#slowly easing back into drawing with something simple

[cherryspeaches]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die - Chapter 1

Summary: Having lost everything, you joined the games with no hope or expectation of winning. Despite it all, you found something interesting in #001. Maybe you'd stick around a little longer. Chapter wc: 1.1k

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ugh. Shut the fuck up. The bed springs above me continued to creak, bearing the weight of the middle-aged man that lay on it. It doesn’t bode well to be a light sleeper in a room that you once shared with over 400 people. Little whispers, light snores and soft noises fill up the empty space of the huge room that you’ve been placed in, little rest is present amongst those remaining after the harrowing experience of witnessing death’s embrace, through a fucking children’s game of all things… You stare at the metal frame that lines and supports the bed above you, the only view that’s offered to you in this hellscape. Being placed in a very awkward third bunk placement has stifled your daydreaming tendencies, preferring the company and comfort of the make-believe instead of your present reality. You envied those close to the floor, being able to root their feet and center their bodies to the ground with much more ease. You also envied those closest to the ceiling, closer to the covered stars and having the room to breathe.  You chose to focus your thoughts towards your discontent with the sleeping arrangements, since the alternative is a reality you don’t want to face quite yet. Hoping that it’s been enough time since the lights went off, you slowly feel your pockets for your most treasured item: your older model MP3 player and wired headphones. Feeling it’s weight in your hand, you let out a small sigh of relief. You still don’t understand why they let you keep this when they confiscated literally everything else of yours, but you have noticed that they let players keep little items or trinkets like rapper extraordinaire Thanos with his entirely non-covert drug filled necklace, or that little old lady with that very gaudy hair pin that looks like it’s from the 60’s. You made a mental note to stay away from Thanos, those pretty little pills would do your attempt at recovery more harm than good. Unravelling the knot of your headphones, you go through the motions of placing each earbud in and turn on your device to play at the lowest speed possible, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or your precious music player.  Letting the music fill your ears, you wonder if it’s worth trying to figure out literally anything about this place or if it’s simply easier to embrace your inevitable fate, it’s something you’ve been asking for at least for the last ten years. Having lost both your parents in a truck accident when you were just 18 devastated you in more ways than you could have ever expected. Not only did you lose your parents who have worked diligently to raise you and your older sister, but you also lost your physical home due to repossession from the bank after failing to pay back the necessary debts just days before their accident. Your parents had taken out a loan to be able to pay for the business that your father started, which suffered severely when the pandemic did its rounds. With no other family to turn to as all your grandparents had passed, your family had booked a motel for a week to organise themselves and try and figure out a living situation first, before looking at debt repayment strategies. The only available location within the affordable budget was in a very sketchy area, where crime was as natural as breathing. It was to no one’s surprise that your parents ended up losing their lives, the mode of death however was a surprise… so simple for a place where violence surrounds you. 

Their passing allowed you no time to grieve. You reached out to your older sister for support however every call, message and plea went unanswered. You weren’t surprised, she fell off the face of the earth a few years prior to the car accident, claiming she “made it” with her rich new boyfriend. You’d never met him, and you never knew what became of her. You had no time to grieve for the loss of your sibling bond either. 

The few days after the funeral, you had reached out to your old friend to ask for a place to live while you sorted yourself out. She had generously allowed you to stay on her couch as long as you needed, it was then that you truly felt the gravity of your situation. You got busy trying to find a job, only succeeding with night shifts at the convenience store. Depression manifested suddenly and severely in the following months, drowning you in waves ever since then. To put it lightly, there were more moments than you cared to admit where you convinced yourself that it might be easier if you just gave up. It’s in those moments that you can never truly place what brings you back from the edge. Was it the hope of reuniting with your sister? Was it the delusion of a misogynistic concept of being saved by a rich, loving prince charming? Was it the innate human nature of being desperate to live? As you mulled over this, you saw a shadow move towards your right, drawing you away from your melancholic thoughts. Trailing your eyes across the room, you spotted #001 keeping to the walls and heading towards the door. Huh. 

You knew it wasn’t your business, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes follow him. 

You hadn’t given him much thought since the vote, writing him off to be comprised of human greed like the rest of those who voted to stay (yourself included), but there was something magnetic about how he moved. He was like…a cat. No. More majestic. A panther. It was subtle but he moved with purpose, with such intention. Around him was an aura that just screamed superiority, but not in a condescending way. You had no clue what his past was but you’d bet your last dollar he had been in a position of power at one stage of his life. Normal people don’t walk that way. 

Even now, you couldn’t even say he’s creeping or hiding his movements as he walks to the door. He continues to walk with grace and purpose, it’s almost as though he’s bending the shadows to his will, and that they will listen to his command. He reached his destination and began a conversation with the pink guard stationed there. You quickly lost interest as you couldn’t hear anything, he’s probably just another older man needing to piss in the middle of the night. 

How curious though. Maybe you’d watch him tomorrow too. 

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

a/n: ahhhhh my first time writing in a very very long time!! would rly love any feedback <33

[silkquake]

I love them.

The follow-up

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ warnings — dry humping and neck kissing with childe, he's very needy, fem! reader <3

receiving neck kisses was such a big turn on for you and your boyfriend childe was gravely aware of that fact.

it was something you had discovered quite unexpectedly, a simple touch that ignited fires deep within you when for the first time, a sensation of soft lips brushed against your skin, a whisper of warmth intoxicating your mind— and with childe? well, those moments were especially electrifying.

you tilt your head back, giving him access to the most sensitive parts of her neck as you grant him an unspoken invitation to take control. with ease, he explores the elegant curve of your throat as he leans closer, sloppily lapping at your flesh with enough spit to cover it wholly, his breath ghosting over your wet skin before his lips made deeper contact to feel your pulse.

in the beginning, childe always starts gently, never overdoing it and testing the waters— placing feather-light kisses along your jawline and nibbling at the skin before slowly working his way down to the more sensitive parts with drool sticking on his chin.

without dissembling, it really doesn't matter where he kissed you because each touch was enough to get your knees buckling— it was futile, really, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips and the start of your hips beginning to grind into his thigh.

in an instant, the harbinger smirks against your skin and welcomes your neediness— and for some reason it feels like he was playfully mocking your sensitive state or the fact that it didn't need a whole lot to get you to this point.

regardless, he was utterly pleased with your reaction as he knew exactly how to play you, how to draw out every ounce of pleasure from your body.

although that's not all because you see, after a while childe decides to put his knee between your legs, knowing full on well you cannot resist rubbing against it, cannot resist messing him up.

he quickly adjusts his position, keeping his knee pressed against your clothed cunt as you let out a whiny moan in response, your hips instinctively grinding into him, seeking more friction, more touch.

he intensifies his kisses and laps of tongue before sucking harshly on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his lips as he continued to brand you in a swivel of messy, drooled kisses all over your collarbones.

the taste of your skin and the way you writhed beneath him was almost too much to bear and childe could feel his own desire building on his growing bulge— making it out to be a mirrored response to the fire he was stoking deep inside of you.

by the way he was flicking and dragging his wet muscle along your skin, you could tell that his twitching erection was beginning to pain him as he greedily squeezes at your hips to grind your cunt against his knee himself.

a wave of tears slips through your lashes as you look at him, "feels good, hm?" he murmurs against your skin, his forehead glowing of sweat.

luckily, your desperate little nod was enough of an answer to get childe really hungry now as he melted his touch right there, on your swollen pussy and bitten neck, imprinting his voice and grunts into your flesh so you could forever remember how well he was treating you tonight.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[snowballseal]

hihiiii I adoreee your writing, it’s so good! genuinely so fun to read. if it’s not too much trouble, could I possibly request some sylus fluff?

maybe something along the lines of MC craving lots of affection/being a bit clingy towards him and just wanting to be near him after a while of being apart?

absolutely no rush or obligations if this doesn’t exactly pique your interest!! have a lovely day ❤️

Soft

Sylus X Reader (LaDS)

Summary: Just a little fic of you and Sylus reuniting after a while apart. You doesn't want to be apart from him and he obliges.

Word Count: 818

Note: Hi anon! I know this isn't super long, but I hope you like it! I love describing how soft Sylus can be for MC, and it felt like a cute, simple piece. I can write something longer if you'd like, just let me know!

---

“Sylus!”

The man lets out a low chuckle as you practically throw yourself at him. He catches you with practiced ease, arms wrapping securely around your waist as he spins you around. It’s like one of those cheesy romance flicks, other travelers rushing around you to greet their own waiting families, a bubbly yet tired kind of mirth warming the frigid, fall air.

It had been a month since you’d seen Sylus. A long, grueling, horrible month. While you love your job, you hate the extended training camps you have to attend every few years. Always in the middle of nowhere. Always with limited contact with the outside world. Limited contact with Sylus.

You don’t know how many nights you spent staring at the blank walls of your tiny dorm room, sleep nowhere to be found when all you could think about was how much you missed his touch, his warmth, him. It was like being terribly homesick, and all you wanted was to be back in his arms.

And now you are.

Even when your feet touch the ground again, you don’t want to let go. And neither does Sylus. His arms stay curled around your waist, face tucked against your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer, just breathing you in. You all but melt into his warmth, nuzzling against his chest with a happy, content noise.

“My, my, it seems my little kitten missed me,” he murmurs, low and teasing against your ear. You can practically hear the smirk curling his lips.

“Can you blame me?” You draw back a fraction to pout up at him. Those vermillion eyes glint down at you with a smug amusement, but you don’t mind fanning his ego a little right now. “We barely even got the chance to talk on the phone. It was awful and cold and exhausting. I don’t know why they wanted us training in the north, we were all just a bunch of sad popsicles.”

“Mm, sounds quite tragic,” Sylus hums, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. Your theatrics are endearing, and who is he to not play along? Hands tracing slowly up and down your waist, Sylus gives you a look of teasing sympathy, “Poor kitten. Perhaps I should take you home and find a way to warm you up, hm?”

Home. God, you love the sound of that. You’re home. With him. The thought fills your chest with a fluttering sort of excitement.

“Home sounds perfect,” you sigh, nuzzling back into him with an absolutely giddy smile. “Just, don’t let me go, mkay?”

The man softens and for a moment, he’s not Sylus the leader of Onychinus. He’s just Sylus. Your Sylus.

You make him different. You turn him into something soft, something tender, with your love. Like a balm soothing his sharp edges, his harsh nature. He never thought himself capable of such gentleness until he held you, until he felt the plushness of your body in his hands. Even though you are one of Linkon’s most capable hunters, something in him desires to treat you like porcelain, something otherwise vicious and bloody. Like a feral dog, licking your chin, body curved to be small and nonthreatening despite the sharpness of its fangs pressed against your skin.

And you never once flinched. Never once pulled away from his hands, even when his grip would edge on painful, even when his teeth would sink into your skin with a sinful need to possess something so soft, so sweet.

Though, he’ll play nice tonight, seeing as your body curls so tiredly into his, practically all your weight in his arms.

“Alright, sweetie,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I accept your conditions. You won’t have to worry about anything tonight, I’ll take good care of you.”

You hum your approval, though it sounds more like a purr. A smirk dancing across his lips, Sylus leans down and curls an arm under you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. He grabs your bag with his other hand, and starts back towards his motorcycle.

You forget all about the cold that night. Even the soreness in your muscles seems to fade away as you lay curled against Sylus’ side on his couch, a large, fluffy blanket thrown over the both of you, some movie humming quietly in the background.

And Sylus keeps his word. Not once does he let you go. Even when you start to yawn, eyelids heavy with sleep, Sylus simply lays out across the couch and drags you over his body, until you can stretch out like a cat over his chest. He keeps an arm locked around your waist, making sure you won’t fall as you finally, finally give in to the sleep your body so desperately needs.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

And you hope you never have to go on another blasted training mission again.

---

I'll be real, I think my personal headcannon is that Sylus is like a feral yet loyal dog. I use the comparison a lot, I feel. Like, he can be vicious and wild, but he'd bow for you, he'd get himself killed for you (if he could lol). He would have a loyalty so unwavering, and that's terrifying in a way. But also? Kinda sexy 👀

[st7rnioioss]

꣑ৎ BUNNY!READER x SHY!MATT STURNIOLO

shy!matt giving bunny!reader hickeys for the first time

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... fluff, kissing, hickeys, nibbling and biting into skin

you were close to doze off in bed with matt, the both of you lying on your back while holding hands. you were looking at how his fingers interlaced with yours, him doing the same. it was a small gesture, but you were both tinted a little pink on the cheeks.

“can i ask you something?” matt whispered with a soft tone, his gaze still locked on your fingers. with a slow nod and hum from you, he cleared his throat. “umm.. i just- i wanna try something. you can stop me if you don’t like it.. is it okay?” he mumbled nervously, his heart almost pounding out of his chest from the “super” difficult question.

you turned to look at him, meeting those beautiful eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with behind the glass frames resting on the bridge of his nose. “okay,” you whispered back, while he slowly sat back up, to gently spread your legs apart. for a second, you grew hot in the face, all the way down to your neck. you were sure he was gonna try something far more dirty and bold than he usually would.

but you relaxed a little again when he came to rest his knees between your thighs, super, super careful and gentle with all his movements, finally hovering his face above yours with a hand on each side of your head.

“umm.. jus’ tell me if it’s uncomfortable. i just- i just wanna try something out.” his voice was trembling, and you could tell he was nervous. you were just as tense as he was, but you nodded slowly with a faint smile—after all, you trusted him more than anyone else.

gently, the fingertips of his hand stroked across your cheek, tugging a piece of hair behind your eat, his face turning pink when he met your eyes. it was something as simple as the eye contact that made him flush, the reality of you actually experiencing his touch and the intimacy, being this close.

but he kept his eyes on yours, that same hand cupping your face while he swallowed hard. he then slowly leaned closer to you, his eyes fluttering shut when his lips pecked yours, leaving a slow and gentle kiss. you closed your eyes as well, gradually melting into the softness and gentleness of the kiss.

he was so, so gentle with you, almost scared that you’d break into a thousand pieces if he went too quick or was too rapid with his movements. he was basically always treating you like a little, fragile porcelain doll. he broke the kiss but was quick to return his lips to yours in another kiss that was just as feather-light as the other.

your tummy was fluttering wildly with butterflies—it always did when matt kissed you. the kiss felt like when you’d draw hearts about a crush’s name, and whenever they’d already be looking at you before you looked at them. that silly, giddy feeling that fluttered.

you were lost in the sensation until it stopped abruptly. your eyes fluttered back open, intently watching the way he slowly slipped his glasses off because they were in the way, messily leaving them on the soft duvet beneath you. the whole thing had your cheeks brightening, watching his lips curve into a soft smile at the sigh.

“you’re so pretty.. okay- i’ll, um, i’ll try.. just relax.” he muttered, the little compliment making you return the smile with a soft ‘thank you’, nodding when he told you to ease up a little. you basically melted further into the soft mattress under you, feeling his fingertips again graze your skin, this time over your neck to brush some hair out of the way.

carefully, and almost hesitantly, he ducked down to inhale the sweetness of your perfume, the scent he’d grown familiar with. softly, he pressed his lips to the skin of your neck, making the smile on your lips falter, falling into an o-shape. almost on instinct, you lightly wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, fingers grazing the soft ends of his short hair. he kept his hand beside your head, keeping him upright while the other one was running up and down your sides in a careful manner.

you’d never have anyone kiss you, let alone touch you, like this. the feeling was new, foreign almost—but it felt so good. matt was enjoying this far more than he thought he would. he’d never done this to anyone before as well, but he had an idea of how to do it correctly.

and shit, did he do it right. your head was fogging up into a big cloud, just from the simple kiss? your fingers traced up the back of his head, entangling with his soft locks of hair.

“oh- oh my gosh,” you whimpered when you suddenly felt his teeth gently nibble on your skin, sucking faintly into your skin. he was out of this world, desperate to hear more of those sweet noises from your lips. “is it okay?” his voice was quiet, lips never leaving your neck when he mumbled those words, gently prodding his tongue at the now red mark.

“y-yes.. i like it.” you breathlessly muttered, feeling his lips drag along your skin to a new spot, beginning to more confidently kiss and lick at the softness.

your words of confirmation only made him bolder, starting to lick and sink his teeth into your skin in a sloppy but gentle way. he didn’t want to hurt you at all, making sure to be thoughtful with his kisses.

more bunny!reader here!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @urmomlovesme12

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[flametrashiraarchive]

Can I request n/sfw headcanons for muzan x non violent demon reader?

(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

YES YES YES

Okay so you know this got my cogs turning and it ended up being more of a short story instead of headcanons lol. And yeah, I went with the idea of the reader being a demon who can draw strength from Muzan in... other ways 😏

Also this was an excellent excuse for me to write a "Muzan losing his composure and coming completely undone" fic so thank you thank you thank you 🛐

I hope you like it!

NSFW under the cut!

Succor - Muzan x Reader

(Non-violent demon reader, GN!Reader)

You were a curiosity. Another demon who did not consume human flesh– only the third such demon Muzan had heard of in a thousand years, and the only one of those three who wasn't actively revolting against him.

However, the thought did occur to him to simply dispose of you. You were defective after all, still clinging to your humanity. And you were weak too; slowly starving. 

Muzan had no use for you… and yet… and yet…

Perhaps it was simple morbid curiosity, or perhaps it was the wasted potential he saw in you. Before he transformed you into a demon you were beautiful, but once imbued with his strength and blood, you were divine… magnificent. And you were frittering that gift away.

"Explain yourself to me," he said as you knelt before him, barely clinging to your senses while he sat, poised and elegant as ever. "Why are you suffering like this for the sake of mortals? Why do you refuse to consume humans?"

"It's repulsive," you answered. He could hear the weakness in your voice even as you stared defiantly back at him.

The only blood you had ever consumed was Muzan's at the moment of your creation, and your body seemed to recognize that. The hunger in your eyes was palpable. It thrummed in the air between you. Your survival depended on getting more of it. You craved it.

Your stubbornness was obvious too, and if the past thousand years had taught him anything it was that minds like yours could not be changed with violence and threats. No, he had to win you over gently. He would have to love you into becoming the monster he needed. He would adore you into submission.

He leaned forward in his seat and placed two fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him. "You would be a very special demon if you would only feed."

Oh, your hunger was dizzying. You were fighting so hard to retain your composure. He slowly dragged his thumb across your lower lip, relishing the way your eyes closed in response to his touch.

You were lovely, despite your defects. 

"Eat," he said, his lips so close to yours he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. "Please. I do not wish to see you fade away."

He placed a tender kiss on your lips, and another and another. You were so fragile, so drained.

Then something in you switched.

His eyes widened as you suddenly gripped the back of his head, pulling him to you with a ferocity he did not think you were capable of. 

Overpowering you still would have been easy; as simple as swatting away a gnat. But this sudden burst of strength was intriguing. You kissed him deeper and deeper, your tongue easing past his lips as a soft, satisfied moan emerged from you.

Something twinged, low in Muzan's belly. It had been centuries since he felt anything akin to desire, but you were seemingly intent on unraveling him. With every passing second your passion blazed hotter… and your strength was growing. 

Your fingers clung to him with an iron grip, as if your very survival hinged on his kiss. His crimson eyes widened once more as the realization hit him– you were in fact drawing strength from kissing him. It seemed his saliva had the same effect on your demonic body as his blood. 

He kissed you deeper still, intrigued and excited by your newfound vigor. After a thousand years of living, Muzan had assumed he had seen everything, but there you were, proving him wrong. You were so greedy for it too, your kisses so passionate and hungry they made the world tilt a little. 

He pulled back to examine you. "My dear, I–"

His breath caught in his throat as your hands went straight to the fastening of his trousers. Your eyes were near black with primal hunger as you pulled out his semi-hard cock. You wrapped your lips around it without hesitation and began to suck his tip. 

"Ohh~" Muzan choked out, gripping the sides of the seat as your tongue swirled around the head of his dick and teased his slit. 

It didn't take long for him to go from semi-hard to achingly erect. The power you wielded over his body, his helpless involuntary reaction; it was humiliating. And yet he did nothing to stop you. His breaths shivered out of him as he fought with everything he had not to buck his hips up into your mouth so you would take him all.

"How… dare… y– nghh…" his back arched as you palmed his balls, and wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock, milking him with that same hunger you had while kissing him. 

Oh gods, that was it, wasn't it? You wanted his seed, you needed it to sustain your continued perverse existence. You would not consume human flesh but you would draw power from him instead.

"You filthy little thing," he whispered through gritted teeth as you lapped up each bead of precum dripping from his cock. 

Your eyes were no longer lifeless; they glittered with vitality. 

Muzan's thighs trembled as your lips slid up and down his shaft , taking him to the very back of your throat, licking and sucking like the greedy degenerate you were. 

The wooden arm rests of the seat creaked and splintered beneath Muzan's fingers as he squeezed them, gasping as the pressure in his core became unbearable and he drew closer and closer to release.

"You want it, don't you… hm? Ohh, yes, you want my cum. I'm going… I'm going to give it… to… y–" He gasped for air, shattering the arm rest entirely. "Ohhh… ffffuck…"

He came undone, deep, guttural cries emerging from him as you swallowed his spend with fervor until he was sure he had nothing left. 

And then you kept on sucking. 

"M-more…" you growled as you continued to lap at his overstimulated cock, pressing your hand to his belly and holding him down.

His hand darted up to the wall above his head with such force the wood shattered beneath his palm as he released a choked cry. Gods, what were you other than his undoing? The pathetic, broken sounds of his whimpers enraged him but he would not stop you.

Heat prickled across his entire body. His face was flushed and gleaming with a fine mist of sweat which only added to his humiliation.  All that strength and power, yet he was helpless as you sucked his cock. 

"Damn you, damn you…hhhgh…"

His second orgasm tore through him like a beast with its claws drawn. Your greedy mouth claimed him entirely, swallowing down every drop of his essence as he came again. 

"Ohh Gods… oh Gods you filthy wretch…" his body shuddered as his pleasure waned and you finally ceased your sucking. 

Still, you gazed at him and audaciously lapped his tip, ensuring you'd got every last drop. And when you were finally satisfied you sat back, as a contented smile spread across your lips. 

Muzan took your face between his hands and inspected you. Your eyes were burning with vitality. Your skin was flushed and warm. You were rejuvenated completely, as if you had consumed a hundred mortal souls.

Your beauty and power were unlike anything he had ever seen. Such a curiosity.

Further study was most definitely required. 

"Fascinating," he whispered as his pulse slowly returned to normal. "Yes, I think I'll keep you here with me."

[heytheredelulu]

Simple

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Imagine

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 1k (It’s a quickie)

C/W: It’s all smut. It’s literally nothing but cock sucking, okay?

Bucky Barnes enjoyed the simple pleasures in life.

A heaping stack of warm, buttery pancakes drizzled in maple syrup.

A glass of oaky, barrel aged bourbon, neat.

The sultry, nostalgic, slow jazz of the 40’s playing over the speakers he still couldn’t quite figure out how to connect his Bluetooth to.

His copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit”, worn and weathered from all the times he’d read it cover to cover while lounged lazily in his oversized armchair.

But perhaps the greatest pleasure he enjoyed was the feeling of his pretty baby’s pink, swollen lips wrapped around his thick and needy cock.

He’d had plenty of blowjobs before, many hot, wet mouths gagging on the impressive length of him but none, none of those encounters could ever compare to your ministrations.

He was smitten with you long before you’d knelt before him but it wasn’t until the first time you sucked the very soul from his body through his throbbing cock that he was fucking done for.

You were his, forever.

There was just something so beautiful about the way your soft hums of contentment vibrated through his shaft like you were singing him the chorus to the sweetest song ever composed.

The way your eyes fixed on him half lidded, attentive and responsive to his every twitch and pulse against your tongue. It wasn’t just the sheer skill of pleasing him that you possessed but the level at which you so clearly enjoyed the act itself.

Your eager wiggle on your knees while you suckled at his frenulum, your hand wrapped firmly around the girth of him as you traced the sensitive, velvet flesh of his cockhead against your soft, plump lips.

Oh God, the wanton groan that rose from your throat when you teased the tip of your tongue to his slit, lavishing the salty flavor of his precum on your taste buds.

And you hadn’t even put him in your slutty little mouth yet.

He’d always let you lead, slowly descending on him with your hands splayed on his muscular thighs, batting your lashes at him once he brushed the back of your throat as if waiting for him to cup your jaw and stroke your cheek affectionately with the calloused pad of his thumb like he always did while you ‘took a moment’ to adjust to his size. Part of him wondered if you really needed to adjust or if you just wanted to savor the look in his eyes as he committed the lewd image of you to memory.

You’d breathe heavily through your nostrils- the exhale blowing gently against the soft, dark curls at the base of his cock and the inhale shuddering like you were basking in the scent of him.

The first time you’d lapped at the seam of his sack with your tongue while he was seated to the hilt down your throat his toes curled as he gripped the arm of the chair with white knuckles, hissing out a string of curses.

Always so responsive to his body, you slowly eased off him, your hand stroking languidly along his thick shaft, applying firm pressure to the tip as you dipped down to gently draw his heavy balls into your mouth. The whine that erupted from his chest was a sound he’d never made before but then again, he’d never had a woman show much- if any attention to his sack during a blowjob, let alone roll them around in her mouth like they were a goddamn delicacy.

Lord have mercy when you descended on him again, your cheeks hollowed, your tongue flicking and swirling along his length, one of your dainty hands holding him firm at the base as you cupped and fondled his saliva-slicked balls with the other.

Somehow you even made gagging look seductive, inhaling sharply through your nose while your eyes watered and drool dripped down your chin, trailing across the hollow of your throat and leaving a wet sheen across your pretty tits.

Oh yeah, you absolutely had your tits out. Hell, you loved to be naked on your knees for him. It only made it that much easier for you to snake a free hand between your thighs, rubbing slow, gentle circles over your aching clit with the sweet arousal that wept from your cunt with how utterly turned on you were by sucking his cock.

You’d lose your fucking mind when he twisted your hair around his fist, shameless moans bubbling up from your chest as he bucked his hips, fucking himself down your throat. As soon as he’d pick up that merciless rhythm you’d slip two, sometimes three fingers into yourself, frantically pumping them to mirror his tempo until you came with a strangled cry, tears pricking at the corners of your lust-hazed eyes.

Holy hell that’d be his tipping point.

He’d hold your head firmly in place, his massive hand flexing against the back of your skull, his cock pulsing as he throws his head back, a deep and primal moan ripping through his chest as he comes hard enough to make his fucking ears ring.

Words of praise would fall from his lips in a breathless whisper as he caressed your cheek, lazily rutting his hips forward while you greedily swallowed down every last drop like it was your well deserved reward for your tantalizing efforts.

“Such a good girl.”

“So fucking pretty when you choke on my dick.”

“Oh baby, yes. Fuck, swallow it.”

“Shit, you’re so goddamn perfect.”

Sometimes when you were feeling extra submissive you’d sit back on your heels and open your mouth, proudly showing him the pearlescent fruits of your labors, pooled on your tongue.

You’d wait patiently, drooling unabashedly with a slack jaw as he tucked his spent cock away, zipping up his jeans and slowly buckling his belt while he kept you naked on your knees awaiting his order.

He’d pinch your cheeks in his large hand and dip down to press a kiss to your forehead, his chest swelling with pride at the power you allowed him to hold over you.

All the while, you’d stare up at him obediently with smoldering eyes until he’d nod, his lips twitching up into a crooked smirk before he’d finally speak his command in a low, gruff voice.

“Swallow.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @buckys-wintersoldier @terry2227 @wintrsoldrluvr

A/N: Yeah, idk where this came from-

I was feeling feral again.😅

💋Sj

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐰

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧. 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 547]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠], 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐜����𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

He didn’t make you feel embarrassed about it.

And when he offered to take you to bed with the knowledge that you weren’t as experienced as the other girls, he said a simple “ok.”

Eddie Munson worshiped you in ways you couldn’t have known had you not laid it bare before him. He eased you into it, feeling you with his fingers before slowly working you open and explaining that what you were feeling, the good and the bad, were normal and it wasn’t something to be afraid of.

His fingers prodded and probed. They searched and scoured and when they found the untouched plush of you, they found purchase in the reward.

You groaned into him, leaning your head on his shoulder in a strain as he pressed into you further—his own erection straining his jeans as he relished the memories dripping onto your mattress. It wasn’t much, but it was unlike anything he had ever had the fortune of experiencing.

Eddie whispered sweet nothings. Egging you on to reach a precipice, he didn’t bother to push that he wanted your first orgasm to be on his dick but one that you had control over. He let his thumb draw circles on your clit—the wetness gathering easy the longer you proved to him that you could indeed last longer than he assumed you’d be able to.

So, when you arrived at that end, Eddie felt the earnings of his actions in the smile and giggle that fell from your lips. But if he knew you as he did, you were determined to see this through—twenty-five and inexperienced was not something you wished to say anymore.

You palmed him through his jeans boldly. His skin erupted in goosebumps the longer he let you caress him and eventually, he stripped you and himself of the clothes you wore and shushed you when he entered your pussy.

You’d never felt such pain and pleasure at the same time. He said it would pass—and it did after awhile—yet it was far from romantic. You were stuttering, shaking, and a mess of emotions as the man who you’d grown to call a friend helped you beyond what friendship offered.

Eddie treated you with gentleness. Feeling your body give in to his touch, feeding off of your sounds and the new type of juices that spilled out of you.

He breathed you in and you let him guide you along a new path. He felt so different, so decedent pulsing inside of you. Thrusting in slow, agonizingly soft motions that made you think he was treating you like glass.

But if this was glass unloved, you wondered what glass would be loved.

Then he begged you. He begged you to finish for him, asking you to coat his cock in you. Flexing and focusing yourself on him was calculated and unnatural but you tried; grinding your hips against his wasn’t enough. You were so tight and new—he didn’t want to overstep but the fact he was the first to do this to you had given him hope, a lust so unlike what he knew he wanted.

It was enough, however, to get him there too.

When you finished, you clamped down on him so tightly that he had spurred himself to come too. You clung to his shoulders, a shuddered relief washed over you and then him, who pulled back to gaze into your eyes and settle on the fact that he’d offered for a reason.

And Eddie Munson was so glad you said yes.

As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic and any other fics that you choose to read of mine. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always very much appreciated. It keeps writers like me motivated—we all love to hear from you.

[bigboysfalldeep]

spiral&chill

Ben first encountered Charles on a quiet evening, scrolling through Grindr out of boredom more than intent. He wasn’t the kind of guy to often meet strangers from the app—he preferred getting to know someone a bit first. But when Charles messaged him, something about the man’s profile struck a chord.

Charles had a slim, athletic build, a sharp jawline accentuated by a neatly trimmed goatee, and eyes that seemed to sparkle even through a screen. His messages were witty, confident, and just the right mix of playful and direct. They chatted back and forth for a week before deciding to meet at a local bar.

When Ben walked in that night, scanning the crowd nervously, Charles had stood out immediately. He looked just as good as his pictures, maybe even better. There was an air of ease about him, a self-assuredness that put Ben at ease too. His French accent only added to his appeal, each word dripping with charm. By the end of the night, Ben was smitten, though he hadn’t let it show too much.

So when Charles invited him over for a casual evening of “Netflix and chill,” Ben had hesitated at first. It wasn’t something he usually did, and he had a hard and fast rule about not rushing into things. But Charles was different. Just being near him made Ben feel good in a way he couldn’t explain. Relaxed. Safe. Drawn in.

That’s how he found himself standing in front of Charles’ apartment door a few weeks later, shifting his weight nervously as he knocked. He’d gone for his usual laid-back look: a simple shirt, shorts, and sneakers. Nothing too flashy, but he felt comfortable. He bit his lip as he waited, butterflies flitting in his stomach.

The door opened, and there was Charles, more handsome than ever. He was dressed casually in gray joggers, a tight-fitting shirt that showed off his lean physique, and socks. His face lit up with a serene smile, but his eyes sparkled with something playful, something knowing.

“Benny,” Charles greeted warmly, his voice as smooth as ever. His gaze swept over Ben, not in a way that made him feel self-conscious, but appreciated. “Come in.”

Ben stepped inside, and Charles led him into the living room. The space was minimal but stylish, with clean lines and soft lighting. On the coffee table sat a bottle of wine, two glasses, and an assortment of snacks. It was cozy, inviting. Ben’s initial nerves began to melt away.

“I already picked a movie,” Charles said as he gestured for Ben to sit. “You’ll like it. It’s… so meaningful.”

Ben chuckled, unsure what that meant. “Okay, I’m intrigued.”

Charles settled in beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Ben could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his presence was calming, magnetic. Charles poured them each a glass of wine, handed one to Ben, and picked up the remote.

“Let’s see,” Charles said with a smile, pointing the remote at the TV.

The screen lit up, and instead of the Netflix homepage Ben expected, a vibrant, colorful spiral burst to life. It twisted and turned, the hues shifting seamlessly in mesmerizing patterns. Ben blinked, momentarily confused.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice light with curiosity.

Charles chuckled softly. “Just watch it, Benny. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Ben’s eyes were drawn back to the screen almost instinctively. The spiral was indeed beautiful, each movement smooth and hypnotic. He couldn’t look away.

Charles’ voice came again, low and soothing. “So beautiful, so alluring. You don’t need to think about it too much. Just let yourself watch it.”

Ben shifted in his seat, trying to focus on what Charles was saying, but his gaze kept returning to the spiral. There was something so calming about it.

“Do you feel it, Benny?” Charles continued. His voice seemed to deepen, each word drawing Ben closer. “How your body begins to feel warm? So relaxed, so tingly. Like all the stress of the week is melting away.”

Ben blinked slowly. His limbs felt heavy, yet a pleasant warmth spread through him, lulling him into a sense of ease he hadn’t known he needed.

“Yeah…” he murmured, not even sure why he responded.

Charles smiled, his hand resting lightly on Ben’s arm. “It’s been a long week, hasn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice to just… focus for a while? On my voice, on my words.”

Ben wanted to question it, wanted to ask what was happening, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He just kept staring at the spiral, its endless motion captivating him more with each second.

“That’s it,” Charles said, his tone soft yet commanding. “Feel your body relax, Benny. Let your muscles go limp, one by one. Just let go. You can trust me.”

Ben’s shoulders sagged, his body melting into the couch. A part of his mind screamed that this wasn’t normal, that he should snap out of it, but the rest of him felt so… good. Safe.

“Your body rests, and your mind begins to rest with it,” Charles continued, his voice wrapping around Ben like a blanket. “Doesn’t it feel nice? To let me in?”

Ben nodded weakly, his lips barely moving. The spiral was all he could see, and Charles’ voice was all he could hear. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only this moment.

And then Charles leaned closer, his lips near Ben’s ear. “Good boy, Benny. You’re doing so well. Now, let’s go even deeper…”

Ben’s head lolled against the back of the couch, his lips slightly parted as he stared into the swirling abyss on the television screen. Time felt slippery—had it been minutes? Hours? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. The sensations coursing through him were all that mattered. Charles’ voice guided him like a tether, soothing and irresistible, each word wrapping around him like a warm, silken cocoon.

“You stopped wondering what was happening a while ago,” Charles murmured, his tone intimate and laced with authority. He was close—Ben could feel the faint brush of his breath. “Or has it been hours, Benny? You can’t tell anymore, can you?”

Ben’s lips moved, but no sound came out. The thought of speaking felt distant, irrelevant. All he could do was sink deeper into the pleasurable haze Charles was weaving around him.

“Everything is just a pleasurable swamp of need now,” Charles continued, his voice curling into Ben’s thoughts like tendrils of smoke. “Your body. Your mind. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is how good you feel.”

Ben’s body responded involuntarily, a soft shiver coursing through him. He was dimly aware of his limbs moving, of his body shifting, but the hows and whys were lost to him. The effort of questioning seemed insurmountable, like wading through molasses. Instead, he let himself drift, wrapped in warmth and the promise of pleasure.

“Just the idea of resisting… it feels like too much work, doesn’t it?” Charles asked, his voice almost teasing. “Why fight the pleasure? The warmth that surrounds you. That engulfs you. That entices you.”

Ben felt a wave of heat bloom from his core, spreading outward until it seemed to touch every nerve. His mind, already softened and pliable, melted further under the weight of Charles’ words. Thoughts bubbled up like steam and then evaporated, leaving behind only a need that pulsed in time with his racing heart.

“The pleasure melts your thoughts, Benny,” Charles said softly. “It makes them leak out. And how could you resist when there’s nothing left? When your thoughts have just… dripped away.”

Ben’s breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping him. Somewhere, deep down, a part of him recognized the oddity of what was happening—the way it felt like he was observing himself from a distance, like an outsider looking in. But even that flicker of awareness was fleeting, drowned by the steady rhythm of Charles’ voice and the seductive pull of the spiral.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Charles said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial edge. “It feels like you’re having a conversation in your head, doesn’t it? Like someone else is talking about you, but not to you. But that’s silly, isn’t it? You’re alone, Benny. There’s only you.”

And Charles, Ben thought faintly, though the notion seemed to dissolve as quickly as it formed.

“I can’t resist,” Ben whispered, startled by the sound of his own voice. It came out clear and unbidden, as if it had been planted there and simply bloomed into existence. A tiny spark of panic tried to ignite, but it was extinguished instantly by a sudden, overwhelming burst of pleasure.

It started in his core, a white-hot bloom that radiated outward in waves. Ben gasped, his body arching slightly as the sensation consumed him. He felt his arousal peak, trembling on the edge of release, but it didn’t happen. Instead, the pleasure held him there, suspended, teasing him with its intensity.

“I am a good boy,” he heard himself say, the words slipping out without thought or hesitation.

The moment the words left his lips, the pleasure intensified, flooding him with another surge of heat. His mind felt like it was unraveling, each thread of thought dissolving into nothingness as his body obeyed without question. His hand moved—he wasn’t sure when it had started, or how—but it moved in slow, rhythmic motions, driven by a force he couldn’t control.

“Deeper down,” Charles coaxed, his voice a steady anchor. “Feel the pleasure guide you. Let it take you deeper, Benny. Let it wash through you.”

Ben’s hand moved in time with Charles’ words, and his mind followed. Each pulse of pleasure pulled him further down, stripping away what little resistance remained. He felt weightless, untethered, floating in a sea of warmth and arousal. His thoughts, already thin and fragile, collapsed entirely.

Ben's breathing quickened as he sat transfixed by the spiral on the screen, his mind melting into the swirling colors and Charles’ intoxicating voice. His body was warm and heavy, the tension in his muscles long since dissolved. The arousal burning through him was undeniable now, sharp and aching, straining against the fabric of his shorts. He wasn’t sure when it had begun, but it was impossible to ignore.

Charles chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate. “You’re so close, Benny,” he murmured, his hand resting lightly on Ben’s thigh. The touch was warm, firm, and grounding in a way that made Ben’s already scrambled thoughts dissolve further. “I can feel it. You’re holding so much inside, aren’t you? So much tension. So much need.”

Ben swallowed hard, his body shivering as Charles’ hand moved slowly, teasingly. The pressure on his thigh sent sparks of pleasure racing through him, each one pulling him deeper into the haze.

“You don’t need to hold it back,” Charles said, his tone both soothing and commanding. “Let me take care of you. Let me guide you, Benny.”

Ben moaned softly, his hips shifting involuntarily as the tension inside him built to an unbearable peak. He felt Charles’ fingers trail higher, pausing just shy of his cock. The anticipation was maddening, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak or move.

“You’re so good,” Charles continued, his hand now firmly cupping Ben’s bulge through the strained fabric of his shorts. “So obedient. So ready to let go.”

The contact made Ben gasp, his body trembling as pleasure surged through him. He was leaking now, the damp spot on his shorts unmistakable. Charles chuckled again, a note of playful satisfaction in his voice.

“Such a good boy,” he teased, applying just enough pressure to make Ben squirm. “You feel it, don’t you? How close you are? How much you need this?”

Ben nodded weakly, his head lolling to the side as his need consumed him. His body was no longer his own—every movement, every sensation was dictated by Charles’ touch, his voice.

Charles’ other hand came up to cradle Ben’s face, his thumb brushing gently over his cheek. “Look at you,” he said softly. “Completely mine. Isn’t that right, Benny?”

Ben’s lips moved, but no words came out. His thoughts were too scattered, too drenched in pleasure to form anything coherent. He felt himself leaning into Charles’ touch, his entire being surrendering to the man who had claimed him so thoroughly.

“Say it,” Charles coaxed, his voice a velvet whisper. “Say you’re mine, Benny. Let go. Let me have you.”

“I’m yours,” Ben whispered, the words tumbling from his lips without hesitation. His voice was breathy, broken, but filled with certainty.

The moment he said it, Charles leaned closer, his lips brushing against Ben’s ear. “Good boy,” he murmured. “Let go, Benny. Become mine.”

Ben’s entire body shuddered as the command sank into him, deeper than anything he’d ever felt. The pleasure, already overwhelming, surged to new heights, washing over him in wave after wave until he thought he might drown in it. His mind, already blank, dissolved entirely, leaving nothing but the echo of Charles’ words and the bliss that consumed him.

His back arched sharply, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he released against Charles’ hand. The thin fabric of his shorts clung to him, darkened by the evidence of his surrender, unable to contain the full extent of his release.

Charles’ chuckle was low and satisfied, a sound that made Ben shudder with lingering arousal. His hand remained firm, teasing and encouraging. “That’s it, Benny,” Charles said, his voice smooth and approving. “Keep going. Don’t hold back. Let it all out.”

Ben whimpered, his head tilting back as his eyes rolled. The pleasure didn’t ebb; it built and twisted inside him, pushing him to the brink again and again. His body trembled uncontrollably, his muscles spasming before finally going limp, leaving him slumped against the couch.

“Good boy,” Charles murmured, his tone dripping with warmth and pride. His hand moved from Ben’s soaked shorts to his face, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers. The touch was soothing, grounding, a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just happened.

Ben’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, his mind still swimming in the aftermath. His thoughts were soft and distant, his body utterly spent, but the sound of Charles’ voice anchored him.

“You’ve done so well,” Charles continued, brushing a stray strand of hair from Ben’s forehead. “You’re perfect, Benny. My good boy.”

Ben sighed softly, leaning into the touch. He felt weightless, floating in the warmth of Charles’ approval. Nothing else mattered—only this moment, and the man who had claimed him so completely.

Charles leaned back on the couch, a satisfied smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he took in the sight before him. Ben was a picture of pure surrender—his body slumped and trembling, his shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. The fabric of his shorts was soaked, sticking to his thighs, and Charles’ own hand bore the evidence of Ben’s unrestrained release, sticky and glistening.

Ben’s eyes were unfocused, half-lidded and glazed over, staring at nothing. His jaw hung slack, soft breaths escaping in uneven intervals. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, the effort leaving him even more vulnerable.

Charles tilted his head, his sharp gaze drinking in every detail—the tremor in Ben’s limbs, the flush that painted his cheeks, the way his body seemed to hum with the remnants of pleasure.

“You’re utterly spent,” Charles murmured, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Completely gone, aren’t you, Benny?”

Ben gave no response, his mind too far gone to process the words. It was as if every ounce of him had been drained, leaving only an empty vessel behind.

Charles leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a finger along Ben’s slackened jaw. The simple touch drew a faint sigh from Ben’s lips, a small sound that only deepened Charles’ amusement.

“You’ve done so well for me,” Charles said softly, his voice almost a purr. “Such a good boy. Just look at you.”

He chuckled again, low and indulgent, savoring the sight of Ben in his utterly surrendered state. There was no need to rush—Ben wasn’t going anywhere. He was right where Charles wanted him, lost and malleable, a masterpiece of submission.

Charles leaned back once more, his smirk broadening as he picked up his glass of wine, taking a slow sip. The night was far from over, but for now, he was content to simply bask in the result of his work. Ben, sweaty and trembling, completely undone, was the perfect picture of blissful ruin.

The spiral on the screen continued its mesmerizing dance, its colors swirling in endless, hypnotic patterns. Even in his utterly spent state, Ben’s body moved on its own, his hand sliding over the damp fabric of his shorts. The wetness clung to his skin, but he didn’t seem to care. He was lost, his mind floating in the pleasurable haze that Charles had woven around him.

Charles chuckled softly, the sound laced with amusement and satisfaction. “Silly boy,” he murmured, watching as Ben’s fingers toyed with himself through the soaked fabric, a faint, needy whimper escaping his lips.

With a click of the remote, the TV screen went black, plunging the room into a sudden stillness. The absence of the swirling spiral only seemed to emphasize the quiet, intimate atmosphere. Charles leaned forward again, his hand coming to rest gently on Ben’s face. His thumb traced along Ben’s cheek, wiping away the faint trail of drool that had escaped his slackened lips.

Ben sighed softly at the touch, leaning into Charles’ hand instinctively, his body responding even though his mind was still far away.

“I’m so glad we matched” Charles murmured, his voice warm and low. His thumb moved to brush over Ben’s bottom lip, his touch both tender and possessive. “You’re so handsome, Benny. My handsome boy.”

The words wrapped around Ben like a cocoon, drawing another faint moan from his lips. His eyes fluttered, but they remained unfocused, his body pliant under Charles’ hand.

Charles leaned closer, pressing his forehead against Ben’s for a moment, the intimacy of the gesture deepening the bond he had so carefully cultivated. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Aren’t you, my beautiful boy?”

Ben’s lips moved faintly, the words forming without thought, a soft and automatic response. “Yours,” he whispered, his voice fragile but certain.

Charles smiled, his satisfaction evident as he pulled back slightly to admire his work. His hand lingered on Ben’s face, his fingers brushing against his jawline as if to reassure him. “That’s right,” he said softly. “You’re mine, Benny. Always.”

Charles' hand moved with deliberate intent, his fingers brushing over the wet, clinging fabric of Ben's shorts. He pressed firmly against the sensitive flesh beneath, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Ben. The sound was soft, barely audible, but it was enough to make Charles’ smirk deepen.

“And this,” Charles murmured, his voice low and commanding, “this is mine too.”

Ben’s body responded instantly, a tremor running through him as Charles’ grip tightened slightly, possessive and unyielding. Ben’s head lolled to the side, his lips parting in a faint moan, his entire being surrendering to the touch.

“You feel that, Benny?” Charles asked, his tone teasing but laced with authority. “Every part of you belongs to me now. Isn’t that right?”

Ben whimpered, his hips shifting instinctively toward Charles’ hand. His words, when they came, were barely above a whisper. “Yours…”

Charles’ chuckle was quiet, almost tender, as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from Ben’s. “Good boy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against the damp fabric, savoring the way Ben’s body shivered beneath him.

“This is just the beginning,” Charles added, his voice a seductive promise. “You’ll learn, Benny. You’ll understand what it means to be mine.”

Ben couldn’t respond—his mind was too far gone, his body too overwhelmed. All he could do was surrender, letting Charles guide him further into the haze of pleasure and submission.

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[pretzel-box]

HII, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME REQUESTING SOMETHING IF IM DOING SOMETHING WRONG FEEL FREE TO DELETE THIS ASK, BUT I WAS WONDERING…. In one of his lines sebastian makes a joke about having cards and such, the later says “ive never played cards actually.. meaning to learn.”. SO WHAT IF, i were to kindly and politely ask for anything that includes gender neutral reader teaching sebastian how to play cards, thank you for reading this in advance :3

UNO!

words: 1,7k

tags: uno, the card game.

authors note: I had too much fun with this and added Uno into the scenario! Sebastian learns everything about the wonderful world of cards.

Years ago, during a weekend at your grandparents' house, your grandpa placed a worn stack of playing cards in your hands and asked if you'd ever played. At the time, you hadn’t—being young and inexperienced—but that was the day you learned. Every time you visited afterward, your grandpa would teach you a new card game, keeping you entertained for hours.

So, when Sebastian mentioned that he had a deck of cards buried somewhere among his tools, junk, and files, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. Excited, you immediately hopped off his tail, which you had been using as a comfy seat, and began rummaging through his things in search of the cards.

“Don’t expect me to play with you,” he huffed, trying to avoid getting pulled into your sudden enthusiasm. He tried to mask his lack of skill by pretending he simply didn’t want to play, but your excitement made it clear that he wouldn’t be able to escape.

Before he knew it, you were sitting in front of him, shuffling the deck with ease, your fingers expertly spreading and reassembling the cards in one fluid motion. The sound of the cards snapping back together caught Sebastian’s attention, and despite his initial reluctance, he found himself watching you with curiosity.

You smiled at him, seeing the interest flicker in his eyes. “Come on, it’s not that hard. I’ll teach you.”

Sebastian grumbled under his breath but sat down across from you, folding his arms as if to keep up the pretense of disinterest. “Fine. But I’m not going to enjoy this.”

“We’ll see about that,” you teased, dealing out a hand of cards to him. You started with something simple, a basic game that didn’t require too much strategy. As you explained the rules, Sebastian’s brow furrowed in concentration. He kept glancing from the cards to you, trying to piece together what you were saying.

“Wait, so I can only play a card if it matches the suit or the number?” he asked, holding up a card as if it might give him the answer.

You nodded encouragingly. “Exactly. And if you can’t, you draw from the deck until you get something you can play.”

Sebastian stared at his hand, clearly overthinking his next move. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered, his frustration starting to show.

“It will, just keep going,” you assured him, demonstrating a few moves to help him along. Slowly but surely, Sebastian began to understand, though he still looked uncertain with each card he placed down.

But as the game progressed, something surprising happened—Sebastian’s competitive side started to show. His earlier confusion faded as he began to grasp the game’s rhythm, and soon he was playing his cards with more confidence. You noticed the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth whenever he played a particularly good move, and it made you smile in return.

By the second game, Sebastian was leaning forward, more engaged than he would have admitted. “I got it this time,” he said, his voice tinged with unexpected enthusiasm. He played a card that blocked your move, his eyes lighting up as he realized he was starting to get the hang of it.

“Nice move,” you praised, genuinely impressed. Sebastian’s smirk grew, and he gave you a sidelong glance that was almost playful.

“Don’t think I’m going easy on you,” he warned, but there was no real bite in his words. He was enjoying himself, and it showed.

As the games continued, Sebastian’s initial reluctance was replaced with growing excitement. He began to anticipate your moves, even teasing you when he managed to outplay you. The grumpy, stoic man you were used to was momentarily replaced by someone who was genuinely having fun, and it warmed your heart to see him like this.

By the time you reached the fourth game, Sebastian was fully invested. He was still far from a card shark, but he was learning quickly and starting to enjoy the process. After winning a round a rare smile of his made a brief appearance.

“I knew you’d get into it,” you replied, happy to see him loosening up. “Maybe next time I’ll teach you something more challenging.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, the hint of a grin still on his face. “You think I can handle it?”

“I know you can,” you said confidently, shuffling the deck once more. “But first, let’s see if you can win another round.”

And so, the two of you continued playing, the shop filled with the sound of shuffling cards, quiet laughter, and the growing bond between a grumpy fish and his human friend.

Three days had passed since you first taught Sebastian how to play cards, and in that short time, it had become a regular part of your routine. Whenever there was a lull in your mission and you saw his open vent around, you’d pull out the deck, and Sebastian—despite his initial reluctance—would join you, slowly improving with each game. The more you played, the more his gruff exterior seemed to soften, revealing a side of him that was competitive yet surprisingly good-natured.

On the fourth day, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. When you walked into the shop that morning, a mischievous grin spread across your face. Sebastian looked up from his work, his brow furrowing in curiosity when he noticed the new deck of cards in your hand.

“What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the colorful box with suspicion.

You sauntered over to the table where you usually played, setting the box down with a flourish. You found this in a dumpster around one of the many office rooms. “This,” you said, holding up the deck, “is a game called UNO. I figured since you’ve gotten pretty good at regular cards, it’s time for a new challenge.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, still wary but clearly intrigued. “UNO, huh? Doesn’t sound too tough.”

You smirked, shaking your head as you started to shuffle the cards. “Oh, you have no idea. This game’s a bit different. It’s not just about matching suits and numbers—you’ve got action cards, wild cards, and, of course, the dreaded Draw 4.”

Sebastian watched as you dealt out the cards, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You began to explain the rules, showing him how to match colors or numbers, how to use the action cards to skip turns, reverse the order, or make the other player draw more cards. Sebastian listened intently, nodding along as he picked up the basics. But when you explained the Draw 4 and Wild cards, he gave you a skeptical look.

“So, I can change the color and make you draw four cards?” he asked, holding up the card and studying it closely. “That sounds a little unfair.”

You chuckled, enjoying his reaction. “It’s all part of the strategy. You have to know when to play those cards—and when to save them for later. Trust me, once you get the hang of it, you’ll see why it’s so fun.”

Sebastian wasn’t entirely convinced, but he went along with it, sorting his hand and planning his first move. As the game began, it became clear that this was a whole new level of challenge. The fast-paced nature of UNO, combined with the unexpected twists from action cards, kept him on his non existent toes.

At first, Sebastian struggled with the new mechanics, hesitating as he tried to remember which cards did what. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him concentrate, his usual grumpy expression deepening into a thoughtful frown. But soon, just as with the regular cards, he started to catch on. The competitive spark you’d seen before returned, and before long, Sebastian was playing his cards with growing confidence.

“You’re getting the hang of it once again,” you noted, as he successfully played a Skip card, blocking your turn and earning a satisfied grunt from him.

“Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Sebastian admitted, though his tone was more grudging than he probably intended. “Still not sure how I feel about that Draw 4, though.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” you teased, winking as you placed down your own Draw 2 card, watching as he groaned and drew two more cards from the deck.

As the game continued, Sebastian started to enjoy himself, even laughing quietly when he managed to reverse the play order right before you could make your move. It was clear that he was getting into the spirit of the game, and the playful banter between the two of you made it even more fun.

By the time you were nearing the end of the game, Sebastian had only a few cards left, his earlier hesitation replaced by determination. But just as he was about to play his second-to-last card, you laid down a Wild Draw 4, changing the color and forcing him to draw four more cards. He stared at the card you’d played, then at the stack he had to draw from, his mouth opening in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, though there was no real anger in his voice—just the frustration of someone who was so close to victory but had it snatched away at the last second.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter as you watched him reluctantly pick up the four cards. “Welcome to UNO, Sebastian. Anything can happen.”

He gave you a mock glare, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “This game’s ridiculous,” he grumbled, though you could tell he was already plotting his next move.

Despite the setback, Sebastian managed to hold his own, and when the game finally ended—with you barely winning by a single card—he was already asking for a rematch.

“Again,” he said, shuffling the cards himself this time. “I’m not losing like that twice.”

You grinned, happy to see him so engaged. “You’re on. Just don’t blame me when you end up drawing another four cards.”

As the two of you began the next round, the shop filled once more with the sounds of shuffling cards, playful competition, and the growing camaraderie between you and the man who was quickly becoming more than just a grumpy store owner.

[livelaughloveluffy]

The straw hat crew with reader who likes to give them compliments, but hates it when the crew gives reader compliments?

compliments - with the straw hat crew

a/n: ahhh thank you for the request!! it's been a long time since i've written a fic like this, so hopefully i can do it some justice!! 💗 (i like skimmed proof-read this so forgive me if there is some grammatical and spelling errors 😭😭)

a/n: (also sorry, the sanji girlie in me is always going to bring it back to sanji, so yeah... there's some sanji x reader in here too 😭😭😭)

a/n: ((sorry idk how to tag this guys 😭😭😭😭😭😭))

word count: fuck idk man, its kinda long though (hehehe that's what she said)

nothing but fluff here💗

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it has only been two weeks since you first joined the straw hat pirates, and it was definitely a huge change of pace from your life before them. the crew, as eccentric, spontaneous, and bold, as they are were also some of the kindest people you had ever met. you couldn't help but be in total awe of them. i mean- how could you not? the amount of countries they've helped, people freed from oppression, friends they have defended and supported even when the whole world was against them...

it was hard not to feel insignificant, through no fault of theirs, it was just a lot to live up to.... and it was hard to feel enough at times.

• ♡ •

while your time being apart of the crew is nothing to write home about, hardly even considering yourself a true member yet, you still couldn't help but be utterly amazed with the people around you, and you just couldn't help yourself but to let them know.

mornings on the sunny were truly a special time. the mouth watering smells leaking out from under the kitchen door, as well as the sounds of a soft melody from brooke's violin fill the ship.

"good morning brooke! what song are you playing? it sounds wonderful!" you ask as you made you way to the kitchen, too eager to see what wonders awaited for breakfast

"yohoho!! just a ballad i've been composing!" he replied, sharing a smile with you before you turn and open the kitchen door.

"it smells delicious sanji!! seriously, im salivating out there! when's breakfast going to be ready?"

a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, but after a quick drag from his cigarette he quickly regains his composure "you're actually right on time! i just finished up!!"

• ♡ •

after breakfast, you weren't surprised to find zoro working out, as he had told you "any second not training, drinking, or sleeping, is a waste" one of your first nights on the ship. you watched in awe as he carried an inhuman amount of weight with ease, not even breaking a sweat.

feeling your stare, his eyes wander to meet yours, "need something?"

"oh! um.. no sorry!! i just can't believe you can lift that so easily!! you're not even sweating!"

"well yeah, this is just my warm up" he replied, a small smirk appearing from the corner of his lips as you wandered away

• ♡ •

in the girl's shared bedroom, you found nami hunched over her desk, carefully and slowly drawings lines for yet another one of her maps. it had been a few days since you had seen this particular map, so you quietly peered over her shoulder to see her progress

"nami, this is incredible!! i could've sworn two days ago there was only a vague outline on this page!! look at that detail!!"

she turned around, beaming at you "thanks!! after years of practice i could draw a map this simple with my eyes closed!"

• ♡ •

the sounds of sawing and nails being pounded into wood grew too loud for you to ignore, so you finally decided to leave the girls room to see what the commotion was all about.

in the three seconds it took you to get to the door, the sounds had ceased. curiosity overtaking you, you couldn't help but step out and see what had caused it all.

the first think that caught your eye was a small greenhouse the seemingly appeared out of thin air, since it definitely wasn't here earlier, and usopp and franky opening up some colas nearby

chopper ran up to you, giddy with excitement "do you want to see the new greenhouse usopp and franky made? its perfect for all my medicinal herbs! now i can grow them here on the sunny!!"

taking the small deers hoof into your hand, you followed him down the stairs to the greenhouse. "wow!!! you guys just built this?"

"franky drew up the plans after breakfast and did the labor, and i added a special watering system!" usopp chimes in, ready to boast about their design, and for good reason

"consider me impressed!!! i may even dare to say that it's SUPER!" you proclaim, earning giggles from all three of the boys

• ♡ •

the following morning you woke up with a purpose. stars still in the sky from how early it was, you tiptoed out of the shared bedroom and to the kitchen. trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting anyone to hear you, you turned on the lights and gathered the ingredients to make some lemon bars, as a thank you for the crew, they did save your life after all.

as you baked, occasionally glancing out the kitchen window every once in a while you slowly saw the stars leave the sky, the moon disappear, and the sun slowly beginning to rise. its just about dawn now and your lemon bars had finally finished chilling, ready to be cut and served.

sanji, a typical early riser since he has to prep and cook breakfast, opened the kitchen door shocked to see the lights already on and you inside. "oh! mellorine!! i didn't expect to see your beautiful face this early! to what do i owe this pleasure?" he asks.

"sanji.. i'm not- um.... i just made some lemon bars... as a thank you for the crew.. maybe we could eat them with breakfast if thats okay..."

"of course we can!!! im sure i can whip up some stuff that would compliment them perfectly! get some rest! it's still super early, i'll call when breakfast is ready!"

• ♡ •

"breakfast!!!" sanji's voice rings throughout the sunny, and slowly but surely everyone made their way to the kitchen, you being the last to arrive. once you had been seated, you noticed sanji walking his way over to the table, with your tray of lemon bars in hand as he announces "this morning we also have a very special dish prepared by our newest member!"

luffy's eyes widen as he looks over at you and practically shouts in excitement "wow!! i didn't know you could cook! what did you make? im sure its amazing!!! i want some!!"

with all eyes on you, you couldn't help but feel a bit shy, the confidence and determination you had this morning suddenly dissipated "just some lemon bars... its really nothing special... i just wanted to thank you guys.. for everything.. it's just you're all so amazing, you guys are crazy talented and strong and so kind and thoughtful... its really nothing special... i'm sure they don't even hold a candle to the elaborate desserts sanji makes every night..." you mumble, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"i'm sure they're delicious! definitely better than anything our captain could ever make" nami says with a sly smile. "all this talk about food is making me even more hungry!! let's finally eat guys!" luffy shouts, grabbing for the closest plate of food to him, too impatient to wait any longer.

• ♡ •

one chaotic, fast and messy breakfast later, and all the plates on the table were practically licked clean.

"thank you for breakfast sanji, you outdid yourself as always! those omelets and the potatoes, freshly squeezed orange juice, delicious as always!" you said absolutely glowing, sanji's breakfasts truly were the best, you wonder how you ever lived a life without them before.

"thank you mellorine!! but those lemon bars! they were divine!! who taught you how to bake?" he asks.

before you can get a reply in, the entire crew bursts into an uproar of compliments.

"yeah!!! i never knew you could make stuff like that!! i might have you replace sanji!!!" luffy exclaims

"i totally would've thought sanji made them if you hadn't said anything!" nami says, usopp nodding along and adding "yeah!! i was totally worried they would be bad at first because you seemed so nervous, but i can't believe sanji didn't make them!"

a soft spoken "absolutely delicious" coming from robin

zoro, lifting his head up and meeting you eyes, decided to chime in on the topic "i guess they were good." but after an intense glare from sanji then mumbles "...really good" his cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

"they were SUPER!!!!" franky shouts, causing luffy, chopper, and usopp to giggle.

and by this point, the compliments became a bit overwhelming. you didn't feel confident enough to accept them, but didn't want to be rude and ignore them either. your silence was definitely noticed by the crew who began to quiet down a bit as your face grew hotter and hotter, blush way too visible to hide behind your hair, you looked down and muttered as quietly as possible "they're really nothing special... im glad you guys liked them though..." and rushed out of the kitchen as fast as you possibly could.

• ♡ •

you retreated to the crow's nest to collect yourself. it was truly the perfect spot on the sunny to get some alone time. out of sight from everyone, but still in a spot where you can enjoy the warm sun, the ocean breeze, and the sound of the waves crashing as you sail the sea.

thankfully, you managed to leave a book up here the previous day, so once you caught your breath and the blush cleared from your face, you read. just to take your mind off of the interaction with the crew.

• ♡ •

you weren't sure how much time had passed, as you had gotten unexpectedly absorbed in the story of your book, but it wasn't until you heard the sound of a lighter.

you look up to meet the sky-blue eyes of sanji, he takes a drag of his cigarette before taking a seat on the floor next to you. the two of you sat together for moment of silence, minus the sound of the waves beneath you both. a quiet sigh leaves his mouth, before he breaks the silence "i just wanted to apologize. i didn't mean to put you on the spot in there. we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"no you don't owe me an apology! really! it's fine!! i know you guys were just trying to be nice and compliment me but.... i don't know... " you paused to collect your thoughts for a second. trying to word how you felt. sanji waiting patiently, taking a couple drags before you finally found the words to continue talking.

"it's just hard sometimes.. to feel like i'm good enough... especially around you guys, i mean the countless people and countries you guys have saved, your strength, your kindness... sometimes, i guess i just feel like a fraud being in the same crew..."

sanji took a moment to consider your words and feelings, and with a quiet sigh said "yeah.. i get it. it's funny because i actually feel the same way sometimes... but you know, luffy chose you to be here for a reason, and even if you don't see that, he does. we all do. we all serve a purpose on the crew, one thats invaluable to our captain, and he has no doubts about what that is."

finally turning to meet those sky-blue eyes, you looked at sanji with a small smile. "thanks, that really means a lot.."

he returned your smile with a bigger one and replied "of course!! i mean.... come on, those were some damn good lemon bars and i think luffy would kill me if you never made them again."

you shoved his shoulder, and in between laughs, you look over and sanji and reply "whatever!!"

and it was at this moment, for the very first time under the warm summer sun and ocean breeze blowing through your hair and the faint smell of sanji's cigarette smoke, that you began to felt a little more sure of your place in the straw hat pirates...

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a/n: i totally didn't expect to make this as long as i did so thanks for sticking around if you made it this far!!! i love and appreciate you!! have a great day/afternoon/evening/night!!! 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 16 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob wasn't expecting to find Anna touching herself and whining his name when he got home early, but when he did, he made sure to give her exactly what she wanted. He was ready to tell her he was in love, but that sentiment was going to have to take a backseat to the plan that she was formulating in her mind. Anna was going to fight for what she wanted one last time.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, unprotected sex, smut, masturbation, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Being in Bob's house was getting to be progressively more of an issue for Anna. She felt comfortable and protected here. There were books and cozy rooms and delicious food. And Bob. Everything smelled like him and reminded her of him, and even the way he lined things up on his bathroom counter made her smile.

It was hard to keep her hands off of him, and she was starting to see that the feeling was mutual. She was feeling more confident around him. Everything was unrushed and easier this time. They'd already had sex. They were sharing a bed. But all the little kisses here and there were starting to build up into something more, and she wanted all of him.

When Bob left to play Dungeons & Dragons on Saturday night, she intended to do some chores and finish grading quizzes. But when she took the rest of her clean laundry upstairs to organize it, she was enveloped in his scent as she stood in his bedroom. She moaned softly and squeezed her thighs together, always surprised by how something so simple could turn her on when it came to him. She was still holding her only nice underwear set when she checked the time and realized she could probably get herself off before he got home. And once she got started, there was no stopping her.

The lace fabric felt amazing on her skin, and she consciously replaced the memory of buying this little getup to celebrate Kevin's thirtieth birthday with this new one. She crawled across Bob's bed, buried her nose in his pillow and moaned as she thought of him. A few nights ago, she felt his erection pressed to her thigh, and now she was thinking about how he would feel and taste on her tongue.

"Oh, god," she groaned softly, easing herself down onto her stomach, inhaling deeply while she rubbed her lace covered pussy against his plush bedding. She could so easily picture Bob above and behind her, pulling her underwear to the side and fucking her down into the bed while he braced himself with his strong forearms on either side of her.

Soap and tea and something sweet. His pillow smelled intoxicating. Just like his skin. She was so warm, she could feel a sheen of sweat along her back as she wiggled her hips slowly back and forth and ground down for more pressure. She rolled onto her back, easing her right hand down her neck to her breasts, teasing herself while she thought about how good Bob made her feel. Her hand continued down her body until it was tucked in the front of her panties, and she gasped at how wet she was.

Anna guided her index and middle fingers down into her slick, coating them before swirling them around her clit. She gasped softly, imagining Bob's lips plucking her instead. His cheeks felt a little rough with stubble last time when he had his mouth on her, and her panties almost offered her a similar sensation as the lace scraped along her inner thighs. 

Her imagination ran wild, like she was reading one of Bob's more graphic poems. Red hair and freckles. She had what he liked best. She braced her feet on his bed as she thought about his firm tongue drawing perfect circles on her pussy, and she emulated the motion with her fingers. 

"Oh," she moaned, working herself up, wishing she could feel his big hands on her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut as she started to flutter deep inside. "Fuck," she grunted. "Fuck me, Bob," she begged, remembering how his blue eyes focused on hers even as he pleasured her with his mouth. "Oh, god. I want you!"

Her back arched slightly off the bed as her orgasm washed over her, and she shoved her fingers as deep inside herself as she could. She swore she smelled him everywhere, and it felt amazing, but not quite as good as the real thing.

"Anna."

Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped as she saw him standing there in the soft, warm lamplight with his hand inside his unzipped pants. She pulled her fingers free of her soaked pussy as she watched Bob's wild eyes.

"Oh my god!" she practically shrieked, face flushing pink. "Bob! You're back early!"

He nodded, and she couldn't look away once she realized he was stroking himself at the foot of the bed. "I wanted to come back home as soon as I left," he panted. "I wanted to be with you. And now I want to fuck you."

"Oh," she sighed, getting up so she was kneeling in the middle of his bed, licking her lips. She was turned on all over again, nipples hard as she crawled toward him. His pretty cock hung out of his jeans, and she looked up at his face as she licked the bead of his precum. She swallowed him down and whispered, "That's exactly what I want you to do. As soon as I'm done here."

Bob stared down at her in a daze as she kitten licked the head of his cock, and then his hands were in her hair. "Anna," he whispered, and she could feel goosebumps breaking out on the back of her neck. She pulled him deeper into her mouth, and even his grunting sounded beautiful. His fingertips dug into her scalp as he responded to her mouth, and Anna took him deeper still. "Oh, god," he whined as her lip brushed his rough hairs, and she gagged. "Anna."

She pulled him free with a soft pop and looked up at him as she said, "I'm happy you came home early."

He scooped her up, and she squealed as he hauled her back up to the top of the bed. Once again, he was a little bit rougher than she anticipated, but he was also so sweet as she found herself propped up on his pillow with Bob on top of her. His hard cock was resting on her thigh, still damp from her mouth, and he was bracing himself with his biceps bulging. She reached up to cup his cheeks and kiss him softly as her thumbs ran along his stubble.

"You're wearing them," he muttered between soft kisses as he started rutting against her.

"Huh?" she sighed, fingers creeping back into his soft hair.

"The black lace. The bra and panties," he grunted as Anna spread her legs wider so she could feel him against her core. "I looked at them a million times in the laundry room. You look beautiful."

Before she could respond, his mouth collided with hers, and she reached down to get his shirt off. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. When she yanked it over his head, his glasses were crooked on his face so she straightened them out for him as she whispered, "I can't stop thinking about you. I think about you all day."

Then he was up off the bed, and she shivered without his warmth as she watched him kick off his shoes, sending them in opposite directions across the room before tearing off his jeans, boxer briefs and socks. He palmed his big, heavy cock, eyes wide as he knelt on the bed once more, and then her legs were thrown over his shoulders as he licked her through her underwear. 

All she could feel were stubble and lace on her sensitive skin as he soaked the fabric with his saliva before gently easing it down her legs. "All these freckles," he muttered to himself, and then his lips were on her bare pussy, and she had to grab fistfuls of the bedding. She was so wet from their combined efforts and her attraction to him, and her back arched off the bed when his lips wrapped around her clit. His hands slid up her sides to her breasts, and he yanked the bra cups down as he sucked on her. 

"Fuck," she whined, his big hands all over her breasts as he ate her out like they had been doing this for years. As if he knew exactly what she liked best. Soon Anna found herself riding his face, thighs tightening against his head. Maybe this is what he always did; treating women to his mouth before fucking them could have been his regular routine, but she was losing her mind over it for the second time now. And she wanted him to get rougher again.

"Fuck me," she begged, and his lips released her. He licked a long stripe up from her hole that made her shake in his grasp.

"Yeah?" he asked, making sure he had permission. His cheeks were flushed as he looked up her body at her as she nodded enthusiastically. "Last time you let me... cum inside you."

"Oh my god, yes," she moaned at the memory as his big hands squeezed her breasts. Then he was on top of her kissing and licking his way up her body, muttering about her freckles before pulling her nipple between his lips. His cock was right at her opening, and she moaned his name as he eased his hips forward and treated her to the tip.

When she tried to roll her hips for more, his hand pinned her down while he sucked on her breasts. And when she tried again, he released her long enough to say, "Don't rush it." All she could do was lay there with her feet braced against the bed and her sweaty palms clutching his sheets while he ran his nose along her freckles and tasted her skin.

After a few minutes, her teeth were chattering as she whispered, "Please? Bob. Please." And then her body relaxed until she felt like she melted as he thrust himself deep.

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

Of course he was going to give Anna what she wanted. He had one fist wrapped up in her hair and the other holding her thigh, keeping her spread open for him as he tried to concentrate on each thrust. But she just felt so tight, and her tits were bouncing above her lace bra. He kissed all the freckles on her neck and along her elegant cheeks, taking the time to lick the darkest one that was closer to her ear while she grabbed at his shoulders.

This wasn't what he was expecting to find when he got home tonight. He thought maybe she'd be asleep or snuggled up in his bed. Instead her fingers were knuckle deep in her pussy as she whined for him with her eyes closed. How was he supposed to do anything except fuck her until she had exactly what she wanted from him? How was he ever supposed to stop wanting her exactly like this?

He was in love, and he was ready to tell her now. He didn't give a damn about Kevin or anything else. He would wait as long as it took to label it, but he wanted to be in a relationship, and he never wanted her to stop sharing his bed. When he tugged on her hair, she looked up at him through slightly dazed eyes, and he said, "Baby, tell me I'm allowed to cum inside you."

Instead of the answer he was expecting, she giggled softly and said, "You can cum wherever you want."

"Fuck," he gasped, dipping down to kiss her neck again as he brought his fingers down to her clit. Then she got really loud for him as he stroked her and fucked her harder. The sounds of their bodies meeting and the sounds from her mouth were so indecent, Bob was already seeing stars. He was closer than he wanted to be, but he felt her start shaking as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He went deep and she tossed her head back, arching her breasts against him as he sucked harder on her neck.

As soon as she hit another orgasm, pussy pulsing around his cock, it was over. He came inside her before pulling out and decorating her belly and even her tits and that pretty bra as well before he was spent. He was still holding his cock, trying to catch his breath, when she reached for him and cleaned his tip off with her tongue. Her brown eyes were wide as she looked up at him with his cock between her lips, and he whispered, "You can't run this time. I need you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised, reaching for her discarded panties. "Clean me up so we can take a shower together?"

Bob nodded without saying another word as she kissed his softening cock and handed the underwear to him, guiding his hand down to the mess he made. She smiled and bit her lip as he wiped up his cum with the black lace, running it along her pussy and making her gasp his name.

"Come here," he whispered as he stood with the sticky underwear in his hand. He scooped her up when she crawled to him, and he carried her to the bathroom while she kissed along his neck. Without setting her down, Bob turned on the shower and let the water rinse her underwear as it warmed up. "Go ahead and climb in," he said, finally letting her feet touch the floor.

Anna's hair darkened to that irresistible shade of red as soon as the water hit it. She still looked a bit dazed as she stood there in her bra for a few seconds before finally removing it. Bob hung both pieces of her lingerie over the towel bar before he set down his glasses and joined her under the warm spray, and she tucked herself naturally into his arms. That's when he saw the bruise already blooming on the side of her neck, and he touched her there as he softly asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"Hmm?"

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face carefully away from him as he said, "I bruised you. Shit. Does it hurt?"

"No," she murmured, easing herself back into his arms. "It felt exquisite when you did it, and it doesn't hurt now."

"Good." He kissed the top of her head. "I never want to hurt you." The last person he ever wanted to make her think of was Kevin who seemed to have no remorse at all about leaving bruises on her arm and screaming in her face.

"You wouldn't," she whispered, barely audible over the sound of the water around them. "You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're Bob."

He held her close for a few minutes, enjoying the way her hands felt on his wet skin and in his hair. He kissed her softly and said, "Baby, you stole my heart." He grinned when she looked up at him with those hazy brown eyes and a little smile of her own, but then she gasped and jolted back a few inches.

"Wait," she muttered, releasing his body even as he still held onto her hips. Her gaze drifted away from his face as she worked her lip between her teeth, and when he started talking she shushed him. "I stole it? I stole it." Her gaze snapped back to his as she said, "I fucking stole it."

"Yeah?" he asked, concern crinkling his brow, unsure what to say, but it didn't matter, because she grabbed at his biceps and laughed loudly.

"I'll steal it." She gaped up at him with eyes wide as she said, "I'm going to steal it. You're a genius."

"I'm confused," he whispered as she laughed and buried her face against his chest and screamed softly. "So confused."

"I've figured it out! I'll steal my manuscript back from Kevin! It makes so much sense now!"

"It does?" he asked as she reached for his bottle of shampoo with a bright smile. 

"Oh, yes," she confirmed, working her hair into a lather. "And I think my idea is just unhinged enough to work."

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

They finished up in the shower quicker than Bob would have hoped given that he wanted to spend an hour running his soapy hands on her body. But it was after midnight now, and Anna was working through her plan silently with the promise that she almost had it in order in her mind. And soon enough she was wearing nothing but one of his undershirts with her damp hair clipped up on top of her head as she pushed him toward his bed.

Bob dropped down onto his back with his arms folded behind his head as she straddled his naked body and settled in with her hands on her thighs and her pussy resting on his abs. She clapped her hands together in excitement as he said, "You really put this whole plan together right after we had sex, huh?"

"I did," she confirmed with a giggle.

Bob snorted. "Bradley or Jake would call that 'post nut clarity'."

"Of course they would," she said with an eye roll. "But maybe they aren't wrong. I feel better than I have in months right now."

Bob smirked, feeling a little smug at the moment. "I'm ready," he said. "Tell me the plan."

Anna leaned down to kiss him once before settling back into her upright position with a smile. "I'm going to steal his computer from Kevin's hotel room."

Bob just blinked up at her. He opened his mouth and then closed it several times, unsure what to say. "Steal it? You realize you kind of sound like Nicolas Cage? Like you're going to try to steal the Declaration of Independence?"

"He did it successfully in the movie!"

"Didn't they basically tear apart the entire city of Philadelphia? Are you going to destroy San Diego?"

"Stop it," she said with a laugh. "I'm going to do nothing of the sort! But I've been spending all week thinking that there must be some benefit to still being married to Kevin."

Bob cringed. "Baby, please don't say those words. You don't belong with him."

She shrugged a little bit and nodded. "I know," she said quietly. "But it's still the truth. I'm stuck with him right now, but this might work. Besides, I finally accepted the fact I don't need my manuscript to be happy, but I do still really want it back. He doesn't deserve it."

Bob nodded too. "You're absolutely right. You don't need it, but you deserve it. So how are we going to do this thing?"

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted softly as she shook her head. "I can't ask you to help me with this. I can do it alone."

He sat up with her in his lap and wrapped both arms around her as his forehead met hers. "I don't want you going anywhere near him alone ever again."

"Well, I have his conference schedule memorized," she whispered. "I can do it without even seeing him. I think."

Bob sighed and pulled her down with him as he lay back on his pillow once more. "I want to help you." He drew little circles along her thighs. "Let me help you."

She yawned and curled up on his chest, and he held her just like he had been doing every night. "Maybe it would be a good idea to have someone there with me," she said slowly. "And I'm going to need to borrow a cocktail dress from Jessica. And possibly some nicer shoes."

Bob listened to her thoughts on the plan as she faded off to sleep in the very early hours of Sunday morning, more determined than ever to try to keep Anna with him. 

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

Anna spent most of Sunday in bed with Bob. They didn't leave the warm sanctuary until noon, and even then it was only because his stomach was growling aggressively loudly. He skipped his afternoon run to make two omelettes stuffed full of cheese and vegetables, and Anna kissed his worried brow a million times as she told him her plan once again for the following evening.

"If Kevin catches on to what you're doing..." Bob mused out loud as she sat perched on his lap at the table. "I don't know, Anna. It's risky."

"It'll be like an adventure novel," she insisted. "Like Dumas! Or Cervantes! Maybe even Robert Louis Stevenson!" When he still looked nowhere near convinced, she sighed and said, "This is it, okay? If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work, but I've already tried everything else. And I refuse to let my fear of Kevin dictate whether or not I'm even going to try to get it back one last time."

His blue eyes were bright behind his glasses as he said, "So, this is confident Anna. I like her, too."

She smiled, and once they finished eating their very late breakfast, she took him upstairs again, pushed him down on his bed, and straddled his hips. Twenty minutes later, Bob was babbling about confident Anna as she rode him until they both came.

It wasn't until Monday morning that the dreamy weekend gave way to something a bit more anxiety inducing. Bob definitely knew the plan, but he was quiet as he packed their lunches. When Jessica arrived, she knocked on the door and handed Anna a garment bag containing three cocktail dresses and a pair of black stilettos.

"What do you need them for?" she asked with a wink, looking past Anna to where Bob was lacing up his boots. "Are you two going out somewhere?"

Anna exchanged a look with him, and when she turned back toward Jessica, her friend looked decidedly less enthusiastic. "Not exactly. But thanks for letting me borrow them." After that, she kissed Bob goodbye and whispered, "I'll see you later tonight." Then she got in the car with Jessica and headed to work with Bob's lunchbox.

The ride was quiet at first before Jessica finally asked, "Did you have a good time on Saturday night? I think Bob was a little anxious to leave D&D to get back to you."

Her cheeks flushed pink as she buried her face in her hands. "Jessica. I'm so in love with him. Everything about Bob is effortless, and he makes me feel safe."

"So you fucked again?"

Anna laughed. "Yes, Jessica. We fucked again. And tonight, I'm going to get myself free of Kevin once and for all. One way or another."

"How?" her friend asked in excitement as she parked in the faculty lot next to the science building. But Anna was already out of the car and heading toward her own office so she could make it to her first lecture of the week on time.

"Thanks for the ride! I'll see you by the weird tree!"

There was a hopefulness inside her as she gave her Classics lecture. The fall term was winding down, and she was already looking forward to teaching again in the spring. She was ready to meet with the dean about tenure. She was ready for tonight to go smoothly so she could take full ownership of her life here.

When she approached her friends at lunchtime, Anna looked at them a little bit nervously. Asking to borrow a dress and some shoes was one thing, but she did need something else if she was going to play a convincing role later. She sat down between the two of them while they argued with each other about some law of physics that she didn't even understand, and when Jessica finally stopped long enough to take a deep breath, Anna turned toward the other woman.

"I know this is going to be a very strange request. And I'm sorry for putting you on the spot right now."

"Oh," Jessica said. "Does this have to do with Kevin?"

"Yes," Anna said, glancing at her quickly before turning back to Advanced Calculus, her sharp gaze concerned now.

"What do you need? I'll help you if I can," she told Anna with a shrug.

Anna's gaze fell to her left hand as she held the container of hummus that Bradley packed for her, and she softly asked,  "Can I borrow your engagement ring and wedding band?"

Without hesitation, she set the container down and started to twist the rings on her finger, loosening them to remove them as tears filled Anna's eyes. She never thought that moving to San Diego would change her life so much, but now she had two friends who would seemingly do anything for her without question.

"How long do you need them? Because Bradley is going to notice they are missing immediately when he picks me up later," she replied, dropping both rings into Anna's hand.

"Just for tonight," Anna promised, slipping them onto her own finger before anything could happen to them. She hadn't missed her rings one bit since she sold them off, and she already felt more protective of her friend's rings than she had of her own. "I can drop them off at your house later."

"Sounds good," her friend replied easily before biting into a carrot stick. "So according to Jess, you and Bob are fucking again? Why don't we cover that topic before lunch is over? And then you better fill us in on this Kevin business."

So with a poorly contained smile and the barest amount of details, Anna told them about her weekend and her plans for tonight and tomorrow.

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

Fight, Anna, fight! Send Kevin back to New Jersey empty handed! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[sophrosynesworld]

Chili Chocolate Cookies

What goes around comes around.

You can hear your daughter’s sobs through the door, her muffled cries filling the silence of your once-quiet home. She had slammed the door behind her the moment she stepped inside, shutting herself away from the world.

“Honey?” Your voice is soft as your fingers tap gently on the door. “Are you hungry?” You knew she wasn’t. But you also knew your daughter well enough to understand that addressing her tears directly would only make her retreat further into herself.

“Go away!” Her voice cracks, full of anguish and frustration. Whatever had happened at school today had clearly taken a toll on her. You lean against the door, heart aching, but you don’t push further. You know she needs time to process her middle school emotions, and the last thing she needs is someone barging in before she’s ready.

Instead, you do what Katsuki does for you when you’re overwhelmed by the world. You move quietly into the kitchen, your footsteps light on the floor, not wanting to disturb her. Humming softly to yourself, you start pulling out ingredients from the cupboards—flour, cocoa powder, sugar. The familiar motions soothe you as you level the dry ingredients and measure the wet, mixing the chili chocolate cookie batter with practiced ease. The scent of the rich chocolate and the slight kick of chili fills the kitchen as you place the tray in the oven.

You know she won’t resist for long. The warmth of the cookies, just like the warmth of your love, will eventually draw her out. And when she does come out, you’ll be ready to listen—not with words, but with the simple act of being there for her.

While the cookies bake, you move to the school bag your daughter left by the doorway, intending to gather any homework she might have. As you pull out a folder, a crumpled note tumbles out onto the floor. You didn’t mean to pry—honestly—but your fingers automatically reach for the paper, curiosity tugging at you.

As you slowly unravel the note, your heart sinks. The words scrawled across the page hit you like a punch to the gut:

Your dad might be a hero, but you’re nothing more than a quirkless freak.

Your breath catches in your throat. How could someone be so cruel? Your mind races, trying to process the pain your daughter must be feeling. Before you can think of what to do next, the door to her room creaks open. Panic surges through you, and you hastily shove the note back into her bag, tossing it onto the floor beside you.

“Are those almost done?” her small voice asks.

You look up, meeting her gaze. Your beautiful daughter peeks out from behind the corner, her face blotchy from tears. Those striking eyes, so much like yours, peer at you with a mix of hope and hesitation. Her platinum hair, a gift from her father, falls messily around her face. If you asked her Uncle Eijiro, he’d say she has his teeth, but you’ve explained to him countless times that’s not how genetics work.

“They need a few more minutes,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady as you turn off the oven light. You pause, then gently add, “Do you want to talk to me while they finish? I’ve been dying to tell someone about my day.”

“Of course.” Your daughter sits next to the counter, pushing her hair away from her face and getting comfortable. So, you ramble on. You talk about buying groceries, stopping by Katsuki’s office, and having lunch with him, even the workout class you took before coming home. You keep talking, keeping your daughter engaged with your stories, trying to bring a little light into her day. When the cookies finally come out, she takes a bite, her eyes widening in delight.

“These are so good!” Your daughter pauses mid-bite, chewing slowly as if she’s savoring the taste. After a moment, she looks up at you, her eyes hesitant but determined. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything.”

She shifts in her seat, glancing down at the table before meeting your gaze again. “Do you think I could be like you… maybe even Dad?”

You do your best to hide your surprise, feeling your heart skip a beat. “You… want to be a hero?”

Before she can answer, the sound of the front door opening startles her. She freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, then quickly scrambles out of her chair. “Forget I said anything!” she blurts out, her voice high-pitched with panic as she retreats back into her bedroom.

You barely have time to process her words before Katsuki’s voice cuts through the silence. “Why does my house smell sad?”

“It doesn’t smell sad in here, Katsuki,” you reply, standing up to greet him. As you walk over, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

Katsuki’s strong arms encircle your waist, and he gives you a small kiss before pulling back slightly to look at you. “It smells like chili chocolate cookies, which means something’s up. That’s her go-to comfort cookie.”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the day settle on your shoulders as you let go of him. “Those kids at school are at it again.”

Bakugo’s expression darkens, his frown deepening. “Which ones?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, frustration tinging your voice. “But they’re calling her names again. She’s miserable there, Katsuki.”

His jaw tightens, and you can see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. He’s always been fiercely protective of both of you, and the thought of his daughter being hurt like this is enough to make his blood boil.

“I just wish I knew what to say to her,” you admit softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your worries. “She’s hurting so much, and I feel like I’m failing her.”

“You’re not failing her,” Katsuki says firmly, pulling back to look into your eyes. His gaze is intense, full of the fierce love that’s always driven him. “You’re doing everything you can. She knows you’re here for her.”

“I just… I don’t want her to feel like she has to hide this from us,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “She asked if she could be like us, Katsuki. She’s never said anything like that before.”

He takes a deep breath, his expression softening as he processes your words. “Maybe that’s a good thing,” he says slowly. “Maybe she’s starting to see that she doesn’t have to be like everyone else to be the best."

Katsuki takes a step away, his expression clouding with something heavier.

“What is it?”

He exhales deeply, rubbing a hand across his face. “Can I be honest about something?” he asks quietly, the weight of his words already pulling him down. You nod, encouraging him to continue.

“I said those same damn things to Deku when we were kids. I called him a quirkless freak. I made him feel like he was nothing.”

You’re taken aback by his confession. Katsuki rarely talks about those days, the guilt he carries buried deep beneath layers of bravado. “That was a long time ago,” you say gently. “You’re not that person anymore.”

“I know,” he replies, but his voice is strained. “But hearing her talk about what those kids are saying to her… It’s like I’m hearing my own words all over again, and it makes me sick.”

You squeeze his hand, offering silent support. He’s never shied away from his mistakes, but the guilt he feels over how he treated Izuku still lingers.

“You’ve changed, Katsuki,” you remind him. “You and Izuku… you’re friends now. You’ve made amends.”

He nods, but you can tell it’s still eating at him. “I’ve spent years trying to make up for what I did to Deku, but seeing her go through this… It’s like I’m being reminded of how much damage I did. How much I hurt him.”

You don’t reply, knowing how rare it is for your husband to be this open.

Katsuki is silent for a moment, lost in thought. “I never understood why Deku kept going, kept trying to be a hero, even when I told him he couldn’t. He didn’t have a quirk, but he had something else… something I didn’t see back then. That’s what she has too.”

You nod, seeing the realization dawn on him. “She has that same determination, that same heart.”

Katsuki looks at you, his expression resolute. “I’m gonna make sure she knows that. I won’t let her go through what Deku did. I’m not gonna let her think she’s anything less than amazing, quirk or no quirk.”

You smile, feeling a swell of pride for the man he’s become. “And you know what? You’re showing Izuku that too. Every day, you’re proving that you’re not the person who said those things. You’re someone he can count on, someone who’s learned from their mistakes.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right.”

[dreamingofaizawa]

Posession

Ulquiorra Cifer x Fem!Arrancar!Reader

***18+ Fic*** If you are under the age displayed, please find your way to another station.

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), biting/marking, fingering, edging, overstimulation(?), choking/breath play, rough sex, VERY posessive Ulquiorra, spanking (ass and pussy spanking), liberal use of 'master' (both sexual and not) squirting, creampie, cockwarming if you squint, teeny bit of praise kink, dom! Ulquiorra, sub! reader, tiny bit of aftercare (ish), brief mentions of suicide (not descriptive, it’s used as a power grab/show of loyalty)

Word Count: 3.6k

Auhor's Note: Yeeeah....I'm making writer's block my bitch LMAO

Anywho, enjoy the depravity~

Being a fracción was a simple thing, really. Obey. Apologize. Obey. Especially under the fourth Espada, your job was easy. He’s reserved, quiet, but his silence does not convey weakness. It’s calculated, like everything he does. So you must be as well. You match his stoic facade, keep everything in check. You’ve learned to read his every fractional expression, most of his thoughts you’re able to read without struggle. Once you’d begun thinking like him, it became infinitely easier to remain as his fracción and remain unpunished, for the most part. 

With all of that in mind, you can’t fathom what you missed. 

He’s cornered you in your personal quarters outside of your usual fracción duties. If he needs something urgently, he can easily summon you to his side instantaneously. Clearly, it wasn’t urgent enough to warrant a summons. So what exactly do his barely furrowed brows and unusually dark glare mean? You stand, awaiting orders of some kind, while he stalks slowly closer to you. His footsteps are measured, as always. He doesn’t stop, however, when his chest bumps your own. His frame pushes against yours as you easily step backward, matching his pace until your back hits the wall. It isn’t often you can’t read his mind.

“A thousand apologies, Master Ulquiorra, I am unable to discern what you need tonight.” His viridian glare flickers over your features, schooled to match his own usual indifference. The silence is long, stretched thin over the seconds you spend trying to decipher the Espada’s thoughts to no avail. All you can do is study his face. Those piercing, unwavering eyes that you could lose yourself in forever. The tiny tick in his sharp jaw, the tiniest pinch in his brows. Dark lines reminiscent of tear tracks streak down his pale cheeks, drawing the eyes down his neck toward the hollow at the base of his throat. It isn’t often he chooses to leave it exposed. 

“Has anyone paid you a visit today?” The deep baritone vibrates through your body, snapping your thoughts back to the present. No other Espada would dare come to you, unless it were urgent or a special case. None of the humans would bother with you either, even Lord Aizen is far above seeking the assistance of a fracción. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, Master Ulquiorra.” You don’t bother to elaborate, he hates hearing unneeded explanations. A simple answer is all he ever needs. At the confirmation, his features relax. His expression is blank once again, the calculated persona clicking into place like a puzzle piece. You know you’re one of the very few that can read his micro expressions, if he were talking to any of the other Espada or fracción they’d probably never notice whatever inner turmoil plagues his mind. But you do. 

When he turns to leave, you can’t help but want to ease whatever troubles him. It’s second nature, for a fracción such as yourself. You were made to serve him, to assist him, to do anything and everything necessary to help him reach his goal.

“Master Ulquiorra?” He stops on a dime, casually turning to face you once again. He wants this kept short, he always does. So you don’t bother beating around the bush.

“May I be of any assistance? I can see something is on your mind.” His eyes swiftly trace down and back up your entire form. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it.

“No. Good night.” Swiftly, he turns and leaves, the door to your room closing softly behind him. How odd. 

The next week is spent assisting the fourth Espada with research of the hogyoku. There isn’t much to be gathered besides what Lord Aizen already knows, and each night you wonder exactly what has Ulquiorra wound so tightly. Yes, his mind still lingers on whatever it is he confronted you about that night. Unfortunately, an answer does not come to you, but instead a new series of questions is given to you when you’re visited once again in your quarters. You feel him approaching long before he arrives, that spiritual pressure is unmistakable. But why is he here?

You’re down on your knees before the door swings open, head bowed down, not from the pressure but out of respect for the man. Lord Aizen steps over the threshold, his footsteps heavy and booming, into the small space of your room. You’ve only ever seen him across a hall or room during a meeting of some kind, and he’s never ever addressed you directly. Any and all orders came through Master Ulquiorra, even if they were from Lord Aizen himself.

“So respectful. Ulquiorra has trained you well, fracción. Stand.” You waste no time, standing at full height and keeping your eyes focused on the ground. Making eye contact could be fatal. You have to tense every muscle in your body to keep from flinching when a large hand reaches out toward your face, and you stop breathing when he grabs your chin and begins to turn your head this way and that. He’s…examining you. Releasing your face, he begins a slow, steady pace circling around you as you stand perfectly still. You don’t know what this is about, but you don’t dare ask, his piercing gaze is more than enough warning not to speak at all, let alone move.

“Very interesting.” It takes all of your resolve not to scream and protest when you feel two large hands, suddenly and harshly, grasp your waist and tug your back against his chest. His chin hooks over your shoulder and his voice is too close, too deep, too dark.

“What a darling fracción. Tell me, why is Ulquiorra so distracted lately? One of my most loyal Espada has been faltering lately.” He’s been faltering? Oh no, what could have him so worked up?

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Aizen. I have not been able to discern his troubles. He has hidden all of his mind from me lately. I have failed as his fracción.” You know you’ve failed. If his mind is so distracted that Lord Aizen has noticed a difference in his performance, then you have failed to be of assistance. You were created for it, and yet you have failed. The ultimate failure.

“Oh, don’t be so down, little fracción. You have not failed, yet.” Yet? What does he mean by that? He releases you from his hold in favor of meeting you face to face, grasping your chin once again and forcing your eyes to meet his own. It’s a terrifying thing, those eyes are pure bloodlust.

“If Ulquiorra were to have you kill yourself for any reason, would you do it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about the answer. Undeniably, you would. No matter the order, you’d follow through. If Ulquiorra ordered you to kill Lord Aizen himself, you would kill him or die trying.

“Very good, fracción. Such unwavering loyalty is not so common.” Maybe not, but fraccións are created for the sole purpose of mindless loyalty and obedience. It should not be a surprise that you are this way. Though something deep in your psyche tells you loyalty is not the only quality you hold for your master.

Another layer of spiritual pressure falls on the room, but you are unable to look over Lord Aizen’s wide shoulders with your face stuck in his grip. Regardless, you know who has joined you.

“Ulquiorra, I was wondering when you’d arrive.” The Espada’s footsteps halt behind the former shinigami.

“Lord Aizen.” Nothing more than an acknowledgement, but all of the questions you know he wants to ask remain unspoken when dark brown meets deep emerald, their sharp gazes piercing each other. The tension is palpable, for reasons you cannot calculate. Never would you have thought Ulquiorra could level such a glare at the man he’s sworn his loyalty. Your chin is finally released, and a boom resonates through the small chamber, the white fabric on Ulquiorra’s back suddenly filling your gaze as Lord Aizen turns back to face you both. A sonido? Here? Now? In front of Lord Aizen? What is going on with Master Ulquiorra? The thick silence is suffocating, the air itself seems to be vibrating with clashing spiritual pressures and tension. You’re having a hard time breathing, your body feeling heavier the longer the silence stretches. It feels like an eternity passes and you fall to your knees, but you know it can’t have been more than a split second. As quickly as it built, the tension dissipates as you sit there on your knees, panting and sweating in the aftermath.

“Tend to your fracción, Ulquiorra, the way we both know you want to. She may not be privy to your thoughts but I can read you like a book.” Lord Aizen’s smirk is measured carefully, and he’s gone in an instant. You don’t dare move until that spiritual pressure is gone completely, and even then you’re struggling to recuperate. Tenderly, lithe fingers brush away whatever hair had fallen in your face, emerald gaze searching your face as you peer up at him. Searching for what, you don’t know. 

“Stand.” You do as asked, wobbling for a moment while your strength returns. Strong hands, one on your shoulder and one on your waist, steady you. It’s strange, he’s never actually touched you before. Not like this. You don’t know what to do about the sudden feeling in your chest, warmth and contentment spreading like a wildfire to your mind. Even more so you’re left unsure about your newfound feelings, when instead of giving a command he chooses to lift you in his arms. The boom of a sonido is so much different when you’re moving the distance, but not of your own volition. The door to Master Ulquiorra’s quarters is thrown open and you’re unceremoniously tossed onto the large bed.

“Master Ulquiorra?” You can’t help your confusion. The past fifteen minutes have been a whirlwind of unnatural occurrences. His movements are almost frantic as he strides over to the door and seals it shut, locking it from the inside and training those eyes right on you. It’s a predatory glare he pins you with, the viridian swirling with something dark and sultry and filled with an insatiable lust. It makes your carefully crafted mask of indifference crack and splinter, eyes widening as your body curls into itself. You aren’t afraid, not of him. But something in his eyes just screams danger, and you can’t help the blistering heat coiling in the pit of your stomach nor the involuntary squeeze of your thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Before anything else, a tension settles over the room much like earlier.

“What was Lord Aizen’s business with you?” What a strange question.

“He asked if I knew why you were lacking in your duties lately. I couldn’t answer.” His chest rises and falls heavily, a muscle in his jaw tensing momentarily.

“Was that all?” You shook your head, not at all inclined to keep anything from Ulquiorra. 

“He asked if I’d kill myself at your order.” He went eerily still, every muscle in his body tensed and ready like a coiled snake.

“And your answer?”

“Without question. I would do anything you asked of me, Master Ulquiorra.” The glare he levels you with is primal, carnal desire. There’s no question about it, his entire being is consumed by lust. In the time it takes you to blink, he’s got you pinned to the bed with a hand wrapped tight around your neck, his lips claiming yours in a display of barely controlled dominance that has your entire body trembling. Teeth grab at every piece of skin he can reach. Blooming bites and bruises form along your jaw and neck, carefully skirting around the hollow in your own chest, his fingers squeezing around your throat in increments sending your vision blurry. Your clothes are shredded off your body and you’re left completely exposed for the arrancar keeping you pinned to his bed. Pain shoots through you, jolting your body, the sensation of teeth burying into your shoulder and it’s all you can do to bite your lip to stay quiet. The hand on your throat squeezes, Ulquiorra’s voice rattling your brain.

“I want to hear you. Not a single noise you make will be stifled.” It’s a proclamation, a statement of fact, rather than a request or demand. The next bite is accompanied by a sharp pinch, your nipple peaked between his index finger and thumb as he tugs at it, your voice coming out in a yelp and slowly melding into a low moan while he toys with your breasts. 

“Beautiful.” That single word sends shivers down your spine. There isn’t a single moment you can remember being praised in any way, and your head is spinning from it. His mouth continues its assault on your skin, following the curve of your shoulder and down your breasts. You can see the bite marks scattered over your chest, it lights a fire beneath your skin you can’t quite describe. He takes his time marking you, one hand ghosting over you and the other remaining planted on your neck, his lips mapping your body. You’re trembling from the attention he’s lavishing you with, you know he can feel the way your body shakes from all the stimulation. When his wandering hand finally reaches between your thighs, you’re shy knowing how messy you’ve become. His fingers are toying with the folds of your pussy, teasing around the entrance and barely ghosting over your swollen clit, his lips still sucking and biting and marking. He’s claiming you, completely dominating your being and making you his. 

He’s squeezing your throat in longer stents now, giving you short spaces to breathe between the dizzying cut off of your air supply. He can see the effect it’s having on you, your legs weaker as they try to close around his hand toying with your cunt, tears falling down your cheeks, your eyelids fluttering shut the longer he keeps your breathing controlled. And your pretty pussy is leaking so much more now, dripping onto his sheets and soaking his fingers. His emerald gaze stares up at you when you reach up and grasp at his arm, weakly clawing at him for a breath. He loves seeing you like this, completely reliant on him, even to do something as simple and basic and breathing.

The edges of your vision spot black and you’re shaking harder the closer you get to unconsciousness. You can’t fight it much longer, as much as you want to. Your eyes roll back into your skull as two long fingers plunge into your pussy and you’re granted air once again, the gasping breaths you take making your head spin and the fingers buried deep inside you curl up to hit a spot that makes your back arch up off the bed. It’s euphoric. You’re shaking hard, your legs clamped around Ulquiorra’s hand as something snaps in your abdomen, sending you head first into a freefall of blinding pleasure. Your guttural moans bounce off the walls after being ripped from your lungs, a sinful melody in the arrancar’s ears. When you can finally focus again Ulquiorra is standing above you in all his naked glory, clothing tossed into a random corner. He’s a beautiful man, pale skin flawless and smooth, and you can’t help the way your eyes trace down his toned body to lock onto his hard leaking cock as it stands proud.

“Get on your knees. Turn around and present yourself to me.” The command is clear, the dominant cadence of his voice making you tremble as you obey your master. Dropping your chest to the bed, you spread your knees and grip the sheets tight between your fingers, exposing your ass and cunt to the lust crazed Espada. Shivers wrack your body from the groan he lets slip past his lips, you yelp and jolt when a sharp slap lands on your bare pussy. 

“Look at you. So obedient, so submissive. Such a pretty, slutty little fracción for me.” A moan is punched from you at the praise, and your cunt clenches down around nothing. One hand smooths over one of your ass cheeks and slides up your back, reaching all the way to the back of your neck and keeping steady pressure, pinning you in place. Again you clench around nothing as Ulquiorra teases the tip of his cock at your entrance, never delving further, bumping your clit and making you jump with every pass. You know better than to speak out of turn, but you can’t take it anymore.

“P-please…” Everything halts, even your breathing stops at the realization of what you'd just done. A heavy hand slaps your ass, leaving a blooming red mark in its wake, your whole body jerking at the contact and a moan tearing from your throat. Another slap lands in the same place, harder this time, and another. They keep coming until your moans are sounding more like screams, but Ulquiorra knows better, the gush of your cute pussy giving away just how much you’re enjoying yourself. Mercifully, he rubs at the raw skin in soothing circles.

“A fitting punishment, don’t you think? For speaking unprompted,” you nod as much as you can still pinned beneath him, tears staining your cheeks and the bedsheets.

“Y-yes, Master Ulquiorra.” You can’t see it, but you can hear the devious grin in his voice. If only you had the pleasure of witnessing such an expression.

“Good girl, you’re learning.” Your loud moan is swallowed by the sheets.

“Oh? You like the praise, sweet thing?” It’s formed as a question, but it feels like he’s taunting you, like it’s something shameful to enjoy. You can’t bring yourself to answer, embarrassed to be so affected by his praise. His hand comes down again on your still painful ass.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Between small hiccups and sniffles, you squeak out a response.

“Yes! I love hearing your praise, Master.” Satisfied, he chuckles, deep and dark and dangerous. He doesn’t bother speaking anymore, focused solely on dragging out your torturous pleasure as long as he can endure. His fingers are shoved into your pussy, ripping a groan out of you and he sets a punishing pace, pumping and curling and spreading to prepare you to take his sizable cock. You can feel that sensation again, tightening in the depths of your belly, feel your legs begin to shake like before, whines and moans spilling into the room. But just before that tension snaps, you’re left empty. You could cry, being denied that release. Ulquiorra just laughs again before rubbing tight, quick circles into your clit to build up the tension again. You desperately want to beg him to let you cum, want to sing his praises in hopes that he’ll pull you over that blissful release, but you know you can’t. Your chest is heaving, entire body shaking as he builds you up to the point of snapping, only to stop just before you’re shoved over the edge again. You cry, sob as another orgasm is stolen away from you. Your body is shaking so hard he doesn’t even have to move his fingers to rub at your clit, just hold them while you tremble and let you work yourself to that peak again and again. Then he stills completely, listening to your pathetic sniveling at being denied so much pleasure.

“Go ahead. Beg.”

“Please! Please Master Ulquiorra make me cum! I want to feel it so bad, I need it. I can’t take any more, please make me cum!” You can hear his evil chuckle, he’s adoring this. In one fluid motion he buries his aching cock all the way to the hilt, your scream is punched from your lungs and your vision blanks, his heavy balls slap against your clit as he slams into you with his full weight. You can’t hear anything as you cum hard, feeling liquid gush from your cunt and drip down your legs, squirting all over Ulquiorra’s thighs. He doesn’t stop, leaning over you and pounding into you until he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. Shaking is all you can do, pinned down and at the mercy of your master as he empties into you, hot ropes of thick cum filling you to the brim as he finally stills. 

You’re both sucking in heavy breaths in the aftershock, slowly he releases your neck and lays the both of you down on your side, cock still plugging your cunt, keeping all his cum inside you. He holds your trembling form close, gently massaging your shoulders, hips, neck and thighs. Every piece of you that he’s sure aches, he tenderly soothes. It takes a long while for you to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind, he can see your eyes regain their focus as he places soft kisses over your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You blink away some of the daze, nod slowly to answer. The both of you hiss when he slips his soft cock from you, sensitive as ever. He flips you around to face him, tugging your body over his own so you’re laying on top of him. His fingers caress down your back and massage your scalp and neck, further grounding your mind. It’s comfortable, sweet. You don’t want to be anywhere else. Gently, he turns your head to look into your eyes.

“For the last week I have battled with the notion that you were not solely my own fracción and you would be stolen away by another Espada.” A small, lazy smile graces your features. What a silly concept.

“I’m not going anywhere, Master Ulquiorra.” His gaze turns possessive.

“Of course you aren’t, my dear fracción,” his hand grips your chin firmly, eyes piercing your own, “You belong to me, and only me.”

[vibingandsimping]

This is exactly who you think it is. 🦜🦜

Might I request the origin characters (+ Halsin) of your choice caring for a burnt out/sick Tav?

Hello! I shall call you bird anon…

(Leave me and my family alone)

But ask and you shall receive! Requests/thoughts always make my day.

Origin characters + extra companions taking care of an exhausted reader pt. 1

No forewarnings besides maybe some suggestive mentions and a little angst. Mostly all fluff + comfort… barely proofread

Characters included in this part: Astarion, Gale, Lae’zel and Jaheira

Astarion

Astarion, when you present him with the problem after his insistent pestering, is a little lost. Everyone has their breaking points and their limits. You just held a confident front for so long that he started to believe you truly lacked one. He suggests the pleasures of the flesh at first. “To ease that pretty mind,” he claims with a smirk. You can tell in his gaze it’s his default- he was used for his body for so long it’s clear he’s unsure of what else to say. A bit of frustration with both him and his past bubbles up. It hurts to know he values himself that little and at the same time… it’s frustrating that he thinks it will solve anything. After a curt “No thank you.” he seems to deflate a bit. You stalk off to your tent as he watches from afar.

He sat with himself as he contemplated his abilities. You’d done so much for him over the period of time you’d known each other. Quite frankly, he hates to say it but he’s realized he’s taken you for advantage. He reminisces over the times you’d let him feed and he has had his nose pressed into your skin. How he’d inhale your scent and memorize it with your blood. He broods over it for a little before beginning to test different scents and oils. What he believed would work with your body chemistry and what he knew you liked.

It’s an hour or so later when you hear slow footsteps. Whoever it was made their presence known, so as to not scare you with a sudden intrusion. You’d been laying with your head in silence and the dark due to how it throbbed. Everything seemed so loud and overwhelming. He speaks smoothly and announces his arrival, you just grunt in acknowledgment. It seems to amuse him as he laughs gently and places something on the ground. Which? You’re unsure- and you could care less to check right now. It’s only when you hear the flick of a match and the room illuminates that you peek. He has a couple of wax candles laid out that seem to be dripping in mixtures. He smiles at you in such a way that you push suspicions aside. The room flickers with the light of the candles. “Relax. I made these special for you. Just focus on them and let the world wash away.” You watch him for a minute more as he lights the candles and the scent grows stronger as it burns with the wax. At first, it also overwhelmed you. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and focus on taking deep breaths. With each inhale, you draw more of it into your lungs and feel your muscles slack. Whatever he used was working wonders to calm your body and ease your mind. He did miss his calling as a perfumer.

The feeling of cold hands on your neck tenses your so delicately relaxed frame. His voice comes out in a shush, making you shiver from the tone. The way his fingers move so slowly tells you he’s holding a part of him back. It’s likely the reflex to make things more… intimate. A part of you swells knowing that he is trying a more simple intimacy on you. Thumbs dig into the tense muscles until they’re worked from the stiffness. Soft moans of content escape your throat. Though, just the same are the groans of pain when he reaches a more tender spot. “You’re lucky you have such a caring companion.” He muses half-heartedly, an attempt to make you smile. It did, matter of fact. You’re sure he knows because his movements become more confident. You drop your head back into your pillow and breathe out a sigh. He didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes on your back. It was quite comforting to know he was there if you needed it. You eventually drift into a half-conscious state as he works your tender flesh. By the time he’s left you to rest you were already asleep.

Gale

Gale’s watchful eye concluded your growing burnout long before it settled in. He was a wizard- a man who studied for a living. He understood frustration and burnout. He’s faced it many times before… and it’s never an easy thing. When you settle down at the camp for the night, he can’t seem to get his eye off you. You walk around slowly and seem out of it. The man sits in his thoughts for a moment longer and decides to make his way over to you. You, of all people, deserved to have a moment to relax and truly replenish your mind. His hand makes contact with your arm and you’re snapped from your daze. He gazes down at you with a softness and silently asks you to follow him. You’re too worn down to argue and just nod.

He winds you out of the forest and towards a still lake. A drinking deer turns and shoots out from its spot when you two arrive. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he bashfully smiles. “Water is soothing to the mind and muscle. I’ll take care of you- let me.” The moonlight dappling the water is tempting and he seems harmless enough with his request. You relent and begin to slowly peel the clothing off your body. Turning back around you stride into the water only to find it pleasantly warm. It was almost hot- glancing up at him as he removed his robe, you knew he tampered with magic to heat the water. You’re not complaining though. It’s already doing wonders to work out the aches in your muscles. He slides in behind you and asks you permission to touch you. You hummed approval as you closed your eyes and put your trust in him.

He lathers his hands with soap and begins to work your muscles along your back. Simultaneously massaging gently and washing you clean. His fingers work from your neck to your shoulder blades, down your spine, and to your legs. He slowly turns you around so he can repeat the same process down your front. He’s careful around your more intimate areas, eyeing you cautiously to gauge what’s too much. It feels nice to be doted on and not have to bathe yourself for once. You’re sure he knows it, too. Then, he whispers for permission to do your hair. You barely speak and instead hum once more. He chuckles a little before wrapping an arm around you and one under your head. He dips you into the water until your hair is thoroughly soaked and pulls you back up. Like that, he begins to lather shampoo into your scalp. His fingers work wonders and you moan a little. The moment is gone too soon for your preference and he’s washing it out.

After a minute more of holding you in the water as he rinses you off, he guides you out. You almost protest like a child, wishing to relish the hot water a little longer. He hands you a large linen cloth and you dry yourself off. Squeezing your hair until it no longer drips annoyingly and wrapping it around yourself to conceal your intimates. He follows alongside you back into camp and you head into your tent. He lingers beside you while you settle down and gather some night clothes. Then, as soon as the eyes are noticed, he leaves you to your own devices. You manage to get to sleep surprisingly easily and the night passes mostly peacefully. In the morning, your previous clothes are folded neatly outside your tent. They’re clean and practically spotless. Gale must’ve taken the time to wash them while you slept and hung them to dry overnight.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel’s instinct is to scold you for showing weakness. Githyanki are warriors and have no time to tend to the frail. Yet, you’ve proven anything but frail in the time she’s known you. She’s utterly torn and wears it on her face obviously. You’re unsure why you turned to her for comfort, it was obviously a mistake. You sigh exasperatedly and trail off as she watches. You almost make it to your tent before her hand wraps around your wrist and tugs you to look at her. “Battle me,” she speaks blatantly. “Githyanki soothe their mind and body with battle. It is all I know to do. Battle me.” There’s a desperation in her voice. She cannot stand to see you so exhausted and fed up. You squint at her and almost protest that all the battling you’ve done is what led you to this point. The expression she held deterred you. You complied in the end.

She leads you into a dirt clearing and unsheathes her sword. Her face is like the steel she holds in her grasp and you ready yourself. There’s a moment of silence and anticipation that hangs in the air as you two lock eyes. She makes the first move, launching towards you and missing the side of your face by a few inches. You retaliate and dig your weapon of choice into her side. She grits her teeth as she is sent sprawling a few feet away. The girl gives you little time to react. Her next attack flies at you and you two are a clash of steel and flesh. There’s an adrenaline that elicits your veins and your head clears. The worries of taking care of everyone fade and you focus solely on your sparring partner. It’s like a second wind that envelops your body. It takes you a few hits until you realize she’s purposefully leaving herself open and using weaker moves.

She was allowing you to win. To taste her blood and victory in battle. You’re almost insulted if it weren’t so flattering that she was laying herself openly for you. You lay a final hit on her and she kneels with her head bowed. The two of you pant as wounds seep blood. Nothing is too deep and can easily be fixed by bandage or magic. She pulls herself to her feet and smiles softly at you. “A formidable opponent. You underestimate your power.” It was her form of a compliment, you supposed. She then followed you back into camp and sat you down. She runs a wet rag along your scrapes and cuts. The crimson washes off and leaves the wounds exposed to the fresh air. The githyanki is gentle in her touch as she wraps them with a bandage and secures it in place. The muscles in your body flex as you test the hold before turning your attention to her. You go to tend her wounds but are met with a hand in your face. “I am fine. I am strong enough to take care of myself. You, on the other hand, need to recover to lead us onward.”

You quirk a brow at her before pulling away and allowing the campfire to warm your bones. She works deftly on sealing her wounds and you can’t help but feel a little rejuvenated. It wasn't pampering of sorts- but she cared. She tried her best to show it and that’s truly what mattered. She fought against her nature to shame you and instead attempted to cure your ailments. She was rough around the edges but had a soft heart. The thought made you smile softly as you watched the shadows of fire dance along her olive-green skin. She catches your gaze for a moment and seems flustered. “Go rest.” She commands softly and you laugh breathlessly. It takes you a moment to get to your feet but you manage it. Some sleep would surely help repair the worst of it as long as you took it easy the next day.

Jaheira

Jaheira was an older elf. She could spot the telltale signs of wear. Whether that be mental or physical. She took care of her harpers for just about as long as she could recall at this point. It felt nice to not have to be the one in charge- but maybe she took too much comfort in it. A little guilt weighed in her heart. Too late to dwell, though, you needed assistance. The crackle of the fire was all that could be heard as you sat in front of it. You were still- seemingly lost in thought. She groaned a little as she lowered herself to a seat. Her knees weren’t as they used to be. The sound alerted your mind and you snapped out of it to look at the woman. She smiled softly at you and handed you a goblet. In her other hand was a bottle of wine and her own goblet. “Do not worry, no funny games this time. Just something to unwind.” You scrunch your nose a little before grabbing it.

The bottle uncorks and she pours a glass for you two. It’s not the finest wine but certainly was much better than the gruel served at the tiefling party. You draw your knees to your chest and take a long sip. After she takes a sip of her own she clicks her tongue in thought. Her gaze isn’t on you but on the campfire as she begins to speak. “You are more powerful than you know,” she begins and you look at her from the corner of your eye. “I’ve seen it firsthand. You vanquished the curse of the shadowlands and defeated Ketheric Thorm. I am surprised you didn’t succumb to exhaustion sooner.” You tense, almost expecting it to be an insult. Her softness of tone betrays that thought. “You need to rely on your friends and company more. We are here to help. We care. I care.” She enunciates the last word by looking at you. You can’t help but feel a soft fuzz blooming in your chest. Was it her words or the alcohol?

“I took care of my harpers for a century or more. It is hard work to look after the well-being of everyone else and yourself. I think I became too comfortable in letting you guide me. I apologize for that, truly.” You open your mouth to speak but she shushes you with a point of her goblet. That gesture makes you flush a little and take a sip of your wine once more. “I have seen many people in my life. I have lost many people in my life. You are among some of the most… wonderful I have seen. I will be damned if I lose you to anything beyond yourself.” She smiles at you, the age lines on her face only speaking to how truthful she is being. You can’t help but feel relaxed by both the influence of the alcohol and her words. You realize anything you say would be practically pointless. So, you just shuffle to her side and press against her. She hums in satisfaction and wraps an arm around you. You can hear her swallowing her wine more clearly. There’s a comfortable silence that is punctuated occasionally by the crackling of the fire.

“Another pour?” She offers as she holds the bottle and you cannot help but laugh while gesturing your goblet. Indulging for a night hurt nobody and hell you deserved it. She refills the two glasses and rests her head against yours. There’s a mutual understanding of comfort and connection between you two as you sip and watch the fire. It’s nice to not have to say anything in return. To be able to simply sit and digest the fact that somebody appreciates the fact that you work so tirelessly for them and everyone around you. It’s only til your goblets empty again does she finally pull away and cork the wine. You stand and allow the buzz of the alcohol to warm your veins and loosen your mind. She offers a hand out with a sheepish smile, “Help a gal up?” you tease her for a minute and grab her hand as she hoists herself off the ground. She regards you with a softness and plants a gentle kiss against your forehead. You two part and head to your respective tents to sleep the night away.