#i have a stand and it helps but something more eye-level would be ideal

[xannerz]

✅ did some tank maintenance and didnt end up drinking aquarium water when i had to manually start the siphon for the 29gal 🎊

✅ 5gal should be ready for a new betta in around another week. i went back and forth on taking the whole thing down after weeks of it just sitting fishless but i think i'm ready to try again.

❌ got too used to drawing on asp on the ipad and now drawing on csp desktop feels 10x harder than it should. i'm rusty, i think my hand-eye coordination is completely thrown off. i never thought this would happen and as happy as i am to have finally found a rhythm w the thing, i dont want it to be my default program bc the ipad's fucking w my neck and wrist. yes i do stretches yes i take breaks but it's still not great for my posture/carpal overall

[joonie-beanie]

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs. 

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!” 

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—” 

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks. 

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ” 

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles. 

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->

[collaredsoldat]

Shower Suds.

summary: You give Soldat his first bath out of captivity.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Non-sexual nudity | Mentions of scars and injuries | Self-Harm mention | Post!HTP and abuse | PTSD symptoms & behavior

a/n: This wasn't supposed to be so long, but somehow it always happens when I write about him. Something sorta comforting with some recovery thrown in there. Unedited because I worked on this for so long lol ignore mistakes please! ;; wc: 5.8k

Filthy. You felt bad, really.

There was a lot of problems to tackle with Soldat's condition, but first thing's first...the soldier needed a bath. Badly.

He was dirty, his hair knotted, matted, greasy, his skin was covered in sweat and dirt, probably blood under the black uniform he still wore. The poor man stunk, and he didn't seem to even notice. Or care.

You found yourself in a bit of a hard situation, unsure of the best approach to cleanse him. A bath seemed problematic; he would essentially be marinating in his own grime, which was far from ideal. Would he sit for that long? Would he fight you? You weren't entirely positive.

On the other hand, a shower presented its own set of challenges. Your observations over the past days had revealed his struggle with prolonged standing. He didn't seem to want to stand for very long and often sat or laid down when he could. The majority of his time was spent either huddled in the furthest corner of the room or barricaded within the confines of the small closet, as if seeking refuge from an unseen threat.

As you mulled over the options, weighing the pros and cons of each, you ultimately figured a shower would be better in terms of cleanliness…if anything, you could have him sit in the bottom of the tub. Better than sitting in dirty water with the increased possibility of infection.

But there was one problem. How the hell would you get him into the bathroom in the first place?

You took a breath in, preparing for the worst, and went to the room he stayed in. It was the spare room in your apartment you barely used, but had been furnished as a bedroom in case someone you knew needed a place for a night or something. Not that you ever figured your friends would want to stay with you, you didn't have many to begin with. When you came in, your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him, spotting him huddled up in the corner like expected.

He didn't look up at you when you walked in, his gaze fixed downward and obscured by the curtain of his long, unkempt hair. The stillness that enveloped him was almost unnerving. Only when you took a few steps closer did he react, his head snapping up at you. His eyes bright blue against the dark, messy ink that surrounded them, like he tried to smudge off the black paint but failed.

You took another step forward, your movements slow and deliberate. You could see the change in his demeanor immediately with your approach, even as careful as it was; his breathing became more rapid and shallow, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated pace like he was preparing to be harmed.

"It's okay," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand extended slightly, palm open to try to soothe him. Carefully, you lowered yourself to his level, bending your knees until you were crouching before him. This position, you hoped, would make you appear less imposing and more approachable.

In the few days he had been in your care, you had begun to discern patterns in his behavior, learning to recognize the subtle cues that indicated his comfort level. You had started to understand which actions he perceived as threatening and which ones helped him feel more at ease. It was a delicate balance, one that required patience and constant observation, but you were determined to create an environment where he could begin to feel safe and secure.

"I think...a bath sounds nice. Doesn't it?" You asked him softly, smiling slightly to show you weren't intending to do any sort of harm. "It will feel good to clean off all that dirt...nice and warm water too...you've been shivering." You noted how cold he appeared to be, he was still latched in his cold clothes from when you found him. You were surprised the uniform kept in water.

He remained motionless, prompting you to reluctantly take a step backwards to leave him alone, you’d try later. As you turned away, the faint sound of movement caught your attention. Glancing back, you saw the soldier had risen to his feet, his eyes fixed upon you with an air of expectancy. "Would you like to come and shower?" you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Да." His voice was a harsh, grating sound, reminiscent of shattered glass scraping against parched earth. It was as though he hadn't uttered a word or tasted a drop of water in an eternity. Despite the brevity and roughness of his reply, it carried a weight of affirmation. You found yourself oddly relieved by this simple acknowledgment. It wasn't much, but in that moment, it felt like a significant step forward. The fact that he had agreed seemed like a small victory.

You had him in the bathroom. That was a good thing.

You pivoted slowly to face him, your gaze carefully scanning his imposing figure. For behaving so meekly, he was an intimidating body to be this close to. Your eyes meticulously traced the contours of his suit, lingering on the intricate array of tactical belts and buckles that adorned his outfit. Each piece seemed to serve a specific purpose, hinting at the dangerous nature of his profession. Your hand tentatively reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they approached one of the sturdy buckles.

Your action was met with an immediate and startling response from the soldier. His metal hand shot up with inhuman speed, grasping your wrist tightly, the cold metal a stark contrast to your warm skin. His hold was firm and unyielding, like a vice grip, yet it wasn't painful.

As his hand clasped around your wrist, his entire body tensed, transforming into a living statue. You couldn't help but flinch slightly at the abruptness of his reaction, your body instinctively recoiling even as his grip held you in place.

"I-It's okay, I promise," you managed to say, your voice deliberately calm and steady to avoid startling him further. You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I'm just going to help you undress for the shower... I promise I won't hurt you or do anything you're not comfortable with. We're just getting you cleaned up, that's all."

Your words didn't seem to have much effect at first. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and his jaw flexed with tension. You remained patient, maintaining a soothing tone and open body language. "Take all the time you need," you added softly. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. It’s just you and me." His eyes scanned you intently, searching for any hint of deception or ill intent. You met his gaze steadily, allowing him to see the sincerity in your eyes. After what felt like an eternity, his grip on your wrist slowly loosened until he finally released you completely.

Second time's the charm. You reached out with steady hands, your fingers finding the first buckle on his tactical suit. With careful precision, you unfastened it, the metallic click echoing softly in the bathroom. Then, you moved to the next one, and the next, methodically working your way through each fastening. The process was slow but deliberate, each buckle giving way under your patient touch until, finally, the last one came undone. You paused, surveying your handiwork as the suit lay open, no longer confining him.

With the buckles undone, your attention turned to the decked out belt encircling his hips. You grasped the front, feeling the sturdy material beneath your fingers. You pulled the belt free from the thick buckle, the black leather sliding smoothly through the loops. As you removed the belt, you took care to lay it gently on the floor beside you, the heavy belt colliding with the tile was bound to make him jump and you didn’t want that.

The belt now removed, you returned your focus to the suit itself. Your hands found the straps, and you began to loosen them, pulling them out slowly and methodically. His uniform reminded you of a rehashed straight jacket, the uniform nearly acting just as one. When the tight suit gradually relinquished its grip, you noticed an immediate change in the soldier’s demeanor. The restrictive pressure eased, and you could see his chest rise and fall more freely. It was as if a weight had been lifted, allowing him to breathe deeply for the first time in who knows how long.

You watched, a mix of concern and relief washing over you, as he took in several deep breaths. The realization hit you then, a jolt of disbelief and worry. The suit had been so constricting that it had barely allowed him to breathe properly. The thought was infuriating. What kind of protection was that? What twisted logic had led to the creation of gear that endangered its wearer almost as much as it shielded them? You found yourself shaking your head in disbelief. What the hell...

"There we go...good..." You praised calmly, your voice a soothing whisper in the quiet room. He stood before you, now shirtless, his muscular frame tense with anticipation as he awaited your next move. Your eyes couldn't help but linger on his exposed torso, taking in every detail of his battle-worn body.

His skin was a canvas marked by the harsh realities of his past. Bruises in various stages of healing painted his flesh in a morbid palette of purples, yellows, and greens. Fresh cuts, angry and red, intermingled with older, silvery scars, creating a chaotic tapestry across his skin. Each mark had a different cause, accidental, intentional, self inflicted.

Your gaze was inevitably drawn to the most prominent feature: the junction where flesh met metal at his shoulder. The scar tissue surrounding his prosthetic arm was a sight that made your heart ache. It wasn't a clean, surgical line as one might expect, but rather a jagged, angry border that spoke of crude methods and little regard for the body it was attached to. The metal seemed to dig cruelly into his flesh, as if it were trying to consume more of him. You couldn't help but wonder about the pain he must have endured during the procedure, imagining how they had torn him apart with brutal efficiency, prioritizing function over comfort or aesthetics.

Despite the visible evidence of his suffering, he stood tall and stoic, awaiting your next move with a mixture of trust and trepidation in his eyes.

You offered him a gentle, comforting smile, you were acutely aware of his attempts to appear strong, but the reality of his fear was unmistakable. In that spare room, his demeanor reminded you of a cornered animal, flinching and retreating whenever the door creaked open. He cowered from you, even when you tried to give him water to drink. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, you didn’t know much of what happened just yet, but you knew whatever it was must’ve been utterly horrific.

"I'm going to help you out of your trousers now," you explained in a soft, reassuring tone. "Then we'll get you into the shower. The warm water will help you feel better, I promise." You paused, giving him a moment to process your words before adding, "Is that okay with you?"

He remained motionless. His lack of response was telling - not a nod, not a word, not even a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. He simply stood there, statuesque, as if bracing himself for whatever was to come next. The stillness was almost eerie, so you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to come. You truly hoped he wouldn't begin to put up a fight randomly, you knew you couldn't take him if he did.

You grasped the zipper of his pants and slowly pulled it down, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room. As the fabric loosened, you gently tugged at the waistband, shuffling them down his muscular thighs and allowing the pants to fall around his ankles. Without a word, he stepped out of them, his movements controlled as he jerked his foot to get the leg of the pants off completely.

His gaze remained fixed on you, his expression betraying no hint of discomfort or self-consciousness at his state of undress. You found yourself averting your eyes, a mix of respect for his privacy and your own sudden shyness causing you to look away.

Turning your attention to the shower, you reached out and adjusted the taps, your hand testing the water until it reached a comfortably warm temperature, you could always adjust it upon request. The sound of cascading water filled the bathroom, creating a soothing ambiance. Once satisfied with the water's warmth, you looked back towards him, your arm extending in a welcoming gesture towards the bathtub. "Come on," you encouraged, your voice soft and inviting, "it's nice and warm." A gentle smile played on your lips, your expression meant to convey comfort and reassurance.

But even with your efforts, he remained motionless, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot where he stood. His lack of movement prompted you to maintain your encouraging demeanor, your smile unwavering as you waited patiently for him to make a decision.

The steam from the shower began to fill the room, creating a misty atmosphere that hung between you, yet he showed no signs of stepping forward or retreating. He just stood there, planted like a tree. You frowned, seeing that he wasn't going to budge.

"Hey, it's okay," you said softly, "It's just water, and it's nice and warm. I promise it will feel so good. You've been shivering for a while now, and I bet the warmth will be really comforting for your cold skin. There's nothing to be afraid of." You continued to encourage him, your tone patient and understanding.

The soldier's reaction was tense and wary. His metal arm plates made a series of soft clicking sounds as he shifted his arm and adjusted his stance, his body language radiating discomfort and distrust, maybe even a hint of growing agitation. The way he eyed the water, you could have sworn he thought you were about to subject him to some form of aquatic torture. His entire demeanor screamed of deep-seated fear and suspicion.

"It's alright, really... Look, see?" You demonstrated by reaching out and touching the water, letting your fingers trail through the warm liquid. You made sure he could clearly see that the water didn't cause you any harm or discomfort. Could he be afraid of the water? The concept seemed strange, but then again, you didn't really know or understand the full extent of his experiences or traumas. You had made so much progress with him already, and now all that remained was for him to sit under the water and allow you to wash him. It seemed so simple, and yet you could see the monumental struggle playing out behind his eyes.

He finally seemed to respond when he observed that you remained unharmed by the water, and he cautiously approached, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes wore wariness with a flicker of curiosity, carefully scanning your form and ensuring you made no abrupt or threatening gestures. As he inched closer, his body language betrayed a conflicting desire for comfort and an instinctive need for self-preservation.

Once he had convinced himself of a relative level of safety, he gingerly stepped into the bath. The warmth of the water seemed to catch him off guard, and with an almost childlike lack of grace, he unceremoniously lowered himself into a sitting position with a loud thud and for a moment, he appeared startled by his own actions.

Now fully seated on the bottom of the tub, he allowed the soothing warmth of the water to cascade down his dirt-encrusted body. The grime that had accumulated over time began to loosen and swirl around him, running down his body and creating murky patterns at the bottom of the textured bathtub.

He sat motionless, gradually acclimating to the comforting warmth of the water cascading down his back in a gentle, soothing shower. It was foreign to him, a luxury he had been denied for far too long. His time with HYDRA had been bereft of such simple comforts; the organization was a cruel and unforgiving entity, more akin to a heartless taskmaster than a nurturing presence.

His experiences with something as harmless as water was vastly different to what you were treating him with now - he was subjected to harsh, icy streams forcefully directed at him, the intense pressure through the hose so severe it felt as though it was stripping away layers of his skin.

He remembers being forcibly submerged by his handlers, a cruel and twisted game that shattered his expectations of a simple, cleansing bath. What should have been a moment of respite transformed into a nightmarish struggle for survival, where he was forced to submit to their ruthless whims.

The memory of sharp, abrasive bristles tearing at his skin and the application of painful, saline substances lingers. He didn’t want to think about the unnecessary groping he encountered either, something he wished he forgot along with his life during the chair’s wipes.

These traumatic encounters left an indelible mark on his psyche, turning what should have been a basic human necessity into a source of fear and anxiety. The handlers' sadistic approach to something as fundamental as personal hygiene served as a constant reinforcement of their control over every aspect of his existence, even the most intimate and essential.

For him, the act of bathing became synonymous with vulnerability, pain, and the complete loss of autonomy, a far cry from the soothing, rejuvenating experience it was meant to be.

This gentle treatment you were providing was so different from the abusive handling he had endured in HYDRA, it almost caused him to panic, the feigning comforts he were offered by handlers before tricked him too many times, and he refused to let his guard down.

His glacial eyes gazed up at you, the poor man looked absolutely pitiful under the steamy water, his once greasy hair now thoroughly soaked as rivulets ran down the contours of his entire body. You took a breath and exhaled out a soft sigh, your hand slowly reaching for your own body wash. You didn't have any products specifically designed for men, so your expensive shampoo would have to suffice until you went shopping.

You pumped the bottle twice, watching as the clear, slightly viscous shampoo pooled into your open palm and the refreshing scent of cucumber and mint permeated the humid air, filling your nostrils with its crisp, clean aroma. You turned and addressed him softly, "Alright, I'm going to wash your hair now. Just try to relax and sit still for me, okay? This might feel a bit cold at first, but I promise it'll feel good once I start massaging it in."

The soldier regarded you with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying only a hint of that fight-or-flight instinct, his mind was reeling as he battled the urge to respond to your presence. You knew he had the strength to easily break your arm if he chose to, so you tried your best to be as slow and careful as possible. Your fingers delicately threaded through his hair, methodically working the shampoo into a rich lather. You watched as the suds multiplied and foamed, the soapy shampoo pure white on top and slowly stained the closer it was to his scalp.

You noticed that every so often he would flinch ever so slightly or instinctively pull away from your hands. You wondered if he had hidden injuries or tender spots on his scalp, or bruises or cuts concealed beneath his hair, or maybe knots of tension that had formed from prolonged stress or blunt impacts. His hair must’ve been yanked around, his scalp was extremely tender and while you did your best to soothingly massage, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you hoped because of the discomfort there.

"It's okay, I understand it might be a bit uncomfortable. I’m just getting all that pesky dirt and grime out." You spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone, moving a little bit quicker so you could rinse and move on. After thoroughly rinsing his hair, you applied conditioner in the same manner as the shampoo, and then rinsed it out again. He looked much better now, his hair was now clean, wet, and sleek, with a smooth texture and a noticeable shine. It was so much better than before, and it had to feel better too.

Your hand extended under the rain of water, dampening a soft, handheld washcloth and applying a generous amount of body wash to it. You worked the cloth until it produced a rich lather. The soldier moved which caught your eye, you looked up at him and saw he had recoiled, his gaze fixed warily on the washcloth. He became noticeably slower and more hesitant, his eyes widening slightly as he regarded the cloth with apparent apprehension, as if it posed a threat. You furrowed your brow at his reaction to the cloth, he looked at it like you held a weapon of some kind.

"Hey, it’s alright…this won’t hurt. It’s just a cloth, see? A cloth with some soap," you said softly, you felt so torn up about his reaction to the simplest of things. "I won't hurt you, I promise, I'm just going to wash you a bit...get all that dirt and blood off you." You raised your hand holding the washcloth in a placating gesture. “It’s warm, it will feel good scrubbing off all that dirt, you’ll be nice and clean.”

Gradually, he relented and shifted backwards to where he had been sitting, permitting you to gently glide the damp cloth across his skin, meticulously removing every trace of grime from his body. After a few minutes of washing him, you noticed he was beginning to find comfort in the experience. His eyelids drooped, and his head dipped down slightly, a tired expression settling over his features as he succumbed to the soothing sensation of your ministrations. He wasn’t exactly serene, but he was too drowsy to focus on much else other than the feeling of the rag gliding over his back and flesh arm.

You adjusted him and you tended to his metal arm, diligently working the cloth between the intricate plates and joints of titanium, ensuring that no speck of dirt remained. You weren’t exactly sure how the arm was cleaned prior to finding him, but clearly there wasn’t a worry about rust or anything of the sort. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you unhindered access as the warm water cascaded over his back, leaving a rosy tinge in its wake. He enjoyed the hot temperature, he hadn’t felt hot water in decades.

Your focus then shifted to his lower extremities, concentrating on scrubbing his legs and feet. As the rag moved up to a more sensitive area, you paused, pulling the rag off his skin and slowly extending the washcloth to him. You pointed towards his privates, you softly instructed, "You can…get right there, I’d rather not touch you in that spot."

The furrow on the soldier's brow gave away his visible confusion, his eyes darting between you and the offered rag with a mixture of uncertainty and hesitation. It was clear that he was contemplating with the decision of whether to accept your gesture or not, if there was an ulterior motive, or if this was some sort of test. After what seemed like an eternity of internal debate, he finally extended a trembling hand towards you. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were approaching a wild animal rather than a simple cloth.

He grasped the rag from your outstretched palm, his fingers curling around it slowly. Once in possession of the cloth, he set about the task of cleaning himself. His actions, though quick, lacked the assurance of someone accustomed to such basic self-care. Each motion seemed so carefully calculated, as if he were relearning a long-forgotten, essential skill. It had been so long since he was allowed to clean himself. His movements were unsteady, his hands quivering slightly as he went about his ablutions.

It had clearly been an extensive period since he had been granted even this small measure of independence. The concept of autonomy was a luxury he had been denied for far too long.

When he was done with his hurried cleansing, the soldier's gaze immediately sought yours out. His eyes, still holding the rag, were filled with expectation, awaiting your next command. His posture tense and ready to respond to whatever instruction you might provide. The rag remained clutched in his hand, as if he were unsure whether to return it or continue holding onto this small token of independence.

"Good, you're all done," you offered a warm smile to him. Despite the wounds still visible on his body, you felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that at least the layers of dirt and grime had been washed away, your work getting him clean would pay off and be better for the both of you. You reached over and turned off the water, the sudden silence broken only by the soft dripping from the showerhead. "Let's get you dried off," you said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the shower.

He complied wordlessly, his movements careful as he stepped onto the bathroom mat. You couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he looked, standing there dripping wet, his eyes never leaving your face, his body completely littered in discoloration. Reaching for a large, fluffy towel, you unfolded it and wrapped it around his shoulders, enveloping him in its warmth to fight off the rapidly cooling water droplets all over him.

As you began to slowly dry his body, you noticed a change come over him. His softened expression now returned to its usual blank mask and the brief relaxation he showed in the shower was long gone by now. His body returned to the stiffness he had before he got in. His eyes remained fixed on you, following your every movement with an intensity that was almost unnerving.

You worked in the quiet calm of the bathroom, carefully patting dry each part of his body, mindful of his injuries. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you to maneuver him as needed, but offering no assistance, like a doll. It was as if he had retreated back into himself, leaving only an empty shell for you to tend to. You wondered what he was thinking behind those watchful, guarded eyes, they were pretty up close. Glacial, stormy blue irises that had been glued to you since you started to tend to him.

After drying him off, you were lucky to find a pair of boxers in your apartment and helped him into them, where they came from wasn’t something you could remember at the moment, but you were glad you had them. He cooperated as you dressed him, then stood there clutching the towel around himself like a security blanket.

His gaze fixed on you with a mixture of expectation and vulnerability, as if silently asking for further guidance or comfort. His wide eyes blinked languidly, and his soft pink lips formed an almost imperceptible pout, giving him an endearing, slightly lost appearance.

Lost. He embodied the word entirely. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

Taking in his disheveled state, you smiled a little, "How about we get your hair detangled, hm?" Your voice was warm and reassuring as you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against the damp strands, feeling the water practically seep out of the ends.

The soldier's reaction was a mix of acceptance and hesitation. While he didn't outright reject the idea, there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in his demeanor. However he didn’t dare reject the idea, worried about any kind of retaliation. So he made his way to the stool nestled beneath the counter and lowered himself onto it. As he settled into position, maintaining a stoic silence, his eyes continued to convey that enigmatic expression, hinting at unspoken thoughts or emotions.

You positioned yourself behind him, your hands instinctively reaching for a comb and a bottle of detangling spray already sat out from your use earlier that day. You recalled how your fingers had encountered numerous knots and tangles when you washed his hair, and thinking about how knotted it looked dirty made you sigh outwardly.

The fine mist of the detangling spray settled on his hair as you applied it methodically, you guided the comb through his locks, working patiently to untangle any knots you encountered. You tried to be as gentle as possible, knowing not only were there a ton of knots, but you remembered his scalp was especially sensitive and sore.

Soldat remained still as a statue, his posture composed and unwavering. His disciplined demeanor allowed you to work unimpeded, your movements careful and unhurried. He maintained a firm grip on the towel draped securely around his body, the fabric acting almost like a barrier and protecting him from the world. You continued to work the comb through his hair, encountering tangles and knots that spoke of recent exertion or neglect.

The process of detangling was slow, your touch continued to be gentle yet purposeful, muttering soft apologies when you ran into an unexpected knot. Teasing apart the snarls with patience and skill, the resistance lessened, and you found yourself able to run the comb smoothly through his hair, the strands falling into neat alignment.

"There we are... much better," you praised softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The sight of his hair, now brushed out and free of tangles, felt like a monumental achievement. You couldn't help but admire how the clean, detangled strands caught the light, a stark contrast to their earlier disheveled state. Your fingers ran through his locks, gently ruffling the hair from being so flat against his scalp.

You couldn't help but notice the angry red lines marring his skin, peeking out from beneath the towel. The blotchy colors on his skin that ranged from purple to blue, it made you frown. Your instincts as a caretaker kicked in, and you found yourself wondering if he would allow you to tend to those wounds. Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers barely grazing the edge of the towel just wanting to get a better look at them.

In an instant the soldier suddenly sprang to life, standing with such force that the stool he had been perched on skidded across the tile floor, the harsh scraping sound shattering the previous calm. He retreated to the far corner of the bathroom, his body language screaming defensiveness.

His eyes, which had been closed or downcast for most of your interaction, now bore into you with an intensity that made you freeze. They held fear, yes, but also a raw, primal aggression that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the look of a cornered animal, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation.

You immediately backpedaled, not wanting to trigger any aggression from him. "Okay, okay... no wound checks," you reassured as you raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. You took a step back, giving him more space, silently cursing yourself for pushing too far, too fast. The fragile trust you had built over the past few minutes seemed to hang by a thread, you didn’t want to snap the little you had.

Your words had a calming effect on Soldat, who clutched the towel tightly in his fists, ensuring it remained securely wrapped around him. His gaze drifted down to his soiled attire, prompting you to shake your head in disapproval. "No, those definitely need to be washed," you explained, your voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur, "And to be honest, these can hardly be called proper clothes. I'll make sure to get you some suitable ones tomorrow, alright?"

Soldat's eyes met yours once more, his gaze still carrying a hint of coldness and wariness, but he managed a brief, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. You gathered his discarded garments and deposited them into the washing machine, silently hoping that the combination of leather and other materials wouldn't prove too much for the aging appliance. The damn thing had to be ran twice already, you just couldn’t afford to buy a new one right now.

As you busied yourself with setting the appropriate wash cycle, Soldat seized the opportunity to hastily retreat to the room that had been designated as his temporary living space.

He immediately gravitated towards the floor, as he had been the past few days. You hadn't seen him use the bed at all, rather stay cuddled in the corner or inside the small space of the closet. The towel long forgotten and laid splayed out on the floor, he ripped the blankets off the bed in one fluid motion and proceeded to wrap himself up in them, burrowing beneath the layers of fabric for comfort and security. The blankets having replaced the towel's symbolism for safety.

You wished he’d rest on the bed rather than the floor, but you knew better than to try to alter what he was doing. Leave him to be comfortable on his own, that is the best thing to do in this situation. And if Soldat wants to sleep on the floor in a huddle of blankets, then fine.

You approached the doorway, peering inside to see him nestled in a cocoon of blankets. His exhaustion was written on his face, yet there was a noticeable improvement in his appearance. The layer of grime and perspiration that had clung to his skin was now gone, you knew he had to feel somewhat refreshed.

You cautiously stepped into the room and made your way towards him, acutely aware of how his body tensed at your approach. In response to your closer proximity, he burrowed deeper into the thick comforter that enveloped him, seeking refuge from your presence.

A soft, reassuring sound escaped your lips as you placed a water bottle within his reach. As you anticipated, he remained motionless under the comforter, offering no acknowledgment of your thoughtful action. He stayed hidden beneath the layers of fabric, like a child seeking shelter from imaginary monsters lurking in the shadows.

"Get some rest, Soldat..." you whispered gently, your voice barely above a murmur. "I'll be down in the other room if you need anything. Don't hesitate to call for me, even for the smallest thing." With that reassurance, you slowly stood back up and turned to walk out. A faint noise suddenly caught your attention, causing you to pause mid-step.

The gentle rustling of the comforter drew your gaze back towards the floor, curiosity piquing your interest. The soldier cautiously peeked out from under the blanket's edge. His tired, weary eyes met your inquisitive ones, there was a beat of silence.

"Спасибо," the soldier rasped out, his voice meek and slightly hoarse from disuse, but still loud enough for you to hear clearly.

"You're welcome..."

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover images from Pinterest. I do not claim them as my own.

[idontcare4urmom]

wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

--------------------------------------

the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

--------------------------------

two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

------------------------------------

evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

[bitterbutblue]

interrogation - jane doe

just know you'll taste me too ☆ jane doe x fem!reader

~ THE JANE DOE TRAILER WAS SO FAN SERVICE BUT SORRY IT UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME... HOT RAT GIRL SAVE ME...

warning: SUGGESTIVE AND I SAY THE SEX WORD LIKE ONCE

song: taste - sabrina carpenter ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The first thing you took note of was how much your head hurt. An incessant pounding, each worse than the last. You take a deep breath in, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. It stings, breathing stings. It's like a blade dragging itself down your throat and it makes you feel like coughing. The second thing you take note of is the feeling of ropes digging into your skin around your wrists and ankles. You squirmed, trying to move but to no avail. You were tied down. The last thing you took note of was where you were. Your vision begins to clear itself after a couple blinks- you looked around, breathing shakily as you eyed the dark surroundings. Nothing but a single lamp light pointed down at you. Everything else was dark.

"Good morning~"

A sultry voice echoes through the room- low and smooth. The woman's voice wraps around your neck, her voice is your chokehold. You look around, eyes darting from left to right, up to down, as you try to find the source of the voice.

"Who- where the fuck am I?"

Your voice is hoarse, raspy. Your throat feels scratchy and speaking just dries it out even more. You wonder how long you've been knocked out for.

"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"

"Who the fuck wouldn't?"

You couldn't stop the retorts- yes you were about to possibly die but what fucking right does this woman have?

"Honestly, I don't think that matters too much. Also, watch your language- it's quite vulgar."

The figure steps out from the shadows, a blade in her hand. An all-too smug smirk on her face as she crouches down to your eye level. You would recognise that goddamn face from anywhere.

"Jane."

"Hi."

"Fuck you."

She just giggles.

"Glad to see you remember me."

Supposedly working for under the boss of your gang, but god knows better than that. You had your suspicions since the very first day and the day your gang got busted down. She had ran away- and the last thing you remember is a waft of smoke in front of your eyes and a wet towel with a foul odour over your nose and mouth.

"Bitch."

She narrows her eyes, standing up to move behind you. You hear her footsteps, soft but it still echoes in the hollows of this dark room. You gasp when you feel her lean over your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as she smiles.

"Don't think I've forgotten our history, my dear."

Gay people always have some fucked up history with each other and this is more or less the proof. Having had sex with her on multiple occasions while she was working for your boss was probably not ideal for this situation too.

"Shame. I always wanted to see you tied down for me, just not under these circumstances."

You scoffed, looking away. You couldn't help the blush that had started creeping up from your neck and had now dusted your cheeks with a bright shade of pink. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find some way out of the stupid ropes.

"What do you want."

You curse yourself for your shaky voice.

"I just have a few questions."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It was always more than 'just a few questions'. It has never, and never will be, 'just a few questions' with Jane. She moves so that she's knelt between your thighs and in other circumstances this would've been incredibly hot (but truthfully told you couldn't help but swallow at the sight). Her tail wraps itself around your leg as she inches closer.

"How did he get away?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? You knocked me the fuck out!"

She rests a hand on your thigh and you physically shudder at the touch.

You feel pathetic.

"You were a high ranking member. Not as high ranking as me.. but-"

"Okay, no need to rub that in-"

"But. We had you all surrounded. There was no way a 7 foot giant of a man could've gotten away. How?"

Is she just bad at her job?

"Dude, how the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a lower rank than you- you should've kidnapped someone else for fuck's sake!"

Jane just giggles as her fingers begin inching up higher and higher and the once icy cold room suddenly feels like it's burning hot. You squirm again, there has to be some fucking way out of these binds. Her tail unravels itself, moving up so that it caresses your face. You shiver at the touch- the cold, metallic blade just barely grazing your cheek.

"You had connections with him no one else had."

"Shut- what?"

"You were the most convenient one to grab... considering your long history with the boss I wouldn't be surprised if he was your uncle."

"He's not." You scowl, trying not to show her exactly how much her touch affects you. You feel the blade on her tail move down, now moving itself to graze your neck.

Why was that so hot?

"Hm, sure."

She just giggles again, this time moving off her knees and back onto her feet. She presses a hand against your chest, the other on the side of your thigh as she leans down so that her face was mere inches from yours and you can feel her breath fan against your face and you can feel her eyes boring into yours and-

Oh you're so gay.

"Just tell me where he went, and we can settle this nicely like before."

"What? Did you just want to fuck me one last time before I go to jail or something?"

"Maybe." She shrugs, hand trailing up so that it wrapped around your neck. You felt her squeeze gently, and your breath catches in your throat. The room is overheating. You're overheating.

"Just be a good girl for me and tell me the truth?"

That bitch.

You couldn't help but shudder but god you can't give in to her because you're horny and pathetic, that's so stupid!

"Fuck you."

She sighs.

"I knew this would take a while."

Her eyes dart up and down your body, taking in your restrained state with a small and satisfied smirk as her grasp around your throat softens. You catch your breath- only for it to be taken away when you feel her blade trail downwards.

"I don't mind staying."

[sanjisjuul]

Jealousy!

Summary:: Law's emo ass shows up and Sanji gets jealous

Cw: Cursing, penetration, pussy eating, kinda breeding i dont know its late

Major credits to @kibblz-n-bitz for helping me out ily

Word count: 4.4k

Mdni 18+

the slight sway of the ship relaxes you as you lay out on the deck. above lies pale blue skies, the sun radiates down through the atmosphere, warming your tanned skin as a soft breeze gusts past, sweeping your hair off of your shoulders. the day couldn’t be any more ideal, as the chatter from your crew served as pleasant background noise to the otherwise emptiness of your mind.

zoro rests by a nearby railing, muscular arms crossed as he takes his afternoon nap. nami is caring for her tangerine bushes. holding hedge shears, she’s smiling and laughing with robin as she waters her small yet vibrant flower garden. usopp and chopper sit cross legged on the lawn, engrossed in a board game. luffy sits between them, tongue poking out of his mouth as he studies their every move. franky is nowhere to be found, most likely toiling with a new gadget in his quarters. brook is perched on a bench by the lawn, horse haired bow sliding along his violin strings as he plays a soothing tune. 

these are the days you cherish, no conflict, no marines, no enemies. just the days you get to spend with your best friends. the days where everybody is gathered near and most importantly safe. you smile to yourself as you relax your eyes, resting your arms behind your head, breathing in a sigh of relief. you begin to loose track of time, focusing your senses the serenity of the sea, before you’re interrupted.

“y/n,” a whisper comes from beside you. you open one eye, your peripheral revealing your smiling boyfriend standing over you, casting a shadow. you sit up in your chair, eyes lighting up at the view his charming, handsome face.

“sanji,” you reach your arms out for him. he kneels down to your level, resting his head on your shoulder, as his arms wrap around your figure. his large hands glide up and down the small of your back as he takes in the sweetness of your scent, sunscreen paired with your favorite shampoo. 

“hi darling,” he whispers pressing a soft kiss into your shoulder before leaning back at an arms length, kneading your shoulders with his thumb. “i’m making some refreshments right now, would you like one?”

you smile in admiration, eyes wide as you stare up at your lover, “of course love, what did you make?” you rise to your feet, stretching your limbs and yawning loudly. you don’t miss sanji’s gaze as it rakes your body in its entirety. you’ve been dating for a while now, but that will never prevent him from admiring your beauty.

“your favorite,” he grins offering his hand for you to take. “raspberry iced tea.” you grasp his hand bringing it to your lips before you press a soft kiss his fingers. the cool metal of his rings causing a small shiver to chill your bones. “you know me so well.”

you stride hand in hand, following him towards the kitchen. just as he’s about to push the door open you hear a small racket coming from behind you. you snap your head around to find luffy, chopper, and usopp have abandoned their game. instead they are leaning over the railing of the ship, hollering and waving towards something in the near distance. you squint your eyes, just barely making out a yellow figure that slowly emerges from the sea. you release sanji’s hand, face lighting up as you bolt down the stairs. you almost skip towards where your crew mates gather, hanging your upper body over the rail alongside chopper. as you predict, it’s none other than the polar tang which means only one thing to you.

once the submarine fully surfaces, you direct your focus onto the front door. the doorknob jiggles for a moment before it’s swung open, revealing the familiar face of trafalgar law. you hear cheers from beside you, luffy jumps up and down calling out to the other captain, as chopper’s eyes light up at his entrance.

“tra-guy,” luffy bellows waving his arms back and forth dramatically as if law isn’t about 10 feet away. law rolls his eyes, before casting a room over the ship. you feel a gust behind you and all four of you pivot on your heels. law stands in front of you, long jacket open, revealing not only his tattooed torso, but the ab muscles etched underneath his skin. he adorns his signature irritated expression as he tsks under his breath. “straw hat-ya,” he speaks, avoiding eye contact all together.

“tra-guy!” luffy exclaims, marching towards him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for an embrace. law’s expression becomes visibly more frustrated at the closeness. “didn’t expect to see you here,” luffy chuckles, arm tightening around law’s larger figure. law tries his hardest to distance himself, face as far away from luffy’s as physically possible as luffy pats his back aggressively. “well, whatever the reason,” luffy starts. “no-“ law attempts, but luffy interrupts . “lets’s have dinner!, sanji, food!” luffy cheers disregarding any protests from the irate captain. you hear a grumble from sanji before the kitchen door is slammed shut.

with the help of franky’s craftsmanship both your crew and the heart pirates gather around a large table for dinner. once sanji places both silverware and the dishes on the table, the heaps of food follow. as always it looks delicious, a colossal pile of linguini sits in a bowl along with various seafoods mixed inside. you lick your lips as this is your all time favorite dish, especially when prepared by your talented boyfriend. 

luffy immediately stretches an arm,, grabbing the bowl and shoveling pasta onto his plate, leaving the rest of you to eye the bread on your otherwise empty plates. luffy is interrupted by a kick on the head by sanji, “leave some for the rest shithead,” he growls before snatching the bowl away and placing it back at the center of the table. luffy frowns, but soon forgets his agitation while he shovels the food he did manage to grab into his mouth. 

you peer in front of you, law sits directly across the table, his eye twitches irritatedly as he awaits his turn. you can’t help but stare at the captain. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and although you have a boyfriend, it’s not like you would ever cheat. plus with sanji’s antics you find no harm in looking. “y/n-ya,” your daze is broken as law glares at you, offering you the dish of pasta. you freeze, your breath hitching in your throat as you observe the way his tattooed fingers grip the porcelain. his icy eyes bore into yours as you reach a shaky hands up for the bowl, but you jump as it’s seized from his grasp. 

“let me,” sanji smiles. he scoops you a helping, before treating himself. “thank you baby,” you whisper before digging into your food. your eyes roll back at the flavor, nothing could ever compare to sanji’s cooking. the entire table is filled with only the sounds of chewing as everybody savors the meal in front of them. luffy wastes no time in grabbing seconds then thirds as everybody continues working on their first course. you finish your meal quickly, taking a small sip of water as you sit back in your chair. again, you focus your attention on law as he chews his meal. your eyes close in on his lips as he licks them clean after a bite. you feel a hand rest on your thigh and lightly squeeze, but you pay no mind as you continue to watch as he finishes his serving, leaving only the piece of bread in its wake. 

you hear the flick of sanji’s lighter beside you. he inhales the smoke from his cigarette and exhales it in front of him, letting the smoke cloud around law. “you gonna eat that?” sanji questions, pointing a finger at laws plate. law gazes up and makes eye contact with your boyfriend, “i don’t like bread,” he responds matter of factly before sipping the glass of water in front of him. sanji slams his hand on the table angrily, “i don’t give a shit,” he snaps, “you won’t waste food on this ship.” everybody falls silent around you as sanji’s eyes narrow. “i’ll take-“ luffy starts.

“no!” sanji yells slapping luffy’s outstretched arm, “he’s gonna eat it!” you reach your hand up and tug sanji’s arm, causing him to sit back in his chair. he doesn’t break his fiery gaze as you rise, snatching the bread off of law’s plate and eating it. “y/n,” sanji starts, disappointment laced in his voice, but he falls silent as you finish it. “see babe, no big deal,” you smile as you sit back in your chair. sanji takes a drag of his cigarette before aggressively putting it out on the ashtray besides him. “i guess not,” he says blankly, face expressionless. law breaks his gaze from sanji, rolling his eyes before speaking,,“thanks y/n-ya.” you feel heat rush to your cheeks, “no problem.”

dinner ends awkwardly, and everybody gathers on the deck. brook plays a tune on his violin as most dance and drink away. zoro sits alone, watching and smiling as he takes a sip from his sake. luffy, usopp, chopper, and franky dance away along with bepo, penguin, and sachi. robin and nami stand beside you as you sip on glasses of red wine. they converse, trying to get your attention, but it’s futile, your attention is once again trained on the captain of the heart pirates. he stands across the deck, leaning over the rail, long legs crossed as he peers up at the star filled sky.

your legs act before your mind does, as you don’t even bother to excuse yourself from the girls, and walk towards him. you approach him quietly, sipping from your glass. he turns to you briefly, before training his gaze back up to the sky. “i’m sorry about dinner,” you break the silence, “sanji can be a hot head sometimes, but he means well,” you smile. he merely hums in agreement, not tearing his eyes away from the view above.

you feel a pair of hands rest on your hips, before you’re turned around softly. sanji stands before you, his head leans down towards your level, “darling,” he smiles kindly, “i hate to ask, but i may need some help in the kitchen.” he presses a kiss into your forehead. you mirror his expression, “i thought i’d never see the day you ask for help,” you chuckle as he releases his grip on you. you follow sanji as he paces to the kitchen, oddly enough he doesn’t hold your hand as he usually does. you play it off as him being stressed. he does have to clean up after more than double the people as usual. 

he holds the door open for you as you enter. you halt and raise an eyebrow at the sight. the kitchen seems spotless, the table has no signs of previous use, there aren’t any dishes in the sink, and the counters are spotless. you open your mouth to question why he asked for help, but the sound of the door locking causes you to freeze.

you squeal as you’re lifted off the ground and swung over sanji’s shoulder. he marches down the hallway and into your shared bedroom before kicking the door shut so hard it almost fly’s off of its hinges. he softly rests you on the bed before hovering above you. he inhales his cigarette, flicking it to the floor and stomping it out beneath him before loosening his tie. you gawk as he leans over you, arms resting on either side of your head as he cages you in. 

“why?” he questions, hurt apparent in his eyes. you furrow your eyebrows, completely oblivious to what he was talking about. “huh?” you respond, gripping his forearm reassuringly. “don’t be so naive,” he starts, “you’ve been staring at him all night. am i not enough?” he grits his teeth. sanji practically seethes with anger above you as the heat from his body radiates onto yours. “i-.” he shakes his head, cutting you off, “don’t try to downplay it. this isn’t the first time this has happened.” you start to feel guilty, you didn’t expect sanji to pick up on your actions, but he clearly noticed, and it obviously hurts him. 

“sanji, baby no,” you start, cradling his face in your hands, “you are enough, i love you so much i would never.” you press a kiss into his forehead and you can feel his tense body relax under your touch. his face closes in on yours as he presses his lips onto yours.

your muscles previously taught, loosen beneath him as he tenderly kisses you. his lips cradle yours with admiration before he swipes his tongue past onto your lower lip. you part your mouth, granting his offering, mewling underneath him. his arm reaches for your leg, wrapping it around his torso, leaving no space between your bodies. you reach your hands up to his hair, your fingers tangle in his locks, as your tongues continue to fight for dominance. 

you gasp as his mouth leaves yours, immediately latching onto your exposed collar bones, nipping and sucking at the soft flesh. your leg tightens around his back, hands balling into fists as he grinds down onto you. you can feel him through his slacks, he’s warm and rock hard. “mine,” he growls, warm and wet tongue drawing a line from your collar bones up to your throat. “all mine,” he wraps his mouth around the skin, sinking his teeth in softly as he sucks hard, surely leaving a mark.

your body contracts, “that feel good?” he questions. you nod, lifting your hips to meet his as he repeatedly and slowly dry humps you into the mattress. his lips leave your neck and he cranes his head up to look at you. you audibly moan at the way he stares at you. the smallest rim of ocean blue surround the black of his blown pupils. his eyes reveal his emotions which are ones of lust, passion, and jealousy. 

he remains his eye contact as one of his hands slips past the hem of your shirt. he torturously slides his large hands up the expanse of your torso, starting at your hip, reaching your lower stomach, up your ribs, and landing on your bare breast. you hiss at the contact, the icy metal of his rings immediately stimulate your nipple, causing it to harden. his other hand follows , wasting no time to palm at your other breast. the tips of his fingers dance over your other hardened nub, refusing to give you what you want as he lightly flicks back and forth.

you’re pliable underneath him, squirming and whining at every feathery touch he gives you. he rarely teases you in this way, always giving you exactly what you want without asking. sanji has one rule and that is that he lives to serve you. however, that unwritten rule is tossed aside as he lets you crumble underneath him, patiently waiting for you to ask, to beg for it. 

the sensation of your juices flowing freely down your thighs puts you in a slight discomfort, but theres not much you can nor are willing to do. your mind clouds as he brings your nipples between his fingers, just barely tugging at the sensitive flesh, eliciting a strained moan from the depths of your chest. at this point you can’t handle his teasing, the faint whispers of his touch aren’t enough, you crave something more. “sanji,” you mewl, your tongue swiping the cracked skin of your bottom lip, “please touch me.” at your words he slowly removes his hands out from underneath your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps as the warmth of his flesh is replaced with the frigid night air.  he brings a hand up to your head, patting your disheveled hair from your face, before trailing his thumb down your jawline. he slows his movements upon reaching your chin, before trailing up and letting his thumb tug on your bottom lip. 

you freeze as his eyes scan your face, he’s searching for any signs of apprehension, to which there were none. you couldn’t be any more enthralled with the man leaning above you. nothing and nobody could compare to the immense joy and comfort he brings you. nothing could compare to the tingly feeling you get when he holds you, letting you rest your head on his chest as he sleeps peacefully beside you night after night. and nothing could compare to the way he satisfies you both mentally and physically, nobody could make you feel the way that he does. and although he’s aware of this, your actions previously in the day have him questioning it all, so he makes it his mission to remind you. to remind you that you’re his and he’s yours. 

you reach for his hands, interlacing your fingers with his, but are struck with a twinge of hurt when he stands up, slowly releasing your grip and letting your arms bounce back on the mattress. he continues holding eye contact, unreadable expression painting his features as he hovers over you. after what seems like hours, he lowers his gaze onto himself. he shrugs his suit jacket off, before untying his tie. he paces slowly over to the nearby desk, back turned to you he folds both pieces of clothing before placing neatly them down. he starts working on the buttons of his shirt, intricately popping each open before peeling the blue dress shirt off, placing it on top of the small pile.

you clench around nothing at the sight of his back, lean muscles of his biceps and deltoids ripple as he puts his hands in his pockets. he turns back towards you, silently eyeing you as he approaches. he resumes his position, leaning back over you, and this time you wrap both legs around him tightly, scared to let go. “my love,” he whispers, reaching down to pull your shirt over your head, freeing your breasts with a soft bounce. “let me remind you,” he tugs off your skirt, tossing it on the desk. “let me remind you how good i make you feel.”

any response you could come up with falls flat, your mind focuses on the hungry actions of your boyfriend who’s now positioned between your legs, kissing up and down the inners of your thighs. you attempt to squirm, but his firm grip holding your legs to the bed prevent any sort of movement. he licks a stripe up your left thigh, then right one, allowing himself to lick past your outer labia, but not where you need him the most. you’re sure he can see how much you crave him, there’s no way he can miss the way your slick seeps through the thin fabric of your panties, and coats your trembling thighs. 

his teasing halts, as he licks one last stripe, this time letting his tongue glide up your center and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. he releases his grip on your thighs, running his hands up your hot flesh and hooking his fingers around your panties, slowly pulling them down as he looks up at you. he stuffs your underwear in his trouser pocket, saving it for later, wasting no more time to dive into your sex. 

whimpers leave your parted mouth as he slowly licks up and down, making sure to flick his tongue against your clit every chance he gets. he groans into your cunt, the taste and aroma affecting him greatly as his cock twitches, beads of precum soaking his boxers. the vibration from his mouth reverberates through your pussy, causing fire to erupt throughout your entire being, and settling in your lower stomach.

his lips latch to your clit, pressing soft kisses paired with kitten licks in between, causing you to loose composure as your hips buck up into his mouth. sanji would take this over receiving any day. the way your flushed face contorts in utter pleasure is more than enough for him to get off to. not to mention the way you tremble, one hand clawing at the sheets as the other toys with your nipples it a sight to behold. he prefers it this way, after all theres nothing better than a satisfied lady.

you feel his finger prod at your entrance, his movements on your clit never seizing as he sinks his finger into you with ease. you whine as he tests the waters, steadily pumping in and out of you as to let you get used to the feeling. 

your core is boiling as he pumps his large finger in and out of you, hooking it up to hit your g spot each time. you’re already close, sanji knows your body better than his own. he’s studied any and all reactions you give him, keeping mental notes of what makes you feel good and what doesn’t. his expertise shows as he removes his finger from your entrance, his lips pressing one last kiss onto your clit before he grabs you by the hips, flipping you over on your stomach.

you cry out as he reinserts his finger, reassuming his previous pace while his tongue finds your clit once again. you sit up on your knees, back arching as he eats you out from behind. drool soaks your sheets, fingers twitching, and legs shaking as he works up his pace, rapidly licking you clean, and inserting another finger inside you.

“sanji,” you whine, your body starts convulsing, muscles twitching as he pulls your orgasm from deep within you. he only hums as a response, never daring to stop his actions in fear that your high will be ripped away. the rumble of his voice causes you to let go, mewling and crying as your orgasm overtakes your body. you come undone on his face, and although he tries to savor every last drop, your juices coat his beard and drip down his chin. you pant feverishly, arms working their absolute hardest to keep you upright as he laps you with his tongue.

he wraps his arms around your stomach, gently helping you lay down before kissing your shoulder tenderly. your hear the metal of his zipper slide down from behind you, the rustling of fabric follows before you feel his length rub your core. “you ready darling?,” he questions as he coats himself with your juices, shuddering at the warm feeling. you merely nod and whisper a small “yes please,” and he takes that as his cue to enter you.

he slowly grinds into you, stretching you to capacity as he bottoms out. he fucks you slow and deep, making you whimper every time his tip kisses your cervix. “my god,” he groans gripping the fat of your hips for leverage, “it’s like you’re made for me.” you struggle to respond, too lost by the fire that fills your body with each roll of his hips. his fingers dig into your plush skin, he grips you as if you’re about to melt away through his palms. 

to your surprise he picks up the pace, his hips speedily pounding you, the rough sounds of skin slapping satisfy him to the fullest. sanji isn’t the type to fuck hard and fast, he usually savors the moment for the longest he can, but you have awakened something inside of him. he wants you teary eyed, screaming his name for everybody to hear. he needs everybody to know you’re his, especially that emo fuck. 

and to his utmost pleasure, your whimpers turn into loud wails. shouts of his name leave your mouth, his cock churns your insides in the best way possible. “that’s right,” sanji smirks, arms snaking around your chest, bringing your back flush with his chest. his lips hover over your ear, causing shivers to traverse down your spine. “need to hear you, need to hear how good i make you feel,” he bites down on the shell of your ear, soft hands grip your breasts and tug your nipples through the tips of his fingers. “let everybody hear, don’t hold back.”

chants of his name are followed with profanity are spewed from your mouth as you try to cope with the immense pleasure he gives you. a loud knock on your door almost distracts you as you snap your head in it’s direction, but that doesn’t stop sanji. he can’t stop even if he tried, the way you suck him in leaves him pussy drunk, completely intoxicated by the spell you have him under. 

“gonna cum baby,” he grunts, his hips sputter as he jackhammers you. “want it inside, please,” you beg arm reaching up to his head, pulling it in the crook of your neck. sweat drips down both your bodies before you hear a loud hiss come from your boyfriend. with one last deep thrust, he keeps it in, filling you with his seed. the warm feeling of his cum coating your insides drives you insane, but also brings a new sense of closeness. his cock twitches as rope after rope of cum is pumped inside of you, his body pulsates as small whimpers leave his lips. 

you both gasp for air, his arm still tightly wrapped around you as he nuzzles his head into your hair. you cherish the moment as the seconds tick by. your sticky bodies in their most vulnerable state are glued together, the humid air surrounding was not only proof of what just happened, but a reminder of the passion you share for each other. 

he moves your hair off your shoulder, kissing the exposed skin, “i’m sorry,” he whispers a small apology nuzzling himself into your back. you part your lips to speak, but are cut off, “i just can’t stand the thought of you… being with someone else. you are my world.” he finishes, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. 

droplets of warm tears flow down his cheeks, dropping on your back and slowly sliding down. you muster up all your remaining strength, turning to face him. “hey,” you soothe, thumbs wiping the tears from his watery eyes, “you’re my world, i never want to picture a day where you aren’t mine. i love you sanji and only you.”

he sniffles, wide eyes meeting yours, “promise?” you lean in, kissing him softly on the forehead, “promise.”

tags: @leakyweep @stardustcrustaders @leftsidebonfire @kibblz-n-bitz @pileofmush

love, bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[charlottesbookclub]

ser gwayne hightower fluff alphabet 💚💚

Summary: just what it says on the tin: fluff alphabet for my boy gwayne (do people still do these anymore? idc I'm doing it bc I love reading them and I thought I'd try writing one myself 😌😌)

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; spouse!reader; established relationship (marriage); we are all going to have fluff-induced cavities after this, I fear (it's more absolute tooth-rotting fluff, y'all!); let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2985

Author’s Note: I'm meeting with my phd advisor today which is going to be totally fine (she is so super sweet) but my brain decided we were going to have major anxiety about it, and what better way to distract myself than by writing fluff for gwayne!! 🥰💚 I've never done one of these before, but I always enjoyed reading them, so I thought I'd try it myself! ☺️ I like that it lets me explore his character without having the pressure of a plot lol

as always, I hope y'all enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!! ☺️💕

template by: magical-warlock

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Honestly anything. I feel like if it was something you enjoyed, Gwayne would find himself enjoying it too, just because you were happy. But I think like he would really like going on leisurely walks or horse rides together. It’s an activity that allows you to talk and get to know one another, but where you can also explore the beauty of a garden or forest together. I could totally see him bringing a book along and reading it aloud to you under a tree.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Everything lmao. But your eyes stand out to him, especially when he can read all the things you don’t say out loud in them. I feel like he would also appreciate intellect, common sense, and wit. He is clearly sooooo done with Criston’s weird dumb bullshit, and I think someone who was rational and level-headed but not afraid to crack a joke or two (especially at Criston’s expense lmaooooo) would be really appealing to him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

My mans would not be much help at first because he’s freaking out too. He wouldn’t want to see you in any kind of distress, especially if he’s not sure where it came from or what’s causing it. I think if it happened more than once and you talked about it and expressed what you needed, he would be more than willing to do whatever you needed from him. My sense is that his first reaction (after the initial freak out) would just be to hold you really tightly and whisper reassurances to you until you were feeling better.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Given the society that Gwayne lives in, his expectations have kind of been set for him in the sense that his future is pretty much expected to involve marriage and children. And honestly, I get the sense that this isn’t something he’s necessarily opposed to. Especially since he found you and realizes he gets to marry someone he actually loves, he’d be pretty thrilled about the whole prospect. It just doesn’t seem like life on miliary campaign is something he’s super jazzed about, so his ideal future would likely be just settling down with you in Oldtown. 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I think it’s pretty mixed, especially depending on the context. Again, given the societal expectations placed on him, I do think he might tend to be a little more dominant (especially if he thinks/knows that he’s right about something) but I also don’t think he would ever force you to do something you didn’t want to. He’d also back off on just about any subject if he noticed you were getting upset about it. I also think it really depends on your temperament, since I think he could really go either way depending on what energy you brought to the relationship.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It would be really hard for him to stay mad at you (and vice versa). Unless it was something truly awful, I just don’t think he could stay upset with you for very long. As we’ve already established, he’s a pretty rational person who seems to value clear communication, so I think “fights” with him would be more like difficult discussions about hard issues rather than an actual fight. This is really nice because then you both get to speak your mind and actually come out with a better understanding of the other person and a stronger relationship because of it.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I do tend to think that he’s a pretty grateful person, but I think he’s better at showing it than saying it sometimes. Not that he can’t verbalize his gratitude – he totally can – I just think that gestures come more naturally to him (like winning a tourney in your honor, buying you something extravagant, taking you on a nice trip, etc.)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Yes and no. If there was something he knew that would put you in danger if you knew it, he would not tell you. He would never forgive himself if something happened as a result. Pretty much anything else though, he’ll tell you. He won’t always offer everything, but I think he would have a hard time lying to you or keeping things from you if you asked about them. Depending on what it was, he might tell you a sanitized version of the story because he doesn’t want you to worry, but he’d be as honest as he felt he could be in the moment.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

I think in any good relationship (romantic, platonic, or otherwise) people change each other for the better. Gwayne is no exception to this, and I think it’s likely that he picks up habits from you (just as you do from him). I can definitely see that if he had you as a confidante to rant about Criston or just to express his worries and doubts about politics, his family, etc. that he might be a little less overtly antagonistic and instead might just smile and nod a little more but internally be like “wait til my s/o hears about this fucking bullshit.” He’d definitely still give Critston attitude tho

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes and no. Gwayne is a fairly confident person, and I think he feels pretty comfortable with himself and with his relationship with you for the most part. However, I don’t think he’s immune to jealously, especially if it were to seem like another person was paying you a bit too much attention. In that scenario, I’m sure he’d have some quip at that person’s expense and whisk you away or be very obvious about using your title as his spouse. The one thing that might make him feel truly insecure is if it seemed like you were becoming interested in someone else. But let’s be real, if you get to marry Ser Gwayne Hightower, that’s not fucking happening 

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Oh, he’s definitely a good kisser. I don’t think he was one to have a lot of trysts prior to meeting you (despite his bravado, I think he really values an emotional or intellectual connection to the person he’s with, meaning I don’t think many of the flings he might have had made it all the way to the hook-up stage). But he’s a handsome man who likely had a lot of admirers, and I do think he got a bit of practice with kissing in his youth. He’s absolutely very attentive to what you like, so I think he’s only gotten to be an even better kisser over the course of your relationship. In terms of your first kiss with him, these lyrics from “All My Love” by Noah Kahan are very applicable here: “I leaned in for a kiss thirty feet from where your parents slept / and I looked so confident, babe / I swear, I was scared to death.” Especially early on, I think he really wanted to project this confident and suave vibe that he totally knew what he was doing, but as soon as he realized he was in love with you, he was actually a nervous wreck and desperately did not want to mess it up. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

re: Gwayne’s penchant for gestures, I have a feeling he had a whole well-written speech planned out (he based it on the dramatic love confessions he read in old ballads). However, despite all his preparation, I think the confession actually ended up just slipping out one time when you were together and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. He probably stumbled over his words and was very embarrassed about it and his face turned bright pink, but it was so adorable and endearing that you actually preferred it to whatever speech he might have had planned.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the wedding be like?

As I mentioned above, I think that marriage is pretty much a given for Gwayne considering the realities of the culture in which he lives. He also probably didn’t propose in the traditional sense, since the marriage was likely arranged, but I can absolutely envision him proposing to you privately after the betrothal has been officially announced and after he’s spent enough time with you to realize that he is genuinely in love with you. It would be sort of a love confession/proposal where he basically says “I know you were chosen by others to be my spouse, but I also personally choose you because I love you.” The wedding would be fairly large and befitting of his rank and station, and it’s likely that neither of you would have much choice in how it was conducted. Gwayne definitely likes the idea of a large and fairly public wedding because it’s a way for him to show his pride for both his house and his betrothed.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Very sweet things! Mostly “my dear,” “my love,” and “dearheart,” with a sprinkle of “my darling” mixed in on occasion.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

He gets very love-struck, especially when he’s with you. Spending time with you is like spending time in another world for him, and I do think he becomes a little more uninhibited when he’s around you. If people watch the two of you together, his lovesickness is pretty obvious to anyone who knows him. Even if they speak to just him, they might notice slight changes, like the fact that he talks about you a lot and always finds a way to bring you into the conversation. He’s careful though, and would never reveal the depths of his affection for you to someone who might you it against him or hurt you to get back at him. In terms of expressing feelings, as I mentioned above, I get the sense that he’s one for gestures that demonstrate his feelings. He gets nervous and stumbles over his words more than usual when he tries to verbalize things to you, and that’s an unusual and uncomfortable experience for him at first. The longer you’re together though, the better he gets at it.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag about their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Because your betrothal and marriage are pretty much public knowledge, Gwayne definitely feels comfortable being upfront about the relationship. And oh he totally brags. He’s very proud to call you his spouse and is not afraid to make sure everyone knows about it. Based on societal and cultural expectations, I don’t think there would be a lot of open PDA (like hugs, kisses on the lips, etc.). But hand kisses?????????? All the fucking time babeyyyyyyy!!!!!!!! So many kisses on the knuckles wherever and whenever – it’s his favorite little gesture of affection

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Mans is a killer shit talker. We know this. He can and will throw shade with the best of them. He wants to know all the drama in your friend circle and will happily judge everyone with you for hours. That one “friend” of yours who turned out to be wildly toxic and conniving? Well he never liked them anyway and he’s got a bulletpointed list of reasons why. You start a conversation with “can I be mean for a moment?” or “you know I love this person, but…” and he is SAT. He’s always on your side and ready to talk absolute shit about anyone who caused you even a minor inconvenience. 

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

At the end of the day, he’s something of a hopeless romantic and would do whatever he could to make you happy. There are a lot of times when the cultural and societal realities of the world he lives in prevent him from doing everything he might want, but if it came down to it, he would do almost anything for you. A lot of his romantic gestures are a little cliché, but in the best, most endearing way possible. As he gets to know you though, and as your relationship matures, he’ll probably get a little more creative and do things that are more specific to the two of you.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Believes in you and supports you 100000% no question. Again though, I think this impulse can be a bit hampered by the social structures in which he lives. He’ll do whatever he can to help you achieve your goals, but there are limits based on birth, status, etc. that you are both cognizant of and which might influence what those goals look like and how far either of you would go to achieve them.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

We’re talking about Ser “I’d rather stay at a comfy inn than camp out” Gwayne Hightower here – I think he appreciates a level of routine and comfort. There’s so much in his world that is chaotic and out of his control that I think he would really relish having that consistency and stability in his relationship. Not that he would never try anything new – especially if you asked him to – I just think his natural inclination would be to have a comforting routine that works for both of you.

U nderstanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Considering he picked up on Alicent and Criston’s weird vibes in like 5 seconds, I’d say he’s pretty good at reading people. He definitely makes an effort to get to know you, and can confidently say that he knows you very well at this point. Especially since you’re someone he cares about and spends a lot of time with, he’s quite good at reading your moods and guessing how you’re feeling.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important. Again though, there are cultural expectations placed on both of you that may necessitate you and Gwayne placing your relationship further down your list of priorities than you normally would choose to. If it were completely up to him though, his relationship with you would be right up there at the top with his loyalty to his house and his family.

W ild Card - A random fluff headcanon

I talked about this much more extensively in this fic, but the necklace you gave him? He. Does. Not. Take. It. Off. EVER. It’s his little piece of you that he gets to carry everywhere, and he could never ever bear to part with it.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, abso-fucking-lutely! As I mentioned in the PDA section, he’s more retrained in public, but still likes to demonstrate his affection for you via hand kisses. In private though, he loves to cuddle. And honestly, he doesn’t really care where or in what position – curled up in bed, sprawled on a couch, his head in your lap, you tucked against his chest – he just likes to be touching you and knowing that you’re right there next to him, that you’re safe, and that you love him.

Y earning - How do they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s a reality he has to face more than he would like, given the exterior expectations placed on him. If he had his way, he would live quietly with you at his family’s property near Oldtown forever. When he has to leave though, he always asks for your favor to take with him, regardless of how long you’ve been together or how many times you’ve bestowed it. As mentioned above, he also always wears the necklace you gave him. Definitely a top tier professional yearner though – he misses you and thinks of you the whole time he’s gone.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

This answer will be pretty similar to the answer for “V” – yes he is, but he also has to be cognizant of outside pressures that might cause him to act in ways that don’t always align with his personal inclinations. He would both die and kill for you though, not that you’re asking him to do either. In fact, you’re usually telling him not to do either of those things.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

something sugary {alex karev}

Plot: Reader has diabetes and Alex always keeps a stash of sugary food and drink for them in his locker.

requested by anon

Character: Alex Karev x Female Reader

Alex nudged your side for the third time in the span of twenty seconds. You shot him a dirty look, "Stop," you hissed under your breath.

Bailey pulled a look of 'shut your mouth right now or I'll kill you' at the two of you but still, ten seconds later, Alex nudged your side, "Are you feeling alright?" He asked quietly, "You're looking a little clammy..."

You looked at him, feeling a rather large surge of anger bubble inside you, "Alex, you're a piece of-" and then you realised that he was right. You'd been feeling rather warm for the last five or so minutes and when you stopped to listen to your body, you felt sluggish and a little shaky. You were having a hypo. "-shit!" You cursed as you began to feel the familiar tendrils of a hypo taking over your body. It had a way of sneaking up on you and then making you go down fast. You had to check your bloods and get something sugary into your body and fast.

Bailey, who'd been in the middle of telling you about a patient, raised her eyebrows, "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, Doctor Bailey, I need to go check my levels, think I might be-"

She flapped a hand at you, "Alright, go, go!"

You rushed out of the room quickly, trying to get to your locker before the hypo got worse. You always kept your kit on you but the snacks were always stored in your locker (or the vending machine since you usually forgot to get more) - maybe not the most ideal but that's the way it had to be. You'd been so preoccupied with getting out that you hadn't realised someone else left behind you.

By the time you got to the locker room, you felt rather worse for wear. A dull headache was spreading across your forehead that was slick with sweat and your body felt like one more step forwards would cause it to collapse. Despite that, you pushed through and sat on the bench. You needed to know your levels, as you did this, you barely processed the fact that Alex Karev had now joined you in the locker room and was rifling through his locker for something.

2.2mmol/L flashed on screen.

"Shit," you whispered before standing and going to your own locker but before you could, Alex caught your wrist and twirled you round. Annoyed, you snapped, "Alex, I don't have time for-"

He pushed something into your hands, "Eat." You frowned at him and then looked down at what he'd put in your hands... Candy?

"What is this?"

"Shut up and eat," he rolled his eyes, "I told you that you looked funny, you're having a hypo. Something sugary is what you need. Eat."

You didn't question him again and instead sat down on the bench and began to eat a few of the sour candies he'd given you. He sat next to you in silence.

As you ate, you could feel the headache ease off a bit and you didn't feel as warm, "How did you know?"

"I'm a Doctor, genius."

You rolled your eyes, "Seriously, Alex, how did you know?"

He shrugged, "We've been doing this together for like a year. I know when you're having a hypo or you're about to. It's why I've stashed so much sugary stuff in my locker for you."

It took you a moment to process what he'd just said. He'd been observing you enough to know when you were in a hypo and he kept snacks in his locker for you? You and Alex were friends, barely. He was an asshole half the time but sometimes, in rare moments, you connected. You liked to drink with him, he had the wildest stories and could always make you laugh.

"Alex..."

He gave you a small smile, "Don't mention it but maybe you should lay off calling me a piece of shit and just let me help you instead, yeah?"

"... Why do you keep snacks in your locker for me?"

"Give me your locker key." He held out his hand and you gave him your keys. He stood and moved to your locker before swinging it open. Inside, you had a few changes of clothes, some skin care, shampoo, tampons but no snacks, "Like I said, we've been working together for a year. I know that even though you're one of the best Doctors I know, you're hopeless at keeping on top of buying yourself snacks to keep in work. Too many times I've seen you send O'Malley to the vending machines." He shrugged, "I thought I'd keep a stash for easiness."

You were touched. You were insanely appreciative of Alex Karev in this moment, your heart surged and felt rather full and warm inside, "Alex, I don't know what to say."

He shook his head, "It's alright," he sat beside you again, "here, let me check your levels." He took your hand and you let him. You were a little too shocked to stop him if you wanted to but you'd never felt this seen before, least of all by Alex Karev. You watched him in awe as he expertly pricked your finger and took your levels, "There," he grinned, "Perfect."

He packed your kit away and handed it back to you and dug around in his scrub pocket to pull out another key, "It's my spare locker key." He looped it onto your keychain and you noticed it had AK in Sharpie on either side, "If you ever need sugary stuff, help yourself... it's all for you anyway."

"Thank you, Alex," you said softly. Your cheeks felt hot again but not because of a hypo but more so because you didn't know what to do now. Having him be here, having him care for you like this... it sent your heart and stomach into a frenzy and you weren't sure how to react now.

He rolled his eyes as he laughed, "What?" He asked, "I give you candy and that's got you all blushing and shy? What would you be like if I took you on a real date, mm?" He was teasing but there was a genuine question under the humour. A date - a real date with him. He was testing the waters, wanting to gauge your reaction to him saying that.

You laughed, not freaked out or disgusted at all by his suggestion, "You need to work harder to get a date with me, Karev," you stood up and the two of you began to walk back to the elevators.

"Yeah? Name your price, I'll do it."

"Coffee, every morning for the next two weeks. Not crappy hospital coffee-"

"Nah, you want the real stuff from that coffee shop across the road. I've seen you in there before your shift starts." You nodded in agreement. Alex smiled, "Easy, done."

You saw a completely different side to Alex Karev that afternoon and it didn't stop there. Once you'd seen it once, you'd seen his softer side one hundred times. You began to see him just like he had seen you. And yes, for the next two weeks, he got you coffee and a muffin every morning (and then every morning afterwards also).

[alpaca-clouds]

How to make a "world" more accessible

Let's talk a bit about accessible worldbuilding. I am thinking here first about Solarpunk worlds, but also about other scifi and fantasy worlds, that often do not think about this at all. Again, there is this nasty tendency to just assume that there are no disabilities in those worlds - and it leaves disabled people often feeling left out.

One of the most basic accessibility features one would expect to see in a world would be some sorts of ramps. And don't get me started with "oh, in my world wheelchairs fly!", which is something that actually not all folks reliant on wheelchairs want - as the actual hand-moved wheelchair often gives them a certain control.

It should also be noted that ramps help not only wheelchair users, but also people with baby strollers, and folks who might use other mobility aids like rollators. Heck, in my life ramps have also helped me, when I was travelling with a large trunk. Really, ramps make life easier for a lot of folks! Heck, if we think about a solarpunk world, where hopefully a lot of folks would get around by bike, ramps would help as well.

Of course, in some cases (if feasible in the technology level) there might also be a need for some sort of elevator. Again, not only wheelchair users will make use of that.

Another thing that should help, would be a wider usage of stuff like orientation systems for blind people. Currently those things are fairly spotty. Like some places have them, other places don't. And even where they are implemented, a lot of folks do not know what they are and will walk over it and park their cars on it. Stuff like that, which will once again make stuff more dangerous and inaccessible for blind people.

Then there should more accessibility accomondations for people who are deaf or hard of hearing. Those could mean to install visual signals for warning systems, which often currently are mainly auditory. It could also mean a wider usage of stuff like subtitles if possible in the world. And it also could mean that in the world people are more encouraged to learn sign language.

But those are the obvious disabilities. The stuff folks think off first when they hear "disability".

But there are other disabilities. Personally, for example, I do have some issues with my bowels. So what would be important to me is easy access to toilets whereever I move around. Which also is to say: Yes, dear public transport. Not having a single accessible toilet in your fucking train is an accessibility issue and ableistic.

Or the one accessibility aspect that has slowly been taken away recently due to hostile architecture: Benches and other places in public to sit down on. Because a lot of folks just cannot stand/walk for a long while. This is true for old people, and recently increasingly too for folks disabled through COVID.

There is also the need for shaded areas. As there are several disabilities that do not deal well with direct sunlight. Be it people who react allergic against sunlight, be it people whose eyes cannot deal with too much light, or be it people who might just struggle with their circulation when in the direct sun for too long.

And then there is allergic people. Which is also a big chunk - and in some cases can be quite debilitating. And I might remind people: In a fantasy or scifi world there might be people allergic to some of the worldbuilding stuff. Like in the Witcher Triss is allergic against magic, and in the nice sapphic webcomic Always Human one of the two main characters is allergic against bio-implants. Hence, ideally in an accessible fantasy/scifi world it would be easy to access what kinda stuff is in a potion and what not, to allow folks to be safe.

Lastly, of course, there are neurodivergent folks and... about that I am going to talk tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way: If you are disabled and have ideas of how the world could be more accessible for you... Please feel free to add!

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

I saw you were still taking writing requests and your writing is very very good so maybe 5 or 11 with Joel and Jimmy?

Joel bumped his head against the stone wall of the hill side. He wasn't sure how long he's been sitting here, but it seemed like hours. It could have just been a few minutes, but with both of their heart rates high it was slowing down the time significantly.

"Jimmy," he sighed, the first words said in those minutes, "Why are you still afraid of me?"

He couldn't help but peek down into the crevice, the one that Jimmy had smushed himself into. He had though they had gotten passed this.

Getting trapped on a random modded server hadn't been ideal. They were still trying to figure out how to get off it, even after several days of pushing at the boundaries, but it wasn't like either of them were very knowledgeable in this kind of thing. The origins that had been forced upon them had only increased the difficulty, throwing them into instincts they had no clue how to navigate.

Joel had become a fox origin, something that he felt he would have been familiar with given he's had wolf traits forced upon him during life series seasons. He quickly learned, however, that having fangs and ears was nothing close to being part fox himself. His need to forage and dig and steal was dialed up to an impossible to ignore level. It made the serious work they had to do hard to not sabotage by pure instincts.

Jimmy had it worse. A bunny origin. Barely half a block tall now and the twitchiest he's ever seen him. Jimmy had never been an overly nervous or cautious person; honestly, he was prone to taking on battles he couldn't win more often than not. Now he could barely get Jimmy to stand in the same room as him.

It had gotten better over the last few days. Jimmy no longer ran for the nearest hiding spot the second he saw a flash of Joel's red tail or heard him grow at certain challenges.

Except for today it seems; and today was worse. Joel had growled and yipped at a grizzly bear, a bloody custom mob on this forsaken server, and the combination of two predators had sent Jimmy's rabbit heart into a frenzy. He had ran off and dug himself into the smallest hole he could find.

It took Joel ages of panicked searching to find him. He thought that just telling the bunny origin that the bear was gone would be enough to get him to climb out himself, but the moment Jimmy had seen the shine of Joel's eyes he had scrambled to push himself further into the hole.

That brought them to now. Joel had sat back for a few minutes to let Jimmy relax, but the quiet wasn't working.

Jimmy shifted, which Joel heard more than he saw due to the fact that the space he had shoved himself in was so small.

"I don't know," Jimmy finally answered Joel's question, "I'm just... I don't want to be. It's hard. I've been this small before, you're well aware of that, but this is different. Everything feels so big this time. It's like I'm the smallest guy in the world everything wants to kill me for it."

"I don't want to kill you," Joel said, trying to keep his voice low.

Jimmy went awfully quiet to that.

"Jim?"

"Are you sure you don't want to kill me?" Jimmy asked, so quiet Joel was pretty sure he only heard it because of his increased hearing.

"What is it going to take to get you to trust me?" Joel asked in response, trying and failing to push down the absolute devastation he felt at those words. Jimmy had been so afraid of him these last few days, Joel knew it was bad, but he didn't realize just how scared his friend had been of him.

Jimmy took a deep breath, "Do you... have a carrot?"

It took all of Joel's restraint to not bark out a laugh right then and there, managing just to only snicker as he dug through his inventory. "That's all you need?"

"No," Jimmy answered honestly, "But it'll be a start."

Joel nodded and pulled out a carrot, dangling it in front of the hole. Jimmy crawled out and he had to take it in both paws, it nearly as big as him. He slowly sat next to Joel, leaning against his side, and Joel did everything in his power not to shift.

It was a start.

[storiesiwrite]

Home ☾ Lee Seokmin

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship

Word count: 5026

Summary: In which you’re having one of those days when it’s a struggle to be kind to yourself, and Seokmin makes sure you feel appreciated and loved.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

Seokmin has a gnawing feeling in his gut that tells him you’re not feeling your best today.

It’s evident in the text messages you leave him throughout the day, in your unusual choice of words. Just a small difference, but a difference all the same, and he knows you too well to miss the signs.

Perhaps it also has something to do with your tendency to hide behind a smile even as you’re buried deep in your struggles. You don’t like the idea of people around you noticing. Seokmin would know; as terrible a habit as it is, it’s one that he and you both share.

Suffice it to say, it isn’t long before he begins losing his concentration at work. Completing the simplest of tasks eventually becomes a challenge, but he can hardly expect anything else when you’re constantly on his mind.

The moment his seven-hour shift is over, he wastes no time packing up his things and clocking out of work. The original—and usual—plan has been to head straight home, but those texts of yours made him change his mind. He decides to make a detour instead, making sure to snag a couple of your favorite desserts along the way.

It begins to drizzle shortly afterwards, the skies painted in shades of midnight blue that signal an impending downpour. Not the most ideal situation, but he doesn’t mind the rain beating down on him as he runs down the streets. Doesn’t see the negative because all that matters to him is that he is coming home to you.

Please, he says in a hopeful whisper, please hang on until I get there.

And by the time he reaches the door to your shared apartment, his clothes have been completely soaked through, and he fights to catch his breath. His keys are somewhere in the depths of his sling bag, but retrieving them with both hands occupied would be a hassle, which is why he resorts to pressing the bell with one side of his knuckle. It doesn’t take long before he hears shuffling on the other side and the door cracks open.

The sight that greets him breaks his heart into slivers.

You’re standing there beyond the threshold, your eyes puffy, the dark circles beneath them more pronounced than ever. Faint blotches of red have spread across your cheeks and nose, as if you’ve spent an ample amount of time rubbing them raw. You’re faring worse than he imagined, yet despite everything, you still manage to smile.

Though said smile falls the moment you take in his drenched state.

“Oh, Seok,” you say, concern etched on your features as you quickly pull him inside and shut the door.

He settles down the desserts on the small side table (thank the heavens they were wrapped in plastic, otherwise they would not have survived the terrible weather). Peeling off his wet jacket, he places it atop a drying rack nearby and watches as you dash towards the bathroom with a frown on your face.

“Did you forget to bring an umbrella?” You call out to him, reappearing mere seconds later with a clean towel in one hand. He can’t help but smile at the gesture, so endearing it warms him despite the cold seeping through his skin.

“Well, um, I was in a hurry this morning, and it completely slipped my mind,” he explains as you take his hand, leading him towards the kitchen. When you tell him to sit on one of the shorter stools there, he simply obliges. Standing there in front of him, your face level with his own, you begin drying his face and neck with the towel.

It’s not that he actually needs your help—he can pat himself dry perfectly well—but he accepts it anyway, sees it as an opportunity to truly look at you.

This should feel comforting. This nearness with you, this form of intimacy he would never want to share with anyone else. And in other cases, he’s certain it would. But never in the two years of your relationship has he had this much trouble gazing at you. Especially like this, up close with your bloodshot eyes and swollen cheeks. It hurts him to acknowledge that he wasn’t there for you when you needed him the most.

And still, he doesn’t look away. He knows he has to say something, has to begin the conversation somehow.

“I’m sorry, love,” he tries. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

With a shake your head, you say, “I know, and you don’t need to apologize for that. But please, promise me you’ll remember to take your umbrella with you next time?” You move on to his wet hair, gently dabbing it dry. “I just don’t want you to get sick, is all.”

He gives you a small smile. You’ve always been so caring of others; it’s one of the many things he adores about you. “I will. Promise.”

“Good.” There it is, a small upward tug of your lips. It’s a start.

“I actually swung by the bakery earlier,” he says, nodding to the table near the door where the desserts lie waiting. “Bought some of those glazed donuts you love.”

You follow his gaze. “Did you?”

“Yeah, and I also brought home some boba.”

Your mouth opens slightly in delighted surprise, your eyes crinkling. “You have to stop spoiling me, Seok! I don’t think I can keep up.”

“Not planning on that any time soon. You’re just going to have to put up with it.”

A soft laugh escapes you. “I guess so.” You push the towel aside when you’re done, running your fingers through his unkempt hair in an attempt to tidy it. “There. Better?”

He leans towards you to kiss you on the lips. “Better. Thank you, love.”

“Don’t mention it.” You cup his face in your hands, and he leans against your touch.

He steals yet another brief kiss from you. “You okay? I haven’t asked you how your day was.”

He feels you tense slightly, though your expression remains neutral. “It was good. Spent the whole day at home today, got to relax a lot. You know how much I like staying in.” You chuckle with a strain that hasn’t escaped his notice. “How was yours?”

“Well, work was more hectic than usual, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I’m just glad to be back home.”

“So am I, Seok. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, love,” he murmurs. I’m with you now, he wants to add. You can talk to me.

But you say nothing, closing your eyes and leaning your forehead against his. Seokmin’s thoughts begin to wander as he weighs his options: should he be straightforward and ask you outright, or should he wait until you’re ready to talk? He imagines the latter would be the better solution, but he knows you well enough to know that you always try to bottle your feelings up.

He recalls the first time you broke down in tears in front of him; it was early on in the relationship, and you were in your fourth semester in university. You’d been given an assignment, one you were struggling to finish under the pressure of its nearing deadline. Naturally, it made you compare yourself to others who you thought were miles ahead of you.

He remembers having a hard time stringing together the words to console you, because seeing you in such pain wounded him in ways he could never describe.

“You can tell me,” he could only manage back then, his arms wrapped around you as if that alone could shield you from all the pain in the world. He’d take it in your stead if he could. “Whatever it is that’s upsetting you, you can tell me. I promise I won’t laugh. I promise I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, that’s not it, not at all,” you’d replied in between sniffles. “It’s just me overthinking again. I know it’s stupid.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t dismiss how you feel.” He kept repeating these words. But it seemed like nothing he was saying truly left its mark on you.

“You-you’ve also had enough on your plate already, and I wouldn’t want to add to that—”

“It doesn’t matter, love. Even if I do have enough on my plate, I still wouldn’t mind. I’d still want you to come to me.”

Your body shook as you tried and failed to contain your sobs. “I’m so, so sorry, Seok, I didn’t mean to cry but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m so sorry you have to see me like this. I... I didn’t mean to ruin the night. I didn’t to be an inconvenience to you.”

Oh, he thought, his heart breaking in two. He never even once saw you that way. He never, not even for a split second, thought you were an inconvenience.

He couldn’t understand why you felt guilty for feelings you had no way of controlling. He couldn’t understand why you felt ashamed of being human. He could only hug you tighter, could only watch like a fool as you fell apart in his arms.

And then he felt it, simmering beneath the surface—anger.

Anger at whomever it was that had the gall to make you believe you were ever an inconvenience. Anger at himself for having failed you so terribly. He’s your boyfriend, for god’s sake. You were supposed to be able to trust with him. And clearly he’d done an awful job at making you realize that he doesn’t mind you crying in front of him.

He doesn’t mind sharing the emotional burden you’ve always insisted upon carrying all by yourself. None of it matters to him if it means that you’ll feel less alone.

And this time, he won’t repeat the same mistakes again.

He pulls away to look at you, and your eyes snap open at the movement, your hands dropping away from his face.

“You sure everything’s alright?” He asks you again. “You don’t sound well at all.”

“Mhm. My nose has been stuffy since this afternoon, I think. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, nothing a few cups of tea won’t fix.” You take a few steps back from him, decidedly avoiding his gaze. “Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up and then we eat?”

The warmth in your tone from earlier has chipped away, replaced by a stiffness he’s grown all too familiar with. The kind that always tinges your voice whenever you’re dodging the truth. The kind that tells him you’re building your walls back up.

Alright, then, he thinks to himself. Waiting it is.

“I’m gonna get a bath running for you, okay?” You say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to freeze.”

He stands up from the chair so quickly he nearly stumbles. “No, no, that’s alright.” He moves closer to you. “You don’t have to. I’ve got it.”

“No, no. I can do it for you.” You’re still not looking at him in the eye. “You must be tired from all that work.”

His jaw clenches a little. Even as you’re struggling, you try to put everyone else before you. You refuse to let him take care of you.

And finally, after a long silence from his end, he makes himself nod.

“Okay, then. I won’t take long.”

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

God, you think to yourself, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands. What a long, shitty day it has been.

You never knew staying at home the whole day could leave you so emotionally drained. It began the moment you realized you’d nearly missed an important online meeting because you’d thought it was scheduled for tomorrow. In your rush to get yourself prepared for said meeting, you managed to spill coffee all over your work papers, the smudged ink rendering the words illegible.

After the meeting, it took you seemingly-endless hours trying to salvage whatever remains of these papers. Because these papers are the same ones you’ve spent months carefully drafting, writing, and revising after every feedback from your boss. The same ones you’ve spent countless of sleepless nights poring over to see if there is anything you’ve missed, to make sure all the details are in line with the facts.

And for someone who thrives with the help of daily to-do lists, this whole thing stresses you out. Your schedule for the week is already very packed as it is, and the idea of not doing a few tasks that you really wanted to get done today, all because of this stupid, stupid mistake of yours that you could have easily avoided...

You feel like screaming. And you certainly feel like an idiot. What makes you think you could pull off juggling a university major with part-time work?

By now Seokmin must have already figured things out, despite your earlier efforts to pass it off as nothing more than symptoms of a cold. But there’s no doubt that he knows. He’s too observant to have missed anything.

And the fact that you’ve spent the last thirty minutes or so sequestering yourself in the bathroom isn’t helping your case. Try as you might, you don’t have it in you to face him like this, not when it’s so obvious that you’re frustrated. More frustrated than you probably have the right to feel.

Then there’s a soft knock on the door. It clicks open and Seokmin’s face slides into view. “Hey, love. May I come in?”

You nod, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, of course.” You pretend to pat your hands dry. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, shutting the door behind him. He moves closer until he stands right behind you, his hands finding your waist, his chin resting on the crook of your neck. “Just that you’re taking so long in here and I’m starting to miss you.”

A laugh weaves its way out of you—the first genuine one of the day. You’re not surprised; if there’s anyone you know who can lift your sunken spirits in a matter of seconds, it has to be him.

“I miss you too, Seok.” You turn around to properly look at him, putting your arms around his body, his warmth enveloping you as he reciprocates the gesture. “You know, I was actually thinking...”

“Yeah?”

“What about a movie after this? I wanna get all cozy with you and watch something while we eat the snacks you bought earlier.”

His smile is soft as he regards you. “Sounds like a plan. Got anything specific in mind?”

“Not really, no. But I think I want something light-hearted. Like a rom-com? Would that be okay with you?”

“I’m okay with anything you want.” He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Just pick a movie, and I’ll get it up and running in no time.”

“Okay.”

As a comfortable sort of silence takes over, you allow yourself to think you got away with it, to hope that Seokmin would sweep it under the rug this time. But then his smile falls, a graver expression now taking its place, and that hope gutters out as easily as an unsteady flame. You stiffen, already knowing where this is going even before he speaks.

“But first, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Of course. You knew he would catch on, but that knowledge doesn’t make this confrontation any easier.

You try to keep your voice from wavering, forcing down the lump on your throat. “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong.”

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.” His fingers brush the darkened skin under your eyes, run down the side of your blotched cheek, as if to say, I can see right through you. The gesture feels so intimate that you have to look away, only to regret it immediately. It gives you away, leaves you with no choice except to start confessing.

“You knew?” The words escape you in an embarrassed whisper. What a stupid question to ask. Of course he knew. He probably found out the moment he stepped into the apartment, the lingering signs of your frustration clear as day.

“Yeah. When you sent me those texts earlier this morning, I knew something was wrong.”

Oh. And here you thought you were being subtle enough.

Seokmin hesitates for a moment, as if sorting out his thoughts. “I was... I was going to wait until you’re ready to talk,” he says by way of explanation, his brow lined with worry. “But I can’t stand not doing anything when you’ve locked yourself in here for the past half hour. I can’t stand the idea of sitting still when you’re just one door away and it’s clear that you’re not alright.”

You squeeze your eyes shut like you’d just seen a sight that stung.

“You can tell me,” he continues. “You don’t have to keep it from me.”

“I know that, Seok. I just...” you trail off, finding that it keeps getting harder and harder to hold back the emotions threatening to drown you. It takes you some time to muster the courage to look him in the eye again. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me if it upsets you like this. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? What is there to even talk about? Nothing really happened; you spent the whole day just contending with that cruel voice in your head that always tells you you’re not enough. That you’ll never be enough, especially because you manage to mess up even the simplest, most trivial of things. Especially because you let said things ruin your whole day.

It’s embarrassing.

At your silence, Seokmin shifts closer to you. “Talk to me, love. I’m here for you. I won’t judge you, I promise.” His voice is so gentle that for a moment, you’re tempted to just give in and tell him everything.

This isn’t about the lack of trust; it has never been, and even Seokmin himself knows that. And neither is this about worrying what his response would be. If there is anything your past experiences with him can tell you, it’s that he deals with your breakdowns in a loving, gentle way. Every single time.

He’s aware of your mind’s tendency to shove one worst-case scenario upon another until you’ve run out of space and energy to think about anything rational. Admittedly, it’s not the healthiest habit, and you’ve been trying to unlearn it, but sometimes there are days when you simply can’t cope and begin to spiral.

Despite everything, Seokmin always understands. You know he would understand now, but it’s precisely the reason why this is the last thing you would want to talk about. He’s the kind of person who feels deeply, who doesn’t need to try too hard to put himself in other people’s shoes. That act of sympathizing can be so draining, and you’re not willing to subject him to that. His work is exhausting as it is without you having to pile your struggles atop of his own.

All you can offer him now is a tight-lipped smile. “I wasn’t lying when I said it’s not a big deal.”

He shakes his head. “It’s clear to me that it is. And even if it’s not, I’ll still want to hear it all the same.”

The small, knowing tug of his lips tells you he can see what’s running through your mind. You find yourself having to bite back a dry laugh. Ridiculous, really, how you bother trying to hide things from him when he knows you as well as the back of his own hand.

“Even if it’s something I’ve told you many, many times before?” You ask, still giving him the option to move past this.

“Even so. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. We’ll figure it out, the way we always do.”

His kindness leaves a gaping hole in your aching heart. This, you think to yourself, this isn’t something you deserve. You’ve simply been fortunate enough to have crossed paths with him that one fateful night in a certain cafe, that night that changed the trajectory of everything else that came along afterwards.

A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Disappointed in yourself, you forcefully rub your eyes, only to have him reach out to stop what you’re doing.

He winces a little, as though he were the one on the receiving end of your roughness. “Careful, you’ll hurt yourself like that.” His thumb brushes against your cheek. “Here, let me do it for you.”

And it is at this moment that you finally break, the walls you’ve built to keep your emotions at bay crumbling under his touch as he slowly wipes away your tears. He treats you with the utmost care as you cry on his shoulder, listens to you as you try to recount to him all that has happened today. His attention stays undivided the whole time, even as you stutter or can’t seem to find the words to express how you feel.

“I know it’s the same problem every time,” you sob. You hate the way your voice breaks all over. “I know it may seem like... like I’m not changing at all, but I truly am trying my best, Seok.”

His free hand draws soothing lines down your back. “I know that, love. I have never once doubted you. And I can understand how hard it is to overcome this. But you can. You’ve gotten so much better than you give yourself credit for.”

That reminder that you don’t deserve him flits through your mind yet again, scolding you for not feeling ashamed. But the look on his face shows not even the slightest hint of ridicule or disappointment. Seokmin simply holds you in his arms and whispers in your ear over and over that everything will be alright. You want so badly to believe him.

Sniffing, you pull slightly away to meet his gaze. You don’t care for the redness in your eyes or the tear stains on your cheeks. It’s important that he hears this from you and sees the sincerity behind it. “You’re being so good to me, Seok. Too good to me. You always... you’re always doing so much more than I ever deserve—”

“Don’t say that—”

“And I can only hope that you’re alright with being stuck with me. I know I can be a lot to handle, and I can’t imagine I’m easy to love.”

At that, he stops talking, stares at you as though he has a hard time believing what he’s heard. As though waiting for you to take back your words.

And when you don’t, he asks, his voice low and serious, “Why do you think that way?”

Because you can’t think otherwise. Would he not grow tired of your problems? Would he not grow tired of you? Who wouldn’t when it’s the same shit over and over again?

He takes your silence as a sign to go on. “Do you really think that that’s how I feel about you? That you’re difficult to love because you go through problems sometimes? Because you have feelings like real people do, like I do?”

Pain flashes across his features, along with something else. It takes you a while to recognize it as anger, though you know that anger isn’t directed at you; rather, it’s on your behalf. “I’m so, so sorry that you were made to feel like you have no right to be sad or upset when things are difficult. But I’m here to remind you that whatever it is you feel, it’s valid.”

You say nothing in return, feeling the weight of his words as they sink in.

“I’ve seen the way you treat others,” he continues. “I’ve seen how deeply you appreciate and care for them. You don’t think twice when it comes to helping people, even the ones you barely know. But I’ve never seen even just a shred of that same kindness when it comes to yourself. You constantly beat yourself up for simply being human, and you have no idea how much that breaks my heart.

“And it makes me wish you’d see yourself the way I see you, because maybe then you’d come to learn all the wonderful qualities you have that you always seem to look past.” He lifts your hand to his lips, leaving a trail of kisses along your knuckles. “You’re a student working a part-time job; don’t you realize how impressive that is? Not to mention the fact that you’re getting better and better at not overthinking when it used to be tough for you. All this progress has never escaped my notice or anyone else’s, just your own.”

You’ve calmed down by now, your crying reduced to small sniffles. It’s still hard to keep your eyes open, and it’s even harder to come up with a response. But you’re content with simply hearing what he has to say, and your heart is full of tenderness and warmth. He’s never once failed to make you feel so loved.

“And as for what you said earlier about me being stuck with you”—he pecks your lips softly—“I hope you know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going to love you any less because of your struggles.”

His declaration hits a little too close to home, rubbing at a lifelong wound that has yet to heal. After all, the reason why you hadn’t wanted to get into a relationship before Seokmin came into the picture was fear. Fear that once your partner discovers just how ugly and messy things can get for you, how much emotional baggage you carry, they will leave.

A part of you has always known that confiding in Seokmin would make it hurt less. But a greater, selfish part of you is afraid that he’d grow tired of putting up with you and your constant problems. Maybe you’d never dare to admit it out loud, but the truth is that you would rather struggle alone in silence than lose him altogether due to your honesty.

But Seokmin sees through all that. And instead of leaving, he stands by your side and holds your hand through it. He holds your broken pieces as you try to stitch them back together.

And all the things he’s said about you... you know he truly means every one of them. He’s genuine in everything he says and does. But you can’t wrap your head around the idea of someone great like him can see you that way. It’s a surreal thought, one you never dared to entertain before now.

But maybe he’s right. Maybe you’ve been too hard on yourself. You’re certain that if it were anyone else going through the same, exact motions as you are now, you wouldn’t tell them the hurtful things you hurl at yourself at any given chance. And you’ve always known that progress is never linear, and falling down once or even a dozen times doesn’t eliminate all the previous steps you’ve taken. It doesn’t diminish all that you’ve accomplished, all that you’ve done to be better.

Whatever it was that Seokmin saw in you that one night from two years ago, when he asked you to be his, it doesn’t matter. For the millionth time, you’re so glad you took the leap and trusted that he would catch you.

All these new thoughts running through your head, all these feelings of fondness and love for him coursing through you, yet you can only manage to ask him this: “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know all the right things to say every time.”

He lets out a small laugh, relieved that you’re no longer as upset as you’ve been before. “Because I’m only saying the truth. Loving you is a commitment, a decision I make every single day. And that decision comes easily, willingly, because you’re so, so easy to love.”

You feel like crying all over again, but for the right reasons this time. God, you really are the luckiest person in the world. “So are you, Seok. I hope you know that, too,” you say as you pull him into a hug.

“Feeling any better?” You may not be able to see him, but you just know that he’s grinning.

“Yeah.” You nestle up against him. You don’t ever want to let go. “Thank you for always hearing me out. For not only accepting me as I am, but also encouraging me to be the best version I can be.”

“I can say the same thing to you, too.” He kisses your brow. “Thank you, love. For all the times you’ve held my hand and kept me grounded and going when it’s so easy to give up. You’ve been there for me in ways I can never explain, and I’m so, so grateful.”

It truly is the least you can do for him. You snuggle your head into his shoulder with a contented sigh. “Thank you for always giving the best hugs.”

He laughs heartily at that. “You can have all the hugs you want, I promise. But I need you to promise me one thing in return. Promise you’ll never hesitate to let me know whenever you’re not feeling okay. I’m here for you, and I don’t want you to go through things alone. I want you to let me take care of you.”

You glance up, your eyes meeting his. “I promise, as long as you do the same and let me take care of you, too.” And when he nods, you add, “I love you.”

He’s beaming so widely that you can’t help but do the same. “I love you, too.”

It’s been true all along: home is not a place but a person, after all.

— ☽ —

author’s note: not so proud of how this fanfic turned out, but i’m still glad i got it done because it truly helped me get through a tough time. i hope that you find comfort reading it as i did writing it. lots of love and take care ♡

[callsigngrim]

Eldritch Konig xGN reader

MDNI!

The winner of the poll!

Tentacles smut Konig is cocky

No physical description of reader no description of gender.

Please enjoy!

The cave was dark and moist. Filled with the sound of pitter patter from the storm raging outside. Of Course you just had to go on a hike in the middle of nowhere alone.

It also didn't help that you felt like you were being watched.

Sighing you walk into the cave deeper hoping to find a dry patch where you could hopefully make a small fire and try to get some sleep without freezing to death.

As you make your way deeper into the cave you're amazed to find the walls of the cave lined with drawings!

They looked old depicting people who seem to be worshipping some sort of otherworldly creature. It looks huge adorned in gold with tentacles sprouting from its back?

You shake your head. Deciding that the small patch of dry ground near the end of the cave would be sufficient enough. You quickly pile the wood you had briskly grabbed onto the floor using some dry leaves a kindling to get the fire going.

It's slowly starting to get a little warmer. Enough that you can take off the heavy jacket that was completely drenched from the heavy pelts of rain.

You use your bag as a makeshift pillow while you snuggle into your sleeping bag.

It wasn't ideal laying on the ground with who knows what crawling around but you were too tired to care. You just hoped you didn't wake up with spiders in your hair. As you shifted to get into a more comfortable position you didn't pay any attention to the walls that seemingly started to glow a faint yellow. Nor did you see the tentacles painted on the walls start to move. Twisting and curling away from the paint. 

And forming into solid pieces. The creature that had previously just been a painting had magically emerged hidden in the shadows watching the frail little human.

You were a tempting little thing shivering from the cold. Oh he couldn't wait to warm you up. After all, you were the one who set him free. 

You were shaking from the cold, the fire having long since burned out leaving a few glowing embers that hardly gave any heat.

You were going to die. Alone and cold with a bunch of weird paintings on the wall… Were the fuck were the paintings?

As you're laying there trying to figure out if you've officially lost your mind due to the cold. Sometimes in the corner catches your eye. A massive form is standing there in the shadows and it's definitely looking at you. Glowing red eyes piercing through the darkness. You make a move to get up before you realise that something has slithered it way around your legs and arms.

You jolt screaming begging for whatever has you to please let go!

"Careful" the word echoes through your mind. It sounds human enough but you know it's not. No human is that big or has extra appendages sprouting from their backs.

"Please don't hurt me" you whisper hoping that the monster will spare you.

The tentacle have started slithering around you pulling the sleeping bag off and lifting you effortlessly into the air

"I will not harm you small human I simply wish to repay you for setting me free" that damn voice echoing in your head again.

"Repay me how'? "why"?

I didn't do anything you plead.

The dark tendrils pull you closer to the creature holding you at eye level. "Ah but you did you freed me from these walls and for that I have to repay you little one".

You swallow thickly it's unnerving being this close to the creature. It's watching you waiting for you to reply.

You could struggle but what if it decides to kill you if you try to fight?

"How would you repay me"? You regret asking the moment the monster's eyes start glowing even brighter.

"With pleasure little one" its voice comes out almost like a purr.

Gods this is terrifying  and humiliating at the same time. "If I let you pleasure me you have to promise not to kill me".

The creature seems taken aback.

"Why would I hurt such a sweet little thing"? It sounds almost amused.

"I'll have you begging me to take you over and over again sweet thing". You let out a whimper at that. Fuck that's not supposed to turn me on you think.

As if sensing your sudden arousal. The creature lets out a growl. "Konig" it says and you're left confused.

"My name sweet one so you know what to scream after I make you come on my cock"

"Fuck" you moan out he's someking of eldritch monster who could rip you to pieces at any given moment. But here you are dangling from its tentacles moaning like some whore.

"Please take me"

Different things happen all at once. Konig moves forward pulling you in for a kiss that leaves you absolutely breathless. Its not sweet or soft no its primal almost possessive in the way his long thick tongue explores your mouth. Next is the way the tentacles wrapped around you rip away your clothes and underwear none too gently leaving you exposed to the cold.

Then you pulled impossibly close to the creature as two more of his tentacles start exploring your exposed body, finally stopping at your nipples. They start twisting and pulling leaving your nipples hard and sensitive.

You panting when he pulls away only to let out a gasp as the tentacles that are wrapped around you legs spread you open leaving you completely exposed to Konig.

He lets out an appreciative growl. Slowly one of his tentacles move down to circle your entrance. The tentacle is covered in a thin layer of slime that it spreads around your hole slicking it up. Before it slowly starts to enter you inch by inch. You're moaning his name just like he promised. The two tentacles that are toying with you nipples start to speed up twisting and pulling leaving you high of the pleasure your subjected to.

It feels so good the way he moves you how he wants and how you entire body feels on fire everywhere he touches you

You're so lost in the pleasure that you don't see his huge cock leaking all over your belly as he moves you up and down his tentacles preparing you for what's to come.

"Fuck please I'm so close" your so close teetering on the edge just a little more and you be coming.

"Yes little one come for me show me how good it feels".

It hits you hard you're screaming his name as you ride out your orgasm.

You breathless but he's not finished yet.

He pulls his tentacle out of you slowly while you moan at the loss of him inside you.

He grabs you in his arms you back pressed against his toned chest.

You don't have time to catch your breath before he pushes inside you bottoming out in one swift stroke. He's big, filling you completely. You can feel every vein on his cock as he starts thrusting into you. His pace is brutal as he slams into murming soft praises as he fucked you deep and hard.

You were both moaning lost in the throes of pleasure. He was filling you up so well. You didn't have a single thought in your head.

"Fuck I'm close little one come with me let me feel you"

You both came yelling out as he filled you to the brim with his seed. Gods it felt amazing so much so that you blacked out from the intense orgasm you were having.

Looking down at your slumped form Konig couldn't help but chuckle. Poor little thing couldn't handle the pleasure he gave them.

Pulling the sleeping bag closer Konig layed down with you on top completely knocked out; he covered your sleeping form with the bag to keep you warm. You were so small compared to him. Knocked out from taking his cock once.

"I suppose we're going to have to work on that won't we little one soon you won't be able to get enough of my cock"....

[starssunsoftheinfinite]

so. I have been plagued. By thoughts.

Mainly of Loki. Loki being soft. Like,, male! Reader being so exhausted and unable to do much so. He takes care of them?? If that makes sense?

(Feel free to ignore!)

-💚

Sorry for the long wait! Stuff got pretty busy lol. This was a really fun thing to get me in the writing mood again though! There's another ask in my inbox so I'll get to that after! I just chose this one first since I knew it would be more low key (pun intended) and shorter.

I also wrote this on my phone so apologies if its a little odd looking I'm not sure if it'll translate well on laptops.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fluff/comfort

Male reader x loki

Pet names used (sweet boy, pet, love, my darling, dear (for loki))

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been overwhelmingly hard and incredibly overbearing. So much had happened at work, the job Loki insists you need not do on Midguard but you insist you do your part despite your lovers royal status securing more than enough money for the both of you. It was a retail job and while that may sound simple any mortal such as your self would know otherwise. Heimdall brings you back to Asgard and can already tell your warn out, satchel bairly handing onto your shoulder. "ah, y/n. You look well." he said in a genuine tone but it was clear by the smug look he was giving he meant to tease. You roll your eyes playfully "ha ha" you said, tilting your head to emphasise each exaggerated laugh. "Loki is waiting for you in your chambers." Heimdall says helpfully, smiling softly and giving a nod to urge you down the rainbow bridge. The walk was long and tireing, your thighs and calves hurt already, the hours of standing causing them strain, so a long walk was not ideal. Finally you pressed your palm against the cool gold doors of your shared bedroom and you throw your bag onto the armchair in the corner. "be careful you may break something" Loki teased and you roll your eyes, you've done that a lot today. You sit at your desk, planning to doodle. Nothing serious just mindless scribbles until your mind feels less like bile. You pull out the drawer and take out a pencil then go to sharpen it. Snap. The led breaks. Snap. It breaks again. Snap- "ugh!" you yell. Loki had already been keeping an eye on you, easily able to tell something was testing your patience. His eyes widen and he stands from where he lay on the bed, shutting his book. "Love? Are you quite alright?" he whispers softly, standing beside you but not too close, wanting to give you your space. "Im- mm" you barely begin the second word before your face is scrunching up and you whimper. Today had been so difficult but now you'd been pushed over the edge by something so small. Hands reach out to cup your face, crouching down a little to your sitting level "oh my sweet boy, no, don't cry. It's alright. I'm here my Darling." he cooes and you sink into his touch, whimpering and quivering. "today has been difficult hasn't it pet?" all you could do was nod. There was a comfortable silence between you two as he held you close. "up to your feet sweet boy, come to bed with me." he offers, gently helping you out of your seat and leading you to the soft sheets and comfort of bed. Loki crawls in and opens his arms, motioning you to lay against his chest and you happily do so. He runs his fingers through your hair" everything will be all right my love, everything will be alright. "he soothes and it's like his words are law. Your muscles loosen and your head grows empty, far too focused on the calming sound of his voice the gentle touch of his hands." there you are. No need to worry or fret. I am here. You are safe here. " he hummed. As the world melted away and all you could hear was Lokis voice and the comforting continuous sound of his heart beat, all you could feel was his hands on your skin and in your hair, and all you could smell was the warm scent of his lavender shampoo and black cherry soap, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier. "that's it sweet boy, you deserve rest. Take as much as you need. I will be right here when you wake. I promise." he hooked a finger under your jaw and tilted your head up ever so slightly. He craned his neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I love you, my sweet Prince." he whispers and a small smile graces your lips "I love you too Dear.." your sentence trailed off into silence and soft breaths.

[aheckinmess]

Quiet Strength

(Part 6 of Cursed, Not Cute.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Sukuna, Ryomen Sukuna, Ryoumen Sukuna, OC Child, Satoru Gojo, Child Satoru Gojo, Protective Sukuna, Sukuna is Bad at Feelings, No One is Surprised There, Angst, Fluff, Mostly Fluff/Comfort Because I Needed It, Tiger Spirit, Baekho, We Love Her, Headcanon of My Own Fic, That She Attached Her Spirit to Besu Because Their Levels of Sass Mesh So Well Together, Sukuna is Not Impressed, But He'll Get Over It, Gojo Still Has Yet to Learn Proper Self-Preservation Skills

Word Count: 1,640 words

Summary: While Besu and Gojo battle a brush with death, Sukuna finds himself having a dilemma about what to do regarding his daughter's growing compassionate ideals. So, when she comes rushing in asking for his help with Gojo, he determines there's only one decision he can make to show her where he stands on the matter.

Chapter 6: Quiet Strength

Sukuna felt a shift in the atmosphere, no doubt from Besu’s cursed energy. When he felt Satoru Gojo’s added onto it, he waved it off as the two sparring. Normally, he might feel more concern for his only daughter, except that he was having a dilemma on her behalf.

He paced across the luxurious den with his eternal scowl in place, disfiguring his tattoos as Besu once again had his damn emotions in a twist. The more she grew, the more Sukuna was forced to acknowledge that she was growing into a woman with her own ideals. Ideals that didn’t fit with his destructive mold. Ideals that he’d originally hoped would be in line with an heir befitting the terror of his name. Instead, Besu clung to her compassion as viciously as Sukuna devoted himself to his destruction. 

If he weren’t so focused on what he should do, he might have detected the second wave of desperation coming from Besu’s cursed energy only a few blocks away.

Instead, when Besu’s shouts echoed through their vast mansion, he huffed from the top of the stairs, irritated at being torn from his musings.

“What do you–Besu?” The reasons for her childish screaming through the halls immediately became clear when he saw a bloodied corpse in her arms. Sukuna’s mind worked just as quick as his body as he rushed over to her. “What the hell happened?!”

Possibilities played through his mind. Had his daughter finally fulfilled her purpose as his wanton successor of savagery? Or was it something as simple as the boy doing something reckless and stupid to cause her to look so afraid and adamant as she presented Gojo to him?

When Toji’s name fell from Besu’s lips, Sukuna could only gape at her. Revenge boiled in his veins but lowered to a simmer when she handed over Gojo. Suddenly, Sukuna could only see her as she’d been at seven, terrified and begging her father for help.

His heir. His daughter. His world. 

Her maroon eyes pierced his chest more precisely than any dagger ever could.

“Dad…please don’t let Satoru die.” 

Sukuna shouldn’t have been so torn by the decision as his daughter swayed forward and he caught her with his second pair of arms. He wanted to heal her and ignore the bothersome Gojo brat, but Besu remained a weak spot in Sukuna’s armored psyche and it was clear her injuries were not as life-threatening.

Plus, he’d been the one to suggest she find friends in the first place because he’d promised it would be beneficial to her to have allies. And he’d be damned if he ate his own words. 

“You little shits.” Sukuna growled, before turning to Gojo, who barely clung to life.

“You would speak so callously of Toji’s slayers?” Baekho’s form drifted into the mansion - or had she always been sitting there behind Besu? - seeming duller than usual. “I will care for the cub. You take care of young Satoru.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Sukuna hissed, lashing out as fear gripped him by the throat. “Remember your place, beast.”

“You’d do well to remember yours, young Ryomen.”

“Young? Tch. I’m over a thousand years old.” He snarled, using reverse cursed technique and watching the boy’s injuries fade as blood still stained his skin.

“And my spirit was here at the beginning of time to watch the birth of this world. You are all young to me. Now, shut up and heal the boy.” Baekho snarled, touching her nose to Besu’s forehead as her stripes glowed and Besu’s injuries disappeared. “Besu will need ample rest. She will not be waking for some time.”

“Why not? Was this your doing?” Sukuna hadn’t felt so feral since he’d executed his month-long war for the takeover of Japan. Few matched him in terms of strength, but hearing that his daughter might not wake up brought out a different sort of unhinged rage within him. 

“No. Her power has expanded and evolved.” Baekho replied calmly, nudging her muzzle under Besu until she could heft her onto her back. “My own rage allows me an increase in power, turning my spirit and energy red. However, it would appear that the culmination of young Besu’s rage and my own amplify that power even more between the two of us. Coupled with your technique that you’ve taught her, your cub is a force even Toji was unable to match.”

“You mean my technique that Besu has yet to execute properly?” Sukuna sneered.

“I mean your technique that Besu used to deal the killing blow.”

. . . . .

Besu woke up feeling like she’d been hit by a truck. After blinking a few times in the dim light, she remembered that “truck” was Toji Fushiguro. When she grunted and turned to see her father asleep on a couch across from her bed, it suddenly didn’t matter.

“Daddy?” She whimpered, muscles groaning under every attempt at movement.

“Mmm…? Bechan!” Sukuna jumped to her side in a moment, sheltering her from the harsh danger of the world as he pulled her against his chest in a hug that squished together all of her broken pieces. Every broken part of her felt stitched together and whole again. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“Everything feels sore.” She said, closing her eyes and feeling much like she wished she had as a child - protected and prized by her father. But her eyes flashed open as she looked up to him with a frantic question. “Is Satoru okay?”

“The boy is fine.” Sukuna rolled his eyes. “I’m told you fought Toji Fushiguro and came out the victor.”

“Baekho was responsible for our ability to come out victorious. Satoru and I weren’t able to land many hits. It was only when he was hurt that I felt capable of doing any real damage.” Besu sighed, her eyes falling to her deep blue quilt. 

“Baekho herself told me that you used my technique to deal the final blow.” Sukuna said, forcing Besu’s eyes up by lifting her chin with his finger. “You’ve grown so much.”

“I know. I am sorry I have not grown into the daughter you’ve desired I would become.”

“No, you haven’t.” His words choked her, disappointment squeezing the breath out of her. Was that why he was squeezing her so hard? Had he finally overcome his sentiment from her childhood and decided to dispose of her before she could ruin everything? “You’ve grown into something better.”

The world as she knew it crashed around her feet, scattered in an ocean of tears as her father’s words urged her closer to his chest. She knew the moment couldn’t last, that this tender moment didn’t fit the King of Curses and he’d quickly usher her away when he felt too awkward about showing emotion.

“Don’t think this changes anything.” Sukuna’s muscles tensed before relaxing again. “But we’ll talk about it later. For now, you must rest. Baekho says your power has grown and it took a lot out of you.”

“But what about Satoru?” Besu frowned.

“Yeah, what about me?” 

Gojo’s lanky figure reclined against Besu’s door frame and every worry she had disappeared in the glistening blue of his eyes.

“Satoru!” She bolted upright and forced herself to her feet.

Big mistake.

Sukuna caught her when she toppled forward and smirked as he ushered her back into her bed. Besu also didn’t miss that Gojo went from leaning in the doorway to the center of her room by the time she was in bed.

“No need to kill yourself on my part.” Gojo shook his head, keeping a wary eye on Sukuna as he did. Similarly, Besu watched her father eye Gojo speculatively.

“You can stop glaring at each other, you know.” Besu huffed, before the absence of another stole her breath.

Baekho! Where are you?! Are you–

I am here. The tiger chuffed in her mind, relaxing Besu with her familiar rumble. You are not ridding yourself of me that easily.

“I think I have a right to glare at the boy that put my daughter in a situation where she might have been killed.” Sukuna said.

“It wasn’t my fault! Besides, I thought the great and mighty King of Curses would have trained his daughter better.” Gojo snorted.

“Hold your tongue, brat! If it wasn’t for Besu, I’d have let you die! Hell, I’d have dealt the final blow and been done with you!”

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, before Besu sent him a glare that capsized his attitude, rendering him silent.

“I see your brush with death may have humbled your spirit, but you’re still ignorant in the way of self-preservation.” Baekho swirled from Besu and the bed, floating between the group as she stretched her back and claws. 

“Yeah, well…” Gojo shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I figure you all can grant me some patience, seeing as I nearly died.”

“Not as much patience as I’m granting you to stand so far away from me.” Besu finally found her voice, reaching out her arms in an unspoken need.

Gojo smiled, softening instantly before he spared a glance at Sukuna and stepped over to wrap Besu in a hug.

“I’m glad you’re alive too, ya know?” Gojo whispered. “I was terrified I’d find you waiting for me in the afterlife.”

“Oh, please. You’d have been waiting for me, first.”

“No way! Or…well…maybe. But only because I was actually on the offensive! Plus, you had Baekho!”

“I’m just hearing excuses…” Besu laughed.

“Ha! Maybe I should have let you do all the work then!”

And as the two bickered, Sukuna watched, a now-familiar warmth in his chest. Because even though his daughter stood for everything he claimed to be weak, he could doubt it no longer.

His daughter’s strength rivaled even his own.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

In Defense for Sabo (Why hes appealing to me)

To be perfectly honest, I am absolutely down bad for Sabo. I am a Simp in every sense of the word. So understand, I am biased by this point- That out of the way, he's perfect your honor. He's so tragic, so cool, and so silly- i think people overlook him because out of the ASL trio he has the least amount of screen time of the three- but everytime he's there it's a wild ride

I coukd write a really shitty 100k word thesis on this bastard(affectionate) so I'll try my best to keep it short

How do I even begin this? What hooked me initially on his character as a whole was how he was born into nobility and instantly hated it. He could see how messed up the people around him were even as a child, Hes a born anarchist. So he runs away and meets angry child Ace and then they're both menaces to society with a plan on ditching this place. You know the backstory I don't gotta explain more but like, the whole ASL brother dynamic is amazing and hes so middle child coded. Then the tragedies begin- in literally every single way the upper class could be horrific and terrifying, it happens over and over within like no time just to really hammer into him his distaste for the whole system. To skip all the angsty details, He felt so cornered that he ran away. Just sets sail despite his age, then of all people to aim a weapon at him, a Celestial Dragon proceeds to give him amnesia for the next like 9 years of his life with some insane blunt force trauma. That gun was basically an explosive canon, the fact Canon!Sabo just has the eye scar is why so many artists headcanon him with a much bigger scar. How he survived that is just a testament to how he's just

Built Different™

Then he basically jumps into the deep end so to speak with no fucking memory. By the time Ace is setting sail- he's already insanely strong. He ends up second in command for a reason- he's smart, he's powerful, he's got that never ending well of stamina just like his bros, he's a beast

And what finally brings back his past? He sees the news about marineford. What rejogs his memories- is his brother fucking dieing. (Oda basically confirmed that if Sabo had his memories, Ace would have lived. I mean- pretime skip Luffy almost succeeded- putting Sabo in the mix would have absolutely turned the tides. But that's beside the point- as i said hes just strong) Sabo only remembered when it was already too late- like...holy shit- the Angst. Tragedy after Tragedy and he couldn't even try to help this time-

Listen, what I'm trying to say is He's cool and angsty (like every other character tbf lol). He's just like his bros, a crazy bastard with a heart of gold who breeds chaos by being himself and standing for his ideals. Luffy and Ace have some crazy bloodlines and ya know, D. But Sabo is just Sabo and is right there with them in levels of chaos from day one.

He's just Built Different™

His whole presence in Dressrosa was amazing and hilarious- he shows up for the first time in- ever, one whole body luffy hug later and he's in the coliseum in Luffys disguise being an absolute badass. He successfully gets Aces fruit and then destroyed the coliseum with one move- he has some insane Haki and wields a damn pipe at the same time (the fact its something he kept from his time with his bros is so 🥹 but the juxtaposition is hilarious) Evertime he fights in this arc it's them sitting up the altercation and next time you see him- hes won and moved on to the next thing he's doing. One of my favorite little things is after Dressrosa -when he talks to the few who weren't passed the fuck out- and he gives Luffys vivre card to the strawhats. Not his personal Card to luffy- Luffys to his crew. He hasn't seen his brother in at this point like 10 years and somehow had his DNA to make it- everyone overlooks his crazy but it's hilarious

One of the best hugs in the anime just saying ^

I was head over heels after Dressrosa ngl.

If Luffy is silly and Ace is hot cool guy, Sabo is right in the middle. I do think it's funny he's boiled down to the smart one of the three, he is, but he's also so much more. Also, as the person who originally asked what the appeal was said, yeah he also doesn't smell like a trashcan. He's the only one of his bros that takes a regular shower lmao. And while I do blame my insant love for the tophat look on my prior love of Jacob Frye from assassins creed, I think he's got style too. He looks good and he's wearing a damn cravat(the white neck scarf thing) most the time, he pulls it off. The movie look with the teal/cyan trenchcoat, the Reverie scenes, the newest episodes he just got animated in again-

He is beauty, He is Grace, I want him to sit on my fa- sorry

For context, they are responding to this post about Sabo

Wow, I'm impressed the one piece fandom never ceases to amaze me with your dedication to your characters

[perpetuallyconfuzzled]

(spoilers for TF:ONE cause I am screaming over robots)

I just love what they did for Dee/Megs and Orion/Optimus SPECIALLY how their ideal-vs-flaws were a ticking time bomb covered in red flags but this bitches are colorblind and deaf and I just need to RAMBLE Optimus is a selfless bot that wishes the best for others and we all know that, hell first bit of the movie and we are given, like, five examples back to back of how much of an idealistic he is but he is also trying to get others to be a bit rebellious and challenge the ideas that miners are JUST that and they have to stay as such and normally that would be it right? look what a good boy cinnamon roll he is good job Mr. Hero but there is a flaw to him that I love how well it compliments him and most bots actually call him out on it [tho it is treated as him being selfish when that really isn't the correct word] cause damn it it IS something someone who has yet to learn how to be a leader can lack no matter how well intention you cause damn this orion who may be a selfless idealist is very VERY inconsiderate He destroys CYCLES of hard work Elita had done, Get's Dee to risk his neck for him to saving his ass like literally taking a punch meant for him for flipping the bird to a superior officer, said friend tells him NOT to try anything stupid and just watch the race with him but ends up tricking him into said race and dragged to level "you ain't seeing the light of day again bro" Orion has his heart on the right place, don't get me wrong, but keeps making his plans WITHOUT the input of those that will get directly affected by said plan, he really goes with the idea of "its easier to ask for forgiveness than permission" even when it can always end in terrible consequences to many a bot because, in the end it is for the benefit of cybertron right? This adventure has him learn to actually stop for a freaking second and TALK to others without DECIDING FOR THEM he actually has to convince them to follow him rather than throw the situation at them hoping for the best without considering the consequences like he did with Dee and Elita, he lowers down and is HONEST and doesn't just go "this is for the best!" but "are you with me then?" cause consequences are supposed to be faced together instead of thrown into them you are suppose to give them a choice sadly he ends up learning it far too late Meanwhile, Dee shows all the signs of a pretty loyal mech cause no matter what dumb situation Orion decides to put them through he jumps in to help and support him in the end; sure, he will ramble and bitch about the situation but he is right behind when it counts even if they don't see each other eye-to-eye but it is okay for Dee since that dumbass is HIS dumbass and, therefore, his responsibility. Yet somehow, the flaw that makes Dee Megatron, out off all the things is the one that was beyond the detonator for this doom friendship because as vibrant and rebellious as his best friend is and as much as he makes a show of Fanboying over Sentinel and Megatronus as if wishing to stand by them he is, at the end of the day, a conformist, you even see it as early as the first few minutes into the movie when he takes a punch in the face for Orion; even when Dee laments how badly the punch hurts he doesn't think it was uncalled for, hell he tells Orion he DESERVED to be punched for "stopping a superior and tell him what to do" He sees himself as a lower being and that those in power have the right to enforced their power over those stepping out of line even if it means HE gets abused by it, he views himself and the rest of the miners as the 'low class who just needs to serve for the better of cybertron' and that's it, he would LIKE to have more in life but dreaming such thing only brings pain in the long run so shuts down every conversation Orion has with him about 'trying to be more than they are' cause in the end "We are weak, they are strong, we can never do what they can so why should we mourn in things that can never change? we just need to carry on"

So it makes sense that when they find out about Sentinel's Betrayal the one that takes it the hardest is D-16 cause not only has he been lied to by the one at the top of it all who also had his unwavering loyalty but his entire worldview pretty much gets set on fire and broken beyond repair cause damn it, he thought he was brought to this world to pretty much be a lowly servant to those that deserve power, that he was just never meant to be like them but now you are telling him HE DID HAVE A CHANCE? HE WAS NOT BORN TO PLAY THE ROLE BUT FORCED INTO IT BY THE WHIMS OF A FALSE IDOL?! HE LAID IN THE GROUND AND BROKE MANY A TIME JUST FOR IT TO BE NOTHING BUT WASTE? FUEL FOR THOSE STRONGER WHO CLAIM THE TITLE NOT BY MERIT BUT BY SHEER LIES?!?! ALL THE ABUSE, ALL THE MISTREATMENT, ALL THE MINERS LOST UNDER THE RUBBLE, ALL THE TIMES HE NEVER LET HIMSELF DREAM OR WHICH FOR MORE ALL FOR A LIE and he fell for it like an idiot he had always fallen for it like an idiot he was DONE being everyone's fool Orion was a Selfless but Inconsiderate and to become Optimus he had to stop hearing his ideas and listen to those he valued

D-16 was a Loyal Conformist but to become Megatron he had to learn that if everyone lies to you, why should you keep listening?