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sheriffaxolotl · 21 days ago

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Better ♡ Part 2 (Abby Anderson x f!reader)

Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), strap-on use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, use of words like cunt/pussy, soft aftercare Wordcount: 8.6k A/N: Thank you so much for the love on Part 1! As requested, here’s Part 2—feedback is always welcome! Happy Pride Month! 🌈 ❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━･❪ Part 1 ❫ ･━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Summary: She said she’d wait until it was your choice. Until you were ready. And tonight, you are. Her hands treat you like something precious… before she ruins you just right.

It’s been a few weeks since that night.

Since the party. Since the kiss that changed everything. Since Abby asked you to be hers. Since you said yes.

Not to anyone. Not publicly. Not yet.

But in all the ways that matter, it’s been real.

She’s been at your side every day since—without making a show of it. Not clingy, not trying too hard. Just present. Steady.

She brings you when you're in class, texts you reminders to eat, walks you home after late-night study sessions. At the gym, she spots you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, her hands firm at your waist, her grin teasing but warm. She listens when you talk, like really listens, and when she laughs at your jokes, it’s not just polite. It’s genuine. Like she’s just happy to be there with you.

And you?

You’re smiling more. Laughing more. Nicer to people. Less on edge. Because for the first time in a long time, you’re not faking it. You’re not holding yourself together with duct tape and denial, pretending a half-present boyfriend is enough.

Abby’s not just filling a gap.

She’s showing you what it’s like to not need one in the first place.

And today, finally, it’s just you and her.

For weeks, you’ve been staying at your place. Her idea, gently offered. “I want this to be about you,” she said one night, curled around you in bed, fingers tracing soft circles along your spine. “I want you to feel safe. In your space. On your terms.”

So that’s what you did. Built a quiet rhythm in your own sheets. She’d come over with takeout, sleep beside you, kiss your shoulder in the morning—but never asked for more. Never asked for hers.

But tonight, for the first time, you're staying at her place.

Because you asked.

The building’s older, solid, with a quiet charm. With warm brick, soft lighting in the hallway, and a potted plant by her door that looks like it’s actually thriving. When Abby opens it, she’s barefoot, in light washed denim jeans and a tank top, hair tied back, a slow, easy smile spreading across her face the second she sees you.

“Hey,” she says, voice low and fond, stepping aside so you can enter.

You step in, toeing off your shoes, the wooden floors cool under your socked feet. Her apartment smells like home. It was warm and clean, faint cedar, and dinner already on the stove. There’s music playing low from a speaker tucked by the window, and the lights are dim, cozy. A sweater of hers is draped across the back of the couch like a casual offering. The whole place feels lived-in. Loved in.

You smile, stepping further into the warmth of her apartment, letting the scent of garlic and something buttery wrap around you like a hug. “You cooked?”

“Obviously.” Abby flashes a crooked grin as she returns to the kitchen to stir something on the stovetop. “You think I was gonna let you come over for the first time and order takeout?”

You let out a soft laugh and drop onto one of the barstools at the counter. “Could’ve fooled me with how much you liked that Thai place.”

“That’s different,” she says, flicking her eyes to you, playful. “That’s our lunch spot. This…” She gestures toward the bubbling pot on the stove. “This is a stay-the-night meal.”

You blink, the words catching you off guard in the best way. “A stay-the-night meal?”

“Yep.” She spoons a generous portion of something golden and rich onto a plate and sets it in front of you with a fork. “Butter-sage ravioli. I even grated the fancy cheese. I like feeding people I care about. Deal with it.”

The food is perfect. Warm, comforting. And so Abby—straightforward, full of flavor, a little bold but not overwhelming.

As you eat, the conversation settles into an easy rhythm. Her knee brushes yours beneath the table every now and then with soft, accidental touches that neither of you acknowledge, but don’t pull away from either.

She listens intently while you talk about your classes, the projects piling up, the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you for weeks. She doesn’t rush to offer solutions. Just asks the right questions, promises to check in on your progress, her voice low and warm.

She tells you stories in return. Memories from her freshman year that make you laugh until your stomach aches. The professor who assigned a fifty-page reading on the first night. The roommates who tried to cook pasta with barbecue sauce. You edge a little closer without meaning to, pulled into her orbit, until her hand brushes yours on the table.

This time, you don’t move. You let it stay there.

“I’m glad we could do this,” you say softly, not really planning to, the words slipping out before you can catch them. “I really needed this.”

Her eyes find yours. That smile—slow, unguarded—spreads across her face like it means something deeper. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says. “I’m glad we’re… figuring things out.”

The warmth in your chest isn’t just from the food. It’s her. The way she’s here, with you—not just in proximity, but fully present. There’s something grounding in her presence, something steady in the way she looks at you, like every touch is a reminder she’s not going anywhere.

“You really do take care of me,” you murmur, half teasing, half in awe. “Not just with food. With everything.”

Abby lets out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the softness of the moment. But everything between you stills for a breath—like the room is waiting.

You don’t rush the last few bites. There’s no hurry now. And when the plates are finally empty, Abby rises, collecting them with practiced ease. Her movements are calm, unrushed, like she’s done this a hundred times before. Like taking care of you is instinct.

“Want to pick a movie?” she asks, drying her hands on a towel. “Something low-stakes. Digestive.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Comfort movie or guilty pleasure?”

She tosses a glance over her shoulder. “You’re the guest of honour. Dealer’s choice.”

The living room is warm with low light, a candle flickering on the coffee table in that cedar-linen scent that smells like her. Feels like her. The couch is soft, worn in just enough to be welcoming.

You sit beside her, close enough that your arms nearly brush. You scroll through the options with little interest until you land on something familiar, something easy. The kind of movie where you already know all the lines, but it doesn’t matter.

She throws a blanket over the two of you without comment, and her arm comes to rest lightly along the back of the couch. She doesn’t pull you in. Just waits.

You shift toward her, leaning into the warmth of her side.

And she lets you.

Her hand finds yours beneath the blanket, fingers weaving together like they were made to fit. It’s not the movie that holds you—the flickering screen fades into the background, eclipsed by the slow, steady circles her thumb draws on your skin. The way she laughs at a line you’ve quoted a thousand times, soft and real. The way her gaze rarely meets yours, but when it does, it’s with that same quiet tenderness that’s been unravelling you, thread by thread, for weeks.

When the credits roll, neither of you moves. No one reaches for the remote. Abby turns to you, hand still clasped in yours. For a moment, her expression is unreadable, as if she’s weighing words she hasn’t dared say yet.

The heat of her body, the softness of her breath against your skin, the way her hands hold you, familiar and grounding. But tonight, it pulses with something deeper. Something that wants more.

You shift again, closing the space between you. Her eyes flick down to your mouth, then back up, and that’s all the invitation you need.

The kiss starts slow. An exhale, a gentle parting of lips that melts into hers. Abby’s hand slides up your spine, pulling you closer like she’s been waiting for this exact moment, wanting to taste every second.

You settle against her, the blanket pooling around your hips as your legs tangle without thought. Her free hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek, her mouth moving with yours—deepening, deliberate. Her lips are plush, her kiss unhurried but hungry, sparking fire beneath your skin.

You hum softly against her lips, fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt. She pulls back just enough for her forehead to rest against yours, both of you catching up to the rhythm of your own heartbeats. Then she kisses you again—deeper this time—like staking a claim, like holding back for far too long.

It’s not frantic. It’s not shy.

It’s weeks of want, slow and sure, unfolding between the worn couch cushions as the candle burns low behind you.

Abby shifts beneath you, her hand sliding from your jaw to your waist, gripping just enough to guide without force. She leans back, bringing you with her, coaxing you into her lap with a steady confidence that leaves no doubt where you belong.

You follow willingly, knees bracketing her hips, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan as your chest presses flush to hers.

Her hands steady you, with palms firm on your waist, grounding you. “This okay?” she murmurs, voice rough, eyes searching.

You nod, chasing her mouth again. “Yeah,” you breathe. “More than okay.”

The next kiss is different from the last. Messier. Urgent.

Abby’s hands roam, slipping under the hem of your shirt, palms dragging along your spine with just enough pressure to make your hips twitch forward. She groans softly at the contact, fingers digging in like she needs you closer—closer than your body can go.

You rock against her instinctively, and the heat pooling low in your belly flares hotter when she grips your hips tighter. Her kisses deepen—open-mouthed and breathless—teeth grazing your bottom lip before she sucks it between hers.

You whimper pathetically at that, hands clenching the fabric of her shirt as your bodies move in sync.

The blanket is long forgotten, pooled somewhere on the floor. The movie’s credits finished rolling who-knows-how-long ago; the screen now idles on the home menu. Faint flickers of light cross your faces, but none of it registers. Not with her paying such attention to you.

Her hands slide higher beneath your shirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine again before fanning out over your ribs. She explores like she’s learning you by touch again. Each stroke sends a shiver through you, making you arch toward her, aching for more contact, more pressure, more.

You tug at her shirt, desperate for skin, not cotton. She lifts her arms without hesitation, letting you pull the fabric over her head and toss it behind you.

Your breath catches.

The sight of her body always has you in shambles. Abby’s body is lean strength—broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist, muscles subtly defined beneath smooth skin. Solid under your hands, warm and steady—the kind of body that feels like both safety and fire all at once.

Her hands are on you again before you can catch yourself, pulling you flush against her bare torso. The heat of her skin meets yours, and your breath stutters at the contact.

Your mouths crash together. Tongues tangling, lips bruising. Abby groans into your mouth as your hips grind down against hers again, her grip tightening on your waist, guiding your rhythm with a slow, steady roll.

She breaks away just long enough to murmur, “God, you look so fuckin’ good,” before her mouth travels to your neck, sucking a mark into the tender skin beneath your ear that makes your toes curl.

You shiver in her lap, nails raking lightly across her shoulders as you cling to her, lost in the drag of her teeth and the sweep of her tongue. She’s breathing hard against your mouth, hips pressing into yours with a slow rhythm that pulls a low, desperate sound from deep in her throat.

The shirt pressed between you becomes unbearable, and Abby feels it too. She pulls back just enough to peel it off, her eyes raking over you with something fierce, a devotion tangled with raw want.

Then she moves. Strong hands bracing at your hips as she shifts, easing you down onto the couch cushions with careful intent. The weight of her settles over you, pinning you there, thigh pressed firmly between your legs, one hand slipping behind your back as her body covers yours.

Her eyes meet yours and for a moment, all you can do is breathe. The grounded weight of her body against yours is everything.

You reach for her again, desperate for skin on skin, for the grounding heat of her pressing you into the couch. She gives it to you—all of it.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs, almost to herself, before her mouth finds your throat—biting gently, then soothing the spot with the soft brush of her tongue. You arch into her, craving more friction, more pressure, more of her everywhere.

Her hips roll down with slow, deliberate force, grinding against your aching pussy, drawing a needy moan from your lips as your back arches instinctively. Her hand slides beneath you, deft fingers unhooking your bra. You barely register the soft clink as it falls to the floor before her lips trail lower—kissing along your chest, pausing at the swell of your left breast, wrapping around your nipple with a gentle suck that makes you whimper.

“God, the sounds you make,” she growls against your skin. “I could spend hours just listening to you fall apart.”

You can’t think. Can’t speak. Only feel—her hands, her mouth, the way she moves like she knows every spot that will leave you undone.

Her thigh slips higher between yours. When your hips rock down on instinct, she gasps low against your breast, the sound rough and hungry.

Abby’s hand drags down your body until it nestles between your thighs. Her fingers press into your pussy through your pants, gentle but maddening.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, voice ragged, lips brushing your ear. “Been good for me,” she says, low and heavy with meaning. “So fucking good.”

Her touch scorches along your skin as her hands trail down your thighs, sending shivers deep through you. You let out a breathy moan, pressing closer, the heat between you flaring hotter.

“Come with me?” she whispers, soft but sure.

You nod, breath catching, words barely there. “Yes. Please.”

She leads you down the hall to her bedroom, the dim hallway light tracing the curve of her shoulders, shadows playing across her back. The room smells like her too—clean linen, faint hints of lavender, and the subtle musk of skin and sweat. Soft light filters through sheer curtains, casting gentle patterns across the hardwood floor and a bed piled high with rumpled blankets and pillows.

A small stack of well-worn books sits on the bedside table, their spines creased from rereads, stories she clearly returns to. Beside them, a shallow wooden tray holds a neatly arranged collection of coins—some old, some foreign, each one worn with history, like they’ve been touched a hundred times. The quiet hum of a distant city seeps through the slightly cracked window. Even though you’ve never been here before, it already feels like home.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands find your waist, that steady, grounding touch you know so well. She leans in, lips brushing your jaw, then trailing down your neck, open-mouthed. Her hands trace along your sides as uou sigh into her, and she smiles against your skin.

Her kisses drift lower—down your collarbone, over your shoulder, across your sternum to the swell of your breast. Her lips find your other nipple, tongue flicking slow and lazy, teasing in a way that makes your breath catch. Her hands cradle your ribs gently, holding you still as her mouth continues its descent.

She sinks down onto her knees.

Her thumbs hook into the waistband of your pants, her eyes dark and intent as she looks up at you. “Can I?” she asks, voice low and full of need.

You nod, breathless. “Yeah.”

With careful reverence, she peels your pants and underwear down—slow, like unwrapping something precious—dragging the fabric over your hips and thighs until you’re bare before her. When she sees you, skin flushed and breath caught in your chest, she exhales softly, almost reverent.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmurs, the words slipping out before she can hold them back.

Your hands find the hem of her sports bra, and she rises with effortless grace, lifting her arms to give you easy access. As you pull it over her head, the soft stretch of more her skin is revealed to your eyes—lean, strong, and inviting beneath your fingertips. Your palms glide over the curve of her shoulders, tracing the line of her back as you draw her closer, every touch sparking warmth between you.

You kiss her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder—and she lets you explore, letting you relearn her body with your hands and lips. Yet, her own hands keep returning to your hips and thighs, unable to resist.

Your fingers find the button on her jeans, working quickly, almost on instinct. You pop it open, tug the zipper down, and push the denim past her hips impatiently, desperate to feel more of her skin.

Now both naked, she takes your hand and guides you gently onto the bed, settling you onto the soft mattress. She crawls over you with effortless grace, lips crashing onto yours as her hand slips between your thighs.

Her fingers brushing over your slick cunt.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” she whispers against your mouth, voice low and rough. “Fuck, baby. That all for me?”

You moan, your answer spilling out as her fingers start moving, slowly, caressing the wet folds of your cunt. Her mouth trails downward all the while, over your belly, across your hip, to the soft inside of your thigh—until you feel her breath fan over you, settling between your legs.

Her lips crash down on your cunt hungrily before her tongue slides over you—long, slow, and fucking maddeningly good. A low, hungry groan rumbles in her throat as she pulls back just enough to whisper against your slick, trembling pussy.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” she breathes, voice thick and ragged with want, as her eyes lock onto the sight of your cunt.

Then her tongue flicks out flat and wide, dragging across your dripping folds, swiping over your puffy clit like she’s claiming it. She sucks gently, her mouth warm and wet as she wraps her lips around your clit, the pressure building with each suck, each lick, each flick of her tongue that sends shivers roaring through your whole body.

Her tongue dives deeper, sliding inside your cunt with smooth, rhythmic strokes, tracing every sensitive spot she came into contact with. She licks like she’s starving—slow and methodical, tasting every inch, exploring every curve, the way her mouth opens wide to take you in deeper, sucking and swirling, never rushing but never letting up.

Your breath catches, ragged and uneven, fingers clawing into her hair as her mouth devours your cunt with a raw hunger, her tongue moving in circles that grow tighter and faster, driving you wild.

She hums low in her throat, vibrating against your pussy, the sound raw and desperate, matching the frantic pulse of your hips pressing into her face. Her hands brace on your thighs, holding you open, steadying you as she eats you out like she means to memorize every taste, every shudder.

The wet slide of her mouth, the slick drag of her tongue flicking over your clit, the deep suckle that pulls a strangled moan from your throat—it all builds you higher, tightening your muscles around her tongue, drawing you toward the edge in slow, torturous waves.

When your hips jerk and your breath shatters into gasps, Abby groans low and guttural, her body trembling against you, but she doesn’t stop. She keeps going, pushing you higher, faster, deeper into a frenzy of slick, heated pleasure.

Your cunt clenches hard around her probing tongue, your body shattering in waves of burning, white-hot release. You come undone in her hands—a mess of gasps and shudders, your heart hammering wild as every nerve ignites with raw ecstasy.

Only when your body finally stills, when your grip loosens and your hips go slack, does she ease back, lips ghosting over your cunt with one last, worshiping kiss.

Then another, soft and slow, trailing down the inside of your thigh.

Her mouth glistens, warm and soaked with your slick.

She rises from between your legs with a deliberate, lingering grace—as if she’s still tasting your cunt.

Memorizing.

Etching the way your pussy looks—wet, undone, and hers.

Then she comes back up over you, her body sliding against yours. Her mouth finds yours again, deep and messy, tongue tasting where she’s just been. The sound you make into her mouth is raw, unguarded, instinctive.

Your thigh shifts between hers, and her breath catches—just a hitch, but it makes your pulse skip. Then she rolls her hips, slow and deliberate, grinding her pussy down against the firm muscle of your leg.

You feel it immediately.

The heat.

The unmistakable wet drag of her cunt against your skin.

A rough groan breaks from her throat as her forehead leans into yours. “You feel that?” she whispers, voice wrecked and breathless as her hips move again, slower this time. She grinds down, and the friction—the filthy, perfect press of her pussy smearing slick across your thigh—makes your vision blur for a moment.

“That’s what you do to me.”

You try to nod, but it’s barely a motion—more a tremor that starts in your chest and rolls through your limbs. She grinds harder, more desperate, and a sharp, helpless sound tears out of her.

Her hands brace on either side of you, fingers digging in to sheets like she’s anchoring herself to keep from falling apart. Your hands slide up her back, feeling every defined line beneath burning skin. Her body is tense, trembling, every breath a ragged plea she doesn’t say out loud.

Then she grinds against your thigh again, rougher this time. Slick spreads across your skin, warm and obscene, and you whimper.

Her moans are shameless now, open and hungry, each breath caught between a gasp and a groan. She rocks harder, rhythm faltering, one hand planted beside your head now, the other gripping your waist like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

The muscles in her back shift beneath your touch as you hold her, feeling her fall apart from the inside out. Her pussy slides wet and hot over your thigh, her clit catching just right again and again, until her whole body goes taut and trembling.

Her eyes flutter shut like it’s too much, like you’re too much, and her breath punches out in hot, heavy bursts against your lips. “Fuck,” she rasps. “You feel so fucking good.”

You press up, giving her more, feeling the flex of your muscle beneath her soaking cunt. Her pussy drags along your thigh, each shift of her hips coating your skin in more slick, and the tension in her body winds tighter.

God. She’s so wet it’s dripping down your leg now.

Her rhythm falters for a beat, hips stuttering in that telltale way. She catches herself with a gasp, burying her face in your neck, teeth dragging lightly across your skin as she pants against you.

“I’m gonna come,” she whispers, voice wrecked. “Just from this—fuck, baby, just from your fuckin’ thigh.”

You whimper at that, your hands gripping her ass, helping her grind harder, right where she needs it. The friction is relentless now—her clit catching against you, every stroke of her soaked cunt getting sloppier, louder.

She moans into your throat, high and wrecked, her whole-body trembling on top of you. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, like she’s barely holding on. “Don’t—don’t fuckin’ stop.”

You don’t.

You can feel her come—feel it in the way her hips stutter, the sharp, guttural cry she buries into your throat, the rush of slick soaking your leg. She grinds through it, riding every last wave, until she slumps against you, breath hot and panting against your cheek.

But even in the aftershocks, she doesn’t stop.

Abby shifts—slow, controlled, but determined—and grinds down again. You can feel her cunt pulses against your thigh with need. She doesn’t need to say a word. You can feel it. She’s insatiable. And watching her fall apart like that, right against you, soaking your thigh, dragging her pussy along your skin like she’ll die without it—

It ruins you.

You can barely breathe. Barely think. Your clit throbs and your whole body arching into her, aching for friction, for pressure, for something to snap that building tension.

She lifts her head at last, gaze locking with yours, her pupils blown wide and dark with lust.

Her hand slips up from besides your bodies, cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip like a question.

“Tell me,” Abby murmurs, voice tight and low, barely more than a growl. “Tell me what you want.”

You can’t pretend. Can’t tease. Can’t even beg properly—not when your thighs are slick and trembling, your pussy dripping, your mouth gone dry from how badly you need her.

“I want you,” you breathe, broken and hoarse. The truth of it burns through your chest like a live wire.

Her gaze drops to your mouth, then your trembling body, then back up. Her fingers dig into your thigh, slick with her own come, grounding you in the heat of her presence.

“Yeah?” Her voice is rougher now, unravelling. “Want me how, baby?”

You whimper, hips lifting like they’re searching for hers again. “Abs…” It slips out like a sob, gutted and raw. “You know how. Please. Just—fuck me.”

She stills.

That teasing smirk she sometimes wears? Gone. What’s left is hunger.

“Want me to fill you up, sweetheart?” she asks, voice ragged, barely hanging on. “Want to feel me deep inside that pretty pussy?”

You nod, frantic now, every inch of you pulsing with want. “Yes. God, yes. Please, Abby.”

She groans like she’s the one falling apart. Her hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing your soaked slit, and she groans again, lower this time. “You’re dripping,” she mutters, almost to herself. “So fucking ready for me.”

Then she leans in, lips to your ear, voice a velvet rasp.

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll fuck this needy little cunt until you forget your own name.”

Abby kisses you once more before she finally rises from the bed.

The sudden loss of her body heat makes you shiver, a hollow ache settling low in your belly. You watch her bare skin catch the soft glow of the lamp as she crosses to the bedside drawer. She crouches down before pulling the drawer open.

Her fingers sift past a phone charger, a spare flashlight, a well-loved paperback—moving with quiet purpose toward the back. You know she’s searching for something specific. Something heavy, something that will change the current between you.

And then, she finds it.

The harness lies coiled at the back of the drawer—dark, sleek, waiting. It’s not flashy. Not built for show. But you know that the moment it’s on her, it’ll be devastating.

She lifts it out with careful hands, the soft leather unfurling between her fingers like a promise. For a long beat, she just holds it there, letting you see it.

Without breaking eye contact, she rises.

Her movements are fluid, practiced—an intimate dance you’ve seen before, but never like this. She slips one leg into the harness, then the other, the straps catching against the curve of her hips before she pulls them taut. Her fingers tighten buckles, adjust tension, smooth each piece flat against her skin like a sacred ritual.

The ring at the centre glints briefly in the low light as she fastens the last strap.

She looks like something carved out of fire and will—power wrapped in leather and desire.

You swallow hard, pulse quickening.

Then her gaze drops—and for the first time, she hesitates. Just a flicker. Just enough for you to catch it. Enough for the breathless anticipation twisting your stomach.

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips, not quite playful, more desperate than anything. You tilt your head, voice low and teasing.

“So…” you murmur, eyes dragging down to the ring, “what exactly is going to fit into that?”

Abby’s lip’s part, hesitation vanishing like smoke. She steps toward you slowly, hands sliding back to your thighs—fingertips digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Reach under the pillow,” she says, voice rough with promise. “Got something under there for you.”

You shift instantly, your hand sliding beneath the pillow she nodded toward. Your fingers brush against something cool, firm. When you pull it out, your breath stutters.

The dildo sits heavy in your palm. Smooth. Perfectly sized. Just seeing it there—held in your hand, chosen for you—makes your skin flush even hotter now.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to.

Her eyes lock onto yours, dark and hungry as she watches you take it in—watches the way your fingers curl around the base, how your thighs instinctively part a little wider without you even noticing.

Then she moves, lowering herself between your legs again, kneeling, steady, letting her hands trail upward until they close over yours.

Her fingers wrap around yours, guiding them as you offer her the toy. She takes it from you, slow and careful, and threads the dildo through the O-ring. It fits snugly, perfectly—like it was made for her to wear, and for you to take.

She tightens the straps at her hips once more, smooths the leather flat against her skin, checks the angle. Every motion is deliberate. Like a ritual she’s done before, but never quite like this—not with you laid out in front of her, breath shallow, cunt already aching.

Then, without a word, she reaches back toward the drawer and pulls out a small bottle of lube. She gives it a little shake, flicks the cap open with one hand—the motion quick, practiced, unfairly hot.

She looks at you as she pours a generous amount over the toy now strapped to her. The slick sound is sharp in the quiet room. Her eyes never leave yours. Not even as she uses her palm to spread the lube down the shaft, stroking it with the kind of care that makes your thighs twitch.

When it’s slick and glistening, she runs one hand slowly down your inner thigh, coaxing them further apart—like you weren’t already open and waiting for her.

And when she finally speaks again, her voice is a rasp.

“Look at you,” Abby murmurs, gaze dropping to your soaked centre. “So fucking ready. You want it that bad, huh, baby?”

You nod, silent, your throat too tight to form words. Anything you say would come out broken—too breathless, too needy to hide.

She doesn't move right away—just watches you, drinking in every twitch, every tremble. Then, finally, she exhales and sinks to her knees again, the strap brushing your inner thigh as she settles between your legs.

“You’re wet enough to take me,” she murmurs, voice low and strained. “But I still want to feel you first…” The words are more to herself than to you as she reaches for the lube, slicking her fingers before sliding them between your thighs.

Then she slips one finger inside you. It goes in easily—your body more than prepared—but she still takes her time, adding a second, then a third, working them slow, curling just right. You moan, back arching into her touch, your hand finding hers and holding on.

When she finally pulls her fingers away, slick and glistening, she doesn’t break eye contact. Instead, she brings them to her mouth, tongue flicking out to taste. She groans—low, guttural, like she’s the one being undone. “Fuck,” she mutters. “Could eat you again and again.”

Then, and only then, does she line herself up.

The tip is cool as it brushes your inner thigh, then lower still—dragging slowly through your folds. It glides slick with lube and your own arousal, parting you with a lazy motion that makes your breath hitch. She doesn’t push in. Not yet.

Instead, she teases.

Abby moves her hips with maddening precision, dragging the head of the strap through your slick slit again and again—coating it, rubbing just right over your clit, letting it catch there for half a second before pulling back. Her hands are firm on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin, holding you in place even as your body tries to chase more.

Her eyes darken as she watches you fall apart beneath her, lips parting in a needy gasp.

“So fucking perfect,” she murmurs, voice low and rough. “You’re dripping for me… and this little cunt’s aching to be filled.”

But she doesn’t give in just yet. Instead, Abby lets the strap drag along your entrance one more time—slow and teasing—making sure you feel every slick inch before she slides deeper.

Then, finally, she pushes the dildo inside you with slow, torturous patience. The friction of the leather straps pressing tight against her hips sends a fresh rush of heat between your thighs. The toy slides slick and heavy, stretching you deliciously, but she never lets herself go fully—always pulling back just enough to keep the ache building, the desperation growing.

Her pace is maddening.

Abby rolls her hips in shallow thrusts, just the tip slipping in and out, dragging slick along your entrance—coating you, tempting you, ruining you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, every nerve ending singing, your thighs trembling from restraint.

And she knows it. She’s watching you too closely not to.

Her mouth curls—not into a smirk, not quite. It's something darker. Hungrier. A look that says she’s memorizing every twitch of your body, every sound you make, every way you beg without words.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, voice low and rough like gravel. “So fucking needy. This tight little pussy’s already clenching, and I haven’t even begun to fuck you properly.”

You whimper—shameless, broken. Words catch in your throat; all you can do is feel. The drag of the toy through your folds again makes your hips jerk, your hands clutching the sheets like they’re the only tether keeping you grounded.

Abby leans over you now, one hand braced beside your head, the other guiding the strap. Her skin is flushed, damp with heat, and her breath fans softly across your lips as she drags the toy over your clit—slow, deliberate circles that send shocks through your entire body.

You gasp, thighs parting wider, helpless to the way she works you open.

“You want more?” she rasps, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “Want me to fuck you like I mean it?”

You nod, frantic—too far gone for words.

But she doesn’t give it to you. Not yet. One strong hand grips your thigh, holding you wide, and she leans in close, her mouth brushing your ear.

“I need words, baby,” she murmurs, low and dangerous. “I need to hear you beg for it.”

A whimper slips from your lips. Your hands claw at her shoulders, grounding yourself in the heavy, hot weight of her body.

“Please,” you breathe, the word broken, wrecked. “I need you, Abby—need you to fuck me.”

Something inside her snaps.

A guttural sound tears from her chest, and then she’s moving—pressing forward, claiming you with slow, deliberate force.

The head of the strap pushes inside, thick and unrelenting, and you cry out—your back arching as she fills you, inch by aching inch. The stretch is dizzying, your body pulling her in greedily, trembling around the toy.

“Fuck,” Abby hisses through her teeth, watching you fall apart. “Look at how perfect you take me.”

Her hips grind deeper, burying herself fully. And you're gone, lost in the friction, the fullness, the filthy praise pouring from her lips.

You sob out a moan, hips tipping toward hers, desperate for more. “Goddamn,” she growls, her voice rough in your ear. “You sound so fucking good.”

She holds there, for just a breath—letting the weight of it settle, letting you feel all of her. The stretch. The fullness. The way you pulse around her like you were made to take every inch.

Then she pulls back.

And thrusts.

The first stroke is slow, deep—an almost reverent press of her hips—and you arch up into her with a choked sob. Then she does it again. And again. A steady rhythm that builds the pressure, the ache, the need inside you until it’s something blinding.

You dig your nails into her back, thighs locking around her hips as she starts to fuck you in earnest. Each thrust punches a moan from your lungs, wet obscene sounds echoing in the space between you.

“Yeah,” Abby groans, grinding deep, her forehead pressed to yours. “Take it, baby. Take all of me.”

You're not sure when you started crying—just little gasps, little tears slipping down your cheeks from the intensity of it. But she kisses them away. Kisses your mouth, your jaw, your throat, never breaking rhythm as she drives into you, relentless.

“You feel that?” she murmurs, voice frayed at the edges. Her thumb traces the corner of your mouth, slick with sweat and spit and heat. “Every time I slide into you… fuck, this tight little pussy just pulls me right back in.”

You whimper—pathetic and grateful—and try to rock up to meet her, but her hands pin your hips down to the bed, holding you in place like you’re something breakable.

“Not yet,” she says, soft but firm. “Want to feel this pretty cunt beg before I let you come.”

Then she grinds.

Not thrusts—grinds. Her hips move in a slow, punishing roll that presses the strap just right inside you, dragging across that perfect spot, making your back arch and your thighs tremble. She does it again. And again. Every motion precise. Intentional. Drawn out.

You’re soaked, stretched, trembling under her, reduced to gasps and open-mouthed moans. She dips her head, lips brushing your throat as she whispers—

“This is mine.”

A shallow thrust punctuates each word. “This. Fucking. Pussy.”

You choke on a sob. You’re close—so close it hurts—but she’s still holding back, still keeping the rhythm just on the edge of unbearable.

“Please,” you breathe, voice wrecked. “Abby, please—just fuck me. I’m yours, just—please—”

Something in her breaks then—cracks open and spills.

And she does.

She fucks you.

Harder now. Deeper. Her grip on your hips turns bruising as she sets a rhythm that rocks the bed, slick and filthy and so good it knocks the air from your lungs. Your body opens for her, greedy and pliant, each thrust punching pleasure through your core like a heartbeat.

Your orgasm builds hard and fast—helpless. Hot. Violent.

And Abby knows.

She can feel it—in the way your pussy clamps down hard around the strap with every thrust, the tight heat pulling her deeper inside you. Your breath hitches, torn and ragged, spilling out in desperate gasps that make her pulse quicken.

“You gonna come for me?” she whispers, breath hot and shuddering against your ear. “Gonna come all over my cock like my good, fucking girl?”

You nod, helpless, the ache inside you breaking loose, unravelling you whole.

She doesn’t slow—not even for a second. Her hips press flush to yours, the harness tight against her skin, the base of the dildo pressing firmly against her own clit through the leather. The friction—a deep, steady pressure matched perfectly to the rhythm of her movements—sends a shiver crawling up her spine, sparking fire between her legs.

Her hands glide down your sides, fingers digging into your hips, then roam lower, settling on your trembling thighs. She holds you steady, grounding herself even as the heat inside her coils tighter, threatening to break free.

Her breath stutters as she finds the perfect angle, adjusting the harness with careful precision, pulling you flush against her. The base presses harder against her clit, each roll of her hips driving her deeper into that maddening, delicious friction. It’s relentless—an exquisite torment that twists in her belly.

Her eyes flutter shut, mouth parting in a soft, ragged gasp.

“This,” she breathes, voice rough, almost desperate, “this is fucking heaven.”

She picks up the pace—hips rolling harder, grinding deeper. The leather strap rubs hot against your slick folds, every stroke slick and urgent. Your hands clutch at her back, nails digging in, pulling her impossibly close. Your bodies move in perfect sync—breath mingling, skin slick with sweat, hearts hammering.

The tension coils tighter and tighter, a spring wound just for this moment. Her breath catches—yours trembles—and you both teeter on the edge.

“Fuck,” she gasps, voice raw and ragged, “come with me.”

And you do.

Together.

Your orgasm crashes over you both—wild, overwhelming waves breaking through every nerve ending. Your muscles clench and tremble around her thick shaft, a fierce, pulsing grip that threatens to swallow her whole. You cry out her name, voice breaking, lost in the tidal rush of sensation.

At the same moment, the base of the dildo rubs harder against Abby’s clit, the friction igniting a white-hot fire that crashes through her too. Her hips jerk forward, thrusting deeper, chasing the pulse spreading through her with every shudder.

Her breath stutters, voice breaking with need. “Fuck—I'm coming with you.”

Her whole body trembles against yours, shaking and clinging, every nerve alight with pleasure. She rides her release with slow, rolling hips, pressing deeper inside you, grounding you both in this beautiful, perfect wreck.

When the storm finally ebbs, she leans down, forehead resting softly against yours, her breath warm and steady on your cheek.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, voice low and reverent. “You’re perfect.”

And you believe her—every word, every aching moment of it.

Her body still trembles against yours, soft and spent, the slow, steady rhythm of her breath brushing over your skin like a whispered promise. The weight of her pressed close grounds you, safe and whole.

She pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded, glowing with the aftermath of everything.

Your fingers find the curve of her neck, tracing slow circles that soothe the fire still burning beneath your skin. She sighs, satisfied.

“You good?” she murmurs, voice rough but gentle.

You nod, words tangled up in the quiet, in the way your heart still races, and your body hums with lingering heat.

Her lips brush yours—a tender, lingering kiss full of reverence and something unspoken, something deep.

Slowly, she shifts, pulling the harness free, her hands warm as they settle over your hips, steadying you both. The room feels heavy with the silence that comes after, but it’s not empty. It’s full. Full of everything you’ve given each other.

She wraps an arm around you, drawing you close again, her body a steady anchor. Your cheek rests against her collarbone, breath mingling, hearts syncing in the quiet.

She keeps her hands gentle, slow, as she rubs your back, soothing away the last lingering tremors beneath your skin. After a while, she shifts, sitting back on her heels and looking at you with that soft, attentive gaze—like she’s reading every little need you haven’t spoken.

“Want me to help you clean up?” she asks, voice warm and tender.

You nod, barely able to form the words, and she’s already moving with that practiced care—her hands reaching for the harness straps, fingers deft and patient as she loosens them. The cool air grazes your heated skin as the strap comes free, and she sets it gently aside.

Her hands glide over you, wiping away the slick sheen of sweat and lube with a warm, soft cloth. The touch is gentle but deliberate, reverent—like she’s memorizing every inch of you all over again.

Abby stands and holds out her hand. “Come with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Her warmth radiates through your fingers as you take her hand, letting her guide you from the bed. She leads you into the dimly lit bathroom, the tile cool beneath your feet, the quiet hum of the fan the only sound as she reaches for the faucet.

She tests the water with her hand, adjusting the temperature with practiced care until steam begins to curl from the edges of the glass door. The soft hiss of water hitting porcelain fills the space like white noise, soothing and gentle.

When it’s just right, she turns back to you, eyes soft as she steps into the shower first, her body disappearing into the warm mist. Then she reaches out again, hand open, inviting.

“Come here,” she murmurs.

She steps in first, the heat enveloping her before she pulls you close, the water washing over both your bodies. Her hands explore anew—soft, wet, alive—tracing curves and hollows with loving care, rinsing away the remnants of your shared heat.

Your breath catches when she presses you against her, the slickness of water and skin mixing, the steady rhythm of her touch grounding you in the moment.

Her fingers thread through your wet hair as she leans down, lips brushing your temple, neck, and finally your mouth in a slow, tender kiss. The steam swirls around you both, wrapping you in a quiet intimacy.

She murmurs against your ear, “You’re so beautiful,” voice low and tender.

Her hands glide over your shoulders, down your arms, lingering at your hips as she pulls you closer, skin slick against skin. The warmth of the water and her body seeping into you, chasing away every leftover ache, every fragment of tension.

You slide your hands along her sides, feeling the soft muscles under her skin, the steady beat of her heart beneath your palms.

For a long moment, you simply hold each other, suspended in that perfect calm—the world outside forgotten, reduced to the sound of water and slow mingling breaths.

Eventually, she reaches for the shampoo, gently massaging your scalp, fingers working through your hair as you tilt your head back and sigh into the sensation.

Her lips brush your forehead as she rinses your hair, the water carrying away every trace of heat and longing.

Then, carefully, she washes her own hair, the simple act of care grounding you both even more.

When the water slows and the steam begins to fade, she wraps you in a plush towel, pulling you close again. Her hands cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as she searches your eyes.

Her eyes search yours for a long, quiet beat—tender, steady, like she’s seeing something she doesn’t want to look away from. Then she leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips—soft and slow, not demanding, just there, full of everything she doesn’t say aloud.

You melt into it, into her, lips parting slightly as her fingers stay gentle on your cheeks, holding you like something fragile and treasured all at once.

When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests against yours again. “Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s get you warm.”

She towels you off with quiet care, wrapping the thick fabric around your shoulders before grabbing one for herself. The air is cool outside the bathroom, but she doesn't let you feel it for long—one arm loops around your waist, keeping you close as she guides you back to the bedroom.

She disappears briefly into the dresser, tugging open a drawer and pulling out a soft, worn-in shirt—something oversized, faded at the edges, the scent of her skin clinging to the fabric.

Wordlessly, she helps you slip it over your head, her knuckles brushing along your sides in the process. The shirt drapes over you like a second embrace, and you can't help the small, content noise that escapes you.

“Looks better on you,” she murmurs, lips curving into a slow, sleepy smile as she pulls back the covers, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound between you for a beat.

You slip beneath the sheets, the cool cotton brushing against your skin before your body sinks into the lingering warmth of the mattress. The oversized shirt she gave you drapes down to your thighs, swallowing you whole in her scent—faint traces of cedarwood, clean linen, and something uniquely her.

Abby joins you a moment later, the mattress dipping gently under her weight. She doesn’t hesitate—just moves with the same quiet certainty that’s carried through everything tonight, her arm curling around your waist like instinct, like muscle memory. Her chest presses to your back, strong and steady, anchoring you.

She exhales slowly against the nape of your neck, the warmth of it slipping beneath your skin. Her hand finds yours beneath the blanket, fingers tangling with yours in a soft, grounding hold. The pads of her fingers stroke slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, like she can still feel the echo of your heartbeat there.

“You good?” she asks again, her voice low and rough with sleep, but laced with genuine care—like she’s not just asking about tonight, but everything.

You nod, pressing back into her, feeling her body mold around yours, heat to heat, skin to skin. This time, the words come easier. “Yeah. I am now.”

There’s a pause—quiet, intimate—before she leans in and presses a kiss to your shoulder, then the nape of your neck. It’s not hurried, not just a habit. It’s slow, like she means it. Like she wants to stay in this moment as long as time will allow.

Her voice is soft when she speaks next, almost reverent. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

And she does. You feel it in every place your bodies touch—in the way her fingers don’t let go of yours, in the way her legs tangle with yours like she’s trying to keep you close even in dreams. Her breath evens out slowly behind you, but her grip never falters.

The room settles into a warm hush, filled only with your joined breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as you shift to get even closer. Outside, the world moves on—quiet, indifferent—but in here, everything stills.

You close your eyes, wrapped in her scent, her warmth, her love.

Safe. Calm. Held.

And with her heartbeat steady at your back, you finally fall asleep.

#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #lesbian

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amphibianauthor · 7 months ago

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Ao3 HTML/Coding Resources Part II

This is the HTML/Coding for Website mimicking resources in Archive of our Own (Ao3). To find Part I where I go over the Basics, General Text HTML and some Fancy Formatting (images, dividers, columns, photos, tabs etc. CLICK HERE!

Other Websites:

Texting

-How to make iOS Text Messages on Ao3 by CodenameCarrot, La_Temperanza

-A Quick Generator for Embeddable iOS Text Messages by 221b_ee

-imessage Skin by Adzaema

-Retro imessage by Adzaema

-Basic Text Message Work Skin by ProfessorMotz

- Bubble platform [workskin] by Khashana

-Chat Log HTML by deathbymistletoe

-LINE Messenger/Chat by imperiousmarshmellow

-IDOLish Rabbit Chat Workskin by associate

-Replika workskin by FaeriMagic

-Texting Workskin to match light/dark mode by irrationalpie

Tumblr

-Tumblr style CSS Tweaks by Aposiopesis

-Ao3 Workskin Testing and Tutorials by junietuesday25 tumblr DM

-How to make Tumblr Posts on Ao3 by phyyripo

-Plain Text Social Media Platforms by anubisms

-Tumblr Post Work Skin by tsukinosaugi

Twitter

-Repository - Twitter by gadaursan

- How to mimic Social Media in an Ao3 work by aerynevenstar

-Twitter Work Skin Template by etc e tal

-Twitter Workskin: Tweets and Profile by starskin

-Twitter Mock-Up by TheBrookesNook

Ao3/Fandom

-How to mimic Authors notes and Kudos/Comment Buttons by La_Temperanza

-How to mimic AO3 Comments by bittermoons

-How to add mobile Ao3 in your fic by DemigodofAgni

-How to make a fanfic style header Ao3 style by ElectricAlice

-Template for adding post chapter content by SpookyTesting

-CSS based full Ao3 fic integration (Header/Overview, Comments, Title, Summary & Buttons) by deciMae

-How to Mimic LiveJournal Posts and Comments by cursedcuriosities

-Dreamwidth Entries & Comments Work Skin by folk_melody

Facebook/Instagram/Whatsapp

-Whatsapp Group Chat builder by FestiveFerret

-How to make Facebook Messenger Chat on Ao3 by ran_a_dom

-Whatsapp Work Skin Template Revamped by etc e tal

-Whatsapp group chat skin by ovely

-Instagram DMs for Ao3 by monarch_rhapsodies

-How to make Instagram DM mockup by xslytherclawx

-Penstagram chats on ao3 by deciMae

Snapchat

-Snapchat skin by Azdaema

-Snapchat Template for Ao3 by starskin

Reddit/Forum

-UPDATED Reddit Skin by diamine

-2020 Reddit Work Skin by timstokerlovebot

-Reddit Work Skin CSS & HTML by knave_of_swords

-How to mimic Social Media in an Ao3 work by aerynevenstar

-template Reddit Skin by spookedcroon

-template:Subreddit page by ireseen

-Ao3 workskin for Forum Thread by fencesit

-Ao3 workskin for Forum Thread [Expansion Pack] by AMereDream

-How to mimic 4chan posts without just taking screenshots of 4chan

Twitch/Youtube

-Mimicking Twitch Chat for fics by Ultraviollett

-Twitch Chat Work Skin by cherrari

-Workskin testing by tohmas [Youtube comments]

-Youtube Work Skin by 1864s

-Youtube Comment Section Workskin by LupaMoe

Discord/Slack/Zoom

-2023 Discord Theme Workskin by TrojanTeapot

-Discord Work Skin by unpredictableArtist

-Discord (Dark Theme) Workskin by Heterochromia_Mars

-Skin for Recreating Discord’s Server Member List by SpookyTesting

-Ao3 Workskin Testing and Tutorials by junietuesday25

-Slack Workskin by Khashana

-Zoom inspired Ao3 skin by mystyrust

Wikipedia

-Fake Wikipedia article about a TV show: Work Skin by Anonymous

-Wikipedia article work skin by styletests

-SCP Wiki Style Workskin by thesnager

Working Games in Ao3 Tutorials

Logic Grid Puzzle Work Skin & Tutorial by BookKeep

The Case Of The Clickable Murdle by VThinksOn

Review Sites:

Yelp Reviews by kiwiana

Amazon Reviews by kiwiana

Rate My Professor Work Skin by BookKeep

Video Game Dialog Mimics

-Dialog [workskin] by Clover_Zero

-Dialogue Workskin (with parallax BG effect) by mystyrust

-My S Ranks--System Windows by unpredictableArtist [computer dialog workskin]

-Tutorial: Ace Attorney Work Skin by QuailFence

-Among Us Ao3 skin by mystyrust

-How to Mimic Undertale Fonts on Ao3 by La_Temperanza

-Tutorial:Rain Code Work Skin by faish

-Balder's Gate 3 Documents Work Skin by Professor_Rye

-SpookyTesting has SOO many Nintendo based ones

–Mimicking Minecraft for some fics by Ultraviollett

Runescape Right Click Menu Formatting by fennfics

How to put Z skits in your Tales fics by wingedcatgirl

How to make Honkai: Star Rail Messages by html_hell (jihnari)

Hold-hands inspired Texting skin by cursedcuriocities(SetsuntaMew)

Simple Linkshell Ao3 Work Skin by Pent – Final Fantasy XIV mimic

Homestuck Chat Clients by 77angel-skins

Workskin: Slay the Princess by ASpooky

Slay the Princess: Updated Workskin by Lilto

Misc. Sites

--How to mimic Deadpool Thinking boxes by La_Temperanza

--FetLife Skin [Work Skin] by Khashana

--Disco Elysium workskin by SarunoHadaki

--StarTrek PADD workskin by duskyspirit

--MDZS-themed letters by allollipoppins

--A Newbie's Guide to Podficcing by Adzaema [skin for podfics]

--Skin for making Character Intro Cards by SpookyTesting

--Kpop Photocards by legonerd

–OVR System Workskin by unpredictableArtist

-How to make Stylized CSS Card Links for your fics by buttertartz

-vroom vroom kachow: Formula1 Race Results Workskin by mackerel_cheese

Bonus: Ever wanted to see how crazy HTML can be on AO3? Try playing But can it run Doom? or Tropémon by gifbot

Happy Creating!

Last updated: Feb 8 2025 (Have a resource that you want to share? My inbox is open!)

View Part I with HTML Basics HERE!

#archive of our own #html coding #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #fic writing #fanfic help #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3feed #fanfics #fanfic coding #fanfiction writer #fanfiction author #fanfiction crossover

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guurodoll · 20 days ago

Text

It's filthy, disgusting, so ugly, I'm sure.

this is the calm before the storm, so none of the warnings apply (aside from non-consensual drug use) yet. mdni ! chapter 2

here is the ao3 link ! ♡

tonight was like any other in your life, mundane, silence and the occasional key-click being the only thing filling the air around you as you idly scrolled on your computer. not necessarily bad, but it wasn't anything special. at times like this, the usual pessimistic thoughts would slowly seep into your dissociating mind. you run through the same questions over and over, like you'd get paid for every time you thought them. the endless what ifs, and what could've been, and where you'd be if you hadn't-

. . .

the sharp ache in your back quickly brought you back to reality, a small grunt echoing off the walls as you stretched your back. fuck it, you don't have work tomorrow, so why not go out tonight? it'd be better than wasting another evening staring at a screen in bed, even if you didn't drink or party. rummaging through your closet, you settled for a somewhat short dress that was comfortable yet complimentary. during any other occasion, your usual go-to outfit would've been fine, but tonight almost felt like a treat for yourself. your friends mentioned a few places they'd gone to before, some seeming less friendly than others, while some seemed too fancy for your taste. looking through your texts with your colleagues, your eyes settled on a particular place - the jackalope. it seemed okay enough, the reviews for the place weren't outstanding, but it was walking distance and looked harmless. with an indifferent shrug, you grabbed your jacket and made your way to the pub.

the cold air nipped at your skin, and suddenly you were grateful that you decided to bring your once 'bothersome' jacket. quickly slipping your arms into the sleeves, you hugged yourself to reinstate your warmth. thankfully you knew the general direction you were heading in, meaning you didn't have to use your phone and you could keep your frigid hands in your pockets. the crisp sound of your footsteps was the only thing you could hear outside of the wind whipping in your ears. it felt somewhat . . . serene. a beat of unfocused silence passed before you snapped yourself back into reality, you're in public, at night. you need to be aware.

anxiety soon bubbled in your stomach, the night sky looks darker than that familiar blue you're used to, and the streets looked more empty than usual. the back of your head felt hot, like someone was trying to burn a hole into the back of your skull. without warning, you forced the stiffness from your neck and whipped your head around. your breath was slightly labored as you took in your surroundings, eyes darting everywhere they could to find something to blame for this sudden anxiousness. after what felt like an eternity, a heavy sigh of relief left you, your hand clutching your heart as you continued on your path. that obviously didn't absolve every bit of your anxiety, but you always got so in your head about this kind of thing, so there was no need to stress.

. . . oh dear, you really should've looked closer at that tree.

not long after exiting your neighborhood you entered familiar streets, forcing you to lift your gaze from the concrete beneath you. your gaze flickered across multiple street signs and store entrances, and after some time you found yourself in front of the jackalope. a timid breath escaped your lips before you could catch it, the fog from it snapping you out of your trance. your steps grew more confident as you stepped into the pub, the muggy air a stark contrast from the numbing streets you were walking in. the bartender casts you a kind smile as you make your way to the counter, you put your jacket on the back of your seat, finally settling in. their voice is unexpectedly smooth as they ask if you'd like anything to drink, warmth coloring their features as you politely decline alcohol and instead ask for a glass of water. they make courteous conversation, occasionally humming in response to your words before they moved onto new patrons, offering a nod as a subtle end to your conversation.

you absentmindedly traced your finger across the ridges of the glass in front of you, your eyes surveying the area. no tv's, no boisterous groups, and not overly crowded either . . . it looked peaceful- no, welcoming? you couldn't put your finger on it, but it was exactly as pleasant as the pictures your friend sent you. for the first time tonight, you really let your guard down, the entirety of your body relaxing. the ambiance was enough to keep you entertained, even though you weren't part of any particular conversation, and every so often you laughed at a bad joke you overheard. soon though, the ambiance started to lull you further into relaxation, and at a point you couldn't remember, you fell asleep.

a sharp jolt went through your body as you woke up, your heart hammering against your ribs as you recollected yourself. right, you went to the pub your friend told you about, you know exactly where you are and how to get home. you pulled your phone out of your pocket, only to be met with a dead battery and a blank screen. after sighing to yourself, you looked around the once lively area to find only a handful of people. maybe the nap wasn't a short as you thought . . getting up from your stool at the bar, you made your way over to a blond gentleman partially hunched over a drink. he was the closest to you, and honestly looked the least intoxicated from the rest of the people in here, despite his current posture. when you reached his table, he didn't look up at you, seemingly lost in thought as he stared into his own reflection in his drink. after a moment of standing there awkwardly in silence, you gently tapped his shoulder. the blond immediately jumped, his blue eyes wide as his head snapped in your direction.

"oh-! oh, i-" a choked apology was all you could make out, the words he was searching for seemed to get caught in his throat, almost like it was preventing him from spewing word vomit all over your dress. clearing his throat he looked back to you, like a deer in headlights as he waited for you to say something. you offered him a sincere smile, your voice gentle as you spoke. "sorry, i was wondering if you had the time?" it took him a moment to process your words, and for a second you wondered if you hadn't spoken loud enough. his voice seemed less panicked, and it was then that the herbal smell emanating from him hit your senses. it wasn't necessarily bad, but it smelled more akin to dirt than it did something like lavender or cedar. "it's almost closing time, it's 1:45 AM." his voice drifted as he spoke, icy blue eyes looking everywhere but yours. he looked preoccupied, his gaze always looking around you, never at you. your brows rose at his words, shock immediately painting your face. either people falling asleep here was a regular thing, or no one was bothered enough to check on you.

you smiled bashfully, letting out an embarrassed laugh to clear your throat. "thank you! i guess i really lost track of time . ." instead of shunning you, he returned your smile with a sheepish one of his own, offering a slight nod in response. "yeah, i get that . . but, uh- i'll probably leave soon though." you understood, after all it was almost closing time, but another part of you was more curious as to why he didn't just leave now. his brow quirked slightly, seemingly reading your mind, but the inquisitive look on your face was a dead giveaway. "i'm just waiting for my . . . friend." you weren't given a chance to ask or even ponder about his 'friend' before you saw a flurry of read hair leaving the bathroom, immediately standing next to the table. "alright Lawrence, let's- oh!" he abruptly cut himself off as he saw you, his brows raising as his cheerful voice stilled. while you took in his appearance, you caught what seemed to be a flash of excitement glint across his features. the sight of it made your stomach twist, but not necessarily in a bad way, maybe you'd met him somewhere before and just didn't remember? no, it couldn't be that, there's no way you'd forget someone with such bright hair, or such peculiar facial markings. after an awkward beat of silence, he decided to break it. "well, i'm Ren! it's nice to meet you." he introduced himself with a smile-

wait . . were those fangs? there's no way, maybe you were just seeing things, or- or maybe he just had particularly sharp canines? either way he seemed harmless, perhaps you judged him too harshly. regardless of whatever he had going on with his teeth, he was more welcoming than the other man- oh, right, Lawrence. Ren broke your train of thought with an expectant look, and at that point you realized you were staring. you let out another awkward laugh, something you were becoming very familiar with this particular evening, and introduced yourself. "i'm ____, it's nice to meet you too!" you return his smile with one of your own. for a moment you considered extending your hand for a shake, but the atmosphere was already so tense, you decided against it. you, Ren, and Lawrence all exchanged uncomfortable looks. what was up with these two? you shift nervously on your feet, were you interrupting something? biting the inside of your cheek, you decide it was your turn to break the silence. "is there something wrong, Ren?" you would've missed the way he instantaneously perked up at the sound of his name if you hadn't been staring right at him, the action endearing but also a little off-putting. he shook his head, a smile reappearing on his face as he did so. "everything's great! hey, why don't i get us a round before last call?" before you get a chance to respond, he's already prancing off to the bar. you look back to Lawrence, who's standing eerily stiff yet fidgety at the same time. "i . . . uhm . ." he didn't even speak before he hurriedly followed Ren.

. . . well, that was weird- scratch that, they're weird. but they didn't seem dangerous, so maybe one drink wouldn't hurt. you sat down at their table, confusion still lingering as you watched the two . . were they bickering? it surely looked like it, their conversation was quick and hushed, an occasional glance in your direction. you didn't get the opportunity to think about it for too long before they returned with drinks, both of them now smiling. Lawrence set a drink down in front of each of you, hands slightly shaking as he did so. "one last drink for the night . ." he mumbled, a habit of his, you noticed. you took your glass, trying to ignore how Ren stared at you from the corner of your eye. taking a tentative sip, you peered down the glass as the flavor of the drink finally reached you. it was a rum and coke, simple, but you couldn't help but notice an unusual aftertaste . . maybe the rum was aged? the drink wasn't bad, and it was free, so you decided to not fuss about it. as the time passed, you finished your drink and, looking across the table at your . . acquaintances, you noticed neither of them touched their drinks. an anxious sweat dripped down your neck, your finger tracing around the rim of the glass nervously.

Ren chewed the side of his lip, worry suddenly painting his face as he started to get up from his seat. "it's- it's getting pretty late, i think i should get going." Lawrence's head shot up, his shoulders tense with confusion as he stood up from his own seat. "wait- you're leaving?" he asked, his tone somewhat desperate. "s-sorry.." the redhead shot him a sympathetic glance, pushing his chair in before scurrying out the door. "hey- wait!!" Lawrence called out, not bothering to push in his chair as he dashed outside after him. baffled, you sat there in silence for about a minute before shaking your head and throwing your hands up in defeat. those two aren't your business anyway, no reason to dwell on it, besides, you should've been home hours ago. grabbing the cups, you brought them back to the bar before grabbing your coat and heading out. the cold air hit your face, and you were immediately reminded as to why you brought it in the first place. you glanced around as you slipped the coat onto your shoulders, Lawrence and Ren nowhere in sight. well . . that was - weird, to say the least. shrugging it off, you started your way back home. you weren't even a full stride away before you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder, causing you to jump harshly as you turned around to find the culprit.

"wha- oh, Lawrence? are you alright?" you tried to hide the surprise in your voice as you looked at him, not being able to tell if him sneaking up or him appearing out of nowhere was more frightening. he didn't bother meeting your gaze, his shoulders still tense as he kept his eyes glued to the cement. "Ren's path . . split from mine . ." he mumbled again, his voice barely audible over the sound of passing cars. you looked at him confused, taking a small step back as you did so . . this guy's fucking strange, and that's putting it lightly. "didn't- didn't Ren just leave because it was so late?" you tried to reason with him, offering up an understandable response to his unsettling statement. "Ren was different . ." . . . yeah, no, it's time to go. "i'm sorry, i'm sure Ren just wanted to get home." like you should be right now, but your response only seemed to push him off whatever ledge he was on, his eyes snapping up as he- holy shit! time seemed to freeze, your body acting on instinct, barely dodging his fist. he took a swing at you! he let out a pained groan as he held his fist, knuckles red and bleeding from how hard he hit the brick wall where your head had been. suddenly, you decided you had no more kindness left to spare, and booked it.

after a while your steps became unsteady, just how strong was that rum? after a moment, you could no longer hear him behind you. you glanced up and saw an alley up ahead to your right; pushing your heavy limbs just a bit more, you stumbled into the alley, right hand gripping the wall for support. your breath came out in ragged gasps, your other hand holding your aching chest as you tried to control your breathing. dizziness washed over you in waves, your limbs growing heavier as you scanned your surroundings. he'd catch up sooner or later and you'd need some place to hide . . - what was that? taking an unbalanced step forward, you squinted to try and straighten your blurring vision. is that a fox tail? you held your aching head in your hands, what the hell is going on? foxes shouldn't be in this part of town, how- "____?!" your head snapped upward at the familiar voice, vision suddenly splitting from the quick movement. "come with me, i'll help you!" Ren called out, opening his arms expectantly, he seemed to expect a lot . . focus! "Ren . .? you have- i don't-. ." your footing swayed, knees buckling as you fell into his embrace. "i know, i know." he cooed at you, wrapping his arms under yours to keep you upright. "it'll be okay . . i'll keep you safe." you barely registered what he said before your body gave in, vision going black as you lost consciousness.

dn't get the opportunity to think about it for too long before they both returned with drinksboth of them now smiling. Lawrence set a drink down in front of each of you, hands slightly shaking as he did so. "one last drink for the night . ." he mumbled, a habit of his, you noticed. you took your glass, trying to ignore how Ren stared at you from the corner of your eye. taking a tentative sip, you peered down the glass as the flavor of the drink finally reached you. it was a rum and coke, simple, but you couldn't help but notice an unusual aftertaste . . maybe the rum was aged? the drink wasn't bad, and it was free, so you decided to not fuss about it. as the time passed, you finished your drink, looking across the table at your . . acquaintances, you noticed neither of them touched their drinks. an anxious sweat dripped down your neck, your finger tracing around the rim of the glass nervously.

Ren bit the side of his lip, worry suddenly painting his face as he started to get up from his seat. "its- its getting pretty late, i think i should get going." Lawrence's head shot up, his shoulders tense with confusion as he stood up from his own seat. "wait- you're leaving?" he asked, his tone somewhat desperate. "s-sorry.." the redhead shot him a sympathetic glance, pushing his chair in before scurrying out the door. "hey- wait!!" Lawrence called out, not bothering to push in his chair as he dashed outside after him. baffled, you sat there in silence for about a minute before shaking your head and throwing your hands up in defense. those two aren't your business anyway, no reason to dwell on it, besides, you should've been home hours ago. grabbing the cups, you brought them back to the bar before grabbing your coat and heading out. the cold air hit your face, and you were immediately reminded as to why you brought it in the first place. you glanced around as you slipped the coat onto your shoulders, Lawrence and Ren nowhere in sight. well . . that was - weird, to say the least. shrugging it off, you started your way back home. you weren't even a full stride away before you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder, causing you to jump harshly as you turned around to find the culprit.

"wha- oh, Lawrence? are you alright?" you tried to hide the surprise in your voice as you looked at him, not being able to tell if him sneaking up or him appearing out of nowhere was more frightening. he didn't bother meeting your gaze, his shoulders tense as he kept his eyes glued to the cement. "Ren's path . . split from mine . ." he mumbled again, his voice barely audible over the sound of passing cars. you looked at him confused, taking a small step back as you did so . . this guy's fucking strange, to say the least. "didn't- didn't Ren just leave because it was so late?" you tried to reason with him, offering up an understandable response to his unsettling statement. "Ren was different . ." . . . yeah, no, it's time to go. "i'm sorry, i'm sure Ren just wanted to get home." like you should be right now, but your response only seemed to push him off whatever ledge he was on, his eyes snapping up as he- holy shit! time seemed to freeze, your body jumping upon reflex, barely missing his fist. he took a swing at you! he let out a pained groan as he held his fist, knuckles red and bleeding from how hard he hit the brick wall beside him. suddenly, you decided you had no more kindness left to spare, and booked it.

after a while your steps became unsteady, just how strong was that rum? you could no longer hear him behind you, you saw an alley up ahead to your right. pushing your heavy limbs just a bit more, you stumbled into the alley, your hand gripping the wall for support. your breath came out in ragged gasps, your other hand holding your aching chest as you tried to steady yourself. dizziness washed over you in waves, your limbs growing heavier as you scanned your surroundings, he'd catch up sooner or later and you'd need some place to hide . . - what was that? taking an unbalanced step forward, you squinted to try and straighten your blurring vision. is that a fox tail? you held your aching head in your hands, what the hell is going on? foxes shouldn't be in this part of town, how- "____?!" your head snapped upward at the familiar voice, vision suddenly splitting from the quick movement. "come with me, i'll help you!" Ren called out, opening his arms expectantly, he seemed to expect a lot . . focus! "Ren . .? you have- i don't-. ." your footing swayed, knees buckling as you fell into his embrace. "i know, i know." he cooed at you, wrapping his arms under yours to keep you upright. "it'll be okay . . i'll keep you safe." you barely registered what he said before your body gave in, vision going black as you lost consciousness.

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cigar-aficionado · 5 months ago

Text

clean me off, i'm so dirty babe! ch. 2

oz cobb x reader / 2326 words / nsfw, mdni!! / chapter 1

summary: oz takes you out on a date. you take him back to your place.

tags: gn reader, though oz does call reader 'doll' and 'sweetheart' on a number of occasions, brief alcohol (reader drinks wine and whiskey but doesn't get drunk), reader wears lingerie, condom use, penetrative sex (though i tried to keep it vague), reader on top but not domming, no use of y/n

Oz texts you as promised and you agree to meet at a restaurant right by your work. You look at the website for the place he suggests and it’s fancy, so you put on your best outfit and shoes, looking at yourself in the mirror by your front door before you head out.

You arrive at the restaurant, speaking to the host who smiles and tells you that he’s already here. The host leads you and you can’t help but look around at the massive chandeliers and exquisite tiling – Oz has serious taste.

You see him first but then he sees you and smiles, standing up. “You’re a vision, Doll,” he says, pulling your chair out for you. You smile and sit, taking a sip of the water that’s there as he sits back down. “This is one of my favorite places, I always come here after a good day. Or, frankly, after a real bad one.”

That makes you smile, “Honored to be here, in your happy place. Or comfort place.”

Oz asks about your wine preferences and asks if you’d like him to order a bottle. You agree that it sounds like fun, telling him that anything with bubbles tends to be your favorite. “You know, you’re right. Tonight does feel like a celebration,” he says with a soft little smile.

“Yeah?”

He nods, “It’s been a long time since I went out with someone like this. My work doesn’t leave a lot of time for dates and things like that.”

“Well, I’m glad to be here,” you say, raising your water glass in toast. He smiles and does the same and you sip before asking, “So what’s it like owning a nightclub? Is it fun?”

“It’s a helluva lot of work, some nights I’m puttin’ out fires I didn’t even know existed. But you know something?” Oz smiles broadly, “It’s the best job I ever had, hands down. Oh, yeah, reminds me – I tried a facial the other day. It was nice, ended up making another appointment in a couple weeks.”

You smile, “Thought you were glowing more than usual tonight.”

Oz smiles in a way that’s warm, genuine – it makes your heart skip. The waiter comes back and takes your wine order. They leave, and he smiles at you, “Tell me about yourself. You like the laundromat?”

You laugh a little, nodding, “Got the job in college, and just…stayed. They pay me well, bonuses, yearly raises.”

Oz nods, “What'd you study?”

“Fashion. History and design.”

“Ah, is that why you wanted to work with clothes?”

You chuckle and shrug, “To be completely honest with you, it sounded better than food service. It’s not quite the same, it’s like…alterations is like following an exact recipe. You mess it up the wrong way, you gotta start over. Fashion design is like making a kitchen sink meal – you’ve got more freedom, it’s just figuring out how to make the flavors mesh.”

Oz talks to you some more about your studies and your interests outside of work. You have wine, order your food, and chat some more, the air between you very easy.

You’d been nervous about going out with one of your favorite customers – it’s been a while since you last went on a date in general, and it’d been a little intimidating to mix business with pleasure so to speak. But Oz makes you feel very comfortable; even when the food comes, you find that you’re able to eat easily.

The two of you are both good at keeping the conversation going. You make him laugh, just as he does to you.

When you’re leaving the restaurant, you smile and tell him that you live within walking distance. It’s a hint, one he takes, asking you in response if you’d like him to walk you to your building.

You do.

Oz takes your hand and it feels so easy and right. When you arrive at your building, he stops and hesitates like he wants to kiss you but doesn’t know how to ask and you stroke the inside of his wrist with your thumb, bringing him closer and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask with a little smile.

He strokes your cheek. “Dinner that good, hm?”

“I had a lot of fun. Not ready for it to end.”

Oz smiles, squeezing your hand, “Lead the way.”

You take him upstairs – a short elevator ride – through the beige-on-grey hallway to your door, unlocking it and letting him in first as you turn on the light and close the door. “Beautiful place ya got here,” he says, looking around at your decor.

You smile, hanging your keys on the hook by the door, “Thank you. Make yourself at home. You want a drink?”

“A drink would be lovely, Doll. Dealer’s choice, I trust your taste.”

“No bubbles, unfortunately, but I do have a brand new bottle of Japanese whisky I’ve been wanting to break into.”

Oz smirks, “I got the feelin’ this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Sweetheart.”

You’re on the couch with him for maybe twenty-five minutes of easy conversation about your dinner before you’re scooting closer. It’s maybe five more minutes before you kiss him again, holding him as you deepen it. You stroke his cheek with your thumb – the unscarred one, you’re not sure where he stands on that being touched and you don’t want to push.

Oz’s tongue slides against yours and you’re glad you’re sitting because it makes you weak in the knees. He’s hesitant like he doesn’t do this very often, his hands sort of awkwardly placed and his kiss good but a little stiff.

You stroke over his chest, pulling back to kiss his jaw, then his neck. He exhales shakily and you smirk a little, letting your teeth sink into his neck. The move makes him moan, the sound going right between your legs. “Doll,” he groans, almost whining, and you’re not sure you’ve heard a sweeter sound.

“Is it too forward to ask if you want to see my room?” You ask with a little smile.

Oz chuckles softly, clearly trying to be suave but coming off almost shy, “You need someone to test your bed for you?”

You smirk, moving your hand to stroke his cheek, “I do. And I think you’re just the man for the job.”

“Let’s take a look at it.”

You take his hand, leading him to your bedroom and kissing him again. He smiles when he pulls back, like he can’t quite believe that he’s here, which makes you smile too. Your hands go to his shirt, finding the first button that’s done – much to your delight, the very top one was already unbuttoned, showing a tasteful peek of his chest. You’d noticed on several occasions that he usually has a bit of his chest hair out (though you tried not to openly ogle.)

Oz doesn’t stop you though he doesn’t make any moves to take your clothes off just yet. You’ve cleaned this shirt before, you recognize it and it’s so different touching his clothes like this, cologned and warm from his body.

You stroke the panel of his skin exposed by his open shirt reverently, then you bring your hand up to push one of his suspenders off his big, broad shoulder. He shrugs off the other one, kissing you again as you carefully untuck his shirt from his pants but he stops you from going any further with his hands. “Is it alright if I do this part, Sweetheart?”

“Of course.” You’d never want him to be uncomfortable.

He nods and you decide to work on taking off your outfit while he does his pants. Oz sits on the bed and starts with his brace, so you look away, getting out of your clothes. You do catch him sticking a condom on the nightstand before properly taking his pants off which makes you half smile – maybe you hadn’t been the only one hoping for this.

“Wow, Doll,” he says when he looks at you, breathless.

You’d opted for a deep purple lingerie set just in case you made it here with him. His compliment makes you smile, stepping closer to where he’s sitting on the bed – his body is even more beautiful all exposed like this. “Will you get on your back for me?” You ask, stroking his cheek.

He nods, quickly shucking his boxers and taking his place on his back with his head on your pillow. You bite your lip; you can’t help but look him over in wonder.

You leave your lace on for now and move so you’re straddling his hips, his hard cock resting on your ass. Oz looks at you with big eyes and you take one of his hands, kissing his knuckles and putting it on your hip. “Was I right thinking purple’s your favorite color?”

Oz chuckles, almost bashful, “You wore this for me?”

“Didn’t wear it for the doorman,” you smirk, stroking gently over his unscarred cheek.

There’s a fraction of a second where Oz looks like he’s about to cry but he clears his throat, stroking over one of the straps of your lingerie, “You can do whatever you want to me tonight, Doll. I’m all yours.”

You chuckle softly, kissing his cheek, “I want it to be good for you.”

“Oh I’m positive it’ll be good.” Oz smiles, looking up at you, running the back of his hand down your side, over your waist. You lean to kiss him again, unable to get enough, moaning as you feel his callused hands travel over your sensitive skin.

You lean again to get the condom off the nightstand, placing it beside you with a little smirk. First, though, you want to take a minute to really look at him and let him touch you. You let your hand roam over his chest, making him close his eyes in a way that’s more relaxed than anticipatory. Good.

Oz licks his lips when your fingers rub over his nipple, eyes opening to reveal a gaze that’s equal parts fiery and soft. “Haven’t been touched like that in a long time, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his eyes slowly tracing over your body.

“No?” You ask.

He shakes his head. You tsk, repeating your touch on his other nipple, a little firmer which makes him moan. “Please, please Doll…”

Hearing him beg is almost magical and you can’t resist giving him what he’s asking for. Carefully, you move back so his hard, leaking cock is in front of you. You stroke it slowly, making him moan again before opening the condom.

Oz offers, raggedly, to help you put it on but you shake your head, “I wanna do all the work.”

“Mhm, okay, okay Sweetheart.”

You roll the condom on his length and take a breath before shifting your body to take his hardness inside you. He keens out your name, the sound so delicious it makes you throb and twitch between your legs. Oz’s hands are on your thighs and you take them into your hands, moving them up to your hips to hold. He squeezes in a way that draws another moan from you, a blush crossing your cheeks.

Oz opens his big, gorgeous eyes when you start moving, taking it slow at first. From this angle, you can see all of him and you marvel at his chest, his face, and you catch him looking over your body too.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he whispers, panting.

“You like it?” You give him a smirk as you ride him slowly.

“Doll…” He gasps, his eyes meeting yours, half-lidded and glazed with lust. Oz squeezes your hips, moving his own to meet your thrusts and give you both more friction, “Fuck, fuck…”

It already feels so good, hushed moans leaving you as you work. You lean over to kiss him, briefly slowing your motions to do so. He kisses you back, full lips parting to let you in and take the lead, and you’re happy to.

Kissing him and fucking him is incredible, you can’t remember the last time you felt these levels of joy through your body. You’re whining and you move back up so you can look at him and that gorgeous body of his. “I’m gettin’ close already,” he sounds almost apologetic but no less turned on, his hips stuttering.

You slow your motions, moaning again for him. You take Oz’s hand and move it to the sensitive skin between your legs, guiding it to help you get closer to the edge. His hands are surprisingly slender for a man his size but they’re callused, the roughness adding a pleasurable texture that leaves your thighs shaking right away as he works your slick, needy skin. “Just a little faster, Handsome, just a little more…”

“Fuck, fuck Sweetheart, I’m – “

“You can cum for me, Baby,” you say without even realizing it, you’re too blissed out.

“Fuck,” his eyes roll back a bit and you feel him finish and soften inside you. He moves his hands faster to help you get there too and you’re so close that it works, white-hot pleasure washing over your body and mind. You practically collapse on top of him, kissing him before dismounting and laying beside him.

Oz pulls you into another kiss after you sigh dreamily. You stay close to his warm body, trying not to watch as he takes off the condom and sticks it in the small trash bin beside your bed. “That was incredible,” he says, taking you into his arms.

“For me too,” you smile, taking his hand and kissing it gently. “Will you stay here tonight?”

Oz chuckles though it barely makes a sound. “Not sure I can promise a repeat performance.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not expecting that. Not until the morning,” you add with a little smirk.

#oz cobb x reader #the penguin hbo #x reader #FINALLYYYYY sorry for the wait y'all <3 i think this one's finished now unless i get any ideas for a part 3 <3 #enjoy !! <3

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xannador · 8 months ago

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Thank you!

A big thank you to everyone who got a copy of Mostly (h)Armless! I think that for an obscure little fancomic it did really well! About 30 copies have gone where none can ever take them away again. I've also finally received my own version and I am happy about the quality.

I've now unpublished it but turns out you can never entirely take a book off the store once published. You can't edit it to be something else either. (which is what I had hoped to do, I have a bunch of unpublished original comics lying around). So it's just kinda going to sit there for all eternity, unavailable for sale. I sincerely hope it won't give me problems later on.

Anyway, if anyone is curious about one day printing their own comics, here are a few things I have noticed that I will definitely remember for my future printing endeavors:

Most glow and blending effects like Lighten, Color dodge, Hard Light, Linear dodge (add), etc don't look that nice in print despite looking awesome in digital.

Make your line art thick enough.

soft shading looks bad, cell shading looks good. (But it's better to fully fill shapes with a contrasting color rather than doing fancy lighting.)

Consider shading in black rather than color. (optional)

Details and soft lines are usually lost and a waste of time (Mostly in case of a colored book. Black and white may be different)

Keep panels spaced far enough apart.

Draw big panels. Small panels aren't as nice to look at and the eyes are naturally drawn to the larger panels.

Gradients don't look very nice either. Unless they have a light color.

Vintage comic textures and effects actually looks nicer in print than digital (which surprised me).

In dark scenes, rim lights are essential to make the character pop out. M(h)A would've looked like ass if I hadn't added those.

Stay away from the borders of your page, especially the left and right ones. Not just for the text but for the drawings too.

Keep track of which side of your page will be closest to the spine, keep a distance from that side especially. Because your book will be folded and part of the page will be hidden (the thicker your book, the more will be lost).

fancy panel compositions are cooler in digital...

contrast contrast contrast...

Don't be afraid to use pure black a lot.

Don't be afraid to use white a lot.

The 3D shake effect is also not that cool on print. But looks gorgeous on digital.

To myself… keep the font size consistent…

If text is outside a text bubble, it should have a high contrast stroke

Text should always be high contrast in general.

Motion blur is really cool in digital but not so much on print.

Keep black silhouettes black, avoid adding any kind of subtle glow or texture.

Text bubbles can have color but they should be light (again high contrast) watch out for saturated green or blue or red. Test in greyscale. Contrast should be more than 70%.

Line art should not be colored. Keep it black for print.

Hard borders are better than soft borders. On everything.

white panel borders are better than black panel borders.

But white borders with a black stroke are probably the best (cause more contrast).

Again light colors are better than dark colors. To do dark scenes it might be better to just use black and contrast with a lighter color.

Line art perfection is not that interesting, especially in regards to hard surface shapes like robots. (Might be personal taste though. I enjoyed looking at robots with messier line art more than those where I did perfect brush strokes.)

Beware dark blue and purple...

Compositions and colors of both the left and right page should always fit together. I think I did that pretty well here at least.

If possible make your total amount of comic pages devisable by 4. (so 24 pages total, or 28, or 96, you get the idea) not including the cover and back. Or else add a little extra drawing to fill the remaining pages.

I think that's about everything I can see based on my own print. I'm sure that a fair few of the things that I found looking worse in print than digital could be resolved by just being... better at converting your files. There's the whole CMYK color mode thing but in my personal experience that has been such a pain to work with, and each time my prints looked worse attempting to convert the file rather than had I just left it in RBG and let the printer do the guessing work for me.

So if you're like me and you're hopeless at this technical mumbo jumbo printing stuff, I think just avoiding the things I mentioned while drawing should get you well under way to having a nice print. The most important thing to remember is that digital and physical media are two entirely different beasts and if you are interested in getting your comics printed it's easier to adapt your workflow to that from the start rather than going back and altering. A lot of the mistakes I made here are rookie ones and I should have known better. But it's very easy to get lost in the process once you've started. I hope to improve my next print significantly. Once I can make RBG look good, I might try CMYK again.... Maybe. Potentially. No.

Hope these tips can be of service to somebody. They'll be a useful archive for myself in any case. If anyone wants me to elaborate more on a specific point, I'm happy to explain.

#self publishing #print on demand #amazon self publish #printing #comic print

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doodle-pops · 1 year ago

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hello love, I just want your advice on how to customize my tumblr post like yours. I don't know how to add a header or to make the header small like a line(idk how to explain it), is there any tutorial on YouTube that can help me?.

I’m thankful that you asked for this because I’ve been meaning to make a post with guidelines on how I do my aesthetics on my post.

VARIOUS FONTS

Apart from the font variety that Tumblr usually provides, should it not be enough, you can also head on over to this site which will provide a wider variety of fonts that can be copied and pasted into your Tumblr post: Fancy Fonts Generator or any other.

COLOURED/GRADIENT TEXT

There are two ways to achieve coloured text on your Tumblr posts:

You can select or highlight your text and a series of colourful bubbles will appear on the screen—at the bottom for mobile and overhead for PC/laptop—for you to choose from. These are the basic, flat and standard colours Tumblr is limited to provide.

If you wish to have a wider variety of colours (like what I use) outside of Tumblr’s range, you can follow this tutorial I made to achieve the gradient texts I add to my posts. It is noted that the use of PC/laptop is preferred for editing gradient text >> Gradient Text Tutorial

You can also follow that same gradient text tutorial should you wish to have mono-coloured texts while using colours outside of Tumblr’s range. Simply allow your starting and ending colours to be the same code.

Please note only fonts provided on Tumblr can be turned into gradient text. Any external fonts would not appear in the gradient colours, but instead as one colour.

AESTHETICS/DIVIDERS/BANNERS

For my aesthetics that you see besides the character names like this ˚₊‧꒰ა໒꒱ ‧₊˚ and others, I just search for aesthetic symbol texts and copy and paste them.

The large strips of images I have on my Masterlist and Navigation posts are called banners/headers. The smaller ones that state text like “MDNI”, “Support/Reblog” or plain colours are dividers. I customise both on Canva—you don’t need premium, simply set up an account to save as you create.

With dividers, when I’m making the background transparent, I use Remove Background. If you are creating a simple coloured divider, you don’t need to remove it. It’s a simple strip of colour customised to your liking. The website is free, you don’t need to pay a dime, also Canva has lots of great options without premium.

Also, remember that Tumblr has an MB file limit, so don’t go crazy designing your banner or divider and then it’s too large to be uploaded. Furthermore, if you’re going to create a transparent image (not GIF because the RB site only allows images) do not use extremely intricate graphics that contain lots of cut-outs/spacings on your canvas or cover most of it with graphics/images. Leave a healthy ratio of images to space according to the size of the canvas. This way, the background-removing tool would be able to precisely remove the background without any issues.

If I missed anything, or if you would like any extra assistance, feel free to reach out! I’d be happy to help 🤗

#maedhrosiseverything2me #tutorial #notes ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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writing-with-olive · 4 months ago

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Hi I'm new to Tumblr, completely confused about how to use this app , may I get some help

Hey anon!

Okay so in terms of basic nav, I use the website version exclusively, so hopefully someone who uses it in app form can hop into the reblogs and add onto what I'm saying, but i can still somewhat show you the ropes.

First. Your Dash.

Unlike lots of other social media site, we don't have an algorithm. (Well we kinda do, but unless you enjoy seeing the same three posts for a month ad nauseum, we can agree it doesn't exist.) If you want to see posts on your dash, you have to follow people. Things they reblog will show up in chronological order on your dash. To find people to follow, you can search things you're interested in, and then follow more people if they show up on your dash after getting reblogged by someone you follow.

If you don't like something on your dash, you have a few options. You can unfollow the person who is posting stuff like that (this does not cause drama as most people don't really check who follows/unfollows them, and most keep that information private anyway). You can filter a tag or phrase that you don't like (tag filters are in settings). And lastly you can fully block the person. We are very big about curating our own internet experiences here, with the onus being on the user to decide what they do and don't wanna see - as a result tirades about people are rarely accepted unless it's a particularly extreme situation.

Next. The buttons.

The little "arrow circle" thing is the reblog button. Reblogs are the lifeblood of the site, as without them nothing takes off. If you like a post, you can reblog it, which will make it show up in your blog and put it on the dashboard of the people who follow you. If you have something meaningful to add, you can add it in the main section. If you have inside thoughts that don't really add, you can put it in the tags (tags can be whole sentences, not just individual words).

The "heart" button is likes. These do actually nothing, and function as a half-assed bookmark more than anything.

The little speech bubble thing is the comments section. If you put a comment here it will show up under any version of the post (unlike reblogs which will only show up on your reblog and people who reblog from you. This isn't used very often, but can be useful if you want to comment without spreading the post to others.

Engagement

Asks, if they're polite like yours are, are generally SUPER appreciated. People like talking to each other. People also enjoy playing ask games, where they post a list of numbered (or emoji'd) questions, and you pick one to ask. You can make someone's day by doing those

DMs are a bit more limited. Some people (like myself) don't mind people sliding into their DMs as long as it's appropriate and polite. Other people do mind, so see if they've posted a masterpost somewhere indicating a preference before trying to talk to them this way.

Another thing to remember is that privacy is a big thing here. While some people may share names or ages, it's pretty rare to see pictures or video of people.

Speaking of videos. If you're going to post images or videos, common curtesy is include a text description or transcription so that people can engage with audio off. Most people are here because they like text-based media, and including text-based helps with accessiblity issues.

Last major thing. Make sure to change your profile picture to something other than default. we have a bot problem and you may be insta-blocked by old-timers if you look like a bot. Another thing you can do is in your blog description, write "i'm not a bot" or something to that effect, or a more detailed description if you want to. It doesn't have to be fancy.

Anyway, this is a bit long, hopefully this helps!

#getting started with tumblr #tumblr use tips #tumblr newbie #how to use tumblr #welcome to tumblr

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hoje--aqui · 3 months ago

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hi there, just discovered your blog, binged scrolled and consumed all your posts. <3 [ sorry, i don't want to sound weird ] I have a question if you would be so kind to answer? I saw your WIP of Dear Your Holiness, and I am wondering how are you doing your speech-text bubbles? How do you make it look like texts? Is it a software? I am trying to typeset Did you miss me? - Fantismal&Krethes, and let me tell you, that is 80% text-bubbles. And I don't think what i've got going on now is very efficient. Right now i am editing the .css and .html directly in Calibre.

hi! I'm glad you like this blog, nothing weird about it, sorry about the messy house actually and be my guest!!

I really love your ask cause text bubbles are really a pain in the ass and I love babble about my typessets. So I warn you, this answer may be a bit longer than expected.

The short is: Existing 200k ways to do chat text on writer and more 200k to do on typessets.

Editing the .css and .html directly is my first time seeing it, but I guess it works very well too, just maybe too much time consuming. In general, the most common is pre-setting a paragraph on the software you use to design your project. Most of the softwares for writers can do this. So you can select the dialog, click a button and voilá all your dialogs will look the same and your typesset will be really beautiful really fast.

Affinity and Adobe InDesign I know better, but I know Word does this too, just don't know how. Find one to learn and have joy :)))

My personal response is more like: How do you want your project to look?

So I think the most important thing to me here is not where to do it, or how to do it fast, but how to do exactly what we want it and what we can do to make this happen. And here lives my lack of sanity.

It really depends on the project. I have done some fic with chats and none of them I did exactly the same way. But for my Dear Your Holiness project, I want this look of a mobile chat but without remembering any social media chat we know and I want make it fancy

So I try to emulate some things we see on these social media chats and with a bit of compulsory search I discover some things really helpful.

First of all, the typography choice

I'm a little biased here, I love typography. But it is exactly because of this that I notice that chat typography is simple. They need we read fast but without notice, so we don't have serifs, that remember us of academic texts, and the contrast are really light

I had this other typesser of Wish You Are Here by @afieryfox, and she uses Discord and Twitter to set her fic, in this case I choose the exact fonts that each platform uses to set my typesset (and setting a paragraph for each site). But in the main text I use some simple serifed font, to help the reading.

Main Text: Cambria

Discord: Whitney

Twitter/X : Helvetica Neue

The same to DYH, I chose a serif font with some fancy look to the body and a saint serif font to the text, but I chose one with some alike things to do not look too drastic.

I chose to set the main text in OldStyle because it has this vintage look., and the chats on Made infinit (this one I ask permission for personal use). They pretty similar except for the g, so i think work very well

The second was the contrast.

We had this constant that is the color of the chats, where who sends the text is the most eye-catching bubble, and the right one. So I just set this with the pov one being our dramatic bubble. In this case, our Padfoot

And the last thing, our guides and spaces!!

We are not on a mobile, so we have pretty much space and this is a problem, because chat texts are compacts and a book… not exactly. So what i did was divide the space I had to rearrange our text so we can feel like the space was purposeful

I divide my workspace in 3, and each side of the chat could only transpose ⅔. then they has their own section and don’t steal the friend's space.

this is not extremely strict, the text can transpass the line till I feel like is acceptable. So, if the text is too long and insist on cross the guide, i can shift then and make these big balloons

Other guides I like:

the space between the start of the text end the start of the bubble

the space between bubbles

the center of the text on inside de bubble

the last bubble with the call tail (idk how call this)

How I did my Dear Your Holiness chat bubbles?

I did all the typesset first.

I use Adobe Indesign to do my typessets, so I set up all the text blocks, with all the typos to set my pre-sert paragraphs. All my paragraphs are pre-settings cause I like my life easy when I can have it, cause the rest of the process is really time-consuming.

So set all the pre-set paragraphs and the dialogues exactly the way I want it. Till look something like this

So I take a simple print from the naked page and go to Adobe Illustrator, were I put the the cute little outfit (the bubble)

There I have a board setting on my page size to use the correct scale on the bubbles, I just scale the print on the board and fit the bubbles on the dialogues.

The bubbles are actually little rectangles with rounded corners. We can easily do the call tail (still don't know how call this thing) just push one off the corners staring, but I really wanted this sexy toothpaste curve, so I make this little shape and overlapped my bubble.

To put the bubbles over the print, i set the opacity on 80% or less just to confirm the guides and the * I left to mark the ones that will be big balloons. So I correct the opacity, remove the print and save as a pdf

the pdf I put above my text, and change the color of Sirius’s chat, because we can’t read black on black and voíla, -1 page to do.

Now all we need is repeat till end all dialogues bubbles left in the fic.

After some time this became a really mechanical thing, so listen to something in that maintime that the time flies. So yes, a pain in the ass as i said, but look how pretty they turn!!!!

yeah, I think that's it

I hope I've answered

#some pipipipópópó #ficbinding #book binding #typesetting #typeset #tutorial

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silvermoon424 · 2 years ago

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Hi! I wanted to know, how do you do typesetting for manga? What sort of tools do you use? I recently discovered a series that has text only translations, and wanted to learn how to typeset so I could combine them with the raw scans.

Hello! It's great to hear that someone else is getting into typesetting! I'm entirely self-taught (didn't even look at guides or anything, I just felt it out and it shows in my earlier work lol) but the nice thing about typesetting is that it's pretty easy to get a feel for. Honestly, Photoshop does most of the technical work; I would say a lot of typesetting has to do with art and visual aesthetics. It's your job to make things look right, and you can get really fancy with it (especially with sound effects).

I'm very slowly working on a very long PMMM doujinshi, here's a sample page of my work and what I mean about making things look "right" (in regards to text placement, cleaning bubbles, etc). My personal preference is to break up words as seldom as possible, which is a philosophy even a lot of official typesetters don't share lol (probably because a lot of typesetters value speed over little touches like that).

Anyway, Photoshop will be your best friend! I'll be honest, it's been a hot minute since I pirated my copy and I don't even think the method is valid anymore. From what I understand GenP (Windows) and AdobeZii (Mac) are the new methods of cracking Photoshop. Here are the GenP and AdobeZii subreddits for guidance. Also, if you have a Mac apparently downloading directly from Cmacked is the way to get Photoshop.

Anyway, I really can't get into all the tricks and intricacies I've learned over the years about typesetting. However, I found this AMAZING, comprehensive guide that I would strongly suggest using as a reference. They cover all of the fundamentals as well as a lot of the extras. There's even a few things in here that I wasn't aware of and will definitely be brushing up on!

I've also uploaded my font reference file to Google Docs. All the fonts show up as arial, but I've included screencaps of what they look like. These are all free fonts and can be found/downloaded if you just Google the name. Generally, Wild Words is considered the standard font in manga/doujinshi scanlations (although of course there are variants). It's what I use in all my standard text. All the rest are for sound effects, aside text, emotional text that is meant to be elevated, etc.

I would also suggest at least downloading custom heart and star shapes (or brushes) for Photoshop; there are a bunch of free ones available and those shapes tend to come up in manga speech bubbles a lot.

Oh, and make sure you make a credits page for your releases. Mine are super bare-bones (just white text on a black background for the most part) but you deserve to be credited for your labor! So does whoever translated the manga. Once you get the series up and rolling I would suggest starting to upload to Mangadex (the hub of scanlation where tens of thousands of people can see what you've made). If you need help figuring out how to do that, hit me up again when you get to that point. You'll have to create a group but it's super easy.

Am I forgetting anything else? This is such a near and dear hobby of mine and I feel like there's just so much to cover, lol. Please let me know if you have any other questions!

#typesetting #scanlation #scanlations #guide #my guides #tutorial #tutorials #resource #manga

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andysandimas · 11 months ago

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Cool Texts Font

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#cool font #cool text #font design #font finder #graphic design #free fonts #best fonts #retro fonts #vintage fonts #cute fonts #fonts #typeface #type

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commandtower-solring-go · 3 months ago

Photo

As someone who grew up in the time between Discord and Forums, I'll tell you now that they are exactly the same. Both are endless pits of information, download links, arrogant nerds, neurosis and unanswered questions. The only difference being that google doesn't link directly to unresolved discord threads.

I have since bitten the bullet and learnt how to navigate Discord, so I'm gonna give you some tips and tricks because its absolutely worth it.

1. Using Discord

Discord is a platform broken up into Servers. A Server is a group of different 'locations', typically based on a theme, called Channels. Channels are either Text Channels (which function like a Instant Messaging Board) or Voice Channels (which functions like an on-demand Zoom Call).

You access servers either by searching for them in Discord's Discovery section or by Invite Links others provide. If you've ever clicked a link to a discord, or scanned a Discord QR code, that's an Invite Link.

2. Navigating Servers

As mentioned before, Servers are broken down into Channels. These are anchored to the left side of your screen and are generally labeled and categorised. They function as your main way of communicating. Some are fancy, some are basic, but most are just Instant Messaging boards.

For example, a 'general' channel may be for off-topic conversation, while a 'rules' channel would prevent chatting but allow you to read and agree to a server's rules.

A well organised Discord server will clearly mark what Channel is for and a good moderation team will contain conversations to their relevant Channels.

But do you see what I mean? They're the same.

3. Looking for Stuff

Discord has a search feature. Its at the top right hand side of the window/app. It looks like this

This is your best friend.

When clicked, it'll open this dropdown menu

This menu is optional. If you search a keyterm in the search bar, it'll search the entire server for what you've typed. However, if you want to be more specific, you can use one of the commands listed before your text to narrow down your results.

Using it shows this. You're able to order the results by oldest-newest, newest-oldest and relevance. And by hovering over that message, you can jump directly to the message and look for follow up information.

Particularly relevant information may also be 'pinned'. These show up by clicking the little thumbtack next to the search bar.

4. Mute the Server

Right click the bubble. Go to 'Mute Server' and click 'Until I turn it back on'. No more pings.

5. "I don't want to have to join a discord server to access info"

At a certain point, I can't solve every problem. Stuff is where stuff is and if that's your hang up, then its not really about finding the information, is it?

It can be scary at first, but honestly, no one cares who you are. If its a good server, you're joining with 10k+ users. 90% are lurkers like you. No one will single you out unless you make yourself a target.

And all that to say, all of the best forums back in the day required you making yourself known in the same way. The best of the best were invite only. Nothing has changed.

6. Conclusion

There. Now you have everything you need to be the new Indiana Jones of weird Gen Z art project. Follow the rules, use the search function to look for answers, and just leave a space if its icky.

Next time, we learn how to use Github.

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aleenamacias · 2 months ago

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Enhanced Visual Charm

Among one of the most usual usages for Small font Electrical generators is to create visually distinct message for social media systems. Instagram bios, Twitter messages, and TikTok captions can all benefit from styled message to catch the viewers's interest.

#small font

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rbtomeat · 9 months ago

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SETTING UP A TAGGING SYSTEM.

probably the biggest thing is having a good, easy set of tags on this site honestly 😭 id keep them probably as simple as you can as youre starting out, just to make things easy and to decrease the likelihood of tumblr breaking them later on ( if you were to include things like fancy text or symbols, etc )

typically, people use the following Terms for their tags :

visage, mirror, vanity, face, etc : to use for visual representations & faceclaims of the character! style, closet, fashion, etc : if you'd like to post about what they'd wear! aesthetics : general photos / gifsets / etc that you feel fits sonnys vibes!! :D musings / study : for all the fun, angsty, silly, loving types of posts that you think fit his personality! his behaviors! all that fun stuff! anything you feel falls under your vision for his portrayal <3 answered / thread : for any in-character writing / replies between you & a writing partner! typically from things sent in thru the inbox for answered, and then back-and-forth writing for threads. drabble / headcanon : a post where you just go in and YAP about them! can be about anything, however long or short dont matter! its just all those sweet lil tidbits about sonny you wanna share with everyone! :D ooc : a tag for yourself when you're posting something out of character or replying to something ooc! like how mine is [ renee - the yappening. ] !! queue : dont need a tag for this right away but, you could down the line set up a queue system to auto-post things for you when youre away from the screen!

and there several others that can eventually be added down the line, such as relation tags for writing partners' muses once dynamics get really developed! ^_^

TAG FORMATTING.

i'd very heavily suggest keeping the tag format you choose to go with simple & easy to remember & type out! at least until you're more used to the tag system on tumby and are ready for them to potentially break if they get too complicated!

so! you can keep them strictly to just those terms directly - though that means ofc your posts would pop up in those tags across tumblr overall i fear.

so you could try simply layouts like:

( aes. ) / sonny w. | sonny w. / aes. | * ( aesthetics. )

things like that, just as some examples! and interchange the terms as you make them ( ie switching out aesthetic with musings, then with visage, etcetc! ).

i would refrain, personally, from writing out his full name in the tags ONLY because that could make your posts more visible to general fandom searches. i have alot of ( unfortunate ) experience on that end when i talk about luda mae & thomas hewitt. so, i would try to keep them basic and easy for you to remember & type out in the just case tumblr hiccups at all and messes them up if you were to add anything fancy to them! (:

but you can still mess around layout-wise for your tags if you wanna try making them a little more creative! ^_^ just if you DO use fancy text, i'd advice keeping the rp terms as normal text if anything bc tumblr tags dont recognize fancy text as actual text and it wont properly save them!

SETTING UP TAGS POSTS :

once you ave an idea of how you wanna format your tags, its time to make a post to list them all in & publish so tumby will save them!

so you can set up your tags within a new post itself like the below, that way you just have to copy/paste them into the tag bubbles on the bottom! (: using the below format as an example.

and then just one by one copy-paste into the bubble, press Enter,

and after Enter, the bubbles will look like the below when youre good to paste the next one!

till you've got them all separate and in each bubble like below! tumblr will Only Save up to 20 i believe in a single post! so any tags above 20 would have to go into a new tag dump post! (:

once theyre all set, checked over for any mistakes/etc ( highly recommend jic theres any bc you Can Not fix or edit them once theyre published! ), you would click Post ( blue button on bottom left ofc ) and your tag dump will look like the below when published! :D

and from there when you want to tag a new post / reblog with a specific tag, once the tags are saved as the post is published ( may take a bit of time to register & need a page Refresh too most likely! ) then once you start typing it into the tag bubble on new posts or reblogs, it'll pop up as the first suggested tag like the Aesthetics one in the second cap below does! (:

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leafy-m · 2 years ago

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I ran out of room in the original post, so here is the complete discussion and side-by-side comparison with photos for chapter 10! There's a lot going on in this one, get ready.

CHAPTER 10: pg 144

Japanese: 柳葡萄酒と合わせるのさ!

Fan translated: You gotta pair it with willow wine!

English version: I wanna slice 'em up and add 'em to some willowgrape!

There's a lot going on with this page, and chapter in general. Olruggio is clearly holding a large bottle of wine with the 'willowgrape' tree illustration in the background in that top panel, but the word "wine" never appears in the English version. This is especially noticeable because the very next panel has Olruggio clearly saying that this drink isn't for kids, and Qifrey laughing about 'ah, so that's why he sat patiently through the lesson.' The word cocktail is used occasionally instead, but since they can be non-alcoholic, it still makes the wording vague.

This page also features yet another name omission, this time Olruggio saying Qifrey's name as he mimics Qifrey's pose and phrase from chapter one: "大人の愉しみはこれからだぜキーフリー!" / "The adults' fun starts now, Qifrey!" / "But now they're asleep, you and I can have some fun of our own!"

CHAPTER 10: pg 145

Japanese: その名も酒水滴! // 酒の酸化を防いでいつでも飲み頃を保ってくれる

Fan translated: I call it the Liquordrop Buoy! // It protects the alcohol from oxidation, and it's preserved for when you want to drink it.

English version: I call it the Spirits Bubble. // …It'll keep whatever's inside at peak flavor. No more worryin' about a good drink goin' off.

This contraption Olruggio modified is specifically for alcohol and to keep it from oxidizing, and yet the English version has the wording vague enough that it just as equally could be used for any kind of drink. Stop your carbonated soda from going flat, maybe? The contraption's name does invoke the alcoholic intention but uses the far more obscure "spirits" label.

CHAPTER 10: pg 147

Japanese: 七色檸檬と山リンゴの　混成　柳葡萄酒

Fan translated: Seven-Colored Lemon and Mountain Apple Willow Wine Sangria

English version: Willowgrape Cocktail with Prism Lemon and Mountain Apple

Here we see Olruggio's completed drink, with it's name on the banner and around the fancy bottle. Again, the word "wine" is missing from the English version and for those playing at home, the kanji to keep an eye on is this one: 酒 (it'll be important for the next page!)

CHAPTER 10: pg 148

Japanese: 杯の輪. 酒を注ぐと空中に溜まる廚法の器. 注いだ分だけ長く伸び飲み干すまで手放せないため酒飲みバカの杯, 酒つららなどとも言われる.

Fan translated: Wine Glass Ring. Alcohol poured into this magic vessel will accumulate in mid-air. It grows longer when you pour into it, and you can't let it go until you've finished the drink. It's also called the Drunkard's Icicle.

English version: Loop Chalice. A drinking vessel contraption. Beverages poured through one side of the loop hang suspended in air on the other. The suspension grows longer as more liquid is poured in, giving rise to its nickname, "the drinkcicle." Though delightful, the chalice has one glaring drawback: it cannot be set back down until emptied.

Important things to note here: 1) the contraption literally has a carving of willowgrapes on it. (because it's for wine!) 2) Did you spy 酒 in the Japanese text version? Good job! Because this contraption is literally for alcohol. 3) The nickname for this contraption is the Drunkard's Icicle because you have to finish the drink before you can set it down, but the English version gave it the more generic nickname of "The Drinkcicle" along with the nondescript "Loop Chalice" name. (which isn't that far from the direct translation of goblet ring, but 'chalice' has ritualistic/symbolic vibes where again, this is just a cool cup for drunks.)

But this matters because in a later volume's chapter involving making parfaits with the girls, Olruggio uses these goblet circlets to show off the layered ingredients and the girls are surprised because they've never seen this contraption before. (and why would they? It's for alcohol!) But these sort of little changes affect the logistics of the story and make it less cohesive. It is also just bizarre for the English translation to go this far in minimizing the alcoholic nature of these devices and this chapter, for a manga that is about adults cooking at midnight. Especially when they keep the panel early in the chapter specifically saying that this recipe is not for kids. Again: Why the mixed messaging?

Anyway, I'm skipping the pages with Qifrey's mountain apple poached in willowgrape wine recipe, because it's all more of the same, but rest assured that just like the others, those pages also omit any mention of wine.

CHAPTER 10: pg 152

Japanese: お前がそう言うんならそうなんだろうな

Fan translation: If you're the one saying so, then it must be true.

English version: All right. I'll take your word for it.

The context for this panel is that Qifrey's meal—because it was simmered in willowgrape wine, made the apples look red, which is poisonous. When Olruggio questions this, Qifrey quickly reassures him that it's fine and it's just the coloring from the wine. Which leads to Olruggio thinking about it and then saying… this.

This panel scrambles my insides. The fact that this chapter originally released the same month as the main series' infamous Chapter 40, makes me scream. Look at Olruggio's absolute trust in Qifrey! I'm dying. I am slamming my hands on the table, this is the epitome of Orufrey and their heartbreaking dynamic (what does Qifrey's reaction on the next page even mean to people who don't have the context?? It's not like Qifrey looks happy, his expression is like a blue screen of death), and the English version translates it as "All right. I'll take your word for it."

"I'll take your word for it."

As a translation of something meaningful and kinda poetic, it sucks. As a sentence trying to fit the mood of the illustration, it sucks. In terms of accuracy and artistry and being faithful to the original version, it sucks. (As an Orufrey fan, it really sucks.)

I don't even know what else to say. What a way to end this volume.

But wait! There's more!

As a final gift, the end of the book includes ingredient substitutions for the fantastical recipes. Which means that for Chapter 10's Bottled Willowgrape (wine), the real-world replacement is listed as… "red grape juice, for an all-ages, morning-friendly drink."

…..

💀🔪

Anyway, thanks for reading! Now that this is done, I can properly modify my book and cover these terrible lines with something better.

Image credits: Japanese scans are from Comic-Days.com, the fan scanlations are thanks to BrimHats/Nyaruhodou, and the English version photos are from my personal copy.

(Also because apparently the og post won't reflect edits because I reblogged this prior version (??), the missing kanji from Chapter 2 is "魔法器", thank you AskeFinns for being able to read what my eyes couldn't. 💝)

(Update #2: Some additional insight into the Japanese phrase in Chapter 1: pg 14, thanks to Farlynthordens! which is now in the og post but since it's not visible in THIS reblog, will be added here:

二人共: (the) two of you [the "tomo" implies the narrator is talking "to" them rather than "about" them] futari-tomo means in a literal sense "(you) two people who are together", but in terms of actual usage/definition it's just identifying a specific pair of people who the speaker is talking to. 今日も一日お疲れ様でした: the rest of this can't really be separated. this whole phrase is meant to be like "good work for all the things you did over the course of this whole day". the fan translation seems to have not understood that the two text blocks were meant to be all one sentence. so if you put this all together, it's like "Good work for everything today, guys!"

Thank you for the clarity! Knowing this I'll still keep it as part of the list, because it does omit addressing the two of them in the English version which follows that trend of minimizing these moments between them. But it's great to understand it better, thank you! 💝)

Because I'm autistic and because I love Witch Hat Atelier Kitchen, I page-by-page compared the recent Kodansha USA English release of volume 1 to its Japanese and fan-translated counterparts.

If you've read the official English translation, you may have noticed that some of the big Orufrey moments are.... a bit underwhelming, word-wise. You may have even noticed that the word "wine" is suspiciously missing from the final chapter's WillowGrape Wine recipe, in which wine is kind of an important and obvious factor in it! And you would be correct!

While most of this manga volume is pretty accurate to the original text, there is absolutely a concentrated effort to tone down the more tender Orufrey moments, as well as minimize the alcoholic nature of the final chapter's recipe and related contraptions.

And that's frustrating!

The entire draw of this manga spin-off is seeing these gay witch dads take care of each other and their four daughters in an idyllic countryside setting while also making yummy food that you the reader can try make too. Why is Kodansha USA trying to no-homo these gays?? (Is this a reflection of how bad things are in the USA now?) And while you might say, "But Jade! Qifrey and Olruggio are not actually dating in canon!" — and I would agree with you! But there is nothing straight about these mens' behavior in this comic, and if Qifrey is going to look in Olruggio's direction while tenderly saying his name in Nearly Every Chapter, I expect to read that in English, dammit!

So I'm activating my autism trap card and presenting ya'll with a thorough comparison of every mistranslated and omitted Orufrey or wine moment, complete with discussion and screenshots from the Japanese, fan-translated, and USA English versions. This post is ridiculously long and maxed Tumblr's 30-image limit so chapter 10's discussion is actually in a reblog (sob sob), so I'm putting it all under a cut (you're welcome), and you can be sure that I'll be doing this again if need be for the translated volumes releasing next year.

For now? Let's go.

CHAPTER 1: pg 10

Japanese: フフ... Fan translated: Heh heh English version: Ahh...

This is a small moment, but it's important because it's foreshadowing. Qifrey is "airing out" the kitchen, but what he's really doing is sending those delicious smells into Olruggio's room. He's trying to lure him into the kitchen! And that little フフ/heh heh panel is evidence that he's up to something. If you've noticed in the main series, whenever Qifrey is doing something shady or it has a double-meaning, the 'camera angle' focuses on this side of his face with the dark lens.

But the English version obfuscates this by changing フフ to "Ahh..." like, 'isn't that better,' even though it keeps the ellipsis thought bubble indicating that something is up. Why the mixed messaging?

CHAPTER 1: pg 13

Japanese: オルーギオ! Fan translated: Orugio! English version: Excellent!

This is the first of many moments where Qifrey will directly say Olruggio's name, and yet the English version will translate it to something else, or drop it entirely. And no, "there wasn't enough room" is not a valid excuse for most of these. Especially when Olruggio's name can (and often is) shortened to Olly.

Look at Olruggio's little smirk at making Qifrey beam happily like that. My God. Kodansha USA/translator Stephen Kohler, why would you take this from us.

CHAPTER 1: pg 14

Japanese: 二人共今日も一日　お疲れ様でした! Fan translated: These two people are together tonight. Another day's work well done, you two! English version: Here's to another long day... ...and a well-earned break!

The omnipresent narrator from the beginning of the chapter is back, and clearly highlighting that 'these two people' are together tonight. And yet the English version removes all that. It may be redundant since we can see they're together in the illustration, but the whole page has that type of text redundancy, like focusing on 'eating that first bite,' or how 'a laugh bubbles up' with Qifrey. And combined with all of the other later omissions, this becomes an obvious trend of targeting these specific types of moments.

CHAPTER 2: pg 28

Japanese:　料理も❓抾❓も相手のことを一番に考えるのは　君の美德だね　半分ずつだオルーギオ (sorry, I couldn't read those kanji) Fan translated: Whether you're cooking or performing magic, you always think of others before yourself. It just goes to show your good character. We'll share it, Olruggio. English version: I've always admired that about you. Whether in your work of in the kitchen... ...You always think of others' needs before your own. All right. Let's split it, then.

The English version has two mistranslations here. I'll start at the top. In it, Qifrey is observing how Olruggio puts others first, and then compliments how it shows his good character. The 'good character' bit is changed to "I've always admired that about you," which at first I thought was sweet! Points for Kohler. But now that I really look at it, there is still some shady translating happening here.

In writing and communicating, what is said last has the most importance. This is how people "bury the lede," by hiding important information in the early part of a speech or amid other sentences, and then distracting them with other stuff.

In that English version top panel, even though Qifrey is complimenting Olruggio, by having it be said first it makes the second speech bubble (and therefore Olruggio's flustered response) be about Qifrey remarking on Olruggio's own behavior, rather than Qifrey's nice compliment about his character. Which changes the meaning of what's going on here. Olly is not flustering because he puts others first, he's flustering because Qifrey is saying something really nice about him, right to his face!

And then of course, in the bottom panel, Qifrey saying Olruggio's name is once again removed.

And I have to say, this bothers me not just because of autistic AcCUraCY! needs, but because he is very specifically saying his name. They are the only people in the room, it's very clear who Qifrey is addressing, and yet here he is once again, putting that man's name in his mouth. It is intentional. It is heartfelt. STOP REMOVING IT!

CHAPTER 3: pg 36 and 37

Japanese: (Olruggio): キーフリーそれいらないならこっちに..してくれ (Qifrey): オルーギオ　ひとつおねがい! Fan translated: (Olruggio): Qifrey, if you won't be needing those, send them my way. (Qifrey): One pot please, Olruggio! English version: (Olruggio): Mind if I grab those breadcrumbs from ya? I'm gonna use 'em as a binder for the patties. (Qifrey): Could you bring that pot over here for me?

This is a sweet segment because it shows how well Qifrey and Olruggio work in tandem in the kitchen. As someone who has repeatedly failed at working harmonically with others while making food, them being in sync in the kitchen is more fantastical than the actual magic.

And once again, Olruggio and Qifrey saying each other's names are removed. The Olruggio panel translation is also a bit misleading because (as you can see in the larger fan-translated photo), it's Qifrey who is controlling that wind spell! Olruggio is not "grabbing" the breadcrumbs from him, it's Qifrey who is sending them to him. It also lends to the back-and-forth of these moments because as soon as Olly's done with that pot, he gives it to Qifrey to use.

CHAPTER 3: pg 41

Japanese: ありがとうオルーギオ　行ってきます Fan translated: Thank you, Olruggio. We'll see you later. English version: Thank you, my friend. We'll be on our way now.

We're now at the part of the manga where Qifrey saying Olruggio's name is changed to "my friend" in the English version. Which is a phrase I'll admit I have some Daevabad baggage with, so idk, is this some platonic ray-beaming or is it code for tender feelings for that person you like but aren't ready to date yet because of trauma and societal complications? Is Stephen Kohler a Daevabad fan? So many unknowns. Still counting it as a wrong though.

CHAPTER 4: pg 56

Japanese: (Olruggio): ま... 眩しくて眠れやしない (Qifrey): がんばれ! オルーギオ Fan translated: (Olruggio): Really... I can't sleep with all this shimmering... (Qifrey): Do your best! Olruggio. English version: (Olruggio): Hmph. How's a man supposed to get some sleep with this thing sparklin' away over here? (Qifrey): Keep at it... ...my friend.

Qifrey literally made a bouquet of rose-shaped tarts for Olruggio to cheer up his room, so of course the English translation needs to tamp down that gayness by unnecessarily bringing up Olruggio's manhood when he complains about not being able to sleep from the tarts' sparkling. Even though this chapter's cover image is of Olruggio sitting in a field of flowers, pondering quietly as he holds one in his hand. Maybe later chapters will have Olruggio edited so he's sitting 5 feet away from Qifrey.

And again, Qifrey saying Olruggio's name in the bottom panel is changed to "my friend" in the English version.

CHAPTER 6: pg 95

Japanese: いい出来だろ? 家事の分担が大変だなんて思ってたらこんなものは作れねえぜ Fan translated: Turned out pretty good, right? If I really thought sharing the housework was a pain, then I couldn't make something like this. English version: Whaddya think? Not bad, huh? Sorry for leavin' you stuck with all the chores these last few days. I figure this is the least I can do.

Of all the mistranslations, this one bothers me the most. Olruggio is a wonderful malewife! He is constantly trying to help Qifrey out with the Atelier chores, in Kitchen and the main series. And yet the English translation changes the entire context of what these panels are saying.

The right panel is Olruggio proud of how good the soup tastes (it's even in a fancy bread bowl!), and yet the English translation downplays it by saying, 'Not bad, huh?'

Then the left panel, with it's sparkly background and close-up on Olly's face, goes further into how if he thought helping out with the housework was a pain, he wouldn't be capable of making stuff like this. Which is an understated way of saying that Qifrey can rely on him for things like this. (and he says it more outright in other chapters/the main series) But instead the English version is treating this soup like it's an apology for not helping out more. It's also really stupid because Olruggio was not making the soup as 'the least he could do' for Qifrey — he made it because he was hungry and wanted to eat it now! He literally admits this a few pages back!

Olruggio is not someone trying to do the bare minimum, he's someone trying to tell his control-freak of a friend that he wants to share in helping out. And the English version disappointingly misrepresents that here.

CHAPTER 10! Has several issues both Orufrey and wine related, and has several comparison segments. But because I maxed out Tumblr's 30-image limit, I can't include it here and so have to post it in a reblog. UGH. 😔 I'll post the link here in a moment.

In the meantime, image credits! The Japanese scans are from Comic-Days.com, the fan scanlations are thanks to Don't Quit Your Day Job, Robot Garden Scans, Brimhats/Nyaruhodou, and Kirbypoyopoyo, and the English version photos are from my own copy.

If chapters weren't mentioned, it's because I didn't notice anything significant enough to comment on. But if you know of something I missed, do let me know! And thanks for reading this far.

#Witch Hat Atelier #Witch Hat Kitchen #Witch Hat Atelier Kitchen #Olruggio #Qifrey #Jade talks WHA #my posts #Orufrey #I really want to know why these choices were made. Who decided this?#Kodansha USA

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