I got it all down served as interesting linchpins for me to work around later. I like trying to figure out explanations for things and slotting things into place, so taking my random at the time ideas and putting them into a bigger logical puzzle was a fun challenge. That's another fun part about the self-contained structure of the comics, it makes it easier to do that kind of thing, haha.
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Hey, absolutely LOVE your art and I enjoy seeing your comics! Small question, how long does it take for you to make one page? And what is your process?
thank you!!!
THANK U!!!!!!!
it's a decidedly long-ish process and i'M KIND OF WONDERING HOW I MANAGED TO CHURN OUT TWO PER WEEK FOR A WHILE... (it was bad for my mental health i think is how). some artists can do like THREE OR EVEN FOUR PER WEEK!! but i am slow and so it takes me like 4-5 days to make one dfkjhgfdkjg
anyway first step is thumbnailing! that's when you make a tiny comic page and map out where you will have the panels, and what you want in them. also very good to figure out where your text bubbles will be at this stage.
NEXT!! transferring the thumbnail to a regular comic canvas! i like to thumbnail on paper with pencil because i eRASE STUFF A LOT (paneling is hard and i'm still learning), so i take a picture of it and then paste it onto the canvas >w>
NEXT!!! rough sketch phase. the picture quality tends to be jank as hell b/c i'm lazy & refuse to take more than one picture EVEN IF IT'S BLURRY, so i go over everything with a VERY QUICK SKETCH to lay out the same ideas. then I go in with a vector tool to make the panels!!
NEXT!!! Sometimes skipped depending on the page, is any 3D background work if I feel like i need it! which is usually always, because my perspective skills are uh. LACKING. (aND YES IT'LL TAKE LONGER TO LEARN PROPERLY IF I RELY ON 3D TOOLS BUT I DON'T CARE!! I JUST WANT TO TELL STORIES RIGHT NOW!)
this also involves MAKING the 3-d structure which i try to do if i know the scene i want to make is in a moderately complex looking area. it takes.......... so long............................ 3D modelling is hard....
NEXT!! Actual Sketch. This is me figuring out what the characters will look like Proper instead of throwing vague blobs on the page. i have to turn my brain on a higher setting for this part so it's usually a harder step for me. i also like to finish the background lineart by this stage.
NEXT!!! THE DREADED PEOPLE LINEART........ hardest stage. VERY BORING. lack the attention span for this to not be a horrific slog. HAVE TO HAVE SOME FORM OF ENTERTAINING NOISE ON OR ELSE CAN'T COMPLETE.
NEXT!! FLAT COLORS AND SHADOWS! self explanatory! i usually do the background first since it's cooler to watch characters come to life on an already completed BG.
NEXT!!!! Text stuff. Drawing out proper text bubbles, adding in text, changing the colors of the bubbles to match the characters.. this is also where i attempt to add SFX if there are any, and this is extremely difficult for me for whatever reason. STILL LEARNING LMAO.. i also blur stuff if i'm trying to show like... depth at this stage. like making one character blurry so you know they're closer to the "camera" so to speak
NEXT!!!!!!! AND FINALLY!!!! THE BEST PART!!!! Gradients. MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER. FUN TO APPLY. PULLS THE ENTIRE PAGE TOGETHER.
....................hm that's actually quite an involved & difficult process. i am only now realizing that
HM.
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Flannel and glasses
Summary: Chris has a really hard time concentrating when wearing his clothes... and glasses.
Warnings: smut (pure porn actually), dirty talk, blowjob, pain kink, rough sex, daddy kink, choking, glasses kink, fluffy ending +18
Words:Â 1.4+
MasterlistÂ
Chris tried to focus on reading the script, he really tried. But the way you bit your lower lip, the way the tip of the pencil touched your lips, the fact that you were wearing his flannel shirt and only this, made it impossible for him. Plus his pants got tighter and tighter as you bent over the table and propped your breasts up, making them perfectly round and close together. You, on the other hand, were unaware of anything, focusing on the notes and sketch of the graphic design that you had to prepare for work.
It was unknown how long, and Chris was still on the same page, reading the same sentences over and over again. And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, you decided to get up and go to the kitchen for the water which made you give him a perfect view of your half-covered butt and black lace panties.
Chris growled trying to correct himself on the couch which caught your attention. A smirk crossed your face at the tent in his pants that he was trying to get rid of.
"Need a helping hand?" you said tilting your head and looking at him, letting a drop of water run from your mouth and run down your neck and disappear between your breasts.
"You think you're so smart, little minx? Come here." Chris's voice tightened, making you shiver at his confidence and firmness. So you did as he said. You approached him, standing between his legs and letting his large hand slide over your bare thigh. Your pussy tightened around nothing, knowing what was about to come. Chris knew you well enough to know what he was doing to you now. And although it seemed at first that you had power over him, now the roles have changed. "Get on your knees," he said in a low voice accepting no objection.Â
And you did what he told you. Again. You knelt between his legs, resting your hands on his thighs. You moved it towards his crotch and started massaging the bulge. And considering he was wearing sweatpants, it wasn't that hard. He was big and hard, you could feel your panties getting wetter and wetter and sticking uncomfortably. You lifted his T-shirt a little and then leaned in, placing wet kisses on his abdomen close to the line of his sweatpants.Â
"Stop teasing me, baby girl"
"Sorry Daddy" you bit your lower lip knowing how it was affecting him.
You slipped your fingers behind the line of his sweatpants and pulled them together with his boxers, freeing his cock. Your mouth watered when you saw his pink tip and leaking precum. You sighed.Â
"Don't take your glasses off"
"I didn't know you had glasses kink Daddy" you smirk.Â
You licked your lips and stuck out your tongue giving him a few cat licks along the entire length of his cock. Chris gasped and placed his hand on the back of your head, pressing slightly to let you know to hurry. So you parted your lips and, without taking your eyes off him, took him to your mouth, inch by inch, until you take it deeper enough to feel the head of his cock against the back of your throat. There was a salty-sweet taste on your tongue that you had to admit you liked. He was heavy on your tongue and the feeling behind it was indescribable.Â
Chris had pleasure written on his face. Eyes closed, leaning comfortably against the couch, eyes fixed on you. You swirling your tongue around as if you had a lollipop in your mouth, letting the saliva cover the whole shaft. Moan left your mouth as Chris lifted his hips making you gag.Â
You had to admit you were a whore for this guy. Never thought you'd love to give someone head and be so wet that your juices practically dripped onto the carpet you were kneeling on. But here you are. His cock deep in your throat, his hips rising to the beat of your head moving. Sloppy and dirty. Exactly how you both loved it.Â
âYouâre doing so well baby girl, so good for Daddyâ he groans âI love your lipsâÂ
You let him from your mouth with a pop and focused your attention on his balls. You sucked, licked, and played with them while your hand-worked around his length. You turned your wrist back and forth as you moved up and down.
âFuck, PrincessâÂ
You were pleased with yourself to see what state you had brought him to.Â
You felt it begin to squirm, letting you know that it won't last long. You looked up at him for a moment, unbuttoning his shirt, which you were wearing, and then took it to your mouth again. You grabbed his hands and put them on your head, Chris knew what you meant.
"You're such a cock slut" he growled and as you put your hands on his thighs for stability, he began to lift his hips fucking your mouth and making you gag around his shaft.
Moans escaped from your lips and drops of tears ran down your cheeks. You felt like you could only come by having his cock deep in your mouth and the animalistic sounds coming out of his chest making your pussy drip.Â
You felt his cock twitched and you knew he is close. You looked into his eyes and a moment later you felt an explosion in your mouth. He released his seed in your throat riding of his orgasm.Â
He sank back into the couch, panting heavily. When he looked at you were licking your lips swallowing what he gave you.
"I love the taste of your cum in my mouth."Â
Fuck, he thought. He was hard again.Â
A moment ago you had his cock in his mouth, now you were lying on your back on the floor. He nudged your legs apart with his knees, spreading you as he gripped your hips, tugging them up, up before he sheathed himself deep in you with a single stroke.
You moaned like a cheap whore from a porn movie at every glorious inch of him, rising onto your forearms as your fingers grappled the material of his t-shirt.Â
âYou are so tight and wet. Who made you so wet, Princess? Answer me!"
How could he expect you to be able to say anything? You were shaking with the pleasure and pain you felt when it entered you without preparing you first. However, you had to admit to yourself that you liked the combination.
"Answer me. I won't repeat myself " his fingers tightened around your throat. You let go of his shirt and grabbed his wrist.
"You Daddy. You made me so wet."
"That's right. Me. You are mine. You belong to me. You are mine cock slut. My dumb baby who soaked from sucking my cockâÂ
You moan loudly before he kissed you raw, heart rates faster. Your tongues entwined in a kiss, and he's changing your breathing with every thrust, hearing your moans timed to his body.
âHarder!â you begged. Â
So he fuck you harder. Your mouth opens in pure ecstasy. He was in control. You surrender completely.Â
âI'm gonna cumâ you cry out looking in his eyes. Â
"Come on, Princess. Do a mess on my cockâ he groaned.Â
And as if on command, your body began to shake as your body engulfed in orgasm, you came hard, screaming his name. Moments later you felt Chris cum inside you painting your walls.Â
As you both came down from your heights, Chris got to his knees and pulled out of you watching the white substance flow out of your pussy.
"You look so beautiful. I could look at you like this for hours," he smiled softly and he leaned in to kiss your swollen lips âI love you, do you know that?âÂ
âYes and I love you too,â you said weakly.Â
"I guess it's time to go to bed. How about a hot bath and then sleep?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"But you're gonna have to carry me to Daddy, I don't think I can walk on my own after you fucked me hard and good" you held your hands out to him like a baby. Chris shook his head and laughed. And of course, he took you in his arms and carried you to the bathroom, where he prepared a bath for you, and then to bed, where both of you fell asleep, not bothering to put on your pajamas.
tags: @patzammit @ivetttâ @speechlessxxâ @angrybirdcrâ @ozarkthedogââ @sweater-daddiesdumbdorkâ @sweetflowerdreams @mostannoyingbillioner
#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x reader smut#chris evans fluff#chris evans fanfic#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fandom#chris evans fic#chris evans fanart#chris evans imagines#chris evans imagine#chris evans instagram#chris evans sex#chris evans smut#chris evans series#chris evans story#my writing#chris evans daddy#chris evans dirty#chris evans dirty imagines
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Artist Alone
Summary: Y/n is an artist for a large newspaper, the Daily Prophet. In a press conference Q&A with the Avengers, the past is pulled up, along with all the emotions to go with it.
SSB: Artist AU
Steve x Reader
You flashed your press pass to the Guard, not really listening as he gave you directions across the compound to the press lot and box. You parked in the back, walking slowly into the all-too familiar building, sitting in the middle of the crowd. Pulling out your sketchbook, you began setting up the page for the scene of the press conference, lightly tracing where each seat was and a rough outline of each figure.Â
The room filled rather quickly, people chatting and passing around gossip that had been making its rounds.
I heard Tony Stark was cheating with the recruits. False, Pepper would never let him near the recruits.
Well, I have on source that the three captains share a wife. Thatâs a good one, Sam, Bucky, and Steve liking the same woman? Highly unlikely. And you had that on good authority.Â
No, Youâre all wrong. Itâs Black Widow and Scarlet Witch who are together. That could be true, ever since you knew them, they had been close. Youâd have to reach out.Â
Conversations were stopped quickly as Pepper strolled out on the stage, a smile plastered on her face. She held a huge stack of clipboards and binders, most likely coming by between meetings.Â
âOkay, everyone. Letâs get this show on the road.â She smiled as a soft roll of laughter filled the room as people took their seats. âAs always, this is an open questions forum, with discussions ranging anywhere from daily life to the current state of affairs. Please be respectful, and know they have the right to not answer a question that may be too personal. This is Business after all. If you donât respect the rules, you will not be invited back next month.âÂ
As Pepper was talking, the seats behind her slowly filled. Tony in the middle, Steve beside him, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha filling in. This was going to be an interesting Q&A. You listened, sketching quickly how everyone was sitting and their silhouettes. The questions began hesitant and poised, a drone of nothing interesting going on.
âEver since I lost my wife,â You heard Steve say, your ears turning in. You refused to look up, just listened harder.
âPeggy?â The Questioner cut him off, on the edge of their seat.
âNo, Peggy and I were never married.â He chuckled. âAs you know, I keep my private life pretty private, but losing my wife really puts things into perspective. I want to be the best I can be, and do the best for all of you. Thatâs why I passed on the mantle.â
âStill not taking you back, Steve.â You muttered. Or, you thought you muttered. You could feel the eyes on you in the eerily quiet room. Your face turned red, looking up to find dozens of reporters around you with their jaws dropped. You glanced at the Stage, Bucky's bemused smirk as he whispered to Nat as she stifled a giggle, Steve's sad but loving look as his eyes never left you.Â
âI guess I deserve that. Doesnât mean Iâll stop trying though.â He smiled, nodding at you slightly.Â
âWell, Next Question?â Tony gestured, pulling the attention from you. Your eyes were still locked on Steve's, looking for something, as though all the answers would just leave from your eyes. You looked down, refocusing on the sketch before you. You never looked up again, not at the laughter, the probing questions about you, nothing. Only when shuffling around you happened did you look up, reporters snapping pictures as Peter came out. He waved bashfully, and you were sure his face was as red as the mask. The mask was pulled up to reveal his mouth, and that was all you needed to see to know Clint was around somewhere. Scanning the area as you sketched Peter in, You saw Clint standing off to the side of the stage, extremely close to the vent access just out of sight from the reporters. Maybe youâd add him in, casually leaning on the wall.Â
Peter was all it took to end the Q&A, Everyone standing and waving as they left the stage. Reporters jumped up, gathering their things quickly to try and make it back with the top scoop. A few lingered, talking and comparing notes with each other, already brainstorming headlines. You stayed in your seat, finishing up the drawing for your boss, hoping the little details werenât lost when moving to digital format.Â
âOf all the places,â Steve said from behind you. You leaned back, his body leaning over the back of your chair, a soft smile on his face. âHi, y/n.â
âSteve.â You nodded, ignoring the flutter in your chest. âHow are you?â
âGood, all things considered.â He gestured down to your book, a silent gesture to ask if he could see. You reluctantly handed it over, face turning pink. He opened it to the page you were on, His eyes soft.
âYou did this during the Q&A?â He asked, turning the book towards the light.Â
âI did. Iâm an art consultant for the Daily Prophet. They do news differently. Sketches over photos, truth rather than gossip. I really think the sketches give a great look at everything that happened, rather than one point in time which can be misleading like a photo.â You were rambling.Â
âI love it.â He smiled. âYou even got the dent in Bucky's arm.â He passed the book back, careful not to look at the other pages, something you always loved about him.Â
âWhatâs that one from? Surely Tony got the dent out from me throwing the bust at him.â
Steve laughed, thinking back to that occasion. âIn your defense, you did warn him not to look at your dress.âÂ
âThe man canât keep a secret, and I didnât want the surprise to be ruined for our wedding.â You smiled, thinking back to when life was easier. Nat and Wanda fussing over you for a final fitting, Pepper holding your hands so you stood still rather than dancing. Bucky had strolled in, hands over his eyes in a dramatic fashion to tell you something useless that couldâve waited. Threats were not working, so you grabbed the closest thing and wailed it at him when he peeked. You meant to hit near him, not leave a giant dent in his arm, rendering him out of commission for two days while Tony fixed it.
âSame dent, just not as bad. He even had Shuri put it in his new arm. âA reminderâ he calls it.â Steve laughed.Â
âYeah, a good reminder.â You sighed.
âIâm sure theyâd love to see you. If you want, that is.â Steve gestured to the stage, behind the glass hall to the compound. On the other side, the living quarters where you were sure everyone was congregating after the meeting.Â
âAre you sure?â You asked, biting your lip slightly. âI donât want to make you uncomfortable, or anything. I honestly thought I could slip in and out without being noticed. Just do my job and go. Not to interrupt your life, but then that question came up and I thought I was quiet but I guess-â You stopped abruptly, looking back at Steve with his humored look.Â
âI meant every word I said, y/n. I want to do better. You put everything into perspective when you left.â He reached out for your hand, giving it a little squeeze. âJust because I was too dumb to see it then doesnât mean I want to loose you forever. I still consider you a dear friend.âÂ
Your silence radiated in the room at his words.Â
âIâm not forcing you. You can say we arenât friends. I messed up. But I know theyâve missed you.â Steve let go of your hand, the tingling buzz traveling up your arm at the loss of his touch.
âIâd love to see them.â You gathered your things, following him down the hall and through the compound. Agents buzzed around, some going to training, some in heels or suits headed to offices. None paid the two of you any mind as they got from point A to point B. Steve badged you into the commons, Nat practically tackling you as you came in.Â
âHi.â You laughed, hitting the wall with your back so as to not fall over.Â
âI knew that was you. Clint said he saw you come in and I thought he was crazy until I saw you.â She squeezed you tightly.
âLet me breathe so I can tell birdbrain to stop stalking me.â You laughed, seeing Clint in the kitchen, chowing down on a pizza. Your stomach growled a bit as the sight, a reminder it was the middle of the afternoon and you skipped lunch.Â
âPizza,â Bucky said, handing you a plate. âBefore your stomach eats you from the inside out.â You punched him in the arm, right where the dent was.Â
âMissed you too, Buck.â You smiled, taking the plate gratefully. As you grabbed a slice, pagers went off around the room, Steve giving you an apologetic smile.Â
âI know the drill. Go. I can see myself out.â You smiled sadly. Nothing had changed.
âNonsense, You have me and Nat.â Wanda said, looping her arm in yours. âLet the men save the world.âÂ
Sam, Clint, and Bucky filed out behind Steve, you looking longingly at the door long after it closed.Â
âHave you guys seen Mr. Stark?â A voice called out from down the hall, echoing closer.
âHe just paged people to the hanger.â Nat called back, settling onto a barstool.
âAre you kidding me?â The voice came closer, a young boy coming out with messy hair. âI need him to take the parent lock off my....â His sentence trailed off as he looked at you confused, hand frozen midair. â...Hi.âÂ
âHi. you must be Peter.â You smiled. âY/n. Itâs nice to meet you.â You watched as Peter took you in, eyes turning to saucers at your press badge still clipped to your pants.Â
âPeter, yeah. Starks intern. I need the parent lock off my.. Computer!â He stumbled, neck turning red.
âShe knows, Peter.â Wanda soothed, her lips quirking up into a smile.
âShe knows?â He asked, hands finally unfreezing from the air and falling to his sides.Â
âShe knows.â Nat nodded. Peter's eyes locked on you, head tilted in curiosity.
âSteveâs ex-wife.â You shrugged. âA pleasure to meet the friendly neighborhood Spiderman.âÂ
Peter took you in, before his eyes lit up.Â
âYouâre the artist! I have to say I love your pieces, especially the one where Iâm upside down, but It also looks like Iâm mid flip? It was amazing.â He enthused. âMy Aunt May has it framed in the living room.â
âThank you. Though, how did you know I-âÂ
âTheyâre all over the compound!â Peter cut you off. âSometimes Mr. Steve stares at them, like heâs lost in some other world.âÂ
You looked at Nat and Wanda, both not meeting your eyes.Â
âAll over the compound?â You asked, leaning down to catch their eyes. Wanda handed you her keycard, knowing you needed to see.Â
âYou know your way around.â She sighed. âEspecially on the office floors, Pepper may be able to show you exactly where.â
You took her keycard, leaving the commons and wandering through hallways to the office building. Then you saw it, the first one on the wall to the lobby. A black frame contrasted the white paper, your drawing of the Shield headquarters building from the perspective of laying on the ground. A small silver plaque was beside it, your artwork name, a small description, and your signature, perfectly etched into the metal. But what caught your eye was the number in the corner. A small screen illuminated a tally count, artist work 1/39. Your jaw dropped, before quickly composing yourself. You moved through the space, mentally calculating how many sketches you had made public, and that almost everyone was on display in the compound. The team, the buildings, the wins and loses you put on paper in graphite to capture your life. Every sketch was framed and on display. You had found every frame, the last being outside Peppers office. It was a sketch of her and him, tinkering in his lab on her suit, the figures frozen right before they noticed you and shooed you away.
âThereâs actually forty in the building.â Peppers voice soothed from where she leaned in her doorway, looking softly at you and the picture. âThe last one just doesn't have public access.âÂ
âWhere is it?â You asked, eyes not leaving the photo.Â
âIn Steveâs office.â She sighed. âDo you want to see it?âÂ
You looked at her, really looked for the first time in a while. You could see the exhaustion on her face, but also the happiness. She could read everything about you in one look, always had, and that was something you always admired.Â
Without saying anything, Pepper led you down the hall to Steve's office, typing in the code and opening the door. The space was cozy, a small couch and table near the window, both covered in books and watercolor paints. The desk sat in the corner, papers neatly stacked in various boxes. In front of it, Thatâs what really captured your interest. It was different from the others, a sketchbook page torn out in the frame.Â
How I see you. Was written in your loopy handwriting across the top, a picture of Steve hunched over his book, hair falling into his face, shield abandoned in the background with a blanket draped over it. But that wasnât the only thing in the frame. Another page overlapped slightly, in Steveâs careful block handwriting âEverything I lost.â It was a sketch of you from behind,, curled over your own sketchbook gazing out the window. The watercolors of the scene were muted, but over you they were bright and explosive. Tears filled your eyes, sitting on the couch and curling into a blanket, just looking at the pictures.Â
__________
âY/n?â The light clicked on from the other side of your eyelids. âY/n what are you doing here?âÂ
Steve's soft voice woke you up more, lazily opening your eyes and sitting up. You looked around, processing where you were. The lamp lit up the room in a soft glow, Pitch black night outside the window. Steve's Office. You fell asleep. Your eyes panned over to where Steve was, kneeling beside the couch in his uniform. The deep blues and blacks were dirty, but it looked like he had washed his face before coming into the office. His boots were gone, probably walking around barefoot at the late hour. Time caught up to you, his eyes laced with concern and something else, something soft.
âIâm so sorry.â You said softly, suddenly wide awake. âI shouldnât have- Pepper let me in to- I should go.â You threw the blanket off, unsure who covered you, and grabbed your shoes.
âSlow down, y/n,â Steve tried to catch you but you were flying out the door, a stream of unfinished sentences escaping your lips. âPeaches.â
The nickname left his lips, desperate, freezing you in place. In the middle of the hallway, shoes in hand, hair a mess, and tears in your eyes, you froze. Memories flooded your mind, the laughter, bliss. Curling up on the couch together at the end of the night, Working in the same office when doing touch ups, or him taking his files out to a location with you to get a new scene. The subtle shift, work taking over more, the arguments, the empty nights. Every moment came flooding back, every desperate plea of your name, every apology, every painstaking memory of a different time.Â
Steveâs hands touched your shoulder softly, turning you towards him.Â
âItâs late, peaches. Please, please stay.â He murmured, his hand coming to your cheek, stroking away the single tear.Â
âI canât do it again, Stevie. I canât put myself in the situation to choose again. I canât fight for your attention.â Your voice wavered, so quiet as to not break.Â
âIâm not asking you to.â He shushed, pulling you into him. His chin rested on your head, swaying slightly as he held you. âI shouldâve never asked you to from the beginning.âÂ
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Love Letters
Tenya Iida X Writer!Reader
(This is absolutely a self insert leave me alone)
Requests are open!!
Tenya's morning routine was always the same. He was awoken by his alarm at 6:20 A.M. He went to the bathroom and washed his face. Then he'd get dresses, comb his hair, and go downstairs for breakfast. After he'd eaten, he would brush his teeth, and head to class with his peers.
This system was so ordinary, so methodical, that he almost missed the folded sheet of printer paper on the floor in front of the door.
Probably Mr. Aizawa, he'd thought, stooping to collect the note. His teacher occasionally left notes taped to the class rep's door, asking him to take attendance or start class if Aizawa knew he was going to be late. Still nothing out of the ordinary for Tenya.
When he unfolded the paper, though, he was surprised to see not a message from his teacher, but rather a very sweet note; something that Tenya was not accustomed to getting at all.
I hope it does not alarm you to hear that I adore you. Your unbridled passion for heroics, your eyes; which are oceans of kindness, and your aptitude for helping others. Every little bit of you never once ceases to amaze and enamor me. Though you are a vessel for speed, you choose to walk alongside your friends, instead of tearing off into the future. You build me up and make me feel strong, whether you realize it or not. You make me feel like I'm actually worth something. You keep my head up when I feel as though I'm drowning in a sea of my insecurities.
Perhaps one day I'll have the courage to tell you this in person. For now though, this will suffice.
The letter was not signed off, but rather ended with a red pen sketch of a heart. Tenya's eyes nearly doubled in size. He re read the note several more times to make sure he hadn't imagined the loving words. Who could've possibly written it? He wasn't aware of anyone in his class who harbored these kinds of feelings, much less for him, but he had never been particularly good at reading emotions.
Realizing he was going to be late for breakfast if he dwelled any longer on it, Tenya pocketed the love letter and headed downstairs. The mystery would have to wait until after school. His responsibilities always came first, no matter how often his mind still wandered back to the letter in his pocked, yearning to pull it out and read it yet again, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming.
. . .Â
Whoever had written the note was smart, Tenya realized. They had typed it, leaving no room for the possibility that he could recognize the handwriting. The only part that had been done by hand was that little red heart, but a doodle wasn't nearly enough to tell him who the author was.
He turned instead to analyzing the words themselves.They were well chosen, poetic even. The fifty cent words like "unbridled" and "enamored" led him to believe that the author was an experienced writer, or perhaps simply read a lot.
Yaoyorozu was a good contender, she was an eloquent speaker. Kaminari also read a lot, he was good with literature. And there was Tokoyami, who seemed to speak exclusively in poetry. Tenya jotted down his ideas, crafting a short list of his classmates.
"Oh, (L/N) writes a lot," he mused, adding their name to the list. (L/N) actually made a lot of sense.
Oh, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Perhaps he only read the love letter in (L/N)'s voice being he wanted it to be them.
...or maybe it actually wasn't a bad idea.
(L/N) was always writing. They viewed it as a privilege, a challenge. They leapt at every creative writing assignment they got in English class, and the few stories they had shared were spectacularly inventive and elegantly crafted.
Tenya halted, scanning the message again. It suddenly seemed more and more likely that (L/N) was in fact the author.
He chewed his lip. It was too easy. Too convenient. Too perfect. How could someone he already cared for so deeply send him something like this? It was too good to be true. Besides, it was only one note. How could be possibly-
"What if they write more?" Tenya suddenly said out loud, his train of thought coming to a screeching halt. "I'd have a better line up to analyze. I could also ask Present Mic for the short stories assignments he's grading so I can pass them back. I could probably be able to look over at least a few of them and see if I recognize the writing."
A man on a mission, Tenya resigned himself to waiting until the next day to see if another note appeared, and to ask Present Mic about the stories.
Too anxious and oddly excited, he hardly got any sleep.
. . .Â
Sure enough the next morning, there was a new note. Tenya all but flew out of bed and scrambled to unfold it.
I find myself caught in a storm of uncertainty all too often. I'm tossed from wave to wave in an ocean of fear. You are my rock. You hold me fast and secure in this ever-changing and frightening world. You are safe. You are my home.
You are my everything.
Tenya unconsciously read the letter in (L/N)'s voice again. He felt his heart beat harder at the thought of them penning these beautiful words.
"You don't know that it's them," he scolded himself, unwillingly placing the new note on his desk next to the old one. He tore himself away from them to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
The new message did offer one new clue already, though. It used the same ocean metaphor as the first one. It was a comparison the author seemed to favor. Maybe he could find it in their other works.
He had to get his hands on those short story assignments before he lost his damn mind.
. . .Â
Tenya felt slightly uneasy about telling Present Mic he wanted the stories to pass back, even though he was technically telling the truth. He was eventually going to pass them back. When he was done looking through them.
A lie of omission is still a lie, that annoying voice in his head insisted, but he pretended he couldn't hear it, pushing it down. It wouldn't do any harm, he rationalized. And he had to know.
Tenya flipped through the papers, looking for (L/N)'s first. It was a desperate wish that they were the author of the anonymous notes, but it also seemed to make just enough sense to justify thumbing through their assignment.
There. (L/N) always went above the beyond with creative writing, and the five pages of neatly typed text was a testament to that. It was the longest assignment in the stack by two pages.
Wait.... typed?
It was probably a coincidence. After all, (L/N) hadn't been the only student who'd opted to type their story. Tenya was too convinced already that they had sent him those letters for him to entertain the idea that it was simply just a coincidence.
He skimmed the story quickly before class started. He found himself impressed, not for the first time with (L/N)'s abilities as a writer. Each word was carefully selected to craft perfect sentences and immaculate paragraphs full of feeling and vibrant imagery.
He stopped suddenly a page in as the protagonist compared their anguish to a stormy sea, heavy waves tossing them to and fro.
There it is again.
The sentiments from the letters, which Tenya had all but seared into his brain, echoed that of what he was reading now. The vocabulary, the imagery, the deep feelings evoked by each sentence, and even the fact that it was typed.
It had to be them. It had to be (Y/N). It was just too perfect.
. . .Â
(Y/N) sat a few seats ahead and to the right of Tenya, so he spent quite a bit of class time staring unabashedly at the back of their head. They were scribbling madly on a sheet of lined paper. Lecture notes? Short story?.... Love letter?
People often say that opposites attract. Tenya was just realizing how true that was as he sat in class, half listening to the lesson, half watching (Y/N). He was all angles and sternness, whereas they were flexible and soft. Perhaps it didn't always show physically on their features, but in their mannerisms, and even in their writing, they were stunning curves, twists and turns. With them, you didn't always know where you were going, but it was an adventure all the same. They were a warm, comforting feeling. They felt like home.
An idea bloomed in Tenya's mind, a delectably wonderful way for him to show (Y/N) that he reciprocated their feelings. Having a difficult time smothering his smile, Tenya fished through his school bag for a sheet of lined paper.
. . .
You frowned thoughtfully at your paper, lips pursed. You tapped your pencil against your dorm room desk as you considered your next words.
This was the hardest, part, but still the most fun. The first draft. You could change whatever wording or dialogue you wanted while you were typing it up, nut you still needed a good base. You still had to carefully choose every word that you wanted to use to move your audience.
Tenya Iida
You grinned giddily just thinking of him. He had given almost no indication these past two days that he'd gotten your letters, but you could tell. His eyes had darted around, scrutinizing everyone they landed on. It had felt a bit like being dissected when his gaze had fallen upon you.
There's no way he knows, you had reasoned, giving him a tight smile in return. He's just trying to sus me out. For all he knows, it could be literally anyone.
You had ridden that wave of shaky confidence in your anonymity, all the way to that moment, where you turned around in your desk chair, intending to grab your phone, only for your eyes to fall upon a folded up piece of paper next to your door.
You felt an anxious lurch in your gut as you shakily picked it up. "If this is Iida telling me to never speak to him again I'm going to cry."
You unfolded the message, fully expected the worst, and praying to whatever god was or wasn't out there that you were wrong and that Iida wasn't completely creeped out and now hated you.
You remind me of the ocean waves you write about so often. You're a crescendo of carefully chosen words, actions, and kind thoughts. You're soft yet strong, never backing down from a fight or a friend in need. Your determination and drive impress me to no ends, and make me want to impress you as well.
You've cast a spell on me for quite some time now, but your hold over me was only strengthened by the heartfelt messages you sent me. I'm beyond happy that you share my feelings.
The letter wasn't signed, but it was written in what was distinctly Iida's penmanship. He had ended his message the same way you had ended yours; with a hand-drawn heart.
"Oh my god," you whispered, paper crinkling as your grip tightened around it. You read it again. Then again. And then again. "Damnit, he's right. I do use the stormy sea metaphor a lot."
Note still clenched in your hand, you sped-walked to Iida's dorm room, heart thundering in your chest. The thought that Iida; sensible, respectful Iida would have feelings for a disaster like you was a little discombobulating to say the least, so you were determined to hear it straight from the horses mouth.
You rapped on his door, foot tapping impatiently. The few seconds it took for Iida to answer dragged on for what felt like an eternity. When he finally did open the door, a pleasantly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing you.
You held up his note. "Hi. Um, so."
Iida chuckled, cheeks reddening. He gestured you in as he stepped back to his desk, where he produced the letters you had sent. "So."
"Y-you're not messing with me, right?" you asked nervously. "'Cause if you are I'm going to kick you."
"Trust me, everything I wrote is 100% true." He smiled earnestly. "And you...?
"I think those letters are the most honest I've ever been about my feelings ever." you admitted, shifting your weight from foot to foot. A wry smile played on the edges of your lips. "I was drafting you another one, but you just had to go and find me out and ruin it."
"You can still give it to me," Iida said hopefully, palming the back of his neck with his hand, flustered.
You laughed a little, your own cheeks warming up. You twisted the hem of your shirt. "Uh, can I hug you?"
"O-of course!"
You wrapped your arms around Iida's torso, resting your head on his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. He slowly followed suit, snaking his arms around your shoulders. He let out a contented sigh, relaxing into your touch. He was so warm. He was a cozy fire in the dark of winter, a blissful reprise from a cold and harsh world.
You pursed your lips, stifling a snicker. I've gotta write that down.
#bnha#mha#tenya#iida#tenya iida#tenya iida x reader#tenya x reader#iida x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader
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đŚđ˛đľđťđđđ°đľđ [đŻđđ]
â đ°đľđŽđ˝đđ˛đż 6
[pairings]
JK x female!oc, bunny!Hybrid!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, leopard!Hybrid!Jin x human!female!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin
[warnings]
Describing of injuries, mentions of suffering, mentions of former abuse, traumatized Jin, angst, crying
[words]
4.4k
[author]
I hope you all have an amazing Sunday today! I am still stuck in my exam period, but fortunately it will be over soonđđź
If you are interested in a Jimin!Hybrid Story, I can highly recommend you to read Inferiority complex written by the cutest author ever @starlightauroras-main! Please, check out her profile and leave her a lot of likes and motivating comments. She deserves it so much!
Also, check out the the other profiles that inspired me to write my own story. You will find the links to their profiles below this chapter.
If you have an other recommendations or criticism for me, I am always open for it!
Stay healthy and safe!
Mę¨
[chapter 5 ||| chapter 7]
âNow, if you press this button the camera will snap a photo.â She explained to Jungkook, who was staring at the smart phone in her hand.
âA photo.â He just whispered to himself, before he carefully took the small piece of metal out of the girlâs hand.
He turned the phone in all direction, slide his fingers over it and even lifted it up towards his nose to sniff it. His eyebrows cocked up, before he let it sink down again. Carefully, he tipped his finger right in the middle of the touchscreen. When nothing happened, he looked confused and turned it again, before he suddenly began to shake it up and down wildly in his hands.
âHey, hey, hey!â The girl laughed, as she tried to stop his moving arm. âBe careful, Jungkook. Itâs really breakable. If you want to take a picture, you have to press here. Look.â
The girl took the phone back and stood up from the couch. She kneeled herself in front of the bunny Hybrid, who was once again looking at her with wide eyes.
âSay cheeeessseeee.â She said in hight voice, hoping that he would smile for her.
Of course he didnât smile. In fact, his confused eyes flickered to his right side, trying to get an answer from his brother, who was sitting at the very end of the couch to Jungkookâs right side. He was looking up from the book he had asked for permission to read earlier, his face showed the same confusedness as Jungkookâs face.
When Jungkook had showed him the girlâs book shelf earlier, his eyes had caught the colourful cover of the big cookbook which she got from her mom when she moved into her very first apartment. He hadnât exactly asked her to read it, but the girl had seen the way his eyes had moved over towards the bookshelf from time to time, like he was bursting with curiousness.
When she had told him, that he was free to read the book whenever he would like to, he first had shaken his head, but eventually he had shyly asked her again while the three of them were sitting on the couch. Since then, he had been sitting accurately at the end of the sofa, completely absorbed in the pages of the book.
âJungkook!â She tried to get the boyâs attention back. âJust smile at the camera.â
Jungkook ripped his eyes away from his brother. When his eyes met with the girlâs phone, he didnât smile, though. He just kept looking confused, but really adorable at the camera.
When she was done taking some more pictures, she quickly saved it to her album, before she sat back next to the bunny, showing him the photo she had taken.
âAnd where do they come out?â He asked curiously, as he tried to look for something on the phone that would print out the taken picture.
The girl just laughed again. He was so innocent and adorable when he tried to understand the world around him. His curious personality seemed to suck up as much information as it could get, like he was a toddler that just needed to explore the world around him.
âMy phone canât print the picture.â She smiled at him, keeping her secret that she would give him his own picture on the wall. âBut it is safe and sound on my phone, and every time you want to see it, I can show it to you.â
Jungkook didnât look convinced at all, but after a few seconds of just staring at the girl, he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to his note book that was still laying in his lap.
Hope shook her head. The whole day he had clued to his note book, sketching and scribbling wildly over the white pages until they were filled with thousands of lines. He didnât even tried to play the guitar or read in his favourite book, which he did every day.
She sighed. Maybe he just had to process the previous days and thatâs why he tried to organize his thought in his very own special way. She would let him.
âI will prepare dinner for us.â She said and stood, smoothing her leggings. âBut first I would like to take a look at you injures, Jin. I think it is time to change the bandages. O â Of course only if you let me.â
The leopard was once again looking up from his book. The girl could see the discomfort in his eyes, as his eyes flicked to Jungkook for a moment and then back at her, before he nodded almost unnoticed.
âOkay, I will just get the first aid kit.â She turned around and got the kit from the storage, before returning at the couch.
Jungkook had laid his note book aside and was now sitting next to his brother, who had already removed his shirt. Both of them were holding hands with each other the whole time while she felt over his body.
The smaller scratches at his front were still swollen, but at least they had stopped bleeding over the day, so she could remove the bandage completely. She tossed the used bandages aside, before she carefully applied a healing salve his injures. Jin hissed in pain, as the cold gel touched his sore and sensitive skin.
âI am sorry.â The girl whispered when she saw Jin squeezing Jungkookâs hand harder. âBut it will help your injures healing faster.â
After another few minutes, she was done with his front side and slowly moved towards his back, that looked much worse. Though the big scratch on his back was still covered by the bandage, the girl could make out the red stain of blood that had soaked the white material. She carefully removed it, trying hard to not hurt the poor boy more.
âThis looks bad.â She whispered to herself, as she looked at his back.
âWill he be okay?â Jungkook was looking worried between his brother and the girl.
âDonât worry, Kookie. It looks bad, but nothing we canât fix.â She tried to give him a bit of optimism, as she weakly smile at the bunny. âIt will be better from now on.â
This scratch there was the worst of all. Even if she wasnât a doctor, she could clearly see that it was infected from all the dirt and dust that had come in contact with the open wound. Hope took the wet clothe that she had placed next to her and began to whip of the dry blood, before she applied a small amount of salve as well and wrapped it up with a new, clean bandage.
âAll done.â She pulled of the used hand clothes and tossed them into the bin as well.
Jungkook helped Jin to put on a new shirt, while the girl cleaned up all the supplies she had used. When she was done, she made her way over into the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner for the three of them.
While she waited for the water to boil, her gaze fell once again onto the two Hybrids cuddling at the couch. When she had found Jungkook, she had thought that his injured wrists and knees were bad, but it was nothing in comparison to Jinâs.
She wanted so bad to believe that it was okay now, because both Hybrids were safe here, with her, but she knew that such a kind if misuse was not a single case. There were thousands of Hybrids, that werenât as lucky as Jin and Jungkook. Hybrids, that suffered every day and absolutely no one cared about them, until it was too late.
How could she ever change something in such a cruel world?
The dinner went over the same way as the breakfast. Jin hesitated at first to eat his food, always looking at the girl to ask for permission, but eventually Jungkook managed to convince him, so he ate least at half of his plate. Afterwards, both Hybrids helped her to washed the dishes, before she announced that she would take a shower.
When she was done, she quickly brushed her hair and changed into her pyjama, before returning back into the living room. She stopped in her tracks when she stepped around the corner, while her heart swelled at the scene on the sofa.
Both boys sat on the sofa. Jungkook had laid his head onto his brothers shoulder, cuddling up close to his, while both of their bodies were half covered by the big, fluffy blanket. They had their head turned towards the TV on the wall, watching with wide eyes and open mouths how the yellow figures were running around the screen. They were so fixed on the flickering screen, that they didnât even noticed how the girl had pulled out her phone, taking the most adorable picture of the two brothers.
She saved the photo into her special album. This would definitely be the picture that will end up at the wall.
ââŚ.And then she found me sitting in that alley.â Jin listened to every word Jungkook told him. âShe took me in and gave me food and something to drink, like she gave you.â
Night had already taken over the day, and both boys were lying in the double bed in Jungkookâs room. The day had stresses Jin out more than he had ever thought.
Everything about the girl and her life overwhelmed so much, making it really hard for him to process the smallest things. In addition to that, he still felt weak and vulnerable with all the injures covering his body.
He didnât know what the girl was planning to do with them, and it was hard for him to believe that she acted out of kindness. Humans werenât nice. They had proven it to him more than enough times. He tried so hard to believe her act, trying to believe it for Jungkook, but he just couldnât.
This girlâŚHopeâŚhad bought him from those evil people. She had taken him and Jungkook in, given them some food and a bed to sleep, but when would they have to pay the price?
He sighed lightly and looked over at the bunny, who was still talking like a waterfall. Jungkook looked much better than the last time Jin had seen him. He wasnât just a pale, skinny boy anymore. His cheeks were plump and full, covered by a natural shade of slight red, the fur on his ear wasnât greasy and messy, no, it was literally shining and smooth. And when did had he gained those muscles?
He closed his eyes. All those days sitting in this cage in the basement, hoping and praying for Jungkook to be somewhere save had been a torturing for him. His owners adopted him a few years before Jungkook from Korea. They kept in locked in there, alone and scared, only getting him out when they needed him to fight some other Hybrids. But the day they brought Jungkook home, the scared looking, skinny bunny, he knew that he wanted him to have a better life.
Jungkook had been the only reason he kept fighting all those nights. If it wasnât for him, he would had given up a long time ago.
After Jungkook had escaped that night, the punishments had been worse than before. They looked him up, kicked him or slapped him with that heavy belt. Luckily for him, the inspectors had found the doping liquid in his blood, so they blamed that on his behaviour. If they had found out the real reason he had put up that show, he would be dead by now.
âJungkook, you know we canât stay forever, donât you?â He eventually whispered when the room felt silence.
It broke his heart to see Jungkookâs ears dropping, as he mentioned their parting, but he would never allowed someone to hurt his younger brother again. They had to leave before the situation would turn into a bad one, and they once again would be caught into a nightmare.
âB â But Hyung.â The bunnyâs voice cracked, and Jin saw a tear forming in the corner of his eyes. âI donât want to leave. I like it here and â â
âJungkook.â Jinâs voice wasnât angry or loud, as he interrupted him. âYou know we canât. She did more than enough for us. She saved you, and thatâs more than I could ever ask for. But she wonât let us stay forever. Why would she? Weâre nothing but a burden to her live.â
Jungkook thought for a moment. He fiddled his fingers over the soft duvet, wiggling himself deeper into the soft fabric and next to his brother.
âBut she said that â that she liked having me around.â He whispered again, still staring at his fiddling fingers. âAnd she saved you, too. Maybe if we would ask nicely, she would allow us to stay.â
âI donât think so, Kook.â The older one sighed slightly, pulling his brother closer into his arms, burring his nose in his hair. âShe will soon start to work. She will find herself a boyfriend and then there wonât be enough space for us anymore. I am so sorry.â
Jungkookâs eyes went even wider when he mentioned the word âboyfriendâ. Jin hadnât missed the way the younger one talked about the girl. Jungkook saw her as his saviour.
âBut â But I thought that maybe â â He tried again, but Jin knew what he wanted to say.
âForget it, Kook.â He stopped him in his mid-sentence. âItâs impossible. You will never be more to her than a Hybrid. And even if, what would the people think of her? They will laugh about her. Do you want the people to laugh about her?â
âNo! But she wants to defend Hybrids in front of the judge.â Jungkook was desperately trying to make up a reason to not leave the girl. âShe likes Hybrids.â
âBut she also said that she will not earn much money.â She whispered into Jungkookâs hair. âShe will struggle to have enough money for herself, how should she provide us? She will give us away at some point, Kook. It will happen, sooner or later.â
He lifted his and whipped the tear away, that had slide down the bunnyâs cheek.
âBut Hyung.â Jungkook seemed to accept the fact that they had to leave soon. âCan I take my book with me? It is my favourite and I want to read it again.â
âYou canât, Kook.â Jin whispered back. âThere is no room for us to carry a book all the time, beside, it is her book. She will not give it away like that.â
âO â Okay Hyung.â He sniffed and buried his head into the blanket. âBut when will we leave?â
âWe will wait until my injures are not infected anymore. So I guess a few more days are left.â A gasp left Jungkookâs mouth, but Jin kept talking. âI met a fox Hybrid at the last fight. He told me about the circus a little bit outside the city. He is staying there, too. They are getting foot and a place to sleep. We will try to get a place to stay there.â
âBut I donât want to leave, Jin-Hyung.â Jungkook cried harder, breaking Jinâs heart with every word.
âIt will be better like this.â
Jin had stayed with her and Jungkook for a few days now. He and Jungkook seemed to get closer and closer with every hour they would spend together, which is actually a good sign to see, but something has been going on with Jungkook since the day Jin had arrived.
He wasnât the bubbly, happy boy anymore, who would be lying on the couch upside down, reading his book, or helping her preparing dinner for the three of them, like he did before. He even barely spoke to her at the dining table, which got her worried the most, because usually, he could talk like a waterfall. She barely ever say him again, because he stayed in his room with Jin, and if he was out, he sketched in his note book like crazy.
Hope didnât say something though. Maybe he had just a bad phase right now, or it was still strange to him that he has his brother around, who also had a difficult past. She had told him several time before, that he could came to her whenever he had problem, so she hoped that he would really come to her when something bad was bothering him.
Jin was another case. He was very polite when she saw him. He would answer her questions with few words, or help her to set and reset the table, before he and Jungkook would disappear in their room. But nothing more.
She sighed. She really missed the times she and Jungkook sat on the couch together, watching the Simpsons all night long, of how they played the guitar together. She had hoped so hard the she would find such a good connection with Jin as well, but with every passing day, this wish seemed to fade away.
It was almost 5 pm, when she decided to stop working. She closed her laptop and leaned herself back in the chair she sat in. Normally, Jungkook and her would be sitting on the couch, talking about random things. She smiled at the memory, when both of them had debated for hours who the best Simpsons character was. She didnât know that the boy could be so stubborn.
The appointment at the authority was also coming closer and closer, and she still hadnât talked to the boys about the adoption. Maybe it would cheer Jungkook when he would hear that she wanted to adopt him and his brother. After all, he felt comfortable in her apartment.
She stood up from her chair, bundling all her braveness to talk to the boy, when she heard a door opening.
âOh, perfect timing you both.â She said happily, as she saw Jin walking out of the room, followed by Jungkook. âI wanted to talk to you. Can you take a â Jungkook? Are you crying?â
The bunny didnât reply. He just kept his head down and tried to hide behind his older brother. The sound of his whimpers filled the room. What was going on here? First, he started behaving strangely, and now he was crying heavily, something bad was going on here, and she didnât like the way it went.
âJungkook, what happened?â Are you okay?â She tried to take a step forward, wanting to comfort the boy, but Jin stopped her.
âWe are very thankful for everything you did for me and my brother, Ms. Hope.â He politely bowed his head, before he turned around, nudging Jungkookâs arm slightly. âCome on.â
Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he dropped his ears. Her heart broke when his swollen eyes looked up at hers. He had clutched his favourite book tightly to his chest, before he turned his head around, looking at Jin. Jin just nodded sadly.
âWhat is going on? You are scaring me guys.â She tried to make a joke, hoping that this situation wasnât as bad as it seemed.
Jungkook, however, sniffed again, before he stretched his arms out, holding the book out towards her. He didnât looked into her eyes.
âOh Kookie.â She sighed. âIf itâs about the book, you can keep it. I donât want it back.â
The bunny just shook his hand and pushed the book more forward, until she finally took it from.
âOkay, we will leave now. Thank you again for anything.â Jin suddenly said, laying a hand on Jungkookâs shoulder and pushing him towards the front door.
It took the girl a while to finally process the situation. This situation wasnât just bad, this was a farewell. The two Hybrids wanted to leave herâŚforever. Her mind was racing with questions. Why would they want to leave all the sudden? Did she make them feel uncomfortable in some way?
âWait, wait, wait, wait!â She pushed her feet into the ground, running over to the door and blocking it, before Jin could grab the handle. âYou canât just leave. Why would you leave all the sudden? Did I make you feel uncomfortable? Where you want to go? Itâs not safe for you to be out there alone.â
Panic filled her voice and her heart began to beat faster. This was not liked she had planned to the day to end. She felt her eyes swelling up with tears, as she realized that they were serious.
âWe donât want to pull you down, thatâs why we are leaving.â Jin said calmly, before he bowed gain. âWe are very thankful for all your efforts, though.â
âOkay guys, letâs not rush this, okay?â Her eyes flicked between Jungkook, who was still sniffing and not looking up at her, and Jin, who locked at the girl confused. âFirst of all, you have never been a burden to me in any kind. Neither you Jin, nor Jungkook. I know that you are scared that I will hurt you at some point, and I know that those people threatened you badly, but I am not like this. How could I ever hurt you? I know that havenât known each other for long, especially not the both of us, Jin. But I want you to know that those 4 week were one of the most happiest weeks I have had in a very long time. Since I can think, all the people I care about left me. My father, my mother, my friends. They all left me without a reason, not even saying goodbye. I thought that I was meant to be alone, but since I took Jungkook in that night, my live became happy again. He made me happy. And I didnât save you, Jin, because I had to, I saved you because I care about you and Jungkook. I just â I canât force you to stay with me, and â and if you really want to leave I wonât be the one to stop you, but I am begging you to think about it again. Please.â
The room was left in silence after she had stopped speaking. No on, especially not the two Hybrids knew what to say or what to do.
âI donât want to leave.â Jungkook suddenly cried.
He made a few steps forward and just threw himself into the girlâs arms. He buried his face into her neck, with his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. The girl wrapped her arms around the bunny, softly driving her hands through his deep brown hair, whispering sweet words into his ear.
They stayed like this for several minutes, until Jungkook pulled away from the girl. She took his face in her hands and softly whipped the tears away from his wet cheeks, before pressing a short kiss onto the top of his nose.
âDo you really care for us?â She moved her eyes away from Jungkook in front of her. âYou really care for us enough that you let us stay with you without any conditions? What will the people think about you when â â
âI never cared about other peopleâs opinion about me.â She quickly interrupted him. âThey can think about me whatever they want to think. Only I know what is true and what is false about my life, and only I decide who I want to have in my life or not. You and Jungkook, you deserve so much more than to be treatened like animals. I know that I canât offer you much, but I want to try to give you the life you deserve, a life love and safety. I am begging you to give me another chance. Give me a chance, and if you want to leave after that again, I wonât stop you.â
Jinâs gaze dropped to the ground, his ears sinking down. Hope knew what for a hard decision he had to make, and she knew that he didnât decide whether it was good for him or not, but if it was good for Jungkook or not.
âI â â She coughed, not knowing if her idea would make the situation better or worse. âI actually wanted to ask you something earlier. When I bought you, Jin, from those people, I had to sign some adoption papers, so I can legally take you with me, but I still havenât changed your owner status at the authority, wanting to let the choice to you, whether you want to stay or not. I also wanted to ask Jungkook, if he would be okay with me adopting him, once I am at the authority.â
Both Hybrids were staring at the small girl with their eyes open.
âAre you really serious?â Jungkook eyeâs seemed to pop out of his head, sparkling brightly.
He hugged the girl again, while Jin just looked with wide and teary eyes at the girl.
âCan you promise us, that you will never hurt us in any way?â Jin had the tears standing in his eyes.
âI â no I canât.â She whispered, knowing that any other answer would be a lie. âI canât promise you that everything is going to be perfect, and I canât promise you that I will always make the right decision. But I can promise you that I will never leave you, and that you will always find a friend in me, donât matter what will happen in the future.â
Jin kept looking at the girl, not saying anything.
âHyung.â Jungkook turned back towards his brother, taking his hand in his. âPlease, let us stay with Hope. Please. I donât want to live on the streets again, not knowing what will happen next. I am so scared.â
Jinâs eyes flicked between the girl and his brother. Anything he ever wanted was for his brother to be safe. The girl made him happy, he saw it too. But the fear, that at some point she will change her mind and break his heart was still sitting in his bones. Never again, he would let anyone hurt Jungkook again.
But then, she had never showed any hints that she wanted to hurt them. Should they really take the risk and stay with this human for the rest of their lives? He had no clue.
âWe will â â He looked into the begging eyes of his brother. âOkay. We will stay.â
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aah i thought of a req!!!!! could i maybe request one shots or hcs (separate) w dream, sapnap, n wilbur with a s/o (preferred he/him!!) who draws a whole lot,, n one day they catch him drawing him?? tysm :]
@ghcstbnr asked
gn i just realized i made a typo i meant cc catching reader drawing them- but ty again :)
of course! it's kind of long, sorry about that
I took a little creative liberty with the notion of "catching you drawing." also Sapnap's looks kind of long but it's also dialogue heavy. if you want me to redo it, I will. hope you like it đ
& a note to everyone else, I don't write for Wilbur yet! I only write for the dream team at this time. sorry about that! this will probably change in the future, though, so look out đ
CW: swearing
format: one-shot
people: dreamwastaken, Sapnap
pronouns: dreamwastaken's piece is ambiguous, Sapnap's piece uses he/him
edited 27 April 2021
â
dreamwastaken
since he doesn't use his camera, you find yourself with your boyfriend in the studio more often than not. when he's gaming casually, you play together, or one of you will cheer the other one on. when he's streaming, sometimes you interact with the viewers, or read donations for him; sometimes you just sit next to him, soaking up his energy and warmth. when he's working long days and long nights to edit videos, you're content with just relaxing together in the same space. at times you have to drag him out to the kitchen to eat, or help him to bed if he passes out, butâŚhe's really cute when he's focused. (and you're starting to think he does it on purpose just so you can dote on him.)
today is a little different. he's recording for a manhunt that's meant to drop in a couple days. you're quiet, trying to avoid disrupting them. you're perched up on the loveseat, staring fondly at him across the room. he's so animated, the way his eyes shine when he talks to his friends, how he tears up when he laughsâŚ
Patches mews at you from the arm of the couch, as if to say, disapprovingly, I cannot believe how sickeningly sweet your inner monologue is.
and you try to understand where she's coming from, you really do, but the sun's starting to set, and the gentle rays slotting through the blinds are shifting from white to gold.
he looks so divine, you decide. it's unfair. how could I not love him? he's seriously pretty. and before you can stop yourself, you're sketching him out on your tablet. you glance up at him fast to get the details right, and look away just as quickly. he never meets your eyes. soon your whole page is covered in little Clays, capturing the way he feels, the way he acts, the way you feel about him. Patches jumps off the chair, with all the moving. and before you know it, you've drawn up a whole page of concept art of your unfairly beautiful boyfriend. Patches was right about me, you muse to yourself.
fuck. Patches. the same Patches who's been meowing at you for the better part of an hour, now sitting patiently at the door? there's no way Clay didn't pick up on all that noise, you fret. but he's still playing, looking intense as ever. relief washes over you, replacing the guilt.
come here, girl, you think to yourself, knowing Patches wouldn't have even understood you if you spoke. sorry to keep you waiting. and you rise, slipping quietly out the door with his cat in your train.
â
you're coming back to the studio. Patches, fed and sated, is napping in another room. opening the door, you have to stop yourself, you freeze. your boyfriend's kneeling on the ground, sitting on his heels, right next to the doorâyou'd have hit him if it opened any further.
"baby, what are youâŚ" the words die on your tongue.
my book. my sketchbook. my sketchbook full of drawings of him. shit, he's gonna think I'm such a simp! the embarrassment, the shame, the fear, it's overwhelming you.
you hear your voice break. "âŚwhat happened to recordingâŚ?"
"finished half an hour ago," he says simply.
and that was that. for the first time in ages, the silence hanging between you was thick and heavy with tension. you wait. and wait. and wait. you wait for the criticism, the hate, the argument that never comes.
suddenly, he seems content with what he's seen, when he looks up at you adoringly, and takes one of your hands, giving it a soft squeeze. "is thatâŚme?"
you've lost your voice, all you can do is nod.
"youâŚyou think I'm beautiful?" he glows.
ah, I suppose I did write that, somewhere in there. you look away. all the things I've saidâŚ
he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves kisses on your knuckles.
you sound small. "do I not tell you that enough?" you pause. "that you're beautiful? that I love you?"
and just like that, his nervousness dissolves into euphoria. you both start laughing at the same time.
"oh my godâ" he wheezes. "âyou're so sappy."
"only for you," you blurt out, and start laughing harder. but he quiets, he hesitates.
"only for me," he repeats.
you sink down onto the floor next to him. he's staring so fondly at you, you can't help but smile back.
"only for you," you affirm.
he rests his hands on your knees, pulling himself closer to you. he's so close to you, you can feel his blush. you let your eyes close, softly.
but the kiss never comes. instead, you're met with a "then what about all those drawings of Patches?"
laying on the floor, tangled up in each other, in hysterics, you distantly think I hope he remembered to leave the call from recording earlier.
â
over dinner, you meet his gaze, and he gives you that look. that stupid, handsome look; the one with the smile and the danger behind his eyes. he makes a point of pausing mid-bite, but it takes you a minute to notice that he's stopped eating.
"what's up, honey?" you ask, sounding a little more concerned than you should have been.
he shrugs dramatically. "oh, nothingâŚjust figured you'd appreciate a muse." there it was. the teasing. you knew it would happen eventually. but the tone, it's kind, it's tempting; gentle, unlike a serious jab.
so all you do is roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your mouth quirks into a smile. "you're so dumb," you murmur with affection, and shake your head at nothing in particular.
Patches curls her tail around your ankle as she passes you by.
â
on the couch hours later for movie night, you're the last one up. Patches is curled up in Clay's lap, purring. Clay, in turn, sleeps soundly in your lap. (you think if he could purr, he would, but he settles for humming softly when you play with his hair.) you might think it's funny looking back on it later, but it feels so tender and vulnerable now. you like calm evenings like this one. Studio Ghibli plays quietly on the flatscreen; you don't know which one, you're not really paying attention anymore.
you're busy tracing the contours of Clay's skin, feeling more than seeing his shape in the dark room. mapping him out in your mind, learning his figure like you're seeing him for the first time again. you think you understand him a little bit better, every day you spend together. and with confidence, you make your first stroke, illuminated by the moon.
â
Sapnap
you only barely stop yourself from drawing a big "X" across your paper. exhale, and start erasing furiously. don't rip the paperâwell, we didn't need that sheet anyway. ball it up and throw it at the dark, cobwebbed corner of the room. along with the rest of your mistakes.
you're trying. you're really trying. but those lips. his fucking lips. fuck.
your boyfriend smiles at the camera as he gets a donation with a sweet message on it. it should be so easy. he's right there. right here.
you check the time. it's been an hour. you've been trying, and miserably failing, to get his lips right for an entire hour. today, at least. you scoff at yourself, your misery, and pinch the bridge of your nose. it isn't fair.
his camera's on, and he's live, so you know you can't be in there with him. nobody knows you're together, and you don't want know what kind of backlash to expect if people found out. so you've been avoiding his streamsâŚthe whole room where he streams, really.
you've kept yourself busy by drawing. and you've cycled through many subjects in your life, and eventually, been able to draw whatever you put your mind to with enough time and effort. the problem is, your sights have been set on Sapnap, even for months before you got together. okay, maybe that isn't the problem. the actual problem is that you fucking suck at drawing him.
you get going, start it out, do an okay job, but midway through screw it all up somehow. to make things worse, your reference is his 2D image. he doesn'tâŚknow that you draw him. you're terrified to say. so you can't use the real life Sapnap as a reference, like you would prefer.
ugh, and this one's ruined too. you rip it up and throw it at your growing pile of paper balls, but being tiny confetti-sized pieces of paper, they don't make it very far. great, something else to clean up later, you huff at your own thoughts. it isn't fair.
â
"[name]?" he calls for you. you're one step ahead, already opening the door. you can't remember when you got here and decided to brood outside his room.
"hey, do you think you canâ" he tears his eyes from his camera, his waiting audience, to look up at you expectantly. when he sees you he stops immediately, looking concerned, standing to meet you.
"what is it?" your voice is flat.
out of view of the camera, he mouths, are you okay? you only shrug and avert your eyes.
he falters, contemplates, sits back down at his desk and starts to talk to his viewers. "hey guys, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I gotta cut this stream short. myâŚ" he glances at you for approval, only to see you motioning with your hands as if to say, no, don't.
(you yourself don't really know what for. no, don't end the stream for me? no, don't out us like this?)
he looks back. "âŚmy friendâŚsomething came up with my friend. I have to take care of it. it's really important." you can tell he has trouble finding the right words. you can tell it throws him off, he's acting out of character for his internet personality. do you blame him? isn't this your fault? "sorry again. bye guys!"
the second he made the last click, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. it's unexpected, it knocks the wind out of you. you're certain he feels the tension.
"babeâŚwhat's wrong?" it's muffled by your neck and the sweater you're wearing. you just hold him, saying nothing.
he pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. "look at me. what's wrong?"
you feel all the more embarrassed. it's so silly to be upset about. "IâŚIâŚwell, it's a lot."
he shakes his head, to say I'm not going anywhere, but his expression softens, his grip loosens. "do you want to talk about it?"
you sigh. "it started as 'I can't draw for shit', then it became 'why am I afraid of asking you for help?', and finally, worst of all, 'why the fuck can't we be seen together?' it isn't fair. it's never been fair. I'm sorry."
he thinks about it for a second. "okay, what makes you feel like we can't be seen together?"
"are you joking?" you snap. "we're two fucking boyfriends. in this society." he didn't look hurt by the outburst, but the guilt crept in anyway. "âŚI'm sorry."
he shakes his head, "do you really think I'd let that happen? I wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, darling. remember that."
"I know, I knowâŚ" you don't know what to say. "it's easy to forget, I guess."
"what are you afraid to ask me for help about?"
"IâŚ" shit, you guess you have to tell him. close your eyes, breathe, "I've been drawing you. trying to draw you. but I can't, it never turns out right."
you peek, and he's red in the face, stuttering. "me? you draw me? of all the hot people out there?"
you furrow your eyebrows at him. "don't give me that shit. you know you're cute."
he shakes his head incredulously. "are we talking about the same person here?"
"dude, your smile is literally the most radiant fucking force of nature I have ever seen."
"you're hot too! why are you coming after me?"
"I'm not 'coming after you', you're being defensive about your looks, when you shouldn't be! you're gorgeous, baby."
you're both giggling like girls at a sleepover, the anger and frustration long forgotten. now it's a war of who can be more grossly in-love with the other.
"what part of me," he manages between laughs. "are you having trouble drawing?"
"oh god," you groan, remembering yourself and your dilemma. "your lips."
"my fucking lips? you would think thatâ"
"no," you warn. "shut up. don't say it. don't you dare say it."
he leans in close, his hands have moved up to cup your face. you shiver.
"don't worry," he grins. "I won't."
the kiss is long and sweet, nothing like the ones you've shared in the past. he takes his time, you savor each other. you feel time stop ticking, you feel your heart stop beating, you feel the way he tilts his head. you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in. and when you part, you're breathing heavy, in tandem.
"thanks," you manage. "but I needed to see your lips, not kiss you into next saturday."
"nah," he laughs. "I think you needed that too."
you choose your words thoughtfully. "do you need me, too?"
he hums, andâ
ding!
dreamwastaken donated $69!
:)
you could die. you could really, seriously die.
the response is instant. you don't even see Sapnap move from you to the PC, flushed down to his neck, apologizing, apologizing, and apologizing again. "change of plans, guys, we're doing an art stream!"
the chat is filled with "huh?"s and "what?"s.
"huh? what?" you didn't have the time to process what just happened.
karljacobs: I thought we were doing a make-out-with-our-secret-boyfriends stream :(
he smiled warmly at you. "yeah. my lovely boyfriend is going to draw me! he's been wanting to for a really long time, and his art is really good. let's go get your stuff."
you're in so much shock that he makes it past you and out of the room, while you stand there waiting. after a pause much longer than you intended, you hurry after him.
â
down the hall, in your room, he's got your sketchbook tucked under his arm, closed. you're sure you left it open when you came out.
you only barely get the words out. "um, did youâŚgo through it? please don't laugh."
your heart sinks when he laughs heartily, but he grabs your hand, resting it on your book, about to hand it off. but he holds you there for a second. "of course not. I respect your privacy." he ponders for a moment. "I respect you."
you can feel the sigh of relief when you let it out. "IâŚlove you."
your holding your book now, as he moves to collect the boxes containing your pens and pencils and colors. he gets them all together, but before he picks them up to head back, he turns around to face you. "is this too much?"
you absently reach for a hand, tracing over the lines on his palms. and you think about it. am I okay? is this too much?
"I don't think so. not with you. I'm okay."
he moves to open the door and grab the rest of your things. "well then, let's not keep them waiting!"
â
edited 27 April 2021
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As Family Does - SWR
In snippets, Hera experiences the ups and downs of motherhood, and all the wonderful relationships her son has with family near and so very far away.
WORD COUNT: 2206
XXX
Kanan
A sharp, desperate cry, and Heraâs world changed forever.
Jacen Syndulla was a testament to his parentsâ strength long before he came into the world. He emerged bloodied, during battle and war, but the galaxy suddenly recentered itself around this tiny, helpless being.
Hera should have been used to this kind of change by now- in less than a year, her whole life had been broken and reformed in more ways than she could count.
And yet- so much of it was good, Hera thought, as the squirming baby was placed on her chest. This love she felt was so familiar, after carrying her son for 9 months, after loving his father, after being family and foster mother to Ezra and Sabine. She felt it in every cell of her body, so much that it was hard to breathe.
âYou did it, Hera,â Zeb said, sounding rather choked up. Hera nodded, numb to the rest of the galaxy, save for her child in her arms, and realized that there were hot tears on her face. She sobbed, her whole body convulsing, and that hurt, but she didnât care. Sheâd faced greater pain and been awarded less joy at the end of it all.
The baby wailed again, and Hera gasped- the boyâs eyes had flown open, revealing a clear, vibrant blue. His skin was tinted green and his features were already sharp, sure hallmarks of his motherâs identity but his eyes- they were Kananâs eyes.
She never thought sheâd see them again, and she sobbed harder. Even with the hormone changes that came with pregnancy, it had been a long time since Hera had cried this much. She felt Zebâs hand on her shoulder and the love in the air. She cried tears of happiness, as new parents do, and tears of sorrow because Kanan wasnât there to meet his son, nor Ezra to meet his baby brother.
But still- she knew Kanan loved her and he loved their son. She knew Ezra would too, when he came home. Their love was still with her, even if they were not.
That would be enough for now. Hera had her son and her belovedâs eyes, and the love needed to carry her through this and darker days.
Chopper
Hera knew- despite her avoidance of the fact- that Jacen couldnât stay with her forever. She wasnât the only one in the Rebellion with a young child, but she was the only general with a newborn. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a safe place for her son, and she would find it. But for now, she kept him the best she could, even if it would only be for the first months of his life.
The fear and the exhaustion of war were heightened by bringing an infant into it. They threatened Hera in her lowest moments, but then there was Zeb, putting Jacen back to sleep in the middle of the night before she could get out of bed, or Kallus quietly filling out her rising piles of paperwork when she was too busy or too tired to do it herself.
It was okay- a new challenge, a new routine, and an ever-constant show of their resilience. She witnessed love and community in all parts of her life, from her kid pilots offering to babysit, to the Organas sharing some old baby toys and clothes. Even the most unlikely of figures rallied around her, and for that, Hera was grateful. Sometimes, she would even have time to herself.
One of these calm afternoons was spent completing mission reports while Jacen slept, which Hera boldly presumed would last long enough for her to catch up on everything she had to do. As soon as she dared to hope this, however, a mechanical whirr indicated the presence of Chopper- and serenity rarely, if ever, followed him.
Where is the new one? He asked, disregarding the fact that Hera was very clearly busy.
âThe new one- you mean Jacen?â
Heâs new. Her droid was very matter-of-fact about this statement.
âHeâs a baby, Chop,â Hera amended, and the astromech beside her warbled in disagreement.
He has not been around very long. He has not done many things either. Therefore, he is new.
âWhatever you say.â
Chopper didnât humor her further, only groaned in complaint, and waited for a response. Hera rolled her eyes, but obliged. âHeâs down for his afternoon nap. Same as yesterday. Why?â
She received no reply, other than a broken lament that the little one took too long to recharge, then her oldest companion rolled off and out of sight. Hera sighed and turned back to her work.
Later, Hera glanced at the chrono and readied herself for her sonâs cries, but the Ghost remained silent and lonely. She crept down the room towards the pilotâs quarters, the door still open so that she might reach Jacen faster. Perhaps she would find him still asleep, and she could clean or shower with the extra few minutes to herself.
She instead discovered her baby wriggling happy on his cot, Chopper looming over him. One of his mechanical arms was extended, dangling Jacenâs favorite tooka in front of him. Chopper made gentle sounds, and Jacen grinned up at him.
So Chopper had a heart, beyond the occasional moment of mercy. Hera hid her mouth with her hand, ignoring the wetness in her eyes, and watched the scene from the doorway.
Zeb
It might not have been fair to blame a baby for picking favorites before he could talk, but Hera still shook her head as Zeb passed back Jacen, who wailed the second he left the Lasatâs arms. Zeb chuckled at the reaction, scratching at the back of his neck, but shrunk instantly at Heraâs glare
âAw, comâon,â Zeb tried while Jacen furiously kicked against Hera. âHe doesnât mean anything by it. Nobody holds a candle to ya, Hera.â He finished the statement rather ungracefully, as Hera relinquished Jacen, plopping him back in Zebâs arms. As soon as she did, Jacen giggled, clutching at Zebâs fur and gurgling happily, his woes entirely forgotten.
âYouâd think heâd be a little more grateful to the one who feeds him,â Hera said dryly, regarding Jacen with her hands on her hips. Zeb shrugged, looking vaguely sheepish.
âIâm just softer than ya, thatâs all,â Zeb assured her, snuggling Jacen against his chest. When Hera raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed in surprise.
âLasat kits like to sleep on their parents,â he explained, âbut some of us like to say that they prefer the Lasat with the longest and softest fur.â
âWell, you certainly have me beat there,â Hera conceded, and Zem hummed in agreement, rocking Jacen in his arms. He babbled cheerfully, and Zeb laughed again. âMaybe nobody holds a candle to Uncle Zeb, either,â she said, her tone hushed, and Zeb froze. âWeâre both lucky to have you.â
Zeb didnât say anything for a long moment, then he shifted Jacen to one side and slung his free arm around Heraâs shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, and Zeb pulled her closer.
âWeâre family,â he said gruffly, his voice suspiciously thick. âOf course Iâll take care of you both.â
The admonition sent warmth flooding through Heraâs chest, and she sniffed. That was what sheâd count on through it all- her family and their love, unfaltering.
Sabine
Each of Jacenâs milestones- his first smile and wave and babble of a word- came with the reminder that Kanan wasnât there to witness them too. Her son had just started to lift his own head when the anniversary of his fatherâs death passed, and Hera realized with grief weighing on her heart that even the idea of Kanan would be unfamiliar to Jacen for the first years of his life.
Her sorrow at the fact that âDadaâ wouldnât be among Jacenâs collection of first words (which included âMama,â âship,â âno!â and âChopâ) was expressed to Sabine during an exhausted and teary conversation. Together, they concluded that Kanan would have made a great dad, if he didnât collapse from the stress while doing it, and the two women held each other until the talk turned back to recollecting fond memories at laughter at what once was.
In one of the biggest shocks of Heraâs life, the grief became lighter and easier to carry. She knew it would never leave her, but at least she didnât bear it alone.
When Jacen turned one, she declared it a happy occasion and resolved not to spend too long dwelling on those not present to celebrate with them. There were still wistful smiles and comforting hugs, but as luck would have it, she had Zeb, Alexsandr, Rex, and Sabine all with her to mark the occasion, and that was a happy blessing on its own.
Jacen destroyed the small cake Alexsandr had made for him with pudgy fists, smearing it all over his face and onesie. Hera laughed, trying not to think of the possibility of finding uneaten food in Jacenâs diaper again, and their small family celebrated, and it was good.
They exchanged presents before everyone had to return to their respective duties. Mother and son received a collection of toys and bigger clothes, and Hera was even gifted a nice bottle of wine for her to enjoy after surviving a year of motherhood.
At the end, when it was just her and Sabine sweeping crumbs off the floor of the galley, the young Mandalorian presented her a final gift. An intricately bound book, made from sketch flimsi and filled with page after page of illustrations. It told a story, in few words and in brilliant, dynamic colors, of a Jedi, a hero, on quests to make the galaxy a better place. The Jedi wielded a blue lightsaber, and although he could be grumpy, he was deeply loyal to his friends, and he always came in to save the day. His face was unmistakable, his demeanor kind and familiar.
âSo Jacen can know his dad,â Sabine said, and her voice was carefully measured. âI never thought Iâd illustrate a kidâs book.â
Hera had no words, so she threw her arms around Sabine instead, murmuring her thanks through her tears. Sabine accepted the hug, squeezing Hera just as tight, and they stayed that way for a long while.
Ezra
Jacen grew and grew until he no longer fit in her arms- or rather, he wiggled out of them every time Hera tried to pick him up. He started to beg to learn how to fly as the war drew to a close but it wasnât until after the Battle of Endor that Hera felt the skies were safe enough for her son.
Sabine teased her that Jacen inherited his recklessness from both sides of the family. Hera couldnât bring herself to disagree, but she looked around at her friends and family- Mandalorians and Lasats and spies and galactic heroes- and thought that her childâs thrill-seeking tendencies came more from his company rather than his blood.
The conclusion of the war didnât mean the end of the fighting, but peace was at last on the horizon and her fellow rebels begun planning their lives in this new, free galaxy. Hera could be a mother full-time now, and not have to worry if each goodbye to her son would be her last.
She thought that this would mean fulfillment- and in many ways, it did. The galaxy was entering a new age, but there were too many things left behind for Hera to move on completely. Much of it, she would never get back- but for some, there remained hope of rescue.
She saw so much of Ezra in Jacen. His energy, for one, and his innocence. His optimism, too- Jacen was a happy baby and nothing short of an ebullient child. Hera and Kallus liked to joke that his smile could light up the galaxy. It was impossible, when gazing into Jacenâs blue eyes, not to see the hope and love of another boy who once looked to her as a mother. They had so much in common, these children of war, but their biggest similarity was those who loved them.
Sabine was the first one to teach her the bittersweet pride of a child leaving the nest, and she came to Hera again to tell her that she must go. Hera had fear and love and faith for her, but little surprise when Sabine promised to bring Ezra home. With a blessing and a plea to stay safe, she hugged Sabine tight and watched her set off into the galaxy again.
When evening fell, and Hera was alone again, Jacen approached his mother and snuggled into her arms. As much as she tried to protect her son, he always seemed to know when she was sad.
Hera didnât think that sheâd ever be complete without Kanan, without Ezra, without everyone sheâd lost in a lifetime at war. But she was not alone, she knew- she had her son in her embrace and a family in every corner of the galaxy. That, for now, was enough, and she had hope that she would see them all again one day.
#hera syndulla#kanera#jacen syndulla#star wars rebels#swr#sw rebels#swr fanfic#kanera fanfic#sw rebels fanfic#star wars#star wars fanfic#sabine wren#zeb orrelios#rebels#rebels fanfic#star wars fanfiction#hera syndulla fanfic#fluff
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Dual Summoner x the darkling pt. 6
After dinner, I returned to my room where it was in the tidemaker hall. Walking into the room I picked up a sketchbook that Baghra had given me and picked up the pen. I sat on the bed feeling restless and started to sketch in it. I was used to this as I had done this when I needed something to relax before bed. I had always sketched the same thing as a stag and knew the tales of Morozovas stag and how sun summoners were perfect for it.
I could never kill an animal, not even for its power...not unless I had to. I thought
I was unsure why I had this connection to it but I had seen a similar sketch in my childhood home. My father had drawn the stag and looked at it but he refused to go searching for it. I didn't really care but found it comforting when I drew it. After that, I decided to free sketch on the next page figuring there was no harm in not having a drawing in mind to just relax. I started to notice it was getting dark as I stopped and touched my freehand with the hand that sketched to form a small amount of light as I continued. Watching the image form I didn't give it a lot of details until I finished seeing it was a sketch of general Kirigan.
What is with me today? I thought
I put the pencil up and closed the sketchbook as I got up from the room to look out the window. I knew if I had to go after the stag someday I would need to get free and I had Baghra on my side. I remember her saying that someone was looking for it but I knew enough was going on as I threw the light up and it surrounded me in warmth one last time before fading and then I went to bed. I figured a good night's rest would be best for now.
The next morning I went to eat with everyone for breakfast after I was ready to join them, the meal was the normal breakfast. I liked that but the tension in the room didn't stop no matter what. Baghra's words about every summoner wanting to be the general's pet came to mind and I knew I was not one of those summoners. I worked hard for everything I did here in the little palace.
"Amira, did you sleep well?" Nadia asked
"I did, I did some sketching before bed." I said
"that animal again?" Marie asked knowing she couldn't say stag
"yeah, I guess I got my father's artistic talent." I said
"I heard we're allowed to choose between training today and free time. Show me." Nadia said
"We can do a bit of both. I need to go see Baghra later." I said
Nadia nodded as we started to head out after breakfast, most of the tidemakers walked away from us. We went to my room instead of immediately heading out to the training grounds and went into my room. It was always kept neat and in place cause I hardly did much with it since getting the room. I grabbed my sketchbook and let her see. Nadia seemed to be looking through the book to see my sketches. Mostly of the stag that I would see sometimes when I sleep but then she stopped on the last one and showed it to me.
"Your talent is showing, it looks just like the general." She teased "If I didn't know any better I'd think you had a crush."
"I can assure you I do not." I said as I took the sketchbook from her and put it away. "Now come on, I have to meet with Baghra."
Nadia smiled as we went walking out to the training grounds. I saw glares at me and I didn't care at the moment. I headed for Baghra's training quarters and Nadia went to work with other tidemakers as I knew today I was focused. I needed to get this out of my head but when I came to her door I saw a note as I took it.
Amira, meet me at your private training area. We're doing something different and for the sake of your powers, this will be best. - Baghra
What does she have in mind? I asked
I went to the training area I had for myself as I walked the path knowing that this was going to be different from my normal sessions with her. When walking my thoughts went through my head knowing this wasn't like her. As I made it to the clearing I saw my parents standing there with Baghra. I stood there in shock and realized why we had to come here now as Baghra was supposed to inform the general when people came into the little palace.
"Your training again with your parents today." Baghra said
"But they sent me here to train with you." I said
"I'm not a sun summoner girl, I can't train you on techniques you have the potential to do." Baghra said, "Your father can. General Kirigan should be busy today as usual and I heard you did well."
Before I could say anything Baghra had walked off and for a minute we all caught up on things. It'd been nine years since I came to the little palace and I missed them so much. I wanted to hug them and never let go. I wanted to go home more than anything in the world.
"Has he seen you yet?" Father asked
"Yeah, papa he has." I said, "I was chosen to go on the tidemaker mission with the other tidemakers."
I went into details on what happened with the mission and what transpired how he'd amplified my power yesterday. Since I only used the tidemaker power in front of everyone except Baghra and my friends. I knew there was no way to avoid that I'd let someone in beside Baghra.
"I told my friends the truth and they've kept my secret." I said
"Do you trust them?" Father asked
"I do, they have had my back since I got here. I want to leave this place but I have no choice but to stay." I said
Father and mother knew that it was true what I said as I didn't have a choice in staying here. Baghra was my teacher and I was grateful for her lessons. I didn't want to be the reason for hope for people when I am not one summoner. I knew that was harsh but I knew being here the more I felt drawn to the shadows.
My parents didn't really ask much more before they started to do training with me. My mother had been harsher with me than she was when I was a child. I realized she was holding back when I was a child. I got back up and I didn't hold back with her either as we trained together. Still she put me through a ringer to keep up with her.
"Good Job Amira." Mother said
"I work hard, I won't give up." I said
"Next lesson." Father said
I prepared for my father as he did his own kind of training with the light. I struggled with his techniques of light. They were so much more advanced than I was but I got it a little bit. I didn't give up until I semi mastered them so I could keep practicing and when that was done I sat down breathing a bit harder as I laid back.
"You two are so unfair." I said jokingly
"Hard work and practice pays off." they said together
I closed my eyes letting myself feel vulnerable with them around. I laughed a bit knowing that it wasn't everyday I got my butt handed to me by my own parents. they were so much stronger than I was but I would one day surpass them. Maybe they were right that hard work and practice paid off. Maybe I could take down the fold someday and end the search for sun summoners.
I heard them talking to themselves as I laid there with my eyes closed. The sun on my face and the feeling of responsibility not present. I subconsciously touched the part of my cheek the general's fingers had lightly touched as I opened my eyes looking up at the sky.
I shouldn't be able to feel his shadows yet I can...I really wonder if he could feel the sun hiding. I thought
While in my thoughts I sat up quickly feeling that same feeling of shadows close by. I looked around knowing he did know where I trained and my father's secret could be at risk. Yet I didn't see anyone's insight when it came to the surrounding area. I figured maybe I was just paranoid or maybe...maybe he is watching.
would he try to make father join the 2nd army if he knew? Father would resist but his interest in me would possibly do more harm than good at the moment. I thought
Aleksander Morozova's pov:
Walking out there I noticed all tidemakers but Amira were present. I wanted to check and see if she was still needing to heal or if she was ok. Something about this tidemaker bothered me like there was something she was hiding. I walked that path she walked when she trained alone.
Coming into sight I saw her talking with her parents who I had no idea where in the palace. Mother must have brought them here and I could see she missed them dearly as they hugged and talked. I watched a bit seeing her mother not letting up on her own daughter.
Amara is as tough as my mother is on her own child. I thought
As I watched I was about to leave when I saw something that caught my attention. Amira and her father were sun summoners and Amira was a dual summoner. I thought about the Grisha text knowing there was no talk of a dual summoner when it came to Grisha. She was the first of her kind but like the mother, her father didn't let up either.
I saw her lay relaxed after her training with her parents and decided to stay and watch. I saw her touch her cheek where I had touched to see how badly she was injured. I knew something was different about her but I could not place my finger on it. Still, I saw her suddenly sit up to look around as I started to back up.
soon I'll have her in my grasp..the dual summoner. I thought
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The Artist and Her Deadly Muse
One Shot Mini Series: Natasha Romanoff x Fisk Reader.Â
Word Count: 3000 approxÂ
A/n: I have WIP for Wanda and reader its taking more time than I thought, but for now this. I kind of got little carried away with this I hope you guys like it. There will be a second part. See you soon!Â
Part 2
New York, your home⌠Your safe haven. You're sitting on the subway when you see her. Youâve always liked New York for this very reason there are people everywhere. Your hands are fidgeting, anxious to begin their work. There is just something about her the way she handles herself, how her head is steady on her shoulders, no apparent worry crossing her mind. Your hand begins to move on the paper making her rough outline. Your eyes shift between her and your book for a couple of stops.Â
Stepping out of the subway and taking that first breath of fresh air⌠It was just like the first time. There was something about walking through masses of people every day, knowing that you will pass them again and again, and they won't even notice. However, you do notice and you pride yourself in that. Three years living in this marvelous city and it has not ceased to amaze you. You have New York down to a âTâ. That's not to say that it was all good, you were detail oriented almost to a pathological degree. Which is why you noticed her and her marvelous red hair. Also the small fact that she was definitely following you.Â
You weave through crowds, take unexpected turns, yet still you see her keeping her distance. It was almost funny how she's not noticed that you were leading her on a wild goose chase. You duck into your favorite sandwich shop, and take a seat. You can't help, but feel a little disappointed at the fact that she didn't bother to follow you in. You take your time, catching your breath. When you feel safe you decide to walk out the back door. Suddenly youâre being pinned against a wall, by a very familiar redhead.Â
âI usually don't do this before the third date.â You quip a smirk on your face. âAlthough looking at you now, I might make an exception.â She doesn't seem to like your compliments as she snatched your satchel. âWho do you work for?â she asked impatiently, pressing you harder against the wall. âIâd have to ask you the same question, because I swear if my father sent youâŚâ The confusion written on her face makes you stop your rant. âAnd you donât work for my⌠fatherâ You emphasize the last part. Regretting having opened your mouth. Â
You clear your throat and shift your view to her hold on your arms raising your brow. She lets go a little embarrassed. âSo⌠What's up with the staring?â She asks confused. âWell, It's simple really. You stick out like a sore thumb.â You say chuckling at the slightly offended look she flashes you with. You take your satchel back and look through it to make sure everything is good. âCare to explain?â she asked with an amused look in her eyes. You narrow your eyes and she continues. âYour sore thumb statement⌠What's your evidence.â You shift off the wall, and clean yourself off. âWell, to your credit most people don't pay attention⌠but Iâm not most people.âÂ
You take your sketchbook out of your satchel and flip to her page showing it to her. âIâve never seen you around⌠If I had Iâd remember.â You say walking away, and her smile makes your stomach flip. Natasha made her way back to the compound where the team was waiting for her. âWhat took you so long?â Asked Tony as soon as he saw her walk through the elevator doors. âI took the Subwayâ Is all she says too preoccupied to notice Tony grimace and the sheer look of disgust in his face. She hears him mutter something about disinfecting everything she touches⌠She's not completely listening, still thinking about you. Â
âNow where have you gone off to Romanoff.â Tony asks teasingly as he waves his hand in her face, which she promptly swats away. âI met an interesting character on the Subway.â She states, still faraway. Tony hums. âIâm sure you did, youâll always find some interesting characters on the subways.â She shakes her head and agrees. It had been mere hours after meeting you and she could tell she was hooked. The next day she went to the same subway in hopes of finding you but no such luck. She didn't give up though she showed up every day for weeks... She was on the verge of giving up when she saw you. Getting off an armored black car your head bowed as you made your way to an apartment building nearby. For someone you had clocked her⌠you were incredibly off your game. You didn't even turn when she walked into the building after you.
âLet me guess youâre about to ask me to paint you like one of my French girls.â You say not bothering to look back a smirk on your face as you turn to face that redhead. You chuckle at her baffled face as you turn around. âWill you paint me like one of your French girls?â She asks, itâs her turn to bask in your reaction. Your laugh fills the room making her laugh with you. âWeâve really got to stop meeting like this⌠I don't even know your nameâ You point out making her clear her throat just as she's about to say her name you interrupt her. âLet me guess⌠Patricia?â She shakes her head in denial stifling a laugh. âNatalie Rushmanâ You nod. âYeah that was going to be my next guess.â You play it off making her laugh. âMy name is Y/n Fisk it's nice to officially meet you Natalie.â You say as you give her your hand to shake. âWould you like to come upstairs.â You ask politely and she hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You make your way up to your apartment which is a complete understatement. âWell you seem awfully humble for this place.â She states.Â
âAnd for that matter itâs twice now that youâve clocked me how?â You sigh putting your keys down on the table. âYes, well my father always had a way of showing me he cared.â She nods intrigued. âMy turn⌠Why were you looking for me?â You were direct and firm, yet not confrontational. âWell you made an impression Y/n.â You hum pouring her and yourself a glass of wine. You take the first sip and she follows shortly after. âI wanted to see how that sketch turned out Y/n⌠you know because you used my likeness and all. Want to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands.â She says smirking, but there's a seriousness in her voice. And you nod. âWell you'd be relieved to know that the artist is out of commission till further notice.âÂ
This takes Natalie by surprise, you see it in her eyes she wants to ask why but can't bring herself to actually do it so you tell her. âAnother gift from my father⌠the family company. That is currently on the brink of financial devastation.â You say as you finish off the rest of your wine in one gulp, pouring yourself another glass you offer Natalie one as well. âSo no more art and sitting on the subway for hours on end.â You chuckle humorlessly. âWhen you put it like thatâŚâ You try to make light of the situation, but fail. âNo more art⌠No more sitting on the subway for hours on end⌠No more doing what I love.â Your thoughts racing, almost forgetting you're in a room with an otherwise complete stranger. You clear your throat stopping your train of thought and continue. âThis is actually my last night here, I'm moving.â You lift your gaze to meet hers and itâs consuming. The way that her eyes are looking at yours, how she can see right through you. She starts moving closer to you and you let out a deep breath.Â
When you don't step away or break eye contact she continues making her way towards you. Her hands move to your face, and she slowly closes in interlocking your lips. You deepen the kiss holding on to her hips and moving her closer to you. Your hands brush the hem of her shirt. She bites your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it. A fight for dominance ensues, you almost give in but she beat you to it letting you take control. Your night goes by in her arms exploring her skin, etching every detail in your mind, remembering every spot that makes her knees go weak. When you wake up your bed is empty, and you want to be disappointed but you can't. You can't drag someone into the shit show that is your family. So true to your word you were gone by lunchtime.Â
It had been months and it just kept getting worse. You found out why the financial situation had become so dire. Your father all but drained the company of all its funds⌠You always knew that your father was a questionable man but this was low even for him. Disparaging your mothers name your name. You learned not to be offended though he trusted you enough to get out of this mess. Your mother brought out the best in him, but in the end the worst ended up prevailing. You worked, and worked threw yourself into the obligation that was tossed your way. âMiss Fisk you have Forbes on the line and Pepper Potts on another.â You nod. It had been a year and a half and you thrived. You haven't heard from your father in all that time. You had Manhattan wrapped around your finger, and everyone knew it, like your father you were ruthless to those you betrayed you, Once someone was burned by you no one dared talk about them, much less in your precedence. Â
You look and wonder where that bright eyed hopeful person you were went. Then you remember all the people you put your trust in and all the people that tried to kick you when you were down. Forbes was something that represented the end of you, whatever was left of that person you were not too long ago. âY/n Fisk, to what do I owe the pleasure Ms. Potts?â You were surprised when she called. You thought Stark Industries would want to stay away from a name like yours. âNo, need for the formalities Y/n. Iâm exploring a business venture that might help us both out.â She goes on to explain her plan and you say youâd think about it, in turn she invites you to a Stark Function this weekend⌠âWell Pepper I look forward to meeting you and discussing this business venture further.â You put the phone down into the receiver and can't help the small smile that grows on your face. As much as you hated the obligation you couldn't deny the pride that you felt, or how you felt thinking of how proud your mother would be⌠It almost makes it all worth it.  Â
It's another one of Tony's parties that she is forced to go to, Natasha Is at the bar serving drinks when she sees you. Or someone who held an uncanny resemblance, something was different, your posture no longer relaxed, now effortlessly poised and business like. The sparkle in your eyes was the same, but everything else was fundamentally different. She witnessed Pepper walk up to you, and how your face instantly lightened. Pepper had shared a couple of words with you and took you to speak with Tony. Natasha's eyes widen slightly as she notices Pepper making her way straight to her. âHowâd I do?â She asks Natasha with a smile growing on her face. âWhat do you mean?â She asks confused. âWell, the new mission haven't you been briefed?â She shakes her head. âNo, I just got back from one abroad. What is this mission about?â She nodded understandingly. âThat's Y/n Fisk Daughter of Wilson Grant Fisk⌠Kingpin.â
Natasha's eyes widened, she can't believe she didn't put it together sooner. âSo sheâs following in her Father's footsteps?â Natasha asks carefully. Pepper continues. âWell, weâve been keeping tabs since a year and a half ago, after Fisk Industries suddenly went into the red.â Natasha quirks her head. âWilson syphoned all the money and took off. Y/n is ruthless when it comes to business, it's a miracle she saved the company.â Pepper stops and looks at Natasha's still confused face. âWhat exactly is she doing here though.â Pepper takes a moment before she answers. âWeâre recruiting her⌠using her to get to her Father.â Natasha can't help, but shake her head. âHow do you know sheâs willing to work against her father⌠They are family at the end of the day. Blood is thicker than water.â She says as she sees You and Tony walk off into a more secluded part of the compound.
After an hour maybe more she spots you again. This time the light is completely gone in your eyes. It was truly an off putting sight, no apparent emotion ran through your expressions. Your movements were cold, and calculated an opportune smile on your face when someone walked up to you. The desire to get out of there was apparent. She took her eyes off you all of two minutes, and by then you'd made it to the elevator door standing next to a rather old man, whose talking business. She watches you as you wave the older man away with a smile plastered on your face, handing him your card, and just like that youâre gone.
The drive back to Manhattan was a quiet one, full of reflection and contemplation. By the time you make it back to your Penthouse youâre ready to just go to bed. As soon as you walked in you knew something was off. âYou need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n '' It didn't even phase you, your back still turned on him you made yourself a drink and drank it. Finally turning you meet your fathers gaze. âFather, I would say it's good to see you, but that would be a lie. You know how mom felt about lying.â You were testing him and he knew it. âWhat do you want?â You reiterate and make your annoyance known. âYou need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n, It's for your own good.â You sigh rubbing your temples. âWhy would I back down from the business deal of my life? What do you know?â Heâs quiet, his eyes boring holes into yours, testing your resilience. âYou left me with the mess that was My mothers company in shambles⌠you don't get a voice in what I do with the company.âÂ
âYouâre not going to like what's going to happen if you don't back down Y/n. The boardâŚâ You laugh at his attempt at a threat. âWell, haven't you heard⌠Those usurpers paid for their wrongs. They tried to take your precious company from me.â You chuckle at his obliviousness. âI have the power here⌠So I suggest you start talking.âÂ
(4 Hours Ago)Â Â
âY/n, I see no need to continue this charade. I Don't think youâre a bad person.â This is where Tony starts off which sets the tone foe the rest of the conversation. âWell, Iâve been around long enough to know when someone wants something from me. So what does Tony Stark need from me?â You say as your eyes close in on him. âItâs not really what I need. It's more of a âare you willing toâ corporate.â He then proceeds to show you this presentation very well made if you might add. Of things you already knew about your father, but your question was, How did he know? âRight⌠So you want me as bait?â You say finally leaving with him. âWell, in a way yes. You won't be in immediate danger, your father won't hurt you.â You chuckle. âYou underestimate him.â You say. âHe left me to clean up after his mess. Hasnât checked in once, since then. Why would he now?âÂ
âLets just say word has spread about our little business venture.â He states. âSo this... you are informing me that Iâm bait.â He nods. âGreat glad you caught on⌠see we couldn't take the riskâŚâ you finish his statement. âOf me saying no.â You nod. âWhat do you need me to do exactly.â Tony then goes on a tangent on what you will need to do takes too long for you liking but you sit through it anyways. âSo you want me to push his buttons and get him to talk.â He agrees giving more specifics and more details. âRight, well call me when you need meâ You say as you stand up and walk away.
 (Current Time)Â
âAnd you did all of this, Why?â You don't even give him the chance to explain himself. âI was never under any pretense that you were a good man, but this⌠this is vile.â You could tell your words hurt him. The same words your mother had once uttered before she passed. âY/n I-i tried to keep you away from all of this.â He tries to defend himself. âOf course by throwing me right in the middle of all of it.â Push buttons you did. âI was once proud to be a Fisk, a name that commanded respect, now I am disgusted and ashamed of this name.â At this point he just kept blaring on about how he tried to fix things, how he just dug himself deeper. Final jab, at this point it wasn't necessary this one was for you. âI hate you for making me hate mom⌠every time you would promise her an out of this⌠she believed you, and I hate her for that.â you take a breath and look him dead in the eye. âBecause you never deserved her love.â
Before you could even process the hurt on his face, agents stayed bursting through every entrance. Window, doors, balcony, any entrance you could possibly think about blocked and barricaded. You step back from your father, but heâs too quick. He takes our arm and drags you in front of him, using you as a human shield.Â
#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#oneshot#marvel#marvel mcu#Avengers#The Avengers#agents of shield#natalie rushman#kingpin#wilson fisk#vanesa fisk
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Kishibe Rohan x Reader SFW + NSFW
Anon said:Â âConsider Rohan sfw and nsfw hcs? And in nsfw Rohan could be a top,,? Prrtty pleade hhh, since there is only one work of Rohan ;;â
I hope these are good, not too familiar with Rohan, so I hope you like it!
Wanna know what Iâm willing to write? Rules here!
Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!
Looking for more? Master post here!
WARNINGS: Making out, stands used in inappropriate ways, fingering, voyeurism, dildos, fucking machines, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, oral, face fucking, cock warming, nipple play, nude modelling.Â
Word Counts: 2201
SFW
Rohan is a jackass who cares. In the beginning, heâs very private and stand-offish, but he does warm up to you eventually, though heâs still nicer in private than he is in public. He claims this is because heâs a âcelebrityâ and canât have his fans see you too close together yada, yada. Itâs bullshit and you know it, but you have the feeling itâs because heâs not used to people being close to him.Â
Yes, he does have a binder dedicated to paintings, drawings, sketches, etc. all for you. Some are a little on the artistically lewd side, but most of them are of your hands holding something or your smile, your face and shoulders. Some of them he asked you to model for, others he quickly sketched down while you werenât paying attention and then finished later.
When heâs not holed up inside, he enjoys walking down to either parts of Morioh where he can people watch or down to the park where he can study wildlife (and maybe draw you playing with ducks).Â
You are literally never bored in his house. He has every book under the earth and so many loose painting supplies that he painfully lets you use to fool around. (Though letâs be honest, He likes that you take an interest in his job and would be more than happy to give you tips.)
You know what? Rohan is a backseat artist. He watches every stroke you make over your shoulder and tells you maybe you should move the hand this way to make it more natural or add some light shading here to make it dynamic. It may come off as a little pretentious at first, but if you keep with it, heâll notice the improvement and (occasionally) tell you how good youâre doing while being a total blushing mess.
  You sat in the window seat, knees up with your back against the wall. Resting on your thighs was a sketchbook. Currently, you were just idly drawing lines of shading onto a face. Rohan himself was also busy colouring in his most recent page, though every now and then he would catch himself looking up at your silhouette, lit up by the light in some kind of halo effect.
   Finally, he caved in to his curiosity. Setting down his pencils, he strode over to you. You didnât notice until his face manifested itself over your shoulder. Startled, you jumped, causing your pencil to make a long line on your artwork.Â
   âJesus, warn me next time.â You said, grabbing your eraser.
   âHave you been struggling with the nose?â He completely ignores you, still staring at your drawing. The paper was clearly marked up by the eraser with deeper marks from where the pencil was.
   âYeah, actually. Itâs either too big or too small. Kind of just gave up.â You carefully tried to erase the long line but wound up taking away parts that you were actually happy with.
   âBe more gentle with the pencil, itâll make it easier to erase.â He suggested with a monotone.
   âI tried-â
   âAnd then you got frustrated and pushed harder. I admire your persistence, however, if something isnât to your liking, walk away and come back. Remember to look at the picture as a whole, not just the nose.â You rolled your eyes, gently tossing your pencil onto the window seat. As much as you wanted to appreciate the advice, you had heard it all before. You were getting sick of it, frankly.
   Rohan took note of your agitation, studying your face carefully. âYouâve improved, though!â You looked up, a little shocked. What? âThe eyes are well done and your shading is very even. Good job.âÂ
   What? Your cheeks grew hot. That was the first bit of praise you had heard from him. About your drawing, at least. He looked down into your eyes, then felt his own face getting hot. He turned away. âGo take a break. Iâll help you when you get back in an hour. Iâll be timing you, donât be late.â
Like I have said, heâs not overly fond of affection in public (in the beginning), but he canât deny that holding your hand or feeling you on his arm makes him feel pretty good. The first few times, heâs internally a mess, though he wonât show anything other than a light tint of blush on his cheeks. But when heâs relaxing at home, he enjoys having you under his arm, leaning against him or with one of your heads in the otherâs lap. Heâs not used to people and even less so used to affection, but can be worked up to being more comfortable with stuff like kissing in front of the Morioh gang and the like.
When heâs comfortable, he is so cocky. Like, boarder line makes out with you in front of literally anyone just to prove youâre his S/O. This always makes you blush so much (unless youâre into that.) More often than not, heâll have an arm around your shoulders, hand in pocket, looking so smug and proud and cool.Â
Pet names? He can either go one of two ways, depending on his mood. Either itâs just your name or babe OR it is every teasing name under the sun. Oh, darling can you do this for me? Oh, baby, oh, honey, oh, my love, oh, my flower. Itâs usually used to get something from you or to get you to do something a little out of the box.
I can see Rohan as being the kind of person who is very strict about his bath time and hates when people interrupt him. On the rare occasion, heâll let you in with him with the promise of either massaging him or something else *wink, wink*
NSFW (Dominant specifically)
Rohan literally does not shut up during sex. Praise, degradation, mocking, you name it! As a writer and an artist, he knows how to stitch words together in a masterful way that never fails to make you hot in the face.
Uh, yeah. Heâs used Heavenâs Door on you before. Did he do it to learn your kinks? Maybe to put some kind of loose control over you in certain situations? Looking for people you find attractive for potential erm... art inspiration (voyeurism)? The world will never know.
Staying-on brand with HD, he absolutely uses it to learn everything that you enjoy in the bedroom. He knows how to make you squirm, where to push to make you scream, how to make you beg. He knows everything.
Particularly enjoys using this âpowerâ to finger you, pressing into every sweet spot (that he made more sensitive with HD), licking over the edges of your hole in a way that just makes you dumb (either hole, not picky!)
   A delicate finger was trailed up your twitching hole, making you shiver. Rohan had already stretched you open enough for it to easily slip in again. You were so sensitive from being teased over and over again, but with no relief that you cried out, tears threatening to burst forward.
   He curled his finger up into a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly pushing into it more. You groaned and whined, blabbering out his name along with various ways to beg. He shushed you carelessly, sounding annoyed by your desperation. God, you wish you could move! You would give anything to be impaled by him right now. Or anything for that matter.
   He removed the digit quickly, then promptly smacked your ass with a flat hand.
   âQuiet.â You had no choice but to listen to him, involuntarily shutting your mouth and stifling your whimpers. âIf you want something, be polite about it. Do you know how to be polite?â
   You nodded your head, a single tear trailed down your cheek. Your hole was teased again, repeating the same process as before. Rohan was such an asshole, but god if you didnât love it.
If you have established a relationship where he has complete control over everything you say or do, he will abuse it so much. Just, tells you to sit still, turns on a wand or vibrator and just tortures you to the point of tears. You can talk, he didnât take that away (mostly because he wants to hear you beg), but the position he put you in on top of the order. Itâs too much for you.Â
Heâll do the same with a dildo, a fucking machine, his own dick, does not matter! Once you give him that power, RIP to your organs.
Alright, now. Voyeurism. This man is a freak and does not try to hide it when itâs under the guise of âart.â Again, if established, he will hire random people to do whatever he wants to you. If youâre okay with it, heâll record it for later research.Â
Rohan is a weird jealous type, so he checks out every person you meet and makes sure theyâre perfect (ie. not competition and someone youâll enjoy). Very rarely does he let you pick out the people. Like I said, heâs a weird jealous type. Likes to see you with other people, but not with other people, you know?
There is only one person who he considers competition that he wants you to fuck at least once and itâs Jotaro. Are we surprised? No. Dude is built like a god and has the goods to match. Even Rohan canât deny it. He would probably want to join in as well, but Jotaro would never do anything like that.
Mmmm, punishments for being bratty? Ooooh, yes. Smack my ass like a drum! Makes you count, absolutely. If heâs in a bitchy, lazy mood heâll use a paddle or something like that, other than that, he uses his hands.Â
As youâve probably surmised, he likes having control over you in the bedroom, so itâs no surprise he also enjoys tying you up and has a particular fondness for swings where heâll hang you up and tease you until you can barely walk.Â
I mentioned baths in the SFW section, now let me elaborate. Doesnât like sex in the bath, he hates when the water gets everywhere, but loves when you worship him while scrubbing him down and will allow you to work him up with a light hand job. This usually leads to a blowjob of some kind whether itâs gentle or rough.
Speaking of! His favourite part of sex is probably oral. From sucking bruises into each otherâs necks, rough kissing, right down to holding you against the wall and choking you with his dick. Or a dildo, if he wants something a little more adventurous like mirror sex with him taking you from behind and making you watch yourself choke over and over again.
Cock warming is only ever used as punishment for being too needy, but he will keep you in his lap until youâre in tears. He is absurdly patient when it comes to sex.
   You whined, grinding yourself onto Rohanâs dick. He chuckled before letting out a theatrical sigh. Your grip on his shoulders got harder and you buried your face into his neck more.
   âWhatâs wrong, (Y/N)?â He trailed a soft, teasing hand up your thigh. âYou wanted attention, yes? Then, why are you complaining? Now, up, I need another look at my reference.â
   You sighed, tired and riled up at the same time. With new vigour, you sat up, leaning back to show your artist his latest obsession. He hummed in appreciation, taking a minute to admire his muse before licking a warm stripe up your sternum making you gasp. He stopped, giving you a look of warning.
   âDonât move.â You gave him a curt nod, trying your best to follow your command while he returned his tongue to your chest, exploring your skinâs taste. He flicked over your nipple with the tip, testing your resolve before wrapping his lips around it, sucking harshly. A moan fought its way through your throat as he became more feverous with his suckling.Â
   Rohan hummed with you, theatrically mulling over the saltiness, then switching to the next one. Satisfied with the redness around your nipples, he pulls back, looking you over once again. A lightbulb seems to go off in his head and he reaches for his sketchbook which only made his cock shift inside you, rubbing against your walls in a delightfully painful way.
   âRohan-sensei,â you moaned out. Admittedly, you didnât like calling him that, but he insisted you call him sensei during times like this.Â
   âStop moving, youâre ruining the picture,â he chided. âGo back to the way you were, darling.â He leaned back, rolling his hips into you to punctuate his words as well as tease you.Â
Model nude for him. Whether you like it or not, he will ask you to do it and, if heâs in a sexy mood, you will be asked to do uncomfortable positions that will definitely leave you sore the next day. âIt highlights how the muscles work for a new character Iâm drawingâ or so he says. Other than that, heâll just let you pick somewhere comfortable and sexy to lie down.Â
#kishibe rohan not sfw#kishibe rohan n/s/f/w#rohan kishibe n/sfw#rohan n/sfw#rohan not sfw#rohan n/s/f/w#kishibe rohan x reader#kishibe rohan x reader n/sfw#kishibe rohan x reader not sfw#kishibe rohan x reader n/s/f/w#rohan prompts#not sfw#sfw
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