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#usually when I draw them they feel too flat
pseudowho · 12 hours
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Surely mister perfect dad-husband-lover Nanami babywears? I could see him in a big woven wrap, maybe one in the same pattern as his tie?
And once the baby is a toddler, tossing them on his back while they run errands about town?
Bonus: would Higuruma? I haven’t read the manga so I only really know of him and his traits via fandom…
Nanami Kento: He absolutely babywears 👏👏 I think he'd be into the reliability of a structured carrier myself, but would absolutely fall apart if Mrs.Nanami has one made with a bespoke, tie-matching pattern.
I think he'd also have a meticulously organised baby bag with snacks, outfit changes, medicine, etc. Truly, a prepared king. He finds it uniquely frustrating that most baby-change rooms are in women's only bathrooms.
I think he'd have a back carrier for a toddler, but he'd encourage them to walk as much as he could, wearing the carried just in case. They'd get thrown on his back when he needs to carry stuff though. He'd check they're awake back there by doing the Reach Back and Offer Snack technique...if a little hand comes out to take the snack, they're awake 😌
He'd be talking to people while babywearing, his usual low, stern voice, and would randomly interject every now and then with his sweet dad voice to include the baby: "...so we intercepted the Curse on the second floor, and Ino managed to take it out. But you don't need to know about that, do you, sweetheart? No, nooooo. No scary monsters here, no there aren't..."
Talk too loudly by him while the baby's asleep on him, and you'll be met with a death glare, and a single, raised finger in threat; Mr.Nanami Kento, who can excuse murder, but draws the line at disturbing naps.
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Higuruma Hiromi: While I HC Higuruma as child free by choice (I have written just one fic of Dad!Higuruma), I think he'd absolutely babywear through practicality, the guy's too busy to push a buggy. If he has to use a buggy one day, I picture him jogging this baby to daycare (because he's running late) while pushing this buggy. He drops his baby off, gives him a big kiss and hair ruffle...then runs back, because the baby's been holding onto his case notes for him, and he forgot them.
That baby would be his confidante; Higuruma would share case details and ask his baby's opinion ("...so the prosecution, think they've got the evidence they need, but they're clowns. They're clowns, aren't they? Aren't they darling? Yes they are..."), go to client meetings with the baby ("Look...I believe you, but my kid doesn't look convinced. Maybe try something more like..."), and use his baby as an excuse ("Ahhh I'm sorry, I can't make that client lunch actually? Why? Oh, me and my baby hate you I haven't got childcare for the afternoon, today.")
Higuruma's a big oral fixation guy, and a fidgeter (pen chewer, gavel twizzler, tie loosening...) and assumes his baby is too, so has a baby fiddle-clip for when he's babywearing (he likes a wrap sling-- he knows it looks sloppy, but he's a dexterous king and can tie one in 10 seconds flat). He may or may not have had a bespoke fiddle/teething clip made, with a little rubberised gavel on it for chewing.
He's one of those dads who feels sleepy when a baby naps on him. You'd find him, slumped back in his office chair, with a baby napping on his chest, while Hiromi snores away, had back and exhausted, a pen and paperwork still in his hand.
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Mr.Haitch is a keen babywearer. I'm very into Strong Man Wears Baby as a thing 💀
-- Haitch xxx
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thecandymaticart · 7 months
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Day 16. Object Head
Didn't have any of my own characters for this so I went with good old Dante!
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coolauntlilith · 9 months
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Every now and then I replay the first episode of VLD and I wonder why I thought it be a good show lol
#mostly just the part where Allura is assigning pilots to lions#why lol. the first five people who show up are just perfect fits?? hate it lol#i have no au plot ideas but itd have made more sense to draw out the forming of voltron. like for a longer time. like its the s1 finale#and to be traveling looking for appropriate pilots#or the s2 finale? like what if the original gang somehow stayed in contact despite not being Voltron paladins and they proved being the best#team despite not piloting immediately. i feel like a stronger plot of their forming teamwork outside of being Voltron would have also made#their friendships seem more real too lmao#like what if Lance IS Blue's pilot bit hes the only one for a long time. the other lions couldn't actually *just be* located#*but. not bit. and what if Pidge runs off in a stolen vessel to find her dad and brother. what if Shiro isnt.. so flat as a character and is#desperate to find his old team and runs off with them to help out and free others#Keith could somehow get involved with The Blades a lot sooner#and Hunk finds his footing as a leader in rebellion organization. i hate that he was just the funny guy allll the way thru#also (still not a plot bc my brain is unorganized lol) Allura doesnt die. Shiro actually gets to be gay with a husband. and we either need#to not make Lotor a villain or just go all out on making him the worst. i personally dont want him to be a villain bc it was stupid lol#also PULEEEAASE Lance is bi. Lance “I'm just getting a feel for the stick” *obsessed with his rival who doesnt even know he exists* McClain#i want to see him get over his crush on Allura within like 6 episodes and then see him making out with the mermaids then Keith when everyone#starts reuniting lol. my bicon Lance deserves to kiss mermaids like we all do and then get on when the otp lol#now im nostalgic for s1 VLD vibes. ya know. before hell lol#it really just gets worse after ... s3? everyone feels different. i usually tolerate up to about the end of s3 before i feel like its donezo#aunt posting#vld#voltron: legendary defender
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luveline · 6 months
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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!
thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem
The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 
He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 
James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 
He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 
You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 
"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 
"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 
James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 
"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 
"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 
You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.
"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.
Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 
"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 
"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 
"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 
"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 
"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 
"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 
The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 
The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 
"Eternal doesn't mean better." 
"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 
You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 
"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 
"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 
Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 
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zaynesaurora · 21 days
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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to dry humping — (MDNI)
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a/n: yowhza this made me have to get up and walk a lap, i struggled with caleb so hes demoted to bonus boy again srwy bout that :(theres a new bonus boy though,, i may have been swayed by recent events.
zayne ! sets a lazy pace, almost lack luster as he perches you on top of him in the confindes of his office during a particularly quiet dinner break- big hands tucked under the hem of your shirt so he can tickle at your skin until it begins to burn from the delicate friction, a skilled tongue dipping into your mouth in the same less than hurried attitude his hands are showing.
he would stop your hands as they journey towards the zip hiding his hardening self from you, cool fingers engulfing your own as he forces you to hold on to his belt buckle for the remainder of your ride.
"too risky my dear, im on the clock"
he cant silence the squeaks of his desk chair as he meets his end. leather groaning in effort when his hips chase you into the air above, eyes rolling to the base of his skull in the most beautiful display of bliss. he buttons his lab coat up before leaving his office. stains of your love hidden behind the stark white.
xavier ! always wears light coloured briefs incase his moment arises, loving the way the material becomes sheer as he leaks with excitement- load after load decorating the cotton in puddles as he ruts into you.
"hmph- so messy" he's babbling in your ear between heavy puffs of air from his nostrils.
xavier likes it when you play hard to get in this particular scenario. when your belly down on the bed, scrolling your phone and barely taking any notice of his manhood smoothing over the hills of your backside. he gets lost in his own fantasy- perverted nature making itself known in the way he wraps his body around you, hands tucking below your chest and thighs squeezing your own into a tight line. he keeps going, going until he can barely hold himself up and his weight becomes invasive when he's lay on your back in exhaustion.
when he eventually pulls away, a stringy mess connects the pair of you, another outfit christened by a make out session gone too far.
rafayel ! thinks he has control of every sexual situation ever. outright laughs in your face as he mocks your whimpers- deliberately pulling his hand away from the delicate lace covering you just as the warmth in your belly makes itself known. his teeth are bumping yours with every taunt, chests squishing with every snicker. until you grab him through his boxers, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"hmm scandalous, naugh-" words caught in his throat when you tug him harder than before.
its no secret rafayel is competative , and usually sulky when you try to overpower him but he can't help but give in when you everwhelm his senses in so many ways- need for release growing with every passing moment. he's certainly well behaved when you form an o-shape with your fist, instructing him to use your hand like a toy through his pants. pretty noises being rewarded with a quick tightening.
— bonus —
caleb ! does that thing boyfriends do when they pretend to be hitting it from behind when you bend over for any reason, except this time his make believe thrusts get a little too close and before you know it he has his palm flat to your back , pushing you into the countertop so he can keep you in place and indulge in the feeling of his loose sweats rubbing on his bare junk- lucky for him he's known for being commando in the comfort of his own home and the material is swallowing his tip in a way that feels so right.
"thats it baby, jus- a little more"
jeremiah ! blooms into a mix of pinks and reds as the colour works its way up his chest and into his cheeks- timidly meeting your eyes before snapping them shut in avoidance. you can hear the unsteady rythm in his ribs, you can see the resolve slipping in the vice like grip he has on the sheets he's sprawled on- if they were living he would be drawing blood by now and his hips spring forward everytime your underwear meets his. even when the pressures almost none existent.
"calm down sweetheart, you can do it"
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satoruhour · 7 months
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a/n: i need college / uni bf!geto rn bc my hands hurt :( newly established relationship <3 0.9k, rich kid!suguru i guess? / tagging @crysugu @na-t0 @papersirens @hydrovillette
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“didn’t i tell you not to go so hard on your essay?” geto gives you a small smile, countered by your cute pout in the dark room of your dorm. the way he lectures is gentle, having no bite to it because how would he ever dare to sink his teeth into something as sweet as you? he knows if he does, however, he just might become addicted to you. it’s clear already how the teeth is breaking skin and drawing blood just by the items in the room:
both your faces are illuminated by the fairy lights you begged suguru to buy — he gives in and buys it for you as always. it’s shown in the starbucks mug that cost ¥3300, the sanrio themed bed sheets that you’re now sitting on, the convenience store onigiris for you to store in your fridge.
“was rushin’ it before 2359, su, you know that…” you mumble more to yourself than your boyfriend, who’s staring at you as your eyes droop sheepishly to your connected hands. it’s not wrong that you could’ve started writing this essay a little earlier, cited your sources a little earlier, but you still managed to do it; at the expense of your hands. they ached and throbbed from the position they were in for the past few hours — at least you still had managed to submit it with two minutes to spare.
“but not to the point where your hands turn sore, my darling.” geto brings your hands to his lips to kiss, like the little gesture of love could magically heal you. it feels like it does. the tenderness of his touch, the roughness of his finger pads against your smoother skin, the thoughtfulness itself. you grunt a little in pain when suguru starts to massage the palm, digging his thumb in and dragging it up and down. he squeezes your hands, giving each finger its attention, wiggling the hands to loosen your muscles.
“you know,” you hum in response and look up from your flustered state to find him already staring at you, “my mom used to do this for me.”
“yeah?” you whisper, heart pounding in your ears. two and a half months in and geto suguru was already treating you like treasure, not at all what they say he is: conceited of his intelligence, rude, a know-it-all rich kid. sure, he was smart, he was rich, but he made it clear he had no interest in the industrial, business side of the family. geto was generally open about his past, his parents leaving the toxic world and giving their son an upbringing filled with unconditional love and openness. but people usually liked the juicier gossip; none of them had bothered to know geto for who he was.
“yeah.” geto brings you in via your hands, lips colliding clumsily against yours from the force and you both laugh softly, “said its been passed down in her family for the longest time.”
“it’s helping… a little,” you giggle, eyes memorising his eyes shone under fluorescent.
“is it now?” the warmth of his hand leave yours for a moment to tilt your head up, catching your lips properly this time as he moves slow. suguru takes his time with you, moving against you as his other hand still continues to massage. that was one thing he was good at too, multitasking; he plays with your hand, travelling over your fingers and stroking over each section and its nail bed and then pulling away teasingly while he continues to hypnotise you into a dance. you hear him hum into the kiss, exhaling through his nose as he now interlocks both hands.
“focus on the squeezes, baby,” geto suguru drives you insane, in that little silky voice of his and the slight lilt in his voice. you let him lead you, feeling the soft pressure of his hand as he brings them above your heads and leans forward. you make a small surprised sound as he brings you right down to lay flat on the bed, hovering over you whilst still giving those periodic squeezes, entirely at his mercy as his lips never stop. they come off to breathe for some air and you’re the same, flushed cheeks and swollen lips and geto lets out a shaky breath.
it’s only then when he lets go, caught in your trance. easily, he tugs you into his lap as he lays down, not sure if he could uphold his obsession if he was on top.
“is this really part of the massage process?” you ask, legs naturally going to either side of his hips as you lay on his chest. you smile to yourself when you realise how fast his heart’s beating. off to the side, geto finds your hand again: him with his left and you with your right and you tangle into each other with the choreography of a million sprouts in the wind. finger into finger and palm against palm.
“hmm…” geto feigns confusion, prompting you to turn your head towards him. you grin seeing his red cheeks, “nah, just deviating a little from the family recipe… is it working?”
“it was earlier but now? oh, no, not really.” geto’s eyes flutter close when you move forward just a bit to peck his lips. you twine your fingers with his; you’re getting good at this multitasking thing. “but wherever you are, i will always feel much better than i was.”
“good.” suguru mumbles with a lovesick smile, and he gives your connected hands a squeeze and a grin threatens to spread across his face when you squeeze back just as hard, “that’s… really good.”
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faeriekit · 1 month
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Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
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backwzzds · 9 months
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ೃ⁀➷ love yours, roronoa zoro (nsfw)
zoro’s feelings gets stronger for you after you give life to his child.
for the brilliant @noawithlove
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you finally managed to put kuina down for the night. with a heavy sigh, you hold your hands on your hips and look down at your sleeping child, swaddled in her pink blanket as she rested in her bassinet. you can’t help but fall asleep standing up, only to jolt back awake when you feel a broad chin rest on your shoulder.
“oh,” you let out a breath once you turn and see zoro. he could physically feel the tense tendons in your body briefly relax, but go back to defensive mode quickly. you were just exhausted, and he could see the effects of motherhood all over you.
“come on,” he mutters in your ear, slowly running his hands along the curves of your waist before disappearing right after. “come shower with me.” you turn around to see his reflection in a piece of the bathroom mirror.
the water is hot. steaming enough to soften the muscles in your back just a bit. you’ve been out of it the past few months, zoro could see it. the glimmer in your eyes he’d been so used to was slowly dimming away, even when you held kuina in your arms.
he knew how much child birth took out of you. all the nutrients and energy you’ve lost in the past four months, he could see it all in the paling of your normally colored skin, the dark circles forming around your eyes, and even something as small as the slight tremble in your body every time you moved. giving birth took a lot out of you.
you allow zoro to grab your wash cloth and soap it before briefly running over the terrain of your body. he spends longer time than usual going over your chest, and you don’t miss the way his fingers take their time across the pebbles of your nipples.
“you’re staring awfully hard?” you can’t help but tease him with a lazy smile. you were glad to have him home. you weren’t alone anymore. “you got a crush on me or somethin’, marimo?”
zoro’s face immediately turns red at you catching him in the act of staring and he kisses his teeth, finishing his work against your body. he leans down and begins on your legs with a quick, “shut up.” leaving his lips. “just look pretty is all.” he loved how quick he was able to get you to be yourself again. your funny self that played entirely too much with him.
you didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but you did anyway. your round eyes go big as you look down at the top of his head, one so close to between your legs. “really? you think so?”
this causes zoro to stand back on his feet and scoff. “course you are. couldn’t stop staring at your fine ass since i got home.” his frame so easily towers over you as he pulls your naked body close to his. “gimme kiss,” his voice is low and smooth.
your body draws over to his like a natural magnetic forcefield. when your lips press against his, zoro takes his time feeling all over your body, leaving no part of you untouched or unloved. “want me to prove it to you?”
you playfully roll your eyes and hold your hand up to him. “i think the little gremlin sleeping in the bassinet outside is enough proof you’ve given me.”
zoro grabs your hand and moves it out his way to kiss your lips. “you keep being smart and i’ll make you a mommy again,” zoro mutters against you. “open your legs and turn around.”
a gasp leaves you as zoro grows impatient and presses you against the cold wall himself. snaking his hand around to your front, he effortlessly plays with your clit while pestering small kisses to the nape of your neck. the little hairs at the back of your head lay flat as you feel his tongue run against them, licking you all over.
you didn’t understand how much this man loved you. he’d live in your fucking skin if he could. zoro takes his time licking down your body, and before you knew it, you were wet enough for him to easily slide himself between your folds.
you’re taken aback by how big he is. you’ve been used to his size for years, but you can’t remember the last time you’ve actively felt such a stretch in your cunt, and one this good at that. a small yelp escapes from your lips as zoro finally moves back and forward against you.
“zoro,” you whisper, eyes shutting from the immense pleasure. “faster, please.”
“sure your walls can handle that, baby?” zoro teases, but obeys your wish anyway. a smirk curls on his lips as he grips your fat tit in his hand, giving it a tight squeeze while his pace increased. “not still sore are you?”
you immediately shake your head at his question, wanting him to do nothing but slut you out for tonight. you only got a few hours before kuina woke up, and if you had to use it to get dick, then so be it!
“not gonna go easy on you,” zoro egged. “you’re gonna stay against this wall and take every inch of dick i give you like the good girl i know you are. got that?” you groan at the warm sensation of his tip hitting your cervix. words are barely able to leave your mouth as zoro speeds up his pace. you didn’t even have to do anything; he practically held your body up against the wall while he did all the work.
the swordsman wanted nothing than to be close to you, and that much showed in the way his chest was practically glued to your back. at this angle, zoro was able to hit places in your walls that you didn’t think he could ever touch. but nothing was impossible when it came to pleasuring you. he was gripping you all over, by your hair, keeping his arm around your neck in a slight chokehold, even down to your waist that he refused to let go of.
you feel yourself about to cum with the intense pressure of the hot water falling on your sides and zoro’s masculine grunts singing like music to your ears. it was amazing how everything in the outside world; outside of you and zoro were able to overstimulate you so fast. but with the steam of the bathroom heating up and the knotting feeling forming between your legs, you didn’t know where to keep your attention.
you can’t help but smile contently against the cold tile wall as you let zoro do whatever he wanted to you. over the sound of your man’s strained grunts, you softly let out, “know what i said earlier, but don’t you get me pregnant again, marimo. cuz this one’s going upstairs if you do.”
zoro can’t help but let out a humorous chuckle at your comment. this doesn’t slow his possessive thrusts though. “can’t promise it, mama.”
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kaicubus · 1 year
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Listen to the Rage Call | Sekido
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warnings ✩° : 18+ smut, face fucking, blow job, heavy cursing, manhandling, degrading, mentions of murder, size difference, mind breaking, fucking a demon, brat taming, consensual, bit of fluff at the end.
pairing ✩° : sekido x fem hashira!reader
premise ✩° : after escaping the fourth upper moon hantengu, you find yourself running up a mountain just to live to see another day. Unluckily, the clone that emerges from hantengu is the most angry one, who won’t let up.
word count ✩° : 4.4k
authors note ✩° : working on my smut writing skills, lmk how i did please!! anyways look for the next one soon to come...
©kaicubus do not steal
part one here!
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Was this the same demon from before? There was no way. The demon standing in front of you looked angry. Angrier than usual. Too angry for the other demon to be capable of even feeling. His red eyes were far more worse than blood shot, appearing to be pools of endless, de-oxygenated blood. Was it really the same demon who was crawling on the ground before?
You stare up at the demon, eyes darting all over his body. His intimidating height paired with his obviously strong build makes your head reel. If he really wanted to, he could snap you like a twig. At this rate, staring at him, you're convinced it’ll agitate him more, so you avert your eyes and back away.
It only takes a second before the demon suddenly appears right in front of you, pushing you back with a demonic force of lightning, forcing you down on your knees to try and cushion your fall.
If there was one thing you were known for as a nameless hashira, it was your ability to out run a demon. You were quick with your feet, and that came in handy right when you looked right into the demon’s piercing red eyes. Your heart drops and you look up quickly, grunting at the force of your landing, and dodging the demons next attack. Huffing and puffing, you run backwards, keeping your eyes on him as his seemingly endless stamina only brings him closer to you when he runs. At all times, he’s only two feet away, but you keep running. Nothing matters more than living right now. But looking at him felt like death.
You weave back and forth, jumping over and below his electric attacks and try your best to swing at him with your nichirin blade, only managing to trim the frayed edges of his wavy, dusky locks. The demon roars angrily and speeds up, now one foot away from you. Your heart pounds inside your throat.
You don’t even notice, but in the midst of his chase, you two have seemed to have ended up right on the rocky platform of a flat area of one of te tallest mountains surrounding Hantengu’s lair. Only then, when you realize, do you stop running to catch your breath. Without breaking eye contact, you draw your sword and grip onto the handle, ready to face him head on. Now, the demon looks at you this time. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to get pissed off once again, making him roar out in rage.
The sound of his demonic cry causes you to fall back and hit the ground, landing right on your knees and on a few sharp pebbles. You wince, but inevitably you try to stand up.
It’s no use. He roars again and the force is enough to keep you on the ground this time.
As soon as you hit the ground, you close your eyes on impact, but when you open them, the tall, looming figure towers over you like a skyscraper, invading your vision. A really, angry skyscraper. In a panic, you pull out your sword and try to make use of it. Your shaky hands tremble more as a flash of burning, crimson red flashes at you, causing you to drop your sword. You barely have time to think before the figure lifts it’s foot and stomps directly on top of your sword, snapping it in half like a wooden pencil. That’s when it hits you.
This demon is going to kill you. You don’t even have a chance. You’re going to die. You’re not ready to die.
Preparing for the worse, you close your eyes again, in fear of what you’ll see when the moonlight casting above reveals what hideous monster will have the pleasure of taking your life. But instead, nothing happens.
Your brow quivers at the lack of anything coming your way, so you open your eyes to see your opponent standing only a few feet away from you. Just as you’d feared, he was strong. Built almost as if he were carved from sealed oak wood by Muzan himself, everything from his wide, protruding horns down to his thick calves had ‘killer demon’ written all over them. You don’t look away from the demon’s raven-like hair and instead lock eyes with him, his carnelian colored orbs staring directly into yours, eyelids pulled back into a furious squint along with a curved lip and crinkled chin. His frown makes all the hair on your body stand. For some reason, not all of it was from fear.
Without a sword to defend yourself, you resort to a rock, throwing it at the demon pathetically. It hits his knee, only managing to bounce back to you as if it were made of rubber in comparison to his stocky build.
“Are you fucking kidding me.” The demon says, “You're fucking joking. YOU! They sent YOU of all people to kill ME? HA! Holy shit.” His voice booms louder than anything you've ever heard before, piercing through the sound barrier as he leans his head forward in disbelief, “You're the one who found me, ran away from me, and is now challenging me with a fucking broken sword? Now what? Just like your sword, you'll break and be replaced. So what’s the use?”
“W-Who’re you supposed you be?” Your voice trembles uncontrollably.
“Who...who am I? WHO AM I?” The demon growls and steps forward, “I, am the demon who’s going to kill the hashira standing helplessly on her knees in front of me. You have no right to belittle me with your meaningless questions.”
“I meant, your name. Asshole.”
The demon and pauses, eyes squinting and looking directly at you. His angered expression only heightening as the thought of his name being unknown plagues his mind. “Sekido.” He sighs and steam hisses out from his nose, resembling an angry bull as he looks down at you, “You came all this way to find me, right? How could you not know my fucking name?!” Sekido stomps the bottom of his zori into the mountain’s surface, shaking the ground beneath the both of you. Rocks rumble upwards and jiggle in the air for a moment before he slams his foot back down, letting them crash against the rest of the stone.
Suddenly, an idea pops into your mind and you confidently move towards him.
“Don’t blame me if no one knows your insignificant name. Maybe I don’t know you and you certainly don't know me and what I’m capable of.”
Sekido’s eye twitches, “And who are you supposed to be, brat?”
“Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You smile.
“I hate useless humans who waste my time, but most importantly I hate meaningless humans who insult me. I’ll make your death quick so I don’t have to deal with your jokes.”
If you played your cards right, purposefully pushing Sekido into anger with childlike taunts would distract him enough so you can behead him. It could work, but it also has a possibility of severely backfiring and making your death come sooner, but without a sword to defend yourself, you were left with one option and that was being a brat. After all, he constantly looks like he’s on the verge of being blown over, so a small insult would definitely do the trick. “Who said I was joking? You really are like that weak one I killed before. Hantengu. You really are his clone, huh? Like a child, stomping when someone points out one of your obvious flaws.”
"Obvious flaws?” Sekido huffs again, blowing even more steam out of his nose, “You're one to talk! Look at you! You're just a stupid human! And don’t compare me to that scum! He’s worthless and nothing like me, no where near as powerful as me!”
You laugh, “A stupid human? What are you, four? Give me a better insult and maybe I’ll think of something good to say about you.” It was working. “I can’t really find anything. I mean, you're talking about how I’m meaningless, when clearly, no one has really bothered to find you, have they? You’re just a hot headed low class demon, who’s getting pissed off because I don’t know him.”
“SHUT UP!” Sekido scowls and closes the distance between you, “Humans like you are really the worst. Demon slayer my ass, the only thing you have is just a really big fucking mouth. Maybe I need to shut that up for you.”
“Huh?” You blink and let your shoulders down. That’s when Sekido steps forward, closer than ever, and grins. The shadows of his face only make him look scarier. There’s a pause between the look he gives you that runs a shiver down your spine and when his claw-like fingers stab into the side of his waist.
Without saying another word, Sekido pulls down his hakima pants down past his hips and you watch his dick spring out in front of you. He’s a demon, but his dick is no doubt human. Veins run up and down his shaft, decorating the sides of his length with ridges and lines. Your eyes bulge owlishly at size of his length. Of course, Sekido was huge. He towers over you so easily, but you can’t help but be a little shocked at how his height transferred to the size of his cock, especially with the slight curve it has.
“U-Uh...this is not what I expected...when you said you were going to shut my mouth for me...” You swallow and blink up at him, “I thought you meant like...slicing my throat or something.”
“Do you know how inconvenient that is? Killing you is more tedious. Then again, I would really hate if you got out of this without a good enough punishment for wasting my fucking time. Don’t think for a second I didn’t notice what you were trying to do. You think I’m stupid huh? Is that it?” Sekido huffs, “Unless you want to be killed, you’ll do what you wanted, yeah?”
Left with no other choice, you give him the nod of your approval and glance up at the demon’s length, just another reminder of what you've gotten yourself into. You gulp your nervousness down. There’s no way that much of him can fit inside your mouth; if you don’t die from his demonic strength alone, you're sure to see the light from the sheer girth of Sekido’s cock. Beads of sweat pool at the pores on your nose and between your brows, sitting helplessly and just staring at it. Before you even have a good idea on what’s really happening, your hand moves on its own and reaches for the base of it, bobbing his cock down closer to your face or at least down to your level. You can feel your mouth start to open, not ignoring how the silence between you grows louder and louder, the only other sound being your pounding heart bounce around your chest, jumping to your throat.
You kittenishly lick the head of his cock, collecting the small drop of precum on your tongue and swallowing, not wanting to over do it. He actually tastes better than you would've expected. He’s warm too. Like a furnace against your flat tongue, he instantly warms you up from the coldness of the stone pressing into your kneecaps and legs.
If he was going to stay quiet and still, you thought, maybe you can actually see yourself enjoying this. He’s not putting up a fight, after all, and neither are you.
You open your mouth and lick again, flicking your tongue over the slit of his head. Using your hands, you start pumping your fists around his member and open your mouth wide enough to engulf his width. 
Despite all your intimate efforts, the demon shows no remorse and makes a disappointed, gruff sound, “Is that all you got? Stupid human, can’t even suck my dick right.“ Sekido scoffs angrily. You flash an annoyed ‘really?’ look at him, mouth stuffed with his long cock, already doing more than you'd bargained for. He doesn't give you time to react and instead, grabs the back of your head and shoves you down forward. The sudden change in strength causes you to cough, removing all air from your lungs and being quickly replaced by more of Sekido’s cock. The demon harnesses his claws deep onto the roots of your hair and bobs your head over his rigid cock, taking it upon himself to face fuck you furiously.
“You try to get out of death by trying to be a brat, when you don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing in the first place. If you’re going to do it, do it right and I wouldn't have to do all the work here.” Sekido says with a elongated frown, tilting his head down, pointing his horns down at you. You can feel his anger in the form of his grip on your head grow larger as he shoves you down to take more of him.
“MMH!” You instinctively think to pull away, now losing your breath quicker than ever, but you don’t. Instead, you struggle to take his cock as it hits the back of your throat, pumping down and inside of you. Embarrassment darkens your face as you start to realize that you actually quite enjoy his roughness—his man handling—and how fast he’s fucking his shaft into your mouth. You glance up at Sekido, meeting his furious closed eyes and arched frown, as he groans violently.
“Hah...That’s more my speed.” Sekido’s chest heaves. He uses his knuckles to pull at your hair again, reminding you of his claws well tangled into your hair, tightening his grip and making you wince out in pleasure. The pressure sends your mind reeling as quick, ‘schlk!’ noises make their way out of your mouth and whatever space Sekido’s cock doesn't fill. A bit of saliva leaks out of the corners of your lips and gives you the mobility of taking more of him, gulping down his member down. It doesn’t even matter how messy you look right now, you're convinced it’s his goal anyways. Your face is entirely red now. Red with embarrassment, red with the strain his hand has in your hair, and red with the glow of Sekido’s glare. He’s practically emitting the color.
“You’re so pathetic. Look at you. Can’t even take my cock in your fucking mouth, can you? How sad is that? Open more.” Sekido jeers angrily, bucking his hips forward to bury himself deeper in your throat. Every snap of his hips sends your body convulsing harder, your legs trembling now with nothing but pure arousal, the space in between them starting to pool with slick.
You gag when he pushes you further down his curved cock, forced to swallow more of his length to even get a chance to breathe. Even with calming down and loosening your jaw, he’s still so big. Tears collect on your lashes when you try to keep out, yet still loving the head reeling feeling of how he’s basically using your mouth like a sleeve for his own pleasure. It’s fucked up, but you don’t care.
Sekido pushes your head down as far as possible, watching your nose press against the front of his pelvis and holds you down until your throat begins to tighten, desperate for release and a chance to breathe. True to his nature, Sekido doesn't let up. With the upper hand he has, Sekido continues to slam his cock into your mouth again and again, relishing in the burning ecstasy the wetness of your tongue provides. He grunts deeper and more animalistcally with each thrust, chasing his release as he jerks into you furiously.
When you finally look up at him, eyes previously sealed shut with tears of ache, you see the rage demon grinning ear to ear, his red eyes flashing that same carnelian hue down at you through thin slits. You want to say something, anything to make him slow down, but it’s no use. Not even muffled groans or whimpers can make Sekido stop, instead they only make him go faster.
“Maybe you'll think twice before coming here and wasting my time, right human?” He gathers your hair in a balled fist and tugs your hair back, giving you a minute to breathe. You don’t even realize it when your head tosses itself back on instinct, coughing and gasping for air as you look up at him with drool and beads of sweat rolling down your face. Pleased for a little bit, Sekido’s lowly chuckles make you tremble, and only then do you realize that you need more of him.
“S-Sekido, what are you doing?” You shift closer to his legs and go back to pawing for his throbbing cock, soaked with your saliva.
“What? Do you want something?” His lip curls in annoyance, “Tch. Hard to believe you already miss me. Did you already get addicted to me or something?" His question makes you squirm out of how right he really is.
You don't even have the means to think, all you do is palm your way to your knees and go to reach for his dick again, practically hearing its screams to have it inside your mouth again. Or maybe that’s just you. Sekido notices your attempt and bats your hands away and shoves your head back, forcing you to look up at him and at the dark sky above. You’d forgotten what true night looks like for the time being, having only the darkness of your closed eyelids to stare at.
“The hell are you trying to do to me?” Sekido stretches you back and arches his pointed brows, “What ever it is you want, it’s not working and I’m not going to give it to you. It’s my life you want, right?” He bends down and lifts your chin up sharply, meeting his blood shot eyes with yours, “Hah? That’s it right?“
You shake your head. Unable to speak, you reach your hand out and feel your chest jump in response to his close proximity.
“I want you.” The words leave your rose-wet lips, more quickly than you’d hoped, but your message gets across regardless. With a laugh, Sekido steps back and clutches the base of his cock, pointing the twitching member at you with his head.
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Feels good to have you not piss me off, right human? How do you feel now that you want this demon cock inside you?” He growls and smacks the stickiness of your saliva and his cum onto your bottom lip, “Answer right and I’ll give you what you want.”
Without hesitation, your voice slurs, “Feels so good. It feels so so so good, Seki...”
Pleased with your answer, he lifts his cock to your lips and enters slowly, allowing you to take him in all, agonizingly slow, forcing you to realize how much you want this, how much you love the taste of his dick inside of your mouth and just how full it makes you feel. You just can’t get enough. He wants you to realize that. That there's nothing better than him. The moment doesn't last too long though, Sekido gets impatient and parts your lips further with his width and buries himself back into you, his rightful place. You can’t help but mumble happily, closing your eyes and letting your hands rest on your empty lap.
It doesn’t take long before you relearn the motions around Sekido’s member and start to feel around all again, tongue licking all around the bulging veins of his warm cock. You swallow every bit of him down, feeling the demon tense up every now and then from how comfortable you've adjusted your throat to become, not even minding him snapping his hips against you. Little groans and half-breaths escape Sekido’s mouth, much to his displeasure, as he finds himself quickly start to tremble. The last thing he wants is for anyone to hear him in a vulnerable state, because to him, it’s shameful to indulge in the pleasure he’s being given. But how can he resist? The softness of your hot, pink tongue, warm walls of your mouth and tightness of your throat squeezing him dry, a deadly combination for a demon like him.
“Fuuuuck, yeah, just like that...” Sekido feeds off the sight of you, admiring your scraggly hair and bliss ridden expression, biting down on the corner of his lip so hard that he draws blood, just enough.
You pull back just a little and join your hand to the excess length of his cock as you start to pump up and down on his well drenched member. Focusing on his head mostly, your mouth encloses on the tip as you suckle on the firm, yet surprisingly smooth flesh and swirl the underside of your tongue on his sensitivity. “S-Shit, ah, right there. There! Fuck!” His hips start to convulse, overwhelmed with the little pressure you suck on his tip, now practically back down with your mouth half way down his cock, “That’s it...that’s what I want. Fuck you feel so good, hashira.” Sekido groans and curls his body down closer to yours, “Fuck!”
Your mouth softens around his shaft, swallowing to earn more room to take his size. It doesn’t take long before your head starts to spin even more, quickly getting dizzy off the feeling of Sekido thrashing into you with no remorse for someone like you. The weight of his hand crashes down on the top of your head and suddenly your mouth is ripped away from Sekido’s length, forcing you to look at it eye to eye. You stare at the seemingly blushed tip of his cock and feel your chest burn with a trembling sense of euphoria taking over any sensible thought you had left in your head. The stickiness of the tip of his head makes your throat buzz and you throw yourself back onto it, licking and slurping it back into its rightful place.
“That’s right, you can’t get enough can you? You can’t think with my fucking cock inside your pretty mouth, huh?” Sekido edges on, getting drunk off of the ‘glup’ sounds you make oh so perfectly for him. He bends down slightly and rests his palm on the side of your face, allowing you to open your eyes and look at him. But his softness only lasts for a second before he’s gripping tightly onto your cheeks, forcibly protruding your lips out.
“It pisses me off that you're so good at this. To think someones had you before me, infuriates me. Who else has had you before? Another hashira? A childhood friend? I’ll kill them so that I’m the only one who gets to have you.” He roars, now angrier than ever. With his anger taking over his senses, Sekido engulfs himself further into you, causing you to choke on his cock and gag on it. His pupils fill with the same red in the rest of his eyes and he groans again, his speed accelerating. You try to breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when Sekido won’t let you even do that. You squeeze your eyes shut and manage to suck harder, which seems to slow him down just a bit.
“Fuck!“ He groans and his cock starts to pulsate in your mouth. You look up at him again only to see him struggling. He laughs and throws his head back, “Fuck! Human, your mouth is so friggin’ tight. No wonder why you're so good, you've had practice haven't you? Just tell me who and I’ll devour them. I want you too—fuck! You're the only one I want, understand?!”
“Nngh~! Ahn...Ahh...Seki...” Your voice vibrates around his cock. When you thought it would never happen, it does. Sekido finally reaches his high and groans out loudly, gritting his teeth and letting out struggled grunts that escape through his sealed fangs in intervals.
“S-Shit! G-Gah!” He groans and leans his head back, releasing everything into you. Squeezing your eyes to the darkest black they’ve been, you feel Sekido’s hot cum spurt all the way to the back of your throat, filling you up within seconds. As he continues to shudder and hold onto you for support, he huffs hot air down onto your face, claws clenching harder and harder, practically biting into your scalp. You too take the opportunity to pant for air, guzzling down all of his sticky fluids right down to your stomach, instantly becoming full and warm-bellied.
“So messy. So fucking filthy.” Sekido grins, “That’s right, be a good slut and drink it all.”
Without a second thought, you close your eyes as tears of pleasure seep out and roll down your plump cheeks, and manage to guzzle down every single drop of Sekido’s essence without any leaking. The hot liquid only continues to spurt into your mouth, emptying his frustration all into you without letting up. So you continue swallowing, only occasionally coughing, until finally Sekido’s cock releases itself from your mouth. Heat instantly emerges from your throat and his member, twitching slightly from the attention it’s received. You peer up at Sekido, awaiting his reaction, and to your surprise, he looks less angry than before. Almost content with your work.
“H-Hah...that’s the first time you did something right tonight.” He tenderly pushes back your hair and smooths down all of the fly aways, mixing droplets of sweat down the roots of your hair. “If only you could see your face.” You stare up at Sekido with heavy eyes, a thin layer of tears sloshing around to the side which in turn, reveals slightly wet eyelashes clumped together.
You mumble incoherently and hug the black fabric that’s strapped around Sekido’s legs, rubbing your face on him in a daze. The demon scoffs and picks you up from his feet and holds you close to his chest, bridal style.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. It’s annoying how dirty you are. Come along now, stupid human.”
“Call me by my name, Sekido.” You huff deeply and hug the demon close.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his scraggly raven-black hair swishing across his horns, “Never. Stupid human. Not as long as I have you.”
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pandoraslxna · 7 months
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⋆。° ✮ minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinktober masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: cockwarming, voyeurism
⋆。° ✮ adult Neteyam and Ao’nung art was made by the amazing @cinetrix 🩵
⋆。° ✮ Translations: tawtute = human, sky person
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"Comfortable?" Neteyam asks, half teasing and half honest concern.
He strokes his hands up your thighs, resting them on your hips, squeezing slightly.
"That’s a word for it", you huff, panting lightly behind your mask. There’s tension in your words, but not pain. Definitely not pain. This is something else.
Every shift Neteyam makes draws a quiet, soft moan from your lips, and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from making too much noise. Calming yourself with deep, even breaths, you allow your eyes to drift elsewhere.
You try to ignore the people around you equally the same way you try to put your whole focus on them, everything to blend out the feeling of being split apart by Neteyams thick cock.
He sits heavy in your lower abdomen, and you feel hot and full. He’s stretching your gummy walls as far as they can go to adjust to his ridiculous size.
Never before have you cursed the na‘vi’s clothing as much as you did in this moment. They’re skimpy, short and thin, the loincloths easy to pull aside and rearrange so nobody saw the way Neteyam lowered you onto his throbbing length and then kept you there, unmoving for hours on end.
In front of you, the metkayina were dancing around the fireplace, loud music was played while others ate and drank the night away, celebrating for whatever reason. You couldn’t remember, couldn’t focus enough to remember.
After a while, Neteyam jerks you out of your reverie by placing his chin onto your shoulder and whispering lowly, "Look who’s watching."
You follow his line of sight, to the opposite end of the gathering. Through the flames of the fire, your eyes met half lidded, ocean blue ones.
Ao’nung has a scowl on his face as he stares right back at you, and it sends a physical shiver down your spine. Subconsciously, you clench around the cock resting inside of you, squirming in his lap, which in return makes Neteyam grunt. He seems rather amused by the fact that Ao’nung’s watching, not at all possessive like he usually was when it came to his favorite little human, so he makes it a show to drag his tongue over your pulse point in a long, broad stroke, leaving a wet trail on your skin behind.
Still, Ao’nung watches. He shifts in his seat in what looked like a change of position, as if his own loincloth was growing significantly tighter by the second.
"I need water", you swallow dryly, cheeks burning up in red hot embarrassment.
"Oh, do you?" Neteyam grins, and you know by the mischievous tone in his voice that you probably shouldn’t have bought this up. "Then get it."
It’s right there, on the flat wooden surface that almost looks like a small table, just out of your reach.
"I– I can’t", you whisper. "The people, they’re going to… they will see."
"No they won’t. Most of them are drunk anyways, nobody‘s paying attention to us", Neteyam chuckles. "And the only one who is, already looks like he knows what’s going on."
You suck a breath in through your teeth as you ready yourself to move, glancing around to find everyone too busy in their own little conversations to even look at the foreign demon sitting in Neteyams lap.
It’s a tortuously slow drag as you pull up, snatching the drink right in front of you and quickly sinking back down. Neteyam groans, hands going tight on your hips, while you bite back a whimper.
It takes you several minutes to collect your breathing this time, while Neteyam forces his hands to loosen so your hips won’t be bruised later.
Before you can even lift up your mask to take a sip of water, your eyes fall on the now empty seat across the fire.
"Enjoyed the show?", Neteyam suddenly chirps, grinning wide and sharp toothed, just as you register the tall figure standing only mere inches next to the two of you.
You had to crane your neck all the way up to even look at his face, where the scowl had turned into a sly grin.
"We need to talk", he says, and even though his eyes are entirely fixed on yours, you’re sure he’s talking to Neteyam. That must be the case, because said omatikaya then chuckles, "Why don’t you take a seat? Sit with us."
Ao’nungs grin turns into something more dangerous, and his next words make your breath hitch in your throat as he sits down on the log to your left, his hand coming to rest on your upper thigh.
"Actually, I was hoping your tawtute could take a seat... and sit with me."
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Just Friends, Chapter One:
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: E (18+ ONLY, mutual pining, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 34), angst??, masturbation (m))
wc: 2k
joel masterlist | series masterlist
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Joel feels weak when he sees you.
That’s the best word for it. Weak. A complete lack of control—of power. Logic and reason are nothing but incoherent mumbles in the background every time you’re in the same room as him, even worse when you look into his eyes and speak his name.
He hadn’t felt this sort of tug towards someone in years, and the unfamiliar sensation of needing to simply see you at least once a day in order to function properly was beginning to consume him. He didn’t know what to do to rid himself of this infatuation, avoiding you was impossible and so was getting closer thanks to that 30-something year old patrol ranger you called your boyfriend.
He watched the two of you together as though it was his job. He watched the way you seemed to keep him at an arm’s length when the two of you were out together, always sandwiching yourself between your friends rather than beside the man you were supposed to love.
He couldn’t help but wonder what the two of you were like in private.
It couldn’t be a very passionate affair, that much he knew. Real passion wasn’t so easily concealed. It was consuming, drawing you like a magnet to your partner, burrowing beneath your skin, creating an itch to be near them—to be touching them. It couldn’t be an affair of passion.
Just now, he’s sat in his usual seat in the corner of the bar, his back pressing to the padded walls of the booth, his hand holding a crystal glass filled with whiskey, his brows drawn together, his eyes locked on the back of your head as you ordered a drink, your friend next to you. Joel wants to stand up, walk over, and offer to buy your drink right in front of him just to see the look on your face.
Would you tell him to fuck off? Or would you say yes?
The laugh you let out in response to something your boyfriend whispers into your ear stops Joel from finding out.
“God, I need a drink,” Ellie sighs as she emerges from nowhere, her backpack being shrugged onto the floor as she sits down across from Joel.
“Tough day learnin’ your ABC’s?” he quips, his tone still flat from the war jealousy was waging inside of his head.
“Ha-ha,” she replies, just as dry. She knocks her knuckles on the wooden table as she watches his eyes drift back to you, now seated at a table just five or so feet away from him—too close for his comfort. Downing his drink, he shifts his eyes back to Ellie in time to catch her chuckling at him.
“What?” he asks, tilting his head at her as though he were begging her not to read him as easily as she does.
“Nothing,” she shakes her head and laughs again before reaching over the table to swig the finger of whiskey left inside Joel’s glass.
“Hey,” he calls as he catches her mid sip, stealing the glass back. “They got rules about kids drinkin’, you know that. You itchin’ for another lecture from Maria about followin’ the rules?”
“No,” she replies. “It’s a bullshit rule anyway.”
“No, it ain’t,” he sighs as your laughter fills the room again, his chest panging causing him to physically wince. “I’m ready to go home. You comin’ or you stayin’?”
“Staying,” she says, grabbing her backpack and setting it on the table. “Have homework to finish and your sad country music being blared through the house isn’t going to help keep me focused.”
“Don’t disrespect my sad country music,” he warned playfully as he stood up with a grunt, finishing the little whiskey left in his glass in one gulp. “I’ll see ya back at home by curfew.”
“About that…” Ellie looked up at Joel with a hopeful smile. “Dina invited me over to spend the night—“
“Dina can spend the night at ours,” he argued, that protective streak of his making it’s usual appearance.
“Dina and I don’t wanna watch you drink and sing along to George Jones, dude,” she replied, frowning up at him until he broke.
“Fine. But you’re back in time for breakfast tomorrow.” Ellie grinned as she nodded at him, his eyes rolling and a chuckle escaping his chest. “Spoiled.”
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As Joel starts to make his exit, he stops at the bar to deliver his empty glass and pay off his bill. That’s where you find him.
“Hey,” you start, hoping to conceal your deeply hidden crush on the older man with friendliness. Joel’s head turns to you so quickly you swear you hear his neck crack, his unreadable eyes locking on yours as though you were some sort of apparition he was almost certain wasn’t actually there. “I just wanted to come over. Say hi.”
“Hi,” he replies, choked and unprepared. Clearing his throat, he tips his head towards your table. “I saw you were with your friends, otherwise I would’a came over and said somethin’.”
“You can always come over and say something,” you assure, fighting the urge to bat your eyes at him as you give him a smile. The man whose coat you’re wearing lingers in the back of your mind as you stare at the man you’ve wanted since he arrived.
“How’s the new fence treatin’ ya?” he asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he leans a shoulder onto the bar and faces you. You think back to the weekend he spent building your white picket fence last month, free of charge. The way his arms looked in a t-shirt as he sawed away at the wood still makes you dizzy.
“Well, it’s still upright so…you must’ve done a good enough job on it,” you offer with a smirk, earning the slightest of chuckles. You always wondered why everyone seemed to think he didn’t have a sense of humor, he seemed to find you funny enough. “I, uh, also came over to invite you over to my place tomorrow evening.”
You watch as Joel’s brow lifts with interest.
“Oh yeah? You throwin’ a party or somethin’?” he asks.
“My birthday,” you shrug. “Figured I’ve gone twenty years without celebrating it, might as well.”
“That’s what this place is supposed to be about,” he says. “Doin’ normal things again.”
“Exactly,” you smile, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he mimicks it. “So, can I count you in?”
“Long as you got somethin’ to drink.” You laugh and nod in reassurance. “Well, I’m in, then.”
“Alright, I’ll let you escape before someone else comes up and tries to talk to you,” you offer, reaching your hand over to touch his arm. Joel looks down at the contact before meeting your eyes again, something unreadable lingering in his dark irises that makes you flustered enough to pull your hand away. “I’ll see you.”
“See ya,” he replies, quiet as he taps the counter with his knuckles before turning and walking off. Your eyes couldn’t help but lower to his fist as it hung by his side, clenching and unclenching. With a subtle but deep breath, you turn around and walk back to your table—back to your boyfriend and all of his perfection that bores you beyond belief.
“Why did you go up to him?” Josie, a friend of yours, asks as you return to your spot at the table and reach for your beer to wash down the lingering desire.
“I invited him to my party,” you replied, shrugging as you gave her a confused look. “What?”
“Babe,” your boyfriend, Will, chuckles. “He’s…old.”
“And an ass,” Josie adds. You roll your eyes at them, knowing that neither of them ever had a real conversation with Joel, making their opinion of him mute. “Did he say yes?”
“Yes,” you chuckle, amused by the shock on their faces. “We’re friends!”
“Since when?” Josie asks with a hearty laugh.
“Since always,” you reply with a shrug before continuing, “I helped show him around when he got here since I’m right across the street.” Josie looks to Will and then Will looks to you, a look of amused confusion on his handsome face. “He’s a nice guy when you get to know him.”
“Maybe, but he’s also old enough to be our father,” Will argues. You roll your eyes at the reality of the age gap between you and your secret crush, twenty-two years to be exact.
“There are only so many people our age in Jackson, honey,” you say, irritation thick in your tone. “And besides, just because he’s older means I shouldn’t be friendly to him? We’re just gonna start shunning every person in Jackson above what, fifty?”
“You know what,” Will starts, reaching his hand over to rub your back, his warm touch only making you feel colder. “You’re right. We’ll be friendly to him too. Okay?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, lifting your beer up to your lips, wishing more than anything that the man touching you was someone else.
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Joel’s in bed, his drunk thoughts centering around you. Around the way you smiled up at him as though you had no clue that his heart was beating out of his chest. Maybe you didn’t, but how could you not notice his sweaty palms, the nervous twitch of his lips when you forced a smile onto his face?
He was sure he was going to lose it completely when your hand came to rest on his arm. He wanted to run and at the same time wanted to get closer, to feel you too. But, the falter in your smile once his eyes met yours and your hand leaving his arm so abruptly it hurt grounded him back to reality. The one in which you were a taken woman and he was a man twenty years older.
It makes him feel sick when he tries not to think about you, so he doesn’t bother as he reaches his hand over his briefs and grips his swelling girth in an attempt to soothe the throbbing ache there. He grunts as he strokes himself through the fabric, just enough to build himself up slowly.
He thinks of you. He thinks of that weekend he built your fence. He thinks about the way you looked in the sun, the green grass beneath you as you sat out on the lawn and kept him company. He thinks about your legs, bare in the summer heat, your denim shorts cut short enough to make him turn red when you rolled over to lay on your stomach.
As he rubbed his thumb over the now weeping head of his cock, he imagined what it would be like to take those shorts off of you. To lay claim to what lies underneath. He moans as he imagines the sounds he’d pull from you.
Pulling his briefs down enough that his cock was springing free, he licks his hand and grips himself at the base, another choked moan slipping free as his fist glides up and then down again, over and over.
He wonders what you’re like in bed, how you like it, if you’d let him take control or demand it for yourself. It didn’t really matter, he remembers, not when he’d never have the chance of finding out.
When he cums, he groans, his fist stroking up and down, gathering his spend to help ease the glide of his hand until he’s finally had his fill. With a sigh, he lets his head fall back against his pillow, his eyes on the ceiling fan spinning above him.
“Get a fuckin’ grip,” he curses himself.
It doesn’t work.
1K notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 6 months
Text
Eccentricities
Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!
(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)
Pt 1: Link
Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua
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Pt. 2
It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.
And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.
You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.
Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.
Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.
So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.
But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.
While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.
On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.
You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.
But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.
But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.
Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.
"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.
"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.
"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.
"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.
"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.
Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.
"Whatcha watching?" She asked.
"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.
"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.
You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.
"Hey, Lyla?"
"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.
"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"
Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."
"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.
"Has he ever hired any male staff?"
"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.
You gasped. "Are you serious?"
"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.
"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"
"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.
"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"
You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.
But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?
It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.
"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.
"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"
"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"
Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."
You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"
Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.
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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.
He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.
When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.
Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.
There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.
Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...
All of those were things he'd glanced at before.
But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".
The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...
He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?
Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.
Pequeña ave. Little Bird.
His Little Bird.
You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.
You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.
Yet...
His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...
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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.
Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.
You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.
It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.
His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.
He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.
So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.
"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.
You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.
"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.
When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.
"L-Look, man! I was just--"
"Shut up." Miguel snapped.
He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.
The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.
"Y-you're--"
"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.
"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."
"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.
"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.
"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"
"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.
The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.
When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.
Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.
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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.
He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".
It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.
Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.
He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.
He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.
When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.
Perfect.
You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.
You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.
"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.
He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.
Spider-Man was a good guy, right?
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Pt. 3: Link
580 notes · View notes
mishellii · 18 days
Text
♢ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢
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ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ, ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ, ᴋɪʙᴀ, ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ, ɴᴇᴊɪ & ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ
a/n: sooo my first headcanons yeiih!! this just came flowing out of me while watching boruto tbh because i'm delusional lmao,,,, anyway, very self indulgent as always :) ignore typos pls i cant spell aaaand enjoy xx
likes & reblogs appreciated <3
warnings: none! SFW :) not proofread
masterlist
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♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢
✿sUCH a messy sleeper
❀he'd toss and turn throughout the whole night, ending up somewhere completely different than where he fell asleep on the bed
❀matching pyjama sets !!!
✿especially seasonal ones, he adores them
✿BLANKET HOGGER !!!
❀but not on purpose really, he just pulls it with him due to all his movements
✿u always wake up with it either on the floor or him laying atop of it
❀sometimes he hits u with his elbow or his feet, but pls don't tell him he WILL cry
✿just push him away, boy will not wake up under any circumstances
❀the both of u alWAYS cuddle when falling asleep
✿the usual position is with his arms around your waist, legs thrown over ur own and his face resting next to ur shoulder
❀for that exact reason he's a BIG SPOON !!
❀so so quick to fall asleep, and wakes up after u as well
✿but not at all groggy in the morning !! he's energetic from the second he opens his eyes and sees u preparing breakfast
❀overall just the softest boyfriend ever
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♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢
❀now thIS dude sleeps like a corpse
✿he's not particularly prone on cuddling u, but he fairly enjoys having ur head on his chest and feeling ur fingertips draw circles against his skin
❀he'd never admit it tho obviously
✿mostly wears a black lose t-shirt and some short sweats or sumn 
❀just comfortable all around
✿i'm a firm believer in the back position
❀laying flat on the mattress, one arm either around u, or both resting on his belly
✿light sleeper, if i may
❀takes him pretty long to fall asleep as well, but counting ur breath usually calms him and makes it easier
✿u make everything easier for him actually
❀doesn't really care about a blanket, it all really depends on what u prefer while sleeping
✿often awoken by nightmares, but won't ever wake u up or tell u the next day because he thinks it's embarrassing
❀refuses to leave the bed in the morning, but isn't moody at all just very quiet
✿always helps u make breakfast and makes the bed without having to ask him to
❀overall just a calm lover
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♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢
❀without a doubt, a snorer
✿like IM SORRY LADIES but c'mon
❀but not annoyingly loud, just breathy lil snores
✿the problem with it is: he won't move an INCH away from u ever, he's all up in ur business while sleeping
❀doesn't matter how, he's always got to feel u next to him somehow
✿i take him as a sleep talker too, mumbling incoherent words against your neck which only make u laugh tbh
❀akamaru's got his own bed next to the two of u, but some nights he crawls in between ur bodies, practically suffocating u
✿you really don't mind on colder nights, but in summer kiba makes him get off, due to having such a high body temperature already and he doesn't want u to complain even more
❀wore a shirt and pants at the beginning of ur relationship
✿but now??? u'd have to FORCE him to wear anything more than boxers
❀hates when u don't want to cuddle :(( might as well kill him fr
✿why need a blanket when he has you??
❀doesn't leave the bed AT ALL in the morning, u literally have to grab him by the feet and drag him out of it
✿he's a sweetheart, really
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♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢
❀dude HATES cuddling at the beginning of ur relationship, me thinks
✿but fear not, it just takes a bit of convincing from ur side and he's in on it
❀but it's subtle touches really, like holding his hand or having ur feet intertwined
✿if u've had a bad day, he'd definitely play with your hair to make u fall asleep, he's not a diCK
❀grey sweats all the way !!!!!
✿rarely ever wears a shirt, except for when it's cold of course
❀he seems much more like a light sleeper than not, but he's so grouchy when something wakes him up it's a drag really 
✿has to be completely dark and quiet in his room or he won't be able to close one eye
❀always sleeps on the side closest to the door
✿big on talking about both ur days at night because he's a very private person and loves spending time with u ALONE
❀deep talk at 2am?? u can bet on it
✿forehead kisses!!! once u wake up and neither of u want to get up and start ur day
❀he's such an attentive lover in general, i'm actually going insane 
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♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢
❀oh my lovely boy
✿i feel like he wouldn't move a MUSCLE while sleeping
❀sometimes you have to poke him to make sure he's still alive
✿AHEM
❀a light sleeper foshou
✿also ????
❀he would 100% wait for u to fall asleep first
✿would always run his fingertips over your back to make you tired
❀unfortunately, the closest to cuddling u two do, is ur head on his chest
✿he gets sweaty quickly, so he'll often sleep without a shirt (which u don't complain about obviously) and that's the reason why he doesn't necessarily NEED body contact (in this situation only!!)
❀but HUGE PLUS he'll sweet talk you to sleep almost every night 
✿asking about ur day from begin to end
❀he wants to know it ALL
✿in general, he's really big on making you as comfortable as possible before bed
❀would even wait till the morning to go pee because you look so peaceful laying on his chest
✿don't mind him watching u he just thinks ur so pretty ok
❀u wake up to the smell of coffee almost every morning
✿overall, as we been knew, the gentlest gentlemen to perhaps ever gentleman goodbye
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♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢
❀poor baby's the king of light sleepers
✿always ready to jump into battle and protect u if he has to, even if u convince him that ur safe and nothing's going to happen :(
❀casually wears a black tanktop and some sweats, mask and shinobi headband easily reachable on the bedside table at his right side
✿definitely enjoys u playing with his hair too much
❀he prefers to fall asleep with his head either on your chest or tugged just under your chin so he can hear you breathe and ur heart beat
✿he's so tragic oh my days
❀anYWAY light snores but only when he's REALLY gone and u rarely ever see him in this state so,,,,,
✿loves listening to ur stories before falling asleep
❀legs & arms intertwined and allathat 
✿you will never lay in bed without him picking up one of his books at least ONCE
❀it really calms him down u know
✿but start a conversation with him, and he's all urs, book long forgotten next to his mask and headband.
❀always wakes up earlier than u, preparing breakfast with said book between his fingers 
✿(he swears he'll close it once ur awake tho)
❀((he does))
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a/n: AHEM i hope u liked it ???? pls tell me ??? AAAA i will see u beans next time bye bye xx
devider by @enchanthings
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user2772636 · 3 months
Text
Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
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××《☆》××
Transferring schools after moving places for the 6th time, a new opportunity is given; a school for both boys and girls. With a new experience to be dealt with, will you survive a blooming rivalry with one of your classmates, a socialising society, and freshman year? Welcome to Voltaire High.
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Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: Teen boys being teen boys (ykwim), swearing, violence
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Chapter one: Mary Jane's
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I polish my newly bought Mary Jane's, the last on my to-do list before heading to my new school. After I put them on, I get up to go in front of the mirror and fix my hair. I sigh deeply.
A new school, I think to myself. Again.
I grab my satchel and coat, put both on, and make my way outside.
I recently moved here, coming from Paris. I felt disappointed when we moved, feeling a part of me still in that city, but I knew I shouldn't feel that way. I should've expected it. It's now the sixth time we've moved places.
I live in a flat now with my parents and my cat, George, named after the member of The Beatles. My parents are both always at work, leaving me, most of the time, home alone.
I trip on a crack on the sidewalk, making me fall forward and almost hit a girl. She looks my age, has braided blonde hair and fluffy bangs. She just came out of the butcher's with a man. The man is very handsome, tall, neat, wearing a nicely tailored suit. He has a serious expression on his face.
He only glances at me before turning and ushering the blonde girl to follow him. She looks at me for a while more before turning and following the man.
I compose myself, feeling flustered, and I quickly brush it off. I continue to walk. In front of me, I noticed the two people I saw only a few seconds ago. The man walks off, and the girl stands still in her place. I purse my lips, wondering if I should come up to her. I did.
"Is that your father? He seems strict, but I'm only basing off my experience." I say as I stand next to her. She looks at me, a bit surprised. I wouldn't blame her.
"No. He's my brother. He's strict, yes. And it's very annoying." She furrows her brows a bit and groans. I chuckle.
"I'm Y/N. Where are you headed?" I put my hand out for her to shake.
"I'm Michèle. I'm headed to school, actually." She shakes my hand and smiles.
"Oh? Which school? I might be going to the same one."
"Voltaire. I hope you are. Otherwise, I'd be walking in, not knowing anyone but my brother." She cringes at the thought. I chuckle again. She's funny.
"Good thing I'm going there, too. Let's get going, yes? We don't want to draw any more attention." I tilt my head to the direction of the school. She nods.
I lead the way, her following only a few steps behind. The gates are wide open, and my stomach drops. First day of school jitters. The worst feeling ever. And there's boys everywhere. My stomach drops further.
I slow down my pace to be walking next to Michèle. My anxiety radiates off of me, and with my suddenly hightened senses, I feel Michèle's anxiety, too.
We walk past the gates, and all eyes are on us. My spine feels shivers. It's suddenly quiet. I keep my head held high to not give off an awkward stance. Michèle does the opposite.
Every step we take feels slower than usual. I hear whispers around the campus.
'There they are', 'She's pretty', 'Go talk to her!', 'They do have tits', 'Nice ass', 'They're not supposed to be here'.
My ear twitches, but I don't show a reaction on my face. I notice three boys on the bench, but one catches my eye.
He has sandy hair, wire framed glasses, and is sitting with both arms on the back of the backrest. Before I looked away, I saw a faint smirk on his lips.
We head to the board for our assigned rooms. Me and Michèle sigh in relief as we see our names listed to the same teacher.
I feel movement behind me, but before I could turn, a girl pops up next to us. She had short bobbed hair with a blue clip, bright eyes, and a wide smile.
"There aren't even twenty of us." She states. I smile softly. I hear Michèle sigh in joy.
"We thought we were the only girls." She points to the both of us, and I nod along.
"I waited for both of you to come in." A small laugh comes out from all of us. "I'm Simone."
"Michèle." She responds. They wait for me to respond.
"Y/N." I say, and Simone's face lights up. We pause for a while until Simone cuts the silence off.
"It feels like everyone's staring." She says worriedly but still with a smile on her face.
"They are." Me and Michèle say. The girls continue to talk as I look behind me again and see the sandy haired boy talking, or what looks like teasing, another boy. I think to myself, a bully. I grimace. I look away before he notices me staring.
"Are you wearing heels?" All of us look down to stare in awe at Michèle's foot wear.
"I didn't take you as a bold girl, Michèle." I joke, scoffing in amusement.
"My mom didn't say anything. Hopefully, the teachers don't say anything, too." We all laugh, nodding.
"Oh, Y/N. Look at yours. They look new." I look down at my Mary Jane's, smiling to myself.
"Yeah, they are. My parents got them as a moving gift." Simone nods, but Michèle looks confused.
"Moving gift?" She asks.
"They're gifts I receive when we move places. It's sort of a token of appreciation for being understanding from my parents." They both nod.
"Have you talked to the other girls?" Simone asks, glancing at them. As we all glanced behind, I noticed the boy that was being teased walk to our direction.
"Three were in my electives class, but we're not friends." I transfer my eyes to the group of girls. We look back at each other. Michèle looks to Simone. "Did you go to a Catholic school?"
"No, I was from Algiers. I got here a month ago. I don't know anyone." Simone smiles innocently. Their gazes shift to me. "What about you, Y/N? Are you old or new?"
"I'm new. I moved from Paris." I smile a bit sadly.
"Wow, Paris? I've always wanted to see the tower. Is it bigger than they say?" They start to ask me questions, and I answer happily. I cut them off once the boy I noticed walks closer.
"There's a boy coming. Stand still." They quickly shut up and look back at the board. I hold in a laugh.
"Oh no." The boy says, disappointed.
"Something wrong?" Michèle asks, curious by the boys' exclamation.
"My homeroom teacher is Bluebeard." He responds, now looking at us.
Me, Michèle, and Simone look at each other, confused.
Just then, a new girl walks in. She's wearing a blue dress and headband, her blonde hair swaying in the wind. She sticks out like a diamond in the rough. Boys exclaim, making the same comments they did when me and Michèle walked in, but more vulgar. Distaste has masked my face.
"Do you know her?" God bless Michèle's innocent soul. The boy shakes his head.
The bell rings, and I hear a series of groans. I sigh. The day has officially started.
××《☆》××
I make the lecture fade out of my ears, staring at the stage with no thought in my head. I feel a stare on my left
I turn my head and am met with eyes staring dead straight into mine. The glasses cover the way he'slooking at me, so i can't read how he's feeling, but his eyes are dark and hooded.
I look away slowly, a bit creeped out.
××《☆》××
I stare out the window, watching the trees sway in the breeze and the birds chirp, flapping their wings.
I snap back to reality when Ms. Giraud changes the seating arrangement of the boy we talked to earlier.
The boy with the sandy hair whispers something to him and makes him trip. The class laughs. I stare quietly and think, what an asshole.
"And you, girl with the Mary Jane's. What's your name?" Ms. Giraud says, but it feels like she's screaming. I stand up.
"Y/N Pardine." I respond. I feel the class's eyes on me. A certain pair of glasses covered ones make me shiver.
"Ms. Pardine, what's outside the window that's caught your attention?" I stare at her, a bit annoyed.
"Nothing, Ms. Giraud. I'm sorry I got distracted." There's a voice in my head saying fuck you.
She nods. Thank god. "Sit down. See class? That's how you should respond to your teacher." The lecture fades again as I stare off into space at my desk.
××《☆》××
I learned a few names after class. First, the blue dress girls' name is Annick, then the boy who always gets teased is Pichon, and last and very much the least, Joseph Descamps, the boy with the sandy hair.
××《☆》××
As we walk to our next class, someone bumps into my shoulder harshly. I look in front of me and see Descamps running with his friends. A teacher shouts something like 'no running in the halls'. I glare at his back, and he turns around, and he's smiling. Maybe it was because he was laughing, or maybe he was smiling at me. I stick to the first one and glare harder.
××《☆》××
We sit with the same arrangement as the last class. I tap my Mary Jane's on the hardwood floor and admire the way it shines with the sunlight hitting it.
"Excuse me, sir." I hear someone say. I turn my head and see both Descamps and Annick raising their hand.
"Yes?" The teacher asked. Descamps glances at me, and I furrow my brows. He smirks and looks away.
"I think she raised her hand." He states. I breathe out through my nose, a silent laugh. He's smiling again. Is he always this happy?
The teacher gives Annick a side look. Confusion covers my face. Does he think the girls aren't supposed to be here, too?
He lets her talk, and she does. She explains the meaning of the words written on the board. I look at her, impressed. She's pretty and smart. Good for her.
I see Michèle look to her left. I look, too. The boys pass notes and whisper incoherently. I keep a close eye on them. They pass the note to one boy, Laubrac, who looks like he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Give me that." The teacher states. "Give it to me."
Laubrac gets up, moving to the front of the classroom. The teacher opens up the note, then looks back at Laubrac.
"You think this is funny?" The teacher holds up the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac says in defence, but with a calm tone.
"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?" The teacher waves the paper in the air.
I turn my head back to the boys in the back. Descamps is chewing on the tip of his pen, acting like he doesn't know anything. His blinks under his glasses, and I squint. His hazel eyes connect with mine, and I look away swiftly.
"Your name?" The teacher asks as he folds the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac states again.
"'It wasn't me'. All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. It wasn't me-"
"Laubrac. My name is Laubrac."
The teacher pauses. "Alright, Laubrac. Are you the boy from foster care? A nobody's son trying to graduate? How amusing." Gasps are heard.
"Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system?" He didn't wait for Laubrac to respond. "I won't let a bastard like you disrupt my class. Get out."
"But he didn't do anything." Michèle gets up from her seat to exclaim. I stare at her in shock.
"Nobody taught you how to raise your hand in your all girls' school, Ms. Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the dean." This teacher is getting on my nerves. I glance at him with squinted eyes.
"Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention, too." He points to the door. Michèle and Laubrac start walking. I stare at her worriedly. I lean over the desk to talk to Simone.
"Is she gonna be okay?" I ask her. She turns to look at me with creased eyebrows.
"I think so. Her uncle's the dean, after all." I nod and sit back down.
I glance behind me and catch framed hazel eyes staring. He looks away quickly. I stare back to the front.
××《☆》××
Me and Michèle are walking outside when we hear a man call out her name. Before we could turn, he grabs her arm and leads her to the side of the building. I stood in my place, waiting for her instead of going with when I noticed it was just her brother. I walk to lean against the building, gathering my surroundings. I hear pebbles being stepped on and think nothing of it, assuming it was Simone. It wasn't.
"Good morning." I turn my head, smiling, then drop it when I'm met with a chest. I tilt my head upward, and the sunlight hits my eyes. There's a smile on his face still.
"Why are you alone? Where's your friend?" Descamps interrogates. I stare blankly.
"It doesn't matter to you." I turn my head again. I feel him adjust, putting an arm against the wall of the building.
"I know it shouldn't. But seeing a pretty girl like you all alone worries me. I can't let the other boys get to you before I could." He lowers his voice, dropping his head to reach my height.
I look back up at him. I raise my eyebrows. "How many girls have you used that on?"
He laughs. He's laughing. Why is he laughing?
"You're witty. I like that." I roll my eyes at his words. I notice Michèle in the middle of the grounds with Simone, and I sigh in relief. I walk away from Descamps and sprint to them, trying to keep myself composed.
As I get to them, Simone is running towards the bathroom. I catch my breath and shout.
"Simone, that's not-" Simone squeals as she runs back to us. She's laughing. I smile widely, amused.
"It was the boys' bathroom. I just saw-" We start walking but stop as a boy calls out 'What was that!?'.
"Sorry!" Simone repeats, and we all laugh.
××《☆》××
We all sit and talk in the lunch hall. I look out the window, barely touching my food.
Loud clattering catches my attention. I turn my head and see Pichon's hands in Annick's food. I grimace. There are boys laughing in the background. Pichon says a quick sorry to Annick and walks away, clearly embarrassed. Someone asks Annick if she wants a new plate.
"That idiot should give her his." Michèle says, partially mad. I glance to the boy, and it's Descamps. Of course it is. A series of ooh's are heard in the room. Descamps glances at me, then puts his eyes on Michèle again.
"Does the dean's niece have a problem?" He puts his arm on the backrest of his seat, and the other arm leaning on the table. "What did you tell your uncle? 'Laubrac is innocent. Descamps is the bad one'. The dean's niece and the bastard. A new love story." The hall laughs. I glare at him.
"Why don't you tell us what you wrote on that note?" Michèle bites back.
"It was a drawing. I'll show you." Descamps says calmly. He grabs a bottle and starts drawing on his scrambled eggs. I furrow my brows, already knowing what was gonna happen.
"It's a portrait." He holds up his plate, and his eggs now display a woman's bare chest. I scrunch my nose in digust. The hall laughs yet again. Words come piling out my mouth before I know it.
"It's too bad you'll only ever see them in pictures, not in real life. Women would never fawn over that small dick of yours." I say, and the hall erupts with impressed sounds. He raises his eyebrows. Simone holds up a sausage.
"Does this remind you of anything?" She grabs the other end of the sausage and breaks it in half. I laugh. The hall ooh's again. They start banging on the tables, and it catches a teachers attention.
Descamps glances back at us and glares at Michèle. His eyes travel to mine, and a spark of mischief flashes in his framed eyes. My brows crease.
××《☆》××
The bell rings, and students walk into their classrooms. Me, Michèle, and Simone are walking to our class.
I stare out the windows, seeing the busy streets of the afternoon. The girls are talking about a man named 'Alain Delon' when Michèle opens the door and a tub of water drops on her. I gasp.
The boys are laughing. I look at Michèle in worry. I tried to look for something to cover her up, but our teacher came first. She looks at Michèle, then looks at the room full of boys. She gets rid of her coat and tells someone to keep an eye on the class.
I walk inside, standing in shock near my table at the back at what happened. When I came back to my senses, Descamps was drawing boobs on the board, saying some things I couldn't hear with my unfocused mind.
Before I could walk over to him and give him a beating, Michèle's brother, Jean Pierre, walks into the classroom and starts punching the boys.
The others try to stop him, but he keeps punching. I stare at the scene, unable to do anything.
Descamps's eyes move from the fight to me, and I see emotions flashing in them. Worry, stress, fear, and regret. His eyes continue to stay on me when he gets punched. I cover my mouth in shock. I run near.
I pick up his glasses, and there's a crack on one of the frames. My heart drops when I hear whimpering.
I turn around and see Descamps on the floor, hand cupping his eye. I hadn't noticed the dean until he was kneeling next to him.
"My eye! I can't see." Tears well up. I feel thundering emotions.
My ears ring, and I blur everything out. I can still hear him whimpering. My eyes travel around his shaking body, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I feel like falling.
"Pardine. Take him to the office and call an ambulance." The dean tells me, and I snap back into reality. I quickly go to Descamps and grab his shoulders, ushering him to stand. There's blood seeping out of his fingers. I try not to sob.
He probably thought I was the nurse because he leans into me and relaxes a bit. I sigh shakily. I rub his back with my palm and guide him to the office.
××《☆》××
The ambulance was called, and he was taken to the hospital. I sit on the stairs, watching the ambulance drive away. I sigh deeply and place my head on my hands. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm myself.
Why did I help? He's bullied my classmates, especially Pichon and Michèle. I furrow my eyebrows. Fuck.
××《☆》××
I knock on the door, and I'm granted to come in. I quickly grab my things, ignoring the teachers questions. Michèle and Simone lean over to me. Simone talks first.
"Are you okay?" She asks worriedly. I shake my head no.
"I don't feel well. I think I'm gonna take the rest of the day off." Simone nods, understanding. Michèle looks confused but brushes it off.
"Okay. Get home safe. We'll see you tomorrow?" Michèle asks. I nod.
"Sure. See you tomorrow." I leave the room and head to the dean's office, asking for an excuse slip.
××《☆》××
As I lie on my bed petting George, I recall the events. Meeting the girls, talking to Descamps, Descamps embarrassing Michèle, witnessing Descamps go blind, calling the hospital for him. I sigh again. That boy will be the death of me.
I glance at my Mary Jane's. There's a scratch on it. Only when I got home I realised that Descamps stepped on it when he pushed past me. Fuck him and his face.
I hate him, I say in my head. I hate him and will continue to hate him. Two eyes or not.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter one: Mary Jane's
Next- Chapter two: My eye only
××《☆》××
End of Chapter one, i really hope you guys liked it. It's my first time writing in a long while. When I watched Mixte, i was obsessed with joseph and was disappointed with the lost opportunity of an enemies to lovers. So i made one with a reader insert because i also couldn't find a lot of reader insert for joseph in it. Joseph and reader will get together very soon. Please dm this acc for recommendations. Thank you for reading!!!
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deesblanketfort · 2 months
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Sick and regressed ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶ 
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Well, while I'm writting this I'm bedridden (likely with covid), and for some reason I really want to spend my sick days regressed and take something good out of it at least.
Getting comfy!
🧦: Pajamas time! Is there anything more regressor-coded than cozy printed pajamas, an animal kigurumi or onesie? I'd say no. And since I'm staying on bed, I'm surely wearing those all day long.
🛏️: Bed setup! When you're bedridden, a bed table ends up being really useful in case you want to do stuff that requires a flat surface. If you have one of those, lucky you! I, however had to improvise with a smooth wooden board standing on my lap, therefore any kind of long, resilient and flat surface can do the job just fine.
🧦: Blanket fort! Alternatively, if you're able to roam around your house or have someone to help, you can build a blanket fort over your bed or a comfy surface to stay in!
🛏️: Sick gear! Runny nose? Bring tissues. Got a fever? Make a cold damp towel for your forehead. Tummy aches or localized pain? Make a hot water compress. And make sure to keep track of the meds you're taking, of course.
🧦: Get your plushies! Since what I got is very contagious close contact with anyone is out of the table, but my stuffies are completely immune to sickness and ready to cuddle! (I'll have to wash them afterwards to disinfect them though)
Games and activities!
🎮: Viddy games! Either on computer, phone or a console (handheld preferred), videogames are perfectly stationary and don't require much movement from your part.
🖍️: Table games! Table games are also stationary and can be played right from your bed if you have a bed table, although most games need other people to play with you, your plushies can serve this purpose.
🎮: Play pretend! Playing pretend can be limited when you're bedridden, but there are some scenarios you're perfectly able to do! Such as pretending you're a shop owner and your stuffies are the clients, pretending your stuffies are your doctors/nurses taking care of you, or vice versa. Things like tea parties and pretend schools are still on the table!
🖍️: Arts and crafts! Being sick won't stop me from wanting to draw and color, since I can do it from my bed anyways! Aside from drawing and coloring, I might as well do some collage and paper craft, just might need help to clean up afterwards.
🎮: Cartoon time! No better opportunity to (re)watch your favorite cartoons than when you're sick, bedridden and bored, right? And since this brings me comfort, here are some cartoon episodes that center on being sick: Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound (Bluey), Steve Gets The Sniffles (Blues Clues), Bear Flu (We Bare Bears), Doctor Daisy M.D (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), Arthur's Chicken Pox (Arthur)
Snack time!
🍼: Hot drinks! Specially if you're with a cold or a sore throat in general, hot drinks such as hot cocoa and tea are perfect for warming up an icky throat.
🧁: Spices for a sore throat! Like mint, honey, ginger and lemon. I'm sure there's plentiful of drinks you can make using these!
🍼: Give preference to healthy snacks and meals! Like fruits and veggies, yogurt, noodles, soup or sandwiches. Bonus points if they're arranged in a fun shape (animal, plant, star, etc)!
🧁: Keep your appetite in check! It's pretty common to lose your appetite when sick, therefore I'd say it's ideal to keep your meals smaller (and sometimes eat more often) than usual.
Taking care of yourself!
🧸: Stay hydrated! Water is always good, and if you're sick you likely need it more than usual, drinking from sippy cups, baby bottles, straw cups or any kind of fun themed cup is usually more fun and encouraging than boring adult cups.
🧶: Keep your temperature in check as well! Besides from checking if you have a fever ever so often, it's also good to keep yourself warm with blankets and heating if your body feels cold, or alternatively, turning on fans and using lighter sheets instead of blankets if you're too hot.
🧸: Beware the germs! If you got a contagious disease (like me), make sure to properly wash and disinfect anything you bring to your mouth such as pacis, teethers, bottles and cutlery before and after using them. Plus, it's important to wear a mask or ask others to wear a mask when near you as well.
🧶: Resting is key! Some of these days I'm too tired to do anything above, and I'd rather just nap the whole day, and that's okay! Sometimes being sick means not being able to do anything at all and it's important to have your extended napping time to get better.
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thedustyleaves · 5 months
Note
Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but I really love how your illustrations have such a cohesive color palette, how do you pick your colors to have a certain theme without looking monochromatic?
(In your breakdown on the saloon/western BP illustration, you mentioned that the overall color was reddish brown so you added blue to the main group to set them apart. But like how did you decide on which reddish brown colors to use for the flats?)
Thank you!! Your art is really expressive and the colors always work so well in the illustration. I’m always in awe of your pics
That’s an excellent question! My drawings actually start out pretty monochromatic because I tend to put most of my effort into the lighting and shading part to help differentiate where I want people to look.
For all of my pieces, I want my characters to be in focus. So no matter what, I always have to keep their main colors in mind and make sure their outfits and the background don’t clash with them (Kain’s red hair tends to be a problem, pft).
For my flats, I generally work with two main colors that tend to contrast each other and then I mix a lot of neutrals around them. (Sometimes the main colors are in the light and shading itself, but I’ll just focus on the flats!).
Sometimes, I will change the hue of their colors. So while Kain has bright orange hair, I will dull it down if it overwhelms the piece or doesn’t fit with the tone - like I did for the cowboy drawing - but never so much that it no longer looks like him.
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With the cowboy drawing as an example, if I strip it down to my flats, it instantly becomes very dull and monochromatic. I really enjoy working with these colors because they’re easy on the eyes (or my eyes specifically) and I can see the difference in subtle hues a lot better than if they were very high in contrast. I like working with subtleties when I want background characters to become a single unit but still be separated as individual people.
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When I picked the colors for the background, I wanted to separate the characters from the walls. Therefore, I kept the walls red and gold, and the characters brown - they’re still within the same warm-colored family, but they’re far enough away from each other that they don’t become one with each other. I also like to not have clothes from different characters blend together, so overlapping colours can't be the same. I made one coat lighter than the other, the glove warmer than the dark jacket, and so on.
(their coats are also in the same realm as the green/gold colour of the details for the curtains and the frames on the walls)
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For the paintings I actually chose to put a bit of blue and green in to help create some interest for the main characters and keep your eyes around that area, as it matches the blue they’re wearing, just a whole lot darker. It also makes them pop just enough so they look interesting against the wall, but not enough to overshadow the main characters
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I know, because of the way I work with layers, that when I add my overlays, I automatically brighten and saturate the colors a lot. It’s a lot easier for me to saturate something “dull” and move it into all kinds of hues than saturating something already high in contrast and then trying to force it into a new color theme.
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But because of this, I usually have to go back and change the colors I work with constantly while the overlays are on. Since the overlays don’t know what sort of materials they’re laying on top of, everything gets lighter and washed out, so dark skin tones, hair, and clothes have to be corrected one by one afterward. If I were to remove the overlays after I corrected it to make it feel like a dark blue outfit on Raki, it’s basically just a black void now; but with the overlay, it’s a dark blue outfit. Before that, he simple blended in with the background too much and he didn’t feel like he was a part of the group either. 
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I always try to put down colors how I imagine they’re going to look like, unaffected by light, but I’m also naturally drawn toward more earthy and warm tones, so all of my color choices will tend to lean that way.
Here’s another example of main colours vs. neutrals; the main colours are red and green/turquoise, with dark browns and greys to encapsulate them, and gold for accents or to make certain things pop (the chair, Dakon’s dark coat, etc.).
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I never want them all to wear the exact same color, but I want them to feel connected and be in the same 'colour family,' so Dakon and Kain have nearly the same dark red/brown, and Christie and Raki have nearly the same 'bright'/red.
The blacks and browns, I’ve kept warm as well, so they stay within that realm of red. I also make sure that none of them are too close to Kain’s hair since he’s in the middle of the piece, and I want your eyes to be drawn toward the middle, and his orange hair helps with that.
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The paintings I basically do not care too much about, as long as each individual painting has a single dominating colour. I mute them down with a darker overlay and ensure they don’t have strong shadows and light, so they get pushed to the background, so despite being a bunch of different colours, each painting feels like a solid color and they’re still cast in the same light as the rest of the piece, so they feel like they belong in the same room.
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I try to help move the eye around the piece as well, so I keep the big painting sort of in the same realm of red and brown as the main characters, because it’s so big it shouldn’t dominate with a new color and force interest toward it. The blue/purple ones melt in with the background as they’re close to the turquoise background, but without disappearing, the yellow ones work sort of like the gold accents and blend in with the frames, and the green paintings at the top give the illusion of a monochrome fade, so everything gets more eerie and green as the image goes up - there’s also a subtle green fade that affects the gold accents from the top down, to enhance that effect.
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This is just a few examples, if there are any pieces in particular you were thinking of, and it’s neither of these, just let me know, and I can break those down as well!
Thank you for the question; I hope I answered it somewhat, and thank you for the kind words! <3
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