#Going over and over again to make each color perfect each effect perfect

[anyoldfandom]

The worst part of character design is going "Okay I'm going to give a character a simple design" and then you draw one aspect really detailed and go fuck. I have to do this with the rest too.

[adore-laur]

in one of your pieces it’s briefly mentioned that the first time they had sex after she gives birth it was really uncomfortable and not good and i was wondering if you’d ever write that ? i love the idea of sex not always being perfect especially after going weeks without it

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT

——

There was a sexual suggestiveness about the toothpick poking from Harry's mouth, and its effect on you could only be attributed to your severe case of sleep deprivation. It was a stupid piece of wood, and yet how it was framed between his plush lips sent prickles of heat surging down your neck and spine. On second thought, perhaps it was the apron tied around his waist as he dipped ripe strawberries in melted chocolate for a Valentine's Day dessert—his long fingers working with skillful precision, the sleeves of his tight long-sleeve shirt rolled up, the romantic gesture of it all. No, maybe it was the baby sling wrapped around his shoulder that held your four-month-old daughter, who was watching his every move. God, and the way he was murmuring to her each step of what he was doing definitely contributed to your rising libido. It was a sight you were still getting used to. More remarkably, it validated your years-long yearning to have children with him.

If humble swagger existed, it came in the form of how Harry carried himself as a father. The casual way he interacted with your baby was as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Walking around the house with her on his hip, going about his daily routine. Always willing to step in to give you a moment to relax. He was dependable, and you cursed your hormones for reacting so rabidly to it.

Maybe the changes your mind and body had gone through were catching up. After months, you finally felt healed from the physical wounds of giving birth. No more stitches or soreness down below. No more bleeding.

Your desire for sex was... almost normal again. You were being a bit sheepish about initiating anything, so you sincerely hoped the hunger in your eyes was communicating to Harry what you couldn't say verbally. The problem, however, was that Harry was too enamored with your little girl to notice your longing gaze. She was the center of his universe now, and you couldn't blame him for orbiting her radiance. She brought a certain euphoria to each day.

You rested your chin on the back of the couch where you observed them and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. It was quiet moments like these, where baby cries paused, that warmed your soul. You took time to appreciate the beauty of home, with its familiar waves and friendly birds. The creak of the floorboards and the color of the walls. The rumble of your husband's voice and his gentle presence. And most lovely of all, the adorable coos coming from the life you created.

Your eyes shifted over to the kitchen table, where a tall glass vase with flowers sat. You had woken up this morning to Harry helping your daughter hold a pretty bouquet of peonies to present to you. It came with a note that read, You make our hearts bloom. We love you.

Life was chaotic lately, yet so very blissful.

Harry was humming now as he threw the toothpick away and set the dipped strawberries in the fridge to harden. The plump red flesh encased in delectable chocolate made your mouth water. Such a simple recipe, yet somehow Harry made them taste better than a gourmet baker ever could.

He shut the fridge and moved to the sink to wash his hands. He must have sensed your gaze because he looked over his shoulder and smiled. Just the sight of him in this new role caused a swell of emotion to crash against your chest and crack your heart open.

"I've got an audience," he remarked.

You just stared at his hands supporting your daughter's small body—beautiful, sculpted, and what you had been missing desperately on your skin. It was embarrassing to admit that ever since giving birth, the closest you and Harry had gotten to any sexual intimacy was dry humping. Even then, your stitches had still been healing, so the experience was never quite satisfactory. It was no surprise that you were growing impatient.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing your strange silence.

"Nothing," you murmured, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckled and leisurely walked over to you. "You're blushing."

Your palms flew to your cheeks. "I am?"

"Big time. Are you feeling okay?"

"I... yes, I'm just"—you fanned your overheated face—"feeling a lot of things right now."

His brows scrunched together. Men were so lucky not to experience the rollercoaster of female hormones. You would sound asinine if you attempted to explain why your body was responding to him doing nothing but being a good father.

"I'm stressing you out," Harry stated as a guess.

"Not at all."

"You're having a hot flash?” he guessed again.

“No.”

“Uh… you caught a fever?”

Groaning, you dropped your head face-first onto the couch and mumbled, "I need sex."

"Say it again, please?"

You lifted your head and avoided eye contact as you repeated, "I need sex. I'm healed, and I want to take advantage of this urge before it goes away." Because it would. Your hormones were still regularizing post-birth, so you weren't going to count on getting your libido back to complete normalcy. Instead, you would pounce on every open opportunity.

Harry contemplated your confession for a while, making no show of judgment. "Any blood?" he asked.

"Nope."

"And the stitches?"

"They're dissolved. Can't even tell I pushed a nearly ten-pound baby out."

He smiled, albeit cautiously. "But how do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Harry," you assured. "If you're not feeling it, we don't have to do anything. Just, you know, giving you the green light."

A shadow of sincerity passed over his face. "Who said I'm not feeling it?" You shrugged, and he gently grabbed your chin to raise it. "Look at me." His green eyes held your gaze steadily. "You wanna try?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "I miss you."

"You have me," he said resolutely. "All of me, tonight."

"Oh," you said, not expecting him to jump on board so eagerly.

"Let's shoot for eight o'clock. When the little one goes to bed."

You broke out into a giggle. "So... a sex appointment."

Now it was his turn to blush. "I heard scheduling sex is supposed to help new parents reconnect."

A rush of heat spread to the tips of your fingers. You thought of the multiple instances when you and Harry consolidated spontaneity and sex. It often sprung upon you without warning, like a carnal beast clawing at your skin. And it always involved mutual desire, like a burning ball of tension the size of the sun. The house was memory-stained with reminders of all the ways your body had been worshiped. Over by the kitchen island, Harry had held you captive with his hips pressed flush against yours. The bay window in the living room had sometimes been blemished with handprints. But the bed in which you sleep and wake up to him every morning was where long, intense sessions happened. Harry slowly sliding into you during weekend sleep-ins, providing a warmth and fullness so heavenly. Late-night quickies after being away from each other all day, a little messy yet perfect all the same. Hell, you had even done it in the ocean under the moon. You wanted nothing more than to find that natural groove again.

"Okay." You reached out to squeeze his bicep. "I believe you."

"All right," he replied in the deep, sensual tone he reserved for intimate conversations like these. You looked downward, feeling giddy. Within milliseconds, Harry planted a hot, heavy kiss on your lips before walking away.

With the way your heart fluttered, one would think you had just met him. But you knew his body exclusively, as he knew yours, and tonight would be a test.

——

You stood in the doorway of your closet, sifting through the three pairs of lingerie you owned. They were lacy little one-pieces in off-white, powder blue, and red. It was doubtful they would fit like they used to, but you craved wearing something other than baggy sweats and Harry's shirts. While it gave you pride that you grew life, an insecurity still planted its pesky seed inside. You hadn't looked at your bare body in the mirror since, honestly, you didn't have a clue. It would never look the same again, especially considering you didn't plan to only have one child.

There was a nervous tremor in your hands as you took the red lingerie off its hanger—a slimming color to hide the loose, extra skin that still remained postpartum. You thought about Harry and how he liked to strip away every last piece of fabric blocking him from his touch. Even before pregnancy, during sex, you had never felt the need to accentuate your physicality with frilly, feminine garments. Harry took you in just about anything. Unfortunately, as new parents, there was simply not enough time or energy to initiate anything more than mediocre makeouts. You felt foolish for even bringing up the prospect of sex earlier. Now there was an expectation, and you couldn't guarantee you wouldn't chicken out.

Why were you so jittery? He was your husband, for crying out loud. There was no one you felt more comfortable around.

With a huff, you started undressing yourself just as the sound of the blow dryer stopped. Harry would be ready any minute for this supposed sex appointment. Meanwhile, you were out of practice, self-conscious, and hopelessly horny—he was going to regret agreeing to this.

You tugged the lingerie on, feeling it cinch your torso and breasts. It was tight, the flimsy fabric holding on for dear life. The V-shaped cut revealed the stretch marks lining your hips. The lace was itchy and dug into your skin suffocatingly. Fuck, this was quickly turning into a self-enforced humiliation ritual.

The bathroom door slid open, and Harry emerged in just a pair of white boxers, his hair dry and fluffy. The leftover shower steam made his skin glow, as did the dim lighting. He was effortlessly handsome, while you stood there in too-tight lingerie wondering if you looked desirable enough to stimulate his sex drive. From your perspective, all signs pointed to not likely.

Harry slowly walked toward you, his eyes exploring every inch of your body, and you leaned against the wall while fidgeting with the lingerie's shoulder straps. In the silence of his appraisal, you awkwardly shuffled your feet—it was futile to fake confidence right now.

"My forever Valentine," Harry said quietly, immediately attaching his hands to your waist.

You practically whined, then muttered, "I look ridiculous."

"You're joking, right?" He bent his knees to be eye level with you, a near-crazed look on his face. "Right?"

"It barely fits, Harry."

A slow smirk stretched his lips. "That better not be the only time you say that tonight."

You glared at him for his crude joke and said, "This is silly."

"What is?"

"This whole... rendezvous."

"I think it's fun," Harry said with a carefree shrug.

"But it's different from other times," you admitted.

"How so?" He kissed your neck, his affection warm and a welcome distraction to your disoriented thoughts. He smelled ravishing, the subtle hints of his spice and black vanilla shower cleanser putting you under a spell. A pulse of appetency made you press against him.

"My body," you said.

His hands traveled to your backside, squeezing the flesh there. "This body? The one I'd get down on my knees for?"

In one fell swoop, all your internal heat returned with a rush. "It's kind of a mess," you replied. "I haven't shaved. And my stomach looks like a wrinkly prune, so there's that."

Harry traced his thumb under the lacy hem hugging your hips. "Doesn't bother me. Prunes are delicious."

Deep down, you knew he wouldn't care. He had loved every part of you through pregnancy, with all its mind-bending changes and symptoms. If he had found you sexy then, he would appreciate your appearance now. Though it would take time for you to truly believe it.

"I just want this to be good," you murmured, resting your forehead on his firm chest.

"Hey." He lifted your head and cradled it. "We'll find a way to make this work. Let's take it slow." You nodded, and he leaned closer to whisper, "I know how to get you wet. Don't think I've forgotten."

Truthfully, you were already wet, but you didn't say anything as Harry grabbed your hand and squeezed it before guiding you to the bed. While he had been taking a shower, you had fluffed the pillows and straightened the sheets. You had even sat there and mentally filtered through what positions would be most reasonable. Sex was to be careful tonight. No need for anything crazy.

You climbed into bed, and Harry remained standing. The outline of his hardened cock pushed against his boxers. A flame ignited low in your belly—to get to have him inside you after so long was exhilarating.

When he didn't move to join you, you asked, "What are you doing?"

"Following your lead," he said. "Where do you want me?"

"Um... on your side, I guess. Next to me."

Harry didn't waste any time and got into position, his hand propping his head up. There was an expectant openness in his eyes, and you almost laughed. This was out of the ordinary, but it somehow eased your nerves.

"I want to face each other," you added. "And I... I want you to do that thing where you hold my leg up against your hip."

He hummed, his eyes flashing with something lustful. "Understood. But you're going to have to take your lingerie off."

"Right." You swallowed nervously. "I'll do that."

You stripped while Harry removed his boxers and rolled on a condom. He watched your breasts bounce free, watched the lace slide down your torso and legs. It was your armor against the reality that your body wasn't the same as the one Harry had touched for the first time. But you trusted him and his admiration for the life you brought into the world. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

You lie bare beside Harry now. His gaze turned fond, taking in all of you—no judgment, no confusion, no surprise. But why would there be? He'd been there when your pants stopped fitting during pregnancy. When you hadn't been able to shave anything below your bump. When you had needed help getting off the couch. Christ, he had seen you give birth. It didn't get much more intimate than that.

"Come here," Harry said softly. You scooted down to lie on the mattress facing him. "You're beautiful. This version of your body isn't something to dwell on. Every stretch mark, every wrinkle, every curve is a testament to your amazing ability to grow life."

You were speechless, so you just sprung forward and kissed him.

"Ready?" He smiled against your mouth, and you returned it.

"Ready."

"I'm going to go slow. Tell me if it hurts." Harry grabbed his cock, holding the tip against your entrance. Without you needing to remind him, he bent your leg to rest against his hip, opening you further. He slid himself in, only an inch or two, keeping his eyes locked on yours. It was slow, like he promised, but there was a slight burning sensation. You inhaled sharply and gripped his wrist.

"Too fast?"

You moaned, half in pleasure and half in discomfort. "No, it just... feels rough. Even with the condom on."

"Okay. I won't go further."

"Maybe go deeper and it'll stop."

"No," Harry said, pulling out. "I'm not about to risk making you bleed or delaying your healing. Absolutely not."

"But—”

"But nothing. Your body's obviously not ready yet, and that's okay."

"I'm sorry," you whispered sadly.

"Don't be," he said, stroking your hair. "You thought you were healed, but it's hard to know for sure without actually having sex."

You let out a disappointed sigh. "Well, this was a bust. Back to dry humping for the foreseeable future."

"I'm not complaining." Harry rolled onto his back, then yanked the sheets over his boner. 

"You're serious?"

He patted his lap. "Hop on, baby."

Laughing, you straddled him for yet another clumsy experience. But with his determination to make it enjoyable, it would be perfectly imperfect.

——

[allyeilishh]

Filming kink w Billie?

ᥫ᭡ RECORDING ── .✦ B.E.

pairing: Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

genre: smut - oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, strap on (r!receiving), recording

synopsis: movie-making with Billie that’s only for your eyes.

w/c: 2.6k

You were sitting down on the bed, shirt off, pants off, just in your pink, lacy bra and pink panties. Billie was dressed the same, except for the color being black. You were leaning back on your hands, watching Billie’s every move.

She was working on the tripod, positioned at the corner of the bed to catch everything. She was making sure everything was the correct height, so the camera could see the entire bed perfectly. The ring light cast a gentle glow over your body, not too bright, but bright enough to point out little details.

Finally, Billie clicked the record button, the little red light beginning to flash slowly. She adjusted herself on the bed, taking a deep breath. You knew it was just for you two, that no one else would ever see it. But just the thought of you two being on video sent a nervous wave through your body.

Billie slowly made her way to stand in front of you, placing her hands on either side of your waist, effectively trapping you against the bed. She could sense your nervousness, seeing the way your breathing shook with each inhale and exhale.

"It’s okay, baby. I’m right here with you, okay? Deep breath.” Billie whispered gently into your ear, placing a kiss on the shell.

You felt your breath hitch as the kiss, but you listened to Billie. You took a deep breath, letting yourself relax under Billie. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting Billie’s lips roam over your ear, down to your jaw. Billie gently moved you over to the middle of the bed, letting you lay your head on the pillows.

Her slight body weight on top of yours was a comforting presence, reminding you that she was right there with you, that you weren’t alone. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at the beautiful woman above you.

You both have done this countless times before, both of you knowing exactly how to give each other pleasure and knowing all the spots that would make the other twitch and gasp. You both were sure that neighbors hated you. But with a camera facing you? It felt different.

Maybe it felt like an invasion of privacy, having the camera pointed at you both. But the fact that it was only for yours and Billie’s eyes made it weirdly intimate. Something that you both could go back to, to share the pleasurable moment again.

You gently gripped onto Billie’s hair, letting out a soft moan as you felt her lips sucking at the tender skin of your neck. You could feel Billie’s lips curl into a smug smirk as you did so, giving the soft skin a gentle bite, before pulling away. She admired the marking for a moment, before averting her gaze to you, affection and adoration in her eyes.

"You’re so beautiful, my love.” Billie said softly, a quiet whisper. Her words reached a deep part of your heart, locking them in forever. Billie gently moved a lock of hair away from your face, taking in every feature she had memorized thousands of times before.

You blushed under her gaze, feeling your breathing hitch all over again. But since you were so lost in Billie’s gaze, you didn’t notice her hand going under your back, unclasping your bra. You didn’t notice until she was pulling it off of you, making you gasp softly.

She then took off hers, throwing both of your bras somewhere in the room. Her vision moved down, looking at your perfect breasts. Her hands gently roamed over the two balls of fat, cradling them gently in her hands. They jiggled with every slight movement, and a small whine left your lips.

Billie couldn’t help but smirk, knowing you were beginning to get antsy. She could never hold herself back from you. Her lips quickly latched onto your left nipple, sucking and lapping out the sensitive bud. Her other hand was still on your other breast, gently twisting your nipple between her pointer and thumb.

You couldn’t help but let out a small moan, arching your back ever so slightly. You placed a hand on Billie’s back, holding her body close to yours. Your other hand stayed in her hair, gently scratching her scalp.

Once your nipple was all hard and covered in saliva, Billie moved to your other breast, doing the exact same thing. You let out a small whine, gripping onto her hair tighter. Your breasts have always been sensitive, and Billie always took advantage of it whenever she could.

Her hands began to roam all over your torso, gently rubbing your sides and moving along your stomach. She gently squeezed the small pudge, before leaning down and showering your torso in kisses and love. Like she was worshipping your body.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, seeing her treat your body like it was a gift. You gently moved some hair away from her face, watching her as she gently kissed your soft, plump skin over and over again.

Eventually, she went down lower, positioning herself between your legs. She hooked her thumb under the waistband of your panties, but she paused for a second, looking up at your face. Making sure you were completely and utterly comfortable with this.

You gave her a small smile, signaling that you were okay with her actions. She smiled back at you, before pulling down your panties, and throwing them off with your bras.

She had to sit there for a moment, admiring you. Your legs propped open by her hands on your thighs. Your pussy was already dripping , slowly making its way onto the sheets. Fluttering softly, like you were trying to clench around nothing.

“You’re gorgeous.” Billie whispered softly, gently placing your thighs on her shoulders so she could get a better angle. You let out a soft, needy whimper, needing her mouth on you already. You gently tugged at her hair to bring her closer, eyes pleading.

Billie could help but smirk at your neediness. So desperate for her tongue. "Needy, now are we?” She teased, watching as you squirmed under her touch. She was so close, yet so far. Her breathing was tickling your clit, and it was driving you insane.

"Billie, please…” you said as a breathy whisper, your legs spreading just a bit wider. Just to show yourself off more, maybe to lure her in.

And it worked. Because after all your whining, she dived in. She gave your aching pussy a long, striped lick, tasting every single bit of you on her tongue. She could taste you on every taste bud. She couldn’t help but let out a low moan at the taste, bringing in your hips closer to her mouth.

Her lips quickly attached to your clit, flicking her tongue over the sensitive bud that had you gasping for air. She held onto your thighs, making sure you wouldn’t squirm around. You were gripping onto her hair, back arching off the bed slightly. "Fuck—Billie…”

You were letting out strings of moans and whines, trying to buck your hips up into her mouth. But her firm grip kept your hips on the bed, pinning you down. Your face was scrunching up in pleasure, and your eyes were locked onto Billie’s.

Her eyes were filled with a desire—a desire to make you fall apart, to make you all mushy inside until you could only remember her name. But there was also something under that desire. It was just pure affection and love.

Before you knew it, you felt Billie’s warm fingers gently teasing at your hole, making you squirm and whine under her touch. She sped up her tongue on your clit, using it as a distraction to gently push in two of her fingers.

You let out a long string of moans and whines mixed together as your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut from the new feeling. She let you get used to her fingers stretching you, before beginning to gently curl them inside of you. And simultaneously beginning to pump in and out of your wet hole. You swallowed them greedily, tightening around her digits. "Look at you, baby, so greedy…”

Before you knew it, soft, wet sounds were coming from your pussy, Billie’s fingers digging deep inside you, only making you wetter. You couldn’t help but whine, feeling your orgasm beginning its approach.

"Such a good girl… taking my fingers so well.” Billie murmured against your clit, the vibrations of her voice sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You twitched under her touch, feeling her fingers begin to speed up inside you. The curling mixed with the speed felt like you were floating.

"Can you come for me, baby? Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart.” Billie whispered soothingly, her tongue working overtime on your puffy clit. You gripped onto her hair tighter, your thighs beginning to clamp around her head. But she didn’t mind.

And you listened to her. Within a few more moments, you were writhing under her touch, your orgasm hitting you hard. Billie’s name falling out of your lips with each breath you took. You spasmed for a moment, before your body went lax. You were breathing heavily, your hair sticking to your forehead, but you couldn’t have felt any better than you did now.

You were just sent to heaven, and now, you were gently being pulled back down by Billie’s soothing hands, letting you ride out your high. Her fingers slowed down as her mouth pulled away from your clit, before pulling them out completely.

She leaned over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. She couldn’t help but smirk, seeing that she had done this to you. That she had made you feel this good. She gently opened your mouth, speaking softly. "Can you suck on my fingers, baby? Tell me how good you taste.”

You felt another wave of arousal go over your body, letting out a small whine as you took her fingers into your mouth. They were slick and salty, but you didn’t dare let go. Billie slowly pumped her fingers in your mouth, letting you swallow every single bit of your cum. She almost moaned at the sight. Your big, doe eyes looking right at her, sucking on her fingers.

She slowly pulled her fingers out of your mouth, before rummaging around in the bedside table. When she finally found what she was looking for, she smirked, before crawling back over to you, where you were still trying to figure out what day it was.

Billie hooked the strap around her hips, the harness fitting perfectly against her skin. She looked down at you, who was now flushed at the sight of the pink strap. Your hands gently gripping onto the sheets below you, another wave of neediness going over you.

The dildo was a good 9 inches, faux veins covering the shaft to make it look more realistic. And it had a good girth on it, as well. It was one you had yet to try with Billie.

Billie gently spread your legs open once again, her hands going on either side of your head, looking down at you with such softness in her gaze. "You okay with this, baby?”

You looked up at her with wide eyes, but yet filled with trust and love. You nodded your head, giving the woman a soft smile. You gently grabbed onto her shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

She smiled right back at you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. She then lifted your legs, placing your ankles on her shoulders. She made sure you were comfortable and didn’t feel uneasy. She gently rubbed the tip against your clit, watching as you squirmed under her, trying to move your hips up to meet hers.

You were so needy—so desperate to feel her so deep inside you. Billie gently shushed you, rubbing your thigh softly. And with a small smack, she gently pushed her cock into your tight hole, slowly.

She moaned at the sight, your greedy pussy taking her and swallowing her whole. You whined as you felt her cock slowly go deeper and deeper, getting so close to the sweet spot. But before she could reach it, she slowly began to pull out. Not all the way, but enough to make you feel empty again.

Not to tease you, but so she didn’t hurt you. She gently squeezed the jiggly skin of your thighs, kissing your ankles softly. She began to slowly rut her hips into yours, making sure you were okay and she was making you feel good.

Your eyes began to roll to the back of your head as her cock slowly got deeper with each thrust, whines and moans spilling from your lips out of your control. You gently moved your hands to her cheeks, wanting to feel her skin against yours. "Holy—fuck, Billie… f-feels so good…”

Billie smirked, seeing you already beginning to get fucked out. She couldn’t help it. You looked so cute when you were a mess under her. She began to speed up her pace, growing in speed but still just as gentle as before. "Yeah? feel good, baby? Feel my cock so deep inside your greedy pussy? Fuck—you’re so tight…”

You whined in response—you didn’t know if it was a response to the increase in pace or to Billie’s words, but it was a response Billie took. Your hands traveled down to Billie’s neck, your nails beginning to dig into the skin as your moans grew louder and more whinier.

"It’s okay, sweetheart. S’okay. So beautiful. All f’me…” She whispered softly, like she was talking to a baby deer. She gently ran her hands over your stomach, gently pressing down to feel her cock moving in and out of you with every thrust.

Her hands pushing down on you only made you whine and moan louder, your gummy walls feeling even more of her veiny cock. You tightened around the silicone, desperately mumbling out a ball of words. "M’gonna cum… so close… Billie…!”

Billie couldn’t help but speed up, her hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with Billie’s heavy pants and your desperate moans. "Yeah? Come f’me, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

Those words sent you over the edge. And for the second time, your back arched off the bed, moaning louder as you gripped onto Billie tightly. Your body trembled beneath Billie’s, completely spent and fucked out. You closed your eyes, planning on never opening them again.

"So good, baby… you did so good.” Billie slowed down her movements, before gently pulling out, seeing your warm cum spill out of you. She couldn’t help but smile, taking off the strap and placing it back into the bedside table. She gently scooped you up into her arms, allowing your trembling body to relax against hers.

You let out a small whimper, your body sensitive from what just happened. You rested your head against Billie’s chest, quickly relaxing into her warm arms. And without much effort, you fell asleep in her warm embrace, your body slack against hers. All messy and fucked out.

Her attention went back to the camera, still pointed at you two, capturing every moment you just had together. Billie gently layed you down onto the bed, before getting up and turning off the ring light. She took the camera off the tripod, making sure to be as quiet as possible to not disturb your slumber.

Then, she pointed the camera directly at you, your naked, sleeping body looking so perfect. All for her. And behind the camera, she softly whispered;

"I love you, baby. My beautiful baby.” ⋆. 𐙚 ̊

a/n: I lowkey hate this bc it’s my first time writing smut so…. Be compassionate y’all…. 😓

[whoops-all-jennas]

Every Universe - w.a.

Wednesday x witch!reader

"Do you think we're friends in every universe?"

"I hope so."

Summary: You and Wednesday are walking to Jericho after Wednesday had her vision in the meeting house. You have a question for Wednesday which gets her stuck in thought.

Past Lives one-shot

a/n: might have somethings that don't make sense if you haven't read 'We'll Meet Again' or 'Past Lives' but most of this doesn't need that context.

My boots squish into the mud of the dirt path, the rain just stopping a moment ago. Your shoes follow the pace of mine, meeting the same muddy fate.

There is a comfortable silence between us. We never had to try to force conversation, satisfied with merely the presence of one another.

"This is a stupid thought." You begin talking over the occasional patter of water dripping off the leaves. "Do you think we're friends in every universe?"

I stop in place, my boots sinking deeper into the mud. You halt beside me, finding my eyes with yours.

"Like, maybe we're Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." You say with a smile, looking into my eyes as I respond with silence.

You look at the ground with an embarrassed smile as you continue walking. "I told you it was a stupid thought."

You walk ahead of me for a moment, the squish of muddy footsteps filling the woods.

I find myself stuck in place, as if the mud was holding me. The only thing I can think about is that red string.

I find myself smiling as you pull the lever on the blue slushie machine for me. "Tell me when." You say with a smile.

You stop before the blue ice overflows out of the cup. "I didn't say when!" I say, teasingly.

"It was going to spill over, Vada." You grab another cup, holding it under your favorite flavor before looking at me with an expecting glance.

I pull the lever, the colored ice filling the cup.

"When." You say, a playful smile creeps up on my lips as I don't let go.

"Stop!" You playful shout, pulling the cup out of the way as it overflows.

"Vada!" I can't help but giggle as you grab a bunch of napkins to clean your cup.

We're both walking down the street, the lights illuminating our dark path. I hold a grocery bag of sweets and other snacks in hand, my slushie in the other.

I glance at you as I loudly sip from my cup. You're staring at yours, lost in thought with a smile on your face.

"Do you think we get to do stuff like this is every universe?" You say quietly.

I stare at you for a moment, admiring your cute sentiment.

"Of course!" I say with a wide smile.

You raise your eyes from your cup, finding mine as you return the smile.

I'm reading your poem silently as you stand in front of me awkwardly. The warm lights of my bedroom creating the perfect cozy aesthetic.

Your poem clearly follows the idea of two souls destined to be together, no matter what.

I look at you above the paper after I've finished reading, unsure what to do or say.

"So, what do you think Cairo?" You ask, curiously.

I take a deep breath. "I'm not a big fan of the idea of soulmates."

You look at me confused. "What do you mean?"

I stand before sitting next to you in my bed. "Soulmates are destined." I say, holding my eyes onto yours.

"The idea of destined connection dilutes the experience of love." I inch closer, putting my hand on your bare thigh.

"I prefer the idea that we're together because we choose to be, our souls breaking the quantum chains that bind us apart just for a chance to feel each other's touch a moment longer."

You shiver as I caress your thigh. "The feeling of you forever lingering on my skin, itching for just one second longer, as if that would be enough to satiate my hunger."

You're eyes look through mine with infatuation, my 'fancy words' as you would call it always had this effect on you. I move my hand up to your cheek, looking into your eyes lovingly. "Our determination for just that one mere second guiding us in every universe. Even if fate defies us, we would rather die trying than to spare another moment apart."

I slowly bring my face closer to yours, feeling your unsteady breath on me as I glance at your perfect lips. "I would choose you in every universe. Not because we're destined to be, but because there is no one else I'd rather have."

You grab my face, pulling your lips to mine hungrily. Your arms move down, wrapping around my neck as you pull me down to lay on top of you. As our lips touch, I ingrain the feeling permanently into my mind.

I murmur awake to the sound of a heartbeat monitor. The pain of all my wounds from the Ghostface attack quickly settling in as I open my eyes.

I feel another sensation, the feeling of your hand in mine. After I recognize this feeling it's as if all my pain fades away.

My eyelids finally finish prying themselves apart to find you asleep by my hospital bed, hunched over in a chair. Even as you sleep, you tightly grip my hand, as if you're you're afraid you'll let go.

I find myself smiling, admiring you at my bedside. I squeeze your hand in an attempt to wake you.

You squirm a bit in your seat, your grip tight as ever.

Your eyes open, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Tara!" You jump awake, a noticable weight off you after you see my smile.

Your grip loosens for a moment before squeezing my hand once again. "I uh- How're you feeling?"

My smile widens under the mere presence of you. "Better now."

You place your other hand over mine, caressing my knuckles lovingly. "I'm not leaving this hospital unless you're leaving with me."

I find myself lost in your hands, watching your thumb gently move between my knuckles as if I could break if not handled with care. I always loved how gentle you were with me. You manage to make me feel like a beautiful flower, scared to damage my petals and stem that I only see as a part of me, but you see it as so much more.

"I hope you're there for me in every universe." I say, looking up from your gentle hands to your eyes. "I don't know how well I would have handled this on my own."

The heartbeat monitor fills the momentary silence between us, words forming in your thoughts.

"I know I'm there for you in every universe, the same way you're there for me." You look into my eyes as if they were windows, your emotions passing through with ease.

I focus on the caring sensation of your touch, allowing your love into the windows to my soul.

I look back on the vision of our past selves I had in the meeting house, feeling the red string that binds us inside me.

"Wednesday?" You ask, stopped ahead of me.

I pry my boots out of the mud, the deepest it sunk into the ground. My squishy footsteps fill the woods as I catch up to be by your side.

"I believe we're together in every universe, whether it's because we found each, or because we choose to." I say, attempting to hide the emotion that so strongly desired to be on stage.

A genuine smile replaces the embarrassment on your face before turning to continue walking, our comfortable silence resuming as we head back to Jericho.

a/n: heyy hope you enjoyed this super short thingie. I plan on making more past lives one-shots before s2 of Wednesday releases. feel free to request ideas for that :))

[mooshy333]

Oop- the men are fighting 😱 🔥

I wanted to draw Mylo and Claggor in my design thoughts and style in general, so this isn't a specific AU art or anything like that. I didn't want to copy Jayce, so I tried my best with Claggors designed hammer he would use in battle and make it more of something Claggor would have made. And as it does have Hextech from wherever (idk yet) it doesn't function like Jayce’s, it's a power hammer >:), and OMG. Mylo was so difficult at first because of his style, sneakiness, and stealth, as well as his speed. And it took a while to come up with the perfect main weapon he would use that would fit his character, that didn't match up with anyone else, like a pistol gun would have been ideal, but the fact it makes me think of Jinx so it wasn't the right one, I wanted to give him a main weapon that would make me think of him and his character alone. So eventually I came up with the idea of a whip, and I felt it was perfect for him. So he got some brass-chained whips, one for each hand. I also just had the big main fight between Jinx and Vi in my brain and wanted to see if it was flopped :) I would love to honestly see a fight scene between the two— or any of them fighting and kicking a$$. I also hope that some of y'all will get the reference of the meme I added to make it less angsty and depressing war vibes 😂

Also, personal art message: I FINALLY FOUND MY ARTSTYLE I TRULY LOVE!! for the first time in a while, I approached this drawing in a completely different way, and I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I decided to let go and enjoy the process. Let me explain: I sketch all the time in my sketchbook outside of digital, and I usually allow myself to be free with it, not worrying about how good or perfect it has to be. However, for over a year now, I've been very strict with just my digital art, especially concerning the line work. I always felt the pressure to make the lines straight and as “perfect” as possible, which turned the creative process into more of a chore than something I truly enjoyed.

Typically, I would sketch, then clean it up before moving on to another layer for the lining, repeating this a few times just to nail the details. But with this drawing, after my initial sketch, I decided to loosen up during the lining phase. Instead of trying to achieve precision, I opted for a freer approach, using a darker shade of black to outline, almost as if I were sketching again. I also realized that relying on the “bucket tool” in the app I use was not the best idea; while it’s quick, it often left me with subpar results. So, I colored everything by hand instead, finding it not only faster but also much more effective. As I colored, I layered additional colors for highlights, details, and shadows, which helped maintain my mental ease throughout the process.

In short, make sure you enjoy your work, but don’t exhaust yourself striving for perfection, as it’s ultimately unattainable. I realize it’s perfectly fine to be loose and a little messy! Whatever your style is, it is unique no matter what. 🥰

[roguelov]

Sleepless Nights (Part 2)

Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first

Word Count: ~3.8k

Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)

Warning: SMUT (unprotected sex, cream pie, riding, minor praise kink, inexperienced!Sanji)

Part 1

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

“Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”

Giggles - giddy and eager - cut into the still night air, only for muffled shushing to follow such unabound joyous noises. Footsteps padded quietly, or attempted to, across the creaky wooden ship deck.

Laughter and ruin would continue to fill the air tonight.

Just seconds ago, you and Sanji had merely tasted each other, and brought each other to pure ecstasy. Yet, it left a gaping hunger inside both of you. In a somewhat mad scramble, you hastily pulled on your sweatpants, knowing fully well they would slip right back off. You grabbed Sanji’s wrist, leading him back below deck.

To where? You weren’t entirely sure yet. Your room? His room? It didn’t matter, you just wanted him.

However, you only got a few steps before he yanked you back into his chest. He cupped your face, kissing you fervently. You hummed, delighted to be tasting the sweet wine of his lips. Your fingers carved a path down his chest. The tantalizing touches sent sparks over his wanting skin. Your hands landed at his hips. Grinning to yourself, your fingers sneakily skimmed further downward then cupped his half hard cock.

Sanji groaned against your lips. He broke the kiss, gulping down well needed air. His eyes dropped down. What were you -

You slowly rubbed him. He hissed, letting out a few curses.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly. He let out a breathy laugh and smiled up at you. His eyes - the color of the sea before a deadly storm - flickered down back to your addictive lips. “You are dangerous.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his and enjoying how his breath hitched slightly. “I know. Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no.”

Sanji kissed you again. It was loving and all consuming. He stole your breath without a second thought. Your knees felt weak under him. You instantly clung to him, he was your anchor in this raging storm of wants and hunger.

No, he was dangerous. He was brewing the perfect storm inside of you.

His lips slowly left yours. A soft whine rumbled in the back of your throat. You tried to lean back in to chase after them, to chase after such sweet nectar. Sanji smirked. He was thrilled to know he had such an effect on you. His lips trailed across your jaw then down your neck. You sighed, happily craning your head to the side. You would let him feast on you time and time again.

“Sweetheart,” he purred.

His confidence was growing, and the familiar honey rolled off his wicked tongue. He wanted to make you feel as you make him feel: weak.

He was weak for you.

So very, very weak.

How many nights had he imagined this scenario? How many nights had he touched himself to the thought of you? How many nights had you plagued his mind? He was weak like a starved man, only you gave him salvation and only you could satiate him. He wanted you writhing in pleasure after pleasure to understand a fraction of his hunger and devotion to you. What happened on the deck wasn’t enough. He wanted more, craved more.

Weak and hungry, that was what he was.

Sanji slowly kissed your neck, enjoying your soft sighs. One kiss there, one kiss here. One small nibble there. You hummed, smiling like a drunken fool. His teeth grazed along your skin, teasing where he might bite next. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Please,” he murmured, a small plea. “Let me hear you.”

He needed to know if he was doing everything right, and desperately wanted to hear all those delicious sounds fall off your lips. Sounds only he was allowed to hear. Each one was a shock to his system.

More.

He wanted to hear more, hoping to leave you completely breathless. His teeth sunk into you. He definitely wanted to mark your skin. He gently sucked on your neck and soothed any pains with his wonderful tongue.

You whimpered as his name tumbled out. You bunched up his shirt and walked backwards, trying to lead Sanji. You had to get to a room. You both were still in the middle of the deck. However, you moved only a few feet before Sanji pinned you up against the wall. His lips never left your neck. Gripping your hips, his thigh slipped between your legs. He pressed further into you, making you grind down on his thigh.

You moaned softly.

Sanji - your perfect storm - was learning. Every tease you did, he returned easily. He nibbled on your ear, whispering your name. His hand guided your hips forward, rubbing you against him again. Pleasure rushed through you. Yet, before he could repeat the action for a third time, you pushed off the wall, flipping him around. You quickly took charge, as if Sanji was truly giving you much of a fight.

He melted under your touch, like butter to a pan.

Your hands skimmed over his chest and stomach. You slipped your hands under his shirt. He hummed, arching his back slightly. You traced over his muscles. The cook was surprisingly toned, or you supposed it was obvious given his size despite the suits he typically wore.

Your nails scraped down, making him gasp. You smirked. As his lips parted in that sweet small gasp, you dove in, slipping your tongue inside his mouth. Sanji groaned as he put all his support into the wall. Blood rushed past his ears. But, it could not drown out the delightful sounds of your lips against his, of your tongue swirling around and tasting every part of him.

You truly made him weak.

Distracted by your mouth, one of your hands reached down again. This time, however, you grinded the palm against his painful bulge. Sanji’s eyes widened and he moaned loudly. Yet, you swallowed up each of his needy sounds. You did it again, and Sanji’s hips bucked into your touch.

God, you were torturous.

The sweetest kind.

Pulling away, Sanji was panting. You grinded your palm into him, just to hear his sweet moan without restraint. And he didn’t disappoint. God, it was beautiful. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and a dizzying fluttering in your stomach.

Biting your lip, you grabbed his waist and dragged him with you. It wasn’t elegant. You both clumsily stumbled around unable to keep your hands, or lips, off of each other. Your back soon smacked into a door. You blindly reached for the knob, and bumped it open. You unknowingly tumbled backwards into the kitchen, and Sanji blindly chased after you. Your back hit the counter as he trapped you in place. His lips once again happily kissing your neck. This wasn’t the place you initially wanted to be in, but it could work. Besides, neither of you could wait much longer.

You cupped his face to look at you. You asked, softly, “Here?”

He glanced around the empty kitchen. Perfect. To be honest, he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Where?” He whispered, excitedly.

“The bench.”

You gently pushed on his chest, leading him backwards to the ‘u’ shaped bench surrounding the suspended dining table. Sanji plopped down, staring up at you with stars in his eyes. You laughed lightly and slid into his lap.

You paused for a moment, wishing to admire the man before you.

You delicately brushed back his lush blonde hair to see all of his face. His lovely, handsome face. Your hands cupped his face, tilting his head back slightly. Your fingers glided down his face, following the curves and edges. A face sculpted out of sunshine and forgotten gold. And yet, his eyes glimmered like the treacherous unforgiving sea. Your thumb brushed along his lip, lips which were a siren’s call tempting you. And tempt they shall.

You captured his lips again, his divine lips. They were utterly addictive. You didn’t know if you could last a day without tasting them at least once.

Sanji groaned. His hands grabbed your hips, drawing you closer. There was too much space between the two of you, he needed to feel you up against him. His hand slipped under your shirt, placing the flat of his palm on your lower back. Your bare skin was so inviting and soft against his calloused fingertips.

“Can - can I take this off?” He murmured to your lips.

His hand kept crawling up your back, impatient and giddy to see all of you.

You whispered, “Yes.”

You lifted your arms, allowing Sanji to take the leading step in this dance. He bit back a smile. His fingers curled around the hem of your shirt. His heart pounded like a schoolboy, so much that he felt it in his fingertips. He tugged it up, carefully. Your vision was blinded for a second as the shirt was pulled over your head and tossed onto the floor. Sanji’s eyes greedily drank you in.

“Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbled.

Your heart fluttered under his praise and reaction. He hesitantly reached up, only to bring his hands back down. “Touch me,” you breathed out. “You can touch me.”

He swallowed, and nodded. His hands shook lightly with overwhelming nerves and excitement. His hands cupped your breasts so delicately as if you were made of glass, as if he was afraid he may break you.

You purred, “Keep going.”

Sanji shivered. Keeping his eyes on your face, he slowly kneaded your breasts. You sighed, blissfully. Pleasure began to crackle over your skin. With each sigh, Sanji kept going, kept playing with you. His thumb and index finger pinched and rolled your perked nipples.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned, “Sanji.”

Oh, he loved that sound.

His cock twitched in his pants.

His eyes dropped down to your breasts. He licked his lips, feeling his mouth water. He bent his head down. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples. You gasped. Your hands flew up, digging into his shoulders. His tongue swirled around as he gently sucked on it.

“Fuck,” you mewled.

Your hands moved and threaded your fingers through his hair at the base of his head. Your fingers curled tugging on his golden locks. Sanji hummed, such a sensation sent a spike of pleasure through you. He removed his lips, and trailed a line of kisses across your chest to your other neglected breast. You bit your lip, trying to be quieter. But, Sanji’s wondrous vile mouth was making it difficult. He was dragging out and down into an ocean of pleasure. One swift under current and you were drowning in him.

You grinded down.

More.

You will happily drown even if he was your demise.

Sanji popped his mouth off and hissed, “Oh, fuck.”

You chuckled faintly. You repeated the tantalizing action. Sanji groaned loudly, throwing his head back. You wouldn’t waste an opportunity. You instantly latched your lips onto his neck, biting and sucking just as he did to you. You wanted him to drown just as you were.

Sanji whimpered.

Your lips curled into a smirk over his neck. Your fingers fell from his hair and down his chest. You bunched up his shirt. “Can I -“

He didn’t let you finish. He quickly pulled away and removed his shirt, adding it to the floor besides yours. You blinked then laughed.

“Okay, loverboy,” you smiled. “Eager, are we?”

Sanji’s cheeks flushed. “A bit.”

Your smile grew at his honest words. “That’s okay, so am I.”

You pecked his lips, short but still oh so sweet, before you dipped your head further down. He laid back into the bench as your lips skimmed over his stomach. You peppered soft butterfly kisses all over him. At each delicate touch of your lips, Sanji’s heart skipped. His eyes fluttered closed as you wove this loving spell over his desperate body. Until, that was, you nipped at his skin. Lust and desire was mixed into the spell. You injected it into his veins, making him gasp. Your sinful lips trailed upward. A patchwork of love bites criss-crossed over his body. Bruises would bloom tomorrow and he would cherish each one. As your lips brushed over his nipple, your eyes flickered up, seeing his eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. Smirking, you swiped your tongue over it.

He moaned, arching his back, “Sweetheart, I - I -“

I want you, I need you, he thought.

You knew how to make his body scream out, knew how to leave him gasping, knew how to make this nearly invincible cook into a puddle under your devilish fingertips. You kissed up his chest until you were face to face with him. “Come on, Sanji, use your words,” you teased.

“Oh, you little -“

He was cut off as a moan ripped out of his throat. You had grinded down on him, sending another wave of pleasure surging through him. You truly loved how easy it was to make him fumble over his words, to know you held such a devastating power over him.

“Speak up.” Your lips curled into a mischievous smile.

His lips were only a paper width away. His eyes constantly jumped between your eyes and your lips. He needed to taste you again, to feast on you in every possible sense. His arm curled around and his palm landed on your back, keeping you close.

“I need you, sweetheart.” His eyes seized their jumping and landed back on your lips. “Please.”

Your expression softened at his plea. “Okay.”

However, it wasn’t romantic. It was frantic. You leapt up removing your sweatpants while Sanji awkwardly wiggled out of his. No, not romantic. But, dear god, your hearts pounded with such excitement and adoration.

You paused again, glancing down at him. Propping himself on his elbows, he took you all in, trailing his eyes up and down your body. You immediately felt hot under his gaze, then he smiled. He smiled widely with that boyish charm of his.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out. “Absolutely stunning.”

You dropped your head, hiding your bashful smile. Shaking your head, you crawled back into his lap. His hands gently held your hips, still staring up at you with hearts in his eyes. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles over your skin. You brushed back his curtain of hair again. He leaned his head towards your warm hand. He grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. He turned his head and kissed your palm.

Perhaps, this was romantic.

Your heart skipped. ���I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His eyes glanced over to you and smiled, “I trust you.”

“If anything feels wrong, tell me.”

“I will.”

You kissed him, sweetly. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Sanji’s body buzzed with excitement at your promise. You would make him feel good, you would do everything you could to do so. But, you also would tease him.

Just a bit more.

Just to draw out his pleasure more.

You lowered yourself, and rubbed your dripping folds against his tip. Pleasure crackled down his spine. He hissed, tightening his grip on your hips. If this small act gave him this much pleasure, he didn’t know what he would do once inside of you.

You rubbed yourself down the length of his cock. Fuck, this was making you more wet. The feeling and thickness of him, his moans, it all made your heart flip and your cunt throb. You could rub and grind against him all night, getting off on this sensation alone.

Sanji moaned loudly.

“You might want to keep your voice down,” you whispered with a light laugh. “Wouldn’t want to wake the others.”

“Fuck -“ he choked on his words - “I’m trying, sweetheart, but - fucking hell, you’re - you’re -“

Teasing me, ruining me.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, I want to feel you, can I? Can I be inside of you?”

You leaned down, kissing his pouty lips. “Yes, of course, I did promise I would take care of you.”

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. You lined yourself up, and slowly - so very slowly - sank down. You wanted Sanji to feel every inch, to feel how your body adjusted to his size and shape.

And, oh boy, he did.

His head tipped back into the bench cushions. He clenched his jaw. His fingers buried into your hips, bruising them. It was a miracle he didn’t slam you down.

You finally bottomed out, sitting beautifully in his lap. Your hand splayed across his chest as you tried to catch your breath. You shivered in delight. You felt full. He stretched you in a way you truly never felt before. A soft whine hummed in your throat.

So full, so stuffed.

Panting, Sanji glanced down. He swore viciously at the sight. His cock had disappeared inside of you. His mouth dried up. You were so warm, so inviting. Then, you began to move. You lifted yourself up all the way and gently sank back down.

Sanji choked out a moan.

Your bodies were meddled together perfectly. He was made for you, and you were made for him. His mouth dried up as he watched. It was utterly memorizing as you took all of him. Moving up and down at a steady pace, you wanted to ensure Sanji felt everything. Fuck, he was. His body and mind were being consumed by pleasure. Your cunt hugged his cock, almost unwillingly to let go.

“Love, can - can you go faster?” Sanji begged.

Ecstasy turned to sweet nearly unbearable agony. Your pace was torturous as pleasure filled every part of his body. A soft whimper escaped his lips. He craved more, wished for more, and will continue to beg for more.

He was at your mercy.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I can.”

As you picked up your pace, Sanji moaned unabashedly. His sweet moans, your combined panting, the slapping of skin, and the creaking of the bench filled the quiet night air in the dark kitchen.

“Fuck,” he hissed out and instinctively bucked his hips up.

You moaned, “Shit, keep doing that.”

You pumped yourself at a faster pace, rolling and grinding your hips while feeling as Sanji bucked up hitting deep parts within you. It was heavenly. Each stroke made you choke on pleasure, leaving you gasping for air. His name fell off your lips. You tipped your head back, arching your back.

Sanji almost drooled at the sight.

His lips begged to drag over your body, tasting every inch of you. He wanted to tease your breasts again. He wanted to run his hands all over your curves. God, he loved those soft sighs you made. He loved how your face twisted in pleasure. He loved knowing your beautiful face was the first he saw painted in this light.

His heart leapt.

God, he wanted to devour and mark your body. Your sweet body called to him, tempted him. But, all he could do was stare; stare as your breasts bounced up and down to your pace, stare as sweat beaded across your chest making him lick his lips, stare as your swollen lips fell open with another lovely moan. Stare and stare while feeling his hunger grow.

Your hand slid down your body. Sanji’s eyes followed your fingers, curious as to what they were about to do. Your fingers then reached down, swirling and playing with your clit. Your walls clamped down around his cock.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he moaned, snapping his hips up again. He didn’t think more pleasure was possible.

Your head tipped back forward smiling down at him. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise was a bolt down his spine. His cock twitched at the sweetness that dripped off your lips. He only ever wanted to be good for you and no one else. He dragged you down again, pushing deeper inside of you. Your hands flew down to his chest, moaning. Soon, a new pattern emerged. Every time you came down Sanji forcibly bucked up.

He was a very fast learner.

Your nails scratched along his flushed skin. Purple spots and red ribbons will adorn his body in the coming days. Marks he will wear with pride. He hissed through his teeth, “Love, I - I won’t last any longer.”

“That’s okay,” you murmured. You lovingly cupped the side of his face as you continued to ride him. “Cum for me, Sanji.”

He whimpered, nodding.

Towards the end, it was animalistic.

It was utter desperation.

Sanji hungrily snapped his hips at a sloppy unruly pace. You grinded down onto him, rolling your hips. He groaned, arching his back. You had truly ruined him. He had feasted upon you to never go back. You will leave a crater sized hole in his chest forever. You and you alone could only fill.

Grinding down once more, Sanji groaned, cumming inside of you.

“There you go,” you whispered. You continued to ride him, working him through his orgasm and reaching your own.

His eyes lazily glanced down, seeing the white ring around his cock and his cum spilling out of you with each thrust. He whined and thrusted his hips up again, “Please, love, let me see you, let me hear you.”

A smile ghosted over your lips.

Your pace faltered as your legs started to shake. Yet, Sanji continued to guide you, helping you along. He wouldn’t dare leave you in such a desperate and hungry state. Luckily, you had an idea.

You extended two fingers towards Sanji’s lips. “Suck, please.”

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. He happily wrapped his lips around your fingers, sucking on them. His tongue ran and swirled over the pads of your fingers. You whined and shivered at the sensation. You swiftly pulled them out of his mouth, then swiftly played with your clit again.

You moaned loudly.

Sanji’s heart skipped. “Come on, love.”

Your walls fluttered. Sanji groaned, feeling you around him.

“That’s it, please let me see it,” he mumbled, still snapping his hips up.

Playing with yourself, Sanji’s pleas and his constant thrusts, it all pushed you under the current. Pleasure, unadulterated pleasure, was wrought into your body. Your walls clamped down as you came all over him. You moaned out his name which soon morphed into a small whimper.

Sanji swore at the sight.

Your hands rested on his chest, needing something steady to lean on. Both of you were panting as if swam across the sea. You picked up your head. His stormy blue eyes locked with yours. A lazy smile spread over his lips then he laughed lightly. He was still in a dreamy daze, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Tired?” You joked in a quiet voice.

“Exhausted,” he murmured, staring at your lips again.

You laughed once. You leaned down, kissing him softly. He hummed. You pulled back, but Sanji sat up, stealing one last kiss. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Come on,” you whispered, already starting to move. “Let’s clean up and go to bed.”

“And will I be joining you in bed?” Sanji teased,unadulterated while secretly asking.

You smiled, “I was hoping you would.”

[ranchstoryblog]

Ranch Story's Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma Review

Setting out to be a new take on the series, including new mechanics, setting, theming, and even a new director, Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma has a lot of questions to answer and, as the first entry for a new console generation, expectations to surpass. After my time with the game, I feel that while there are some rough edges, Guardians of Azuma is a thoroughly enjoyable breath of fresh air for the series.

This review was primarily played on Nintendo Switch, though some comparisons are made to other platforms.

A New World to See

From the outset, Guardians of Azuma sets itself apart from its predecessors in scope and theming. The Japanese-inspired fantasy setting feels fresh, and shortly after the start of the game you'll find that you're not just being confined to a single village and its immediate surroundings again. While not exactly an "open world," there's easily more places to explore than in any previous game in the series, literally and figuratively soaring above its predecessors. By the end of the game, it was easy to feel like Azuma as a setting was an interesting and well-realized setting, with plenty of its own lore and quirks to explore.

Azuma is undeniably a pretty place, with lots of nicely designed environments, set-pieces, and inhabitants in vibrant colors. With the characters being one of the strongest selling points of the game, it's nice that they not only look great, but many of them have their own distinct animations while idling and expressing themselves during cutscenes in a way that the static portraits of previous games in the series never managed to achieve.

Unfortunately, while the strong art style and use of colors helps bridge the gap, it's hard not to find the Nintendo Switch version specifically a little lacking compared to other platforms. There is frequent detail pop-in, with shadows and textures nearly constantly in flux somewhere on-screen while you're running around. This is an issue even during cutscenes at times, where it seems the level of detail can't keep up with the camera's movements; a great disservice to otherwise enjoyable event scenes.

Zoomed-in examples of detail shifting in the background of a cutscene.

Fortunately for those who don't have access to a PC or Nintendo Switch 2, the game still runs well overall. Loading times are relatively speedy, and the framerate doesn't have too many issues keeping up even when there are plenty of enemies, effects, or items on-screen. A very welcome and noticeable improvement when compared to Rune Factory 5.

Life in Azuma

One of the most drastic changes for players that are used to the typical farming sim fare will probably be that traditional farming isn't really a focus at all in Guardians of Azuma. Instead, as Village Chief, you'll largely be benefiting from your villagers managing farmland for you while you place buildings, decorations, and other resources. Designing your town is simple and intuitive, and each distinct addition, whether it's a new business or a cute little Lucky Cat statue, will provide an immediate benefit by increasing your stats and working towards the town's overall growth, unlocking new development zones along the way. It's a very different feeling system, but still a fun and rewarding one as you balance the needs of your villagers, maximizing your stat boosts, and just making something that you like looking at.

Villagers aren't always perfect though. Often, some negative traits get in the way, so you'll still need to go over their homework to keep the fields running if you're too soft-hearted to evict them. If everything's going smoothly, you'll be making more money than it costs to feed everyone while hardly ever lifting a finger. So long as everyone's happy, I'm sure they won't mind when you use the money they generate on crafting a shiny new bow instead of building more housing.

Speaking of a bow, it's one of the tools you'll always have on hand while exploring the more dangerous parts of Azuma, along with whatever you use as your main weapon and the Sacred Treasures you earn while progressing through the story. There's not as much weapon variety as in previous games, but none feel exceptionally stronger than the others, so it's nice to just use whatever feels best at the moment. Sacred Treasures also help provide some variety, allowing the use of other non-standard fighting styles such as punches and elemental magic attacks that can generally cut through any standard enemy so long as you have the RP to use them.

If you need any help, you can also recruit up to six monsters or characters you've bonded with to journey with you. Each one has their own specialty and some bring along skills the player doesn't have access to, like Hina's lasso-like Spell Seal for binding enemies in place. While exploring, characters will also sometimes talk among themselves, with some amusing interactions that might even hint at things you haven't really learned about them yet.

Forging those bonds can also be much more engaging than the standard farmsim fare of just giving everyone their favorite item every day, though that option is still available as well. While speaking with both potential love interests and the supporting cast, you can choose to hang out, which uses time as a resource to do various activities. Just like with giving gifts, each character has different things they like to do, with more options unlocking as you get closer and learn more about them. It's a much more natural way of getting to know someone, and several interactions don't just include cute little animations, but also some short dialog scenes, such as having a discussion over dinner or cuddling up while sharing an umbrella that's maybe a little too small for two people. It’s left me wanting this socialization dynamic for future Rune Factory games and wishing for it in past games - we’ll have to wait and see if it makes a reappearance.

One of the best qualities for how the characters are handled is probably just that almost everyone gets to participate in the overarching story to some degree. This review is aiming to generally be spoiler-free, but suffice to say that it's probably the most memorable and well executed story in the series and hovers around a minimum of 40 hours to complete if you still do a bit of farming and socializing between objectives.

Closing Thoughts

Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma is a wonderful, unique entry in the series, and very possibly the best so far. While it does do a lot of things differently, the new ways to play are fun and show a lot of promise if they continue to take the series in this direction. Whether this is your first Rune Factory or you're a long-time fan, this is a must-play for fans of the genre.

Additional coverage and a second review that includes more focus on PC and Steamdeck performance will be shared soon.

Review codes provided to Ranch Story staff by Marvelous USA and Marvelous Europe.

[respectthepetty]

Dee better be a Leo!

I'm so happy the first day of Pride landed on a SaturGay because we were all greeted by a birthday-filled Wandee Goodday!

Even though the birthdays were celebrated so the kids would have one day they didn't have to remember the sadness (this is going to come back to bite us in the ass when Yak and Dee aren't together, I'm sure)

But the reason I love it is because we learned Yak was was born December 6

Making him a Sagittarius. *horse sound effect*

Who tend to be friendly, flirty, funny, optimistic, and down to clown.

And you know what colors align with a Sagittarius? Purple (like Dee!)!

So if we get Wandee's birthday, I'm hoping he is a Leo (the best!) or a Gemini because their guiding color is yellow so it could link with Yak's yellow.

Wandee could also be an Aquarius because his (fake) blue would make sense, pero . . . I don't want it because, once again, I don't think the blue really captures his *essence*.

So even though Yak keeps wearing blue

I think that's just him absorbing Dee's environment without realizing how much he already feels for Dee, who is dramatic and stubborn, like a Leo.

Therefore, I'm still hoping that Yak will realize his feelings when he finally wears Dee's purple, so I'll be patiently waiting here for this Sagittarius to wear his power color.

However, if he does wear purple, it means that Dee has won since Dee is hellbent on making everything a competition; therefore, he must win everything, even trivial things that shouldn't be a competition.

As @doublel27 pointed out, Dee already crossed the line into pink = 💕love💕 territory (aka how a show becomes a Colors Award nominee)

Yet Dee won't even let Yak call himself Dee's boyfriend even though Yak has done it plenty of times for his advantage.

The thing is, Yak is the perfect balance for Dee with their white x black color dynamic, and not just sexually (which would make sense if Dee was a Leo, so please do not let him a Aquarius, dear God!)

Yak remembers important things like the EXACT amount of time they have been fake dating

When Ter couldn't even remember how long they had been friends.

Yak is honest and open with Dee and works as a team with him

While Ter can't even be honest with himself and sees Dee as competition (y'all really hate this man, but he is my poor little meow meow and I am captain of his apology squad)

But this is also Dee's problem - he isn't honest with himself and views everything as a competition, even when Yak has proven that Teamwork Makes the Dream Work.

For Yak, a man who excels at a sport that is based solely on individual talent where a person must knock out the competition to take claim his spot, he clearly knows the importance of working as a team and the value of including others.

This is something he has learned from his brother because even though Yak is the only one in the ring, without Cher and Yei's dedication to each other, the gym, and their child/brother, Yak would not be where he is.

And that's something Dee, who was raised by his free-spirited grandmother, needs to learn, especially as a doctor who works in a hospital with other doctors and nurses. (Those tiny boxing gloves need to be hanging on my rear-view mirror immediately, GMMTV. YOU HEAR ME?! Where is my merch?!)

A true balance (they switched colors) means you have to compromise. You can't always win. Sometimes you have to lose, intentionally.

Because as cute as this argument was over the ridiculousness of names/positions and toothbrushes with Yak's yellow big bunny brush having little yellow boxing gloves (thanks @babyangelsky) and Dee's purple brush with an adorable teeny tiger on it, the argument still gets to the point that Wandee refuses to lose.

He is sleeping with a big dick every night (I just really wanted to include the plushie)

He is cuddling on the couch with his grandmother in the next room.

He is dressing up and cuddling on the floor with the purple and yellow food items on the table.

He is trying to bake and cook when his grandmother never did, emphasis on trying.

And it's all because of Yak. Dee not only wants Yak, but he *needs* Yak because Yak makes him better and allows him to embrace his true self, but I truly believe Dee's need to win will overshadow everything else, which is maybe why he and Ter were such good friends for eight years since they don't remember dates they don't think are important, they need to win regardless of who gets hurts, and they won't realize what they have until it's gone.

But . . . that's just me thinking as a competitive and ambitious tiger Leo, so who knows?

Dee could just be an unpredictable Aquarius.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 12 🍒

"Just Like Heaven"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2,617

Summary: a continuation of Chapter 11 (more goings on at the Love Shack)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), fingering, pullout birth control (don't do it), fluff, mention of thigh job, takes place summer 2003, no use of y/n

Author’s note: just more fluff and spice <3

Series Masterlist

You don't know how much time passes by as you and Joel bask in the warmth of each other. This is what love is, this is what trust is. He holds you close to him and you trace little patterns on his arm with your fingertips, going over and over in your mind the euphoria you'd just felt, the way he molded you to fit his shape, how he knew exactly what would make you cum. You feel more like a woman now than you ever have. "We need to find a way to do this more often," you tell him, already imagining more scenarios, more heated encounters that are more than likely going to have to be in secret. This thrills you.

Joel smiles and takes your fingers, kissing each fingertip one by one. "I think I'd go crazy if I couldn't have you every day. I'm already looking forward to next time. And the time after that, and the time after that.."

You giggle as you settle into his embrace, and in the quiet you hear a distant boom, then another one. Living in the city all your life, you'd become accustomed to the sound of gunfire on the dangerous streets, but out here in the country, on the Fourth of July, you realize with a child's enthusiasm: "Fireworks!" You gently elbow Joel. "Let's go out and see them!"

He chuckles to see how cute you look, a grown woman still in love with the colors of explosions in the night sky. "All right, all right."

Getting up you gasp at the dull ache between your legs. "Are you okay?" Joel rushes to your side.

A little self-conscious, you nod. "I guess I'm still feeling the, uh, after-effects.."

"I didn't mean to get a little wild like that," he frowns. "Come on, I'll carry you outside."

You don't have time to reply once he scoops you up and carries you, bridal style, out to the lawn, bringing a blanket for you to lay on. The air is sticky, humid, but you pay it no mind when Joel's got his arms wrapped around you as you stare up at the bright bursts of red, green, purple, and gold. "This is the best night of my life," you whisper, grazing his cheek with a kiss. "I want to spend my whole life feeling this way."

"Let's make it even more special," he whispers in reply, moving his hands down your body, taking note of your response to his touch as goosebumps rise on your skin despite the heat outside, the way your nipples pucker in anticipation. He gently palms your cunt to feel it still so slick, and he's careful not to hurt you while you're still sensitive. Your hips arch up, inviting him, your body opens up to him and he's taken aback by the amount of trust you're placing in him. He puts you on his lap, your bodies intertwined. You feel his swollen cockhead at your entrance, and you hesitate, but damn it feels too good to stop.

"I want to feel you," you whisper, as if asking permission.

He sighs, his body stiff as if he's holding back. "Just for a little bit," he consents. You slide down on him slowly, still a little sore, but your body is learning his and the anticipation of pleasure conquers the low ache between your legs. "That's it," he whispers encouragement. "Nice and slow.."

Your response is a whimper as you take as much of him inside you as you can, feeling the difference in riding him bare, feeling every blessed ridge and vein, as if he's a part of you. His lips are on your neck as his thumb glides over your clit, making you wetter, easing the way in once again. He's gentle with you, and careful. "Joel," you whisper passionately as you feel his hips beneath yours, gently guiding you to a soft, perfect rhythm. Inch by inch you sink down on him, blooming open for him. It's such a snug fit and yet your body demands it, needs him to fill you until he's completely inside you and you swear you can feel him in your lower belly.

"See? You fit me just right," he whispers in your ear as the fireworks overhead brighten the late night sky. "You were made just for me.. just for me to fuck you."

This elicits a gasp from you as you clench down around him, grinding harder. Something about the way he cusses while he's balls deep inside you makes you feral, brings out the innermost animal. "Yes! Fuck me," you moan, hands grasping his hair while you ride him.

He shudders, holding back, knowing he shouldn't cum in you, but the thought is so damn tempting. He thinks about pumping every last ounce of himself into you, painting your pussy walls with his cum, making you his woman in the most primitive way. He wants to watch it drip out of you.

"Joel! I'm gonna cum!" you scream in your riding frenzy.

"Jesus!" he moans as he feels the pressure in his balls, just as you start to spasm around his cock. He pulls out of you just in time, sliding his fingers inside and thrusting them as you cum hard, coating his hand with your wetness. "Jesus," he repeats, in awe as you rhythmically pulse around his digits, an unfettered mess on top of him. Overhead the sky blooms multi-colored displays of light with resounding whistles and booms.

"You didn't cum yet, did you?" you ask him. Though you're breathless you're not spent, in fact you feel invigorated and ready for more.

He shakes his head, his heart still pounding from both your orgasm and his near-one. "Believe me, I wanted to." He's still hard as a rock, throbbing. "We should probably get cleaned up.."

"Shower? Together?" You smile lazily, teeth catching your lower lip.

"Abso-fuckin-lutely," he grins and picks you up, carries you back to the cabin.

Steam fills the room as you both stand under the warm shower. He goes over your skin with a washcloth, rubbing soft circles over your body, creating suds as he cleans you and lets the water rinse you off. He kisses your shoulders, your back, your neck, and his hands follow, caressing every curve and stroking where you're damp between your thighs. It's one of the most intimate moments of your young life. "All clean," he whispers.

"I am, but I had so much fun getting dirty with you.."

"Oh, I think I can make you dirty again.."

You turn to meet his gaze, wanting to see the desire in his eyes, needing to know that you're the one he wants above all.

"That look.." he whispers, his voice strained with lust. "I love your expression when you're surprised. Your eyes get all big and your cheeks get pink, the same as when you're about to cum. It's the most beautiful look I've ever seen." He's weak for you, finding your innocence absolutely adorable. "Turn around and put your hands on the wall," he gives a quiet command.

You grow excited at his words and do as he says, resting your palms on the wall, facing away from him.

"That's a good girl," he murmurs, placing a kiss on your shoulder. From behind you he caresses your hips, angling your body to his. You can feel him, hard and red hot against your ass and your cunt is already clenching, needing him to fill that space. Your knees practically buckle when his fingers graze your clit at the same moment you feel him start to enter you, and you keep yourself up with one hand while the other digs your fingernails into his thigh. He removes it and firmly presses your hand back to the wall. "I said to keep them there," he says, voice tight with what little self-control he has left.

His authoritative demeanor does things to you, makes you feel like a different person altogether. “Joel, please..” you press back against him, needing him inside.

“Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you moan.

"I want you too," is his gruff reply. "I promise I'll pull out," he says as he teases your folds with the head of his cock and you, still new to the sensation, tremble and whimper. You gasp at the sweet intrusion as he slides inside of you, his hips flush against your ass. He knows exactly how to fuck you, how to move so that you feel everything. Pressed tight to you, one arm wraps around your torso, his hand cupping your breast and plucking at your nipple while his other hand stays on your hip. Your fingernails scratch the surface of the wall in front of you. He moves at a leisurely pace, wanting to savor this moment of being inside you again with no barrier to keep you apart, loving your warmth and wetness and also wanting to keep from coming too soon. He loves losing himself in you.

The sensations are like nothing you've felt before. Joel is rubbing a spot within you that makes you cry out with need. "Fuck," he mutters when he feels you constrict around him. "That's all it takes, huh? Just a few strokes of my cock has you cumming already.."

Your response is a whimper - your brain is too muddled with pleasure to form coherent thoughts or sarcastic remarks. But that doesn't stop Joel from pushing in deeper, tunneling himself further into your so-tight cunt so that you'll feel it for days afterward. He grabs hold of your hips, picking up the pace, punctuating your gasps with each smack of his hips against yours. You're barely able to hold on, and each time you try to move your hands he puts them back. "Be a good girl for me," he whispers, moving faster still, crashing into you, his balls thwacking in between your legs. You start to shudder and your body tenses in preparation for your orgasm. You meet Joel thrust for thrust, seeking that satisfaction only he can give you, and only a moment after you clamp down on him, sighing and shaking, he quickly pulls out, painting your ass cheeks with his cum as he growls, near breathless at the primitive sight before the shower washes the evidence away.

"Nobody's ever made me feel beautiful before," you whisper in the darkness of the bedroom. Your body's draped over his, Joel's heartbeat just beneath your ear, loud, steady, comforting.

"No man's ever wanted you for himself? That can't be true." His voice reverberates in his chest.

"I could say the same for you. What's a strong, sexy man like you doing without a woman?"

"You're my woman now," he says decisively, bringing you up to look into your eyes. "I wanted you since I first saw you. I've never wanted anyone like you before. No one else has ever made me feel this way."

"Really? Since you first saw me?" You smile at your shared confessions, the shower of praise and adoration you cover each other with. "The feeling was definitely mutual. I had some interesting thoughts about you while you fixed the sink that one day."

He smirks, traces his fingers down the middle of your body. "What kinds of thoughts?"

Stifling a mischievous giggle you settle onto his lap, thrilled that he's already nice and hard, ready for you. "It's better if I show you.."

The next day you cook breakfast together. You wear one of his shirts, an lightweight flannel that's too big for you, and panties underneath, nothing more. Joel can't take his eyes off you in the kitchen, cupping your ass as you try to flip pancakes, trying to distract you. All he can think about is bending you over the counter and sliding into you inch by glorious inch until you scream his name.

You're a pretty mess in his eyes, hair thrown into a haphazard ponytail, swaying to "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure playing over the radio. He's so in love that he can't think of anything or anyone else. He feels like it would be impossible for him to ever get bored of you in any way, shape, or form. Even if it's twenty years from now.

At the table you watch him, a smile on your face as the morning light from the window casts its golden rays on him, outlining him like he's an angel. Right in the middle of his breakfast you straddle him, taking him by surprise but as usual he's ready for you. He doesn't even question it anymore, simply goes along with you, kissing you and running his fingers through your hair as you slip his hardness free from his boxers and take him into you, taking your time to savor every inch as he gently burrows inside you. "We're playin' a dangerous game, babygirl," he warns in your ear, voice strained with holding back how much he wants to pound into you.

"I don't care what happens," you tell him, your breath hitching as his hands unbutton your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. You sink deeper onto him, gasping as he cups each breast and teases your nipples with his teeth and tongue. "Joel!" you shrill his name, a prayer, a plea. He's starting that fire within you, meant to rage, and you lose control, slamming yourself down hard on him until the exhilaration begins its ascent, resonating throughout every vein and every atom, and you come apart while riding him, cunt clenching his cock as he's trying to hold himself together long enough to let you finish. Just as you're about to go limp in his arms he lifts you onto the table, spreads your thighs wide open and thrusts into you desperately, hands gripping your hips. Before long he pulls out and shoots his cum on your belly in thick white ropes.

This only brings you to the shower again, and this time you let him fuck your thighs before he takes you against the wall, slippery limbs wrapped around him as his hips drive against you double-time.

The afternoon is spent soaking up the sun and diving into the lake, the surface of which is nicely warmed by the sun as you and Joel splash and chase after each other, laughing and playing. You clasp your limbs around him, embracing him and kissing him. The first time you ever really touched, at the pool party at your cousin's house, seems like it happened years ago.

That evening, as the sun wears out its welcome and the sky brings in the dark violet of night, Joel brings out his guitar, gently strumming as you rest on the front porch, your head on his shoulder as he sings a low, sweet tune. There's nothing more you want than this peaceful comfort, this love that's taken your hand and led you down a path you never imagined for yourself.

At the end of it, you hate to leave, knowing you'll have to go back to secrecy, creating lies in order to find little moments to be together.

"I've never wanted anything in my life more than this," Joel murmurs to you on your last night at the cabin, fingertips tracing your lips as he's situated between your legs on the bed. "I just wanna make you feel so damn good."

"I love you," comes your whispered reply, and when he says it back you have the feeling that everything will be all right.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

dividers by @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

THAT FLOYD ONESHOT WAS SO GOOD‼️‼️ I'd love to see a part 2 for it!^^

(If you want to btw-)

As long as we're together

Floyd x reader (Part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Summary: after a long while of being reconnected with your favorite brozone member. You make plenty of sweet familiar memories, however a line is crossed when a familiar popstar duo enters the picture.

Words: 1475

Warnings: Implied death, angst, another semi-cliffhanger

A/N: I don't know why I wrote these so fast, but maybe it's because I stopped worrying about tiny details and just went with the flow. I don't think I got Velvet and Veneers personalities perfect but I just felt like their scene fit their dynamic as best as possible. Genuinely appreciate the support on the last part, your guy’s positive feedback gives me life. Stay golden and enjoy! Ps. Velvet and Veneer are the same color but I tried to make it clear who was talking in the writing, thank you!

✦✧✦

You remember the first week you two were together. So fondly. Back to back in your prisons and humming each other's favorite song. No matter how embarrassing.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

It's been quiet for a few hours, you're both recovering from the last concert and are giving each other time to process. When suddenly Floyd begins humming quietly. You look at him and raise an eyebrow.

He returns your eye contact and smiles warmly. He then whispers. “Don't you…forget about me.” He would quietly sing. He continued mumbling the words until you would join in, but instead with one of his songs.

“Lately I've been, I've been losing sleep. Dreaming about the things that we could be.” You placed a hand on the glass as your voices began to wrap around one another. Creating a symphony unlike anything else. It reminded you that sometimes just singing matters more than any perfect note.

The two of you continued until you couldn't anymore. You tried to keep humming but you threw yourself into a coughing fit. Floyd immediately stopped singing and looked at you. “Hey hey, it's okay. You don't have to.” he comforted, instinctively reaching out a hand for your shoulder but being stopped by the barrier between you two.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” you responded, despite the deep pain in your chest. You sat up and leaned on the glass. “Can we still talk?” You asked. Then Floyd nodded.

“So mount rageous? Pretty cool huh?” he started the conversation, but you only snorted at his sad excuse for a conversation topic.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

In a similar regard. You remember him telling you about his brothers. You were getting a bit too overhyped over all of them though. Even if you loved every other brother, you had to remind him who the best of them was.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

“Then there's Spruce-”

“The heartthrob!”

“Yeah him. He was nice, I didn't like how much he butted heads with John though. I just wish I could see them again,” He looked at his hands, gripping the air as if it were life support. You frowned. Leaning into the glass.

You didn't know how to comfort him, at this point, you were both pretty pessimistic. So saying anything optimistic would have the opposite effect. So you decided to keep talking instead.

“Yeah, spruce was pretty cool, but did you go to the last Brozone concert?” You said, utterly messing with him at that point.

“Wait what?” He asked as he glanced back at you.

“It was so good! I mean the pyrotechnics, the colors, ugh! The music! Don't get me started on the music!” you did your best to stand up and did an excited spin. Floyd followed.

“Woah hey, slow down.” he placed both hands on the glass and his eyebrows creased with worry.

“Though there was something I could never get over. Something that always irked me.” You stumbled back into the purple surrounding you, looking into Floyd’s eyes. He frowned and looked down. Seeming to already know what you’re going to say. However, you hit him with a curveball. “There wasn’t enough of that sensitive troll…what was his name again?”

He shook his head and said your name once. “What are you talking about?”

“He had pink hair, he was almost the youngest but Bitty B was too quick.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Bitty B was the star of the show honestly.”

You laughed and leaned your forehead toward him, he did the same. Your eyes met and you grinned. “He was the cutest troll and my favorite. No other brother could beat him.”

His cheeks turned red instantaneously, causing him to turn away. you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Which threw you into yet another coughing fit, Floyd was at your side quickly. Checking up on you to make sure you weren’t gone yet.

⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱⊰⊱

Those moments, even if short. Meant the world to you. Now the boundary was crossed. Neither of you had much strength to talk or sing together anymore. To you went with compatible silence. That is until Velvet and Veneer took matters into their own hands.

You were in your usual spot when suddenly, Velvet stormed in. She was in hysterics, absolutely appalled by her performance. “I can't believe that happened!” she shrieked, kicking a shoe into a wall. Veneer came in right behind her.

“It's fine! One voice crack never ruined anyone's career! Woah!” Veneer dodged another shoe and hid behind a mirror just in case. Velvet wasn't having any of it though, she was completely thrown off course.

She stomped to the desk and swiped up the perfume bottle you were inside. “I don't care if it was one voice crack or five! I can't mess up like that in front of the world!” she growled and was prepared to throw you across the room. Before she stopped. She looked at you and smiled. “I just need more troll. That's all.”

She grinned, pulling the bottle to her neck and beginning to spray all around her. Veneer came from behind the mirror and put out a hand. “Hey, maybe we should ration those little guys, don't know how many trolls we're going to need, you know?” He tried reasoning.

Floyd looked up at Velvet and watched in horror as she sprayed as much of the music onto her as she could. There was nothing he could do. Velvet laughed in her insanity. Glancing at Veneer she made sure she was covered head to toe. “We won't need much more Veneer! If I nail this performance we’ll be made! I promise!”

Veneer shook his head and walked closer. When Velvet suddenly sprayed him in the face. “And face it. You love the attention as much as I do.” She hissed. Then once she was calm she slammed you back down onto the desk and left you alone. “Okay, now…I'm ready!” She was going to leave but Veneer stopped her. He pointed at your bottle and gulped. Velvet turned to look at you.

You were spent, your hair all white and your skin turning an entirely different shade. You were dying, and you were dying fast. Floyd dropped to his knees and whispered your name multiple times as if it would be the last thing he uttered. “Please be okay, please hold on for a bit longer.” He begged,

Then as soon as you were down, you were up again. Velvet groaned and handed Veneer the bottle. “You handle it. I have to get ready.” She said before leaving him alone in the room. Veneer grimaced as he watched her go. Then grimaced even more when he realized his duty.

Floyd banged on the glass. Trying to break it open to no avail. Veneer looked at Floyd. “Geez, you're making this harder. If I don't do this you know what Velvet will do.” He knelt down to Floyd’s level. Veneer’s eyes pleading for understanding.

Floyd shakes his head. “you don't have to do this, Veneer just let us go! Please, I'm begging you.” Floyd pushes hard on the glass, looking up into his eyes. Veneer, on the brink of being moved, stands up and looks at your nearly lifeless form.

Before he could respond, Velvet rips the diamond out of his hand. “What are you doing? I told you to deal with it. Not stand around playing with it.” She looked around and crossed her arms. “Ugh I always have to do everything. Hope you like flying.” she says, walking to the nearest window and opening it.

Veneer cringed at the notion, sitting down and looking away from her. Floyd began panicking more trying to get out more than ever, but of course. It wasn't working. He needed the perfect family harmony.

Without much of a second thought. Velvet threw you out of the window. Watching you fall and then dusting her hands off. She looked at Veneer. “Well? We have a show to put on. We have to get ready! Come on!” She walked out, leaving Veneer with Floyd. Veneer looked down at the troll and was going to comfort him when he decided, it probably wasn't for the best.

Veneer left, leaving Floyd all alone. Floyd was looking out the window. Thinking about you, thinking about all the fun you had in your worst situation, and he realized it was false hope. Being with you for the rest of your lives. He then realized there was no platonic explanation for his feelings.

He had loved you, but he didn't know it until you were gone.

Pt 3?

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 24

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 7k

Chapter rating: NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, SMUT

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 24: I'm Still Angry

On the first night, you’d drowned your thoughts in a haze of alcohol, seeking refuge in the oblivion it promised. On the second night, you’d danced with reckless abandon, losing yourself in the rhythmic pulse of the music until memories blurred into nothingness. And on the third night, exhaustion had claimed you, pulling you into a deep slumber that offered respite from the chaos of your mind… until the sound of music beckoned you to start the whole ritual once again.

Outside, the storm raged on, its fury unabated by the passage of time. But within the cozy confines of the tavern, the tempestuous winds and torrential rain faded into the background, drowned out by the lively chatter and infectious laughter of its patrons. In the warm glow of the lanterns, you found solace from the relentless onslaught of the elements and your thoughts. 

You hadn't returned to the ship in over a week, your stubbornness fueling your determination to stay away. The idiot could fall on Yokubari and fucking go to hell, for all you cared, or so you kept on telling yourself. During this time, Nami had visited the tavern on a few occasions, indulging in a drink or two while checking up on you. Initially, concern had etched lines of worry on her face, evident in the way she probed for details about what had transpired between you and the swordsman. But when you remained unwilling to talk, she had simply sighed in resignation, accepting your silence with a weary understanding. She assured you that they would come to fetch you before they set sail again.

"So, what's your poison tonight?" The question cut through the din of the tavern, drawing your attention back to the present moment. Leaning against the worn wood of the bar, you regarded the boy with a half-smile, appreciating his easy charm and friendly demeanor.

He had been a constant presence over the past few days, a willing partner in the impromptu dance sessions that had become a nightly ritual. Together, you had spun and laughed, losing yourselves in the music and the fleeting moments of joy it brought. He was flirty but not pushy, making him perfect for whatever you were trying to achieve with this temper tantrum of yours.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he awaited your response, his expression a curious blend of anticipation and amusement. "I think I'll stick to water tonight," you confessed with a chuckle, your voice tinged with a hint of ruefulness. "I'm still feeling the aftermath of those drinking games from last night."

The boy laughed lightly, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. His flirty attempt was clunky, unpracticed. "Water it is then," he murmured, his tone playful yet colored with a sliver of disappointment. "But don't think you can escape me that easily. We've got some dancing to do, remember?" 

You tossed your head back at his awkward charm, laughing heartily. Goodness, he never gave up. As you watched your dance partner come back with your drink, you noticed how he faltered in his step, how he blanched a little as he glanced over your shoulder. 

You didn’t even need to look to guess what had unsettled the boy so, but still you stared at the swordsman effectively looming over you.

Oh.

He was angry.

Your eyes traveled from his face to the swords at his side, landing on Yokubari, still strapped at his waist. You scowled, the blazing anger within you refueled at the sight. The urge to throttle him still unbelievably strong. Didn’t matter, two could play this game, your own fury not to be underestimated.

With a scoff, you turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of your hand. “I don’t feel like talking to you, swordsman,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disdain as you refused to give him any more of your attention.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the boy, sensing the tension between you and Zoro, hesitated in his approach. His easy smile faltered, replaced by a nervous unease as he quickly retreated, eager to avoid becoming collateral damage in whatever confrontation was brewing between the two of you.

Smart boy. You’d do the same if you were in his place.

Sighing, you leaned against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention with a practiced gesture. The need for an actual drink abruptly urgent. “You didn’t have to chase him away like that,” you admonished, your tone thick with irritation. “He was a perfectly fine dance partner.” 

Silence answered you as you heard the subtle shift of cloth and clink of swords behind you as he matched your movements.

When the bartender inevitably ignored you too, suddenly engrossed in polishing a glass, you turned to face him. “What do you want?” you snapped, your expression a mask of defiance, resolute to not let him ruin your night.

His frown deepened, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm grip that bordered on possessive. “We’re going back to the ship,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You paused there for an instant, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. “No,” you decided as you wrenched your hand free from his grasp and strode purposefully towards the dance floor, determined to assert your independence in the face of his domineering shit of an attitude.

You sensed Zoro's presence trailing behind you for a moment, his looming shadow casting a palpable weight in the midst of his annoyance, then not anymore. Ignoring his silent disapproval, you surrendered to the pulsating rhythm of the music, allowing it to guide your movements to the center of the crowd with instinctive grace. Drawn into the embrace of a stranger, you yielded to the seductive sway of the tune, granting the man’s touch to travel sensually along the curves of your body.

With each spin and turn, the stranger's hands ventured boldly, taunting the fabric of your shirt upwards to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. He twirled you around, allowing your back to fall against his chest, as his fingers roamed in a slow, teasing display. 

On any other day, you would have slapped the inquisitive touch away but on this night the nerve of his exploration served the audacity of your actions. You met the swordsman’s stare with a lidded gaze. Was that fury you saw flashing in his eye? Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was that twisting up his pretty face, it felt like a victory. 

With a wicked grin, you yielded into the stranger's touch, inviting the tension to mount between you and the swordsman with each passing moment. You thrived on the satisfaction. The air hummed with unspoken defiance, a silent dare for Zoro to break his stoic façade.

The stranger's touch ventured further, his hand gliding from your stomach to your chest, his palm flat as he pressed against the fabric of your shirt before encircling your throat with a gentle yet possessive hold. Tilting your head back against his shoulder, you maintained eye contact with the swordsman, relishing the simmering intensity in his furious stare.

As the tension between you reached a crescendo, you observed with satisfaction as Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of one of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. The air crackled with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken challenge that hung between you like a tautly drawn bowstring.

With a subtle shift in your stance, you silently dared Zoro to make a move. The stranger's touch remained a seductive invitation, a quiet provocation that dared the swordsman to act on his impulses.

And then, the tension shattered like glass.

With a swift, fluid motion, Zoro's hand inched away from the hilt of his sword, his steps carrying him across the crowded floor in a determined stride. Ignoring the curious glances of the tavern's patrons, he closed the distance between you with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he reached you, he grabbed your arm firmly but not roughly, pulling you away from the stranger's embrace with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. The stranger's hand fell from your throat, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation as he watched the swordsman stake his claim.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted at him as you followed his lead.

Without a word, Zoro led you away from the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, his grip tightening as he guided you through the maze of tables and chairs. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his silent declaration hanging heavily between you.

As you emerged into the cool night air, the storm still raging overhead, the wind tousled your hair, rain slowly drenching your clothes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You shouted again, planting your feet down, obstinate anger filling you, refusing to budge.

Zoro’s expression remained flat; his jaw clenched in stubborn determination. “We’re going back to the ship,” he stated firmly.

You scoffed incredulously; the sound drowned out by the howling wind. “Like hell we are,” you retorted, your noncompliance unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you, swordsman.”

For a moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent standoff, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain of defiance. The tension crackled in the air, thick with unspoken words.

Fuck, he was stunning. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him. Your eyes surveyed his face, taking in the scowl on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.

He moved with swift determination, pinning you against the slick brick wall. The freezing rain seeped through your already soaked clothes, but you paid it no mind amidst the brewing confrontation.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” you snapped, glaring up at him, defiance flashing in your stare.

“You’re infuriating,” he growled, leaning in close, his breath mingling with yours in the damp air.

“I’m still angry,” you declared, your brows furrowing with stubborn resolve.

“So am I,” he admitted, his hand traveling up to cradle the nape of your neck.

“You have no business being angry at me, swordsman,” you retorted, your tone sharp with wrath.

Despite the intensity of the storm raging around you, the charged atmosphere between you and Zoro crackled with an energy of its own. His grip tightened slightly, fingers tangling in your hair, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“You always make it so damn difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation.

“Me?” you scoffed, index pushing repeatedly into his chest painfully. “You're the one wh—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, silencing your protest with a searing passion. At first, you froze, then you matched his intensity, finding yourself responding to his movements with an equal measure of neediness, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair roughly as you pulled him closer.

His fingers traveled under your shirt, his touch scorching hot against the coolness of wet skin. You backed off searching for breath. Your eyes met his, the hunger in his gaze made your knees want to buckle a definite want settling in your core.

Fuck.

With a firm push, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he yielded to your lead. As he took a step back, your hand found the hem of his sleeve, a determined look in your eyes as you started to move, dragging him through the winding maze of alleyways. Each turn was swift and decisive, your footsteps echoing against the forming puddles in the dips of the cobblestones as you navigated the labyrinthine paths with resolute haste, your destination clear in your mind.

Without a word, you pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hotel you’d been staying at, the warmth of the lobby enveloping you in a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside rain. The flickering glow of the lanterns cast dancing shadows upon the walls as you beelined to your room.

The swordsman hovered over you, placing soft kisses on your neck as you fumbled to unlock the door.

The lock clicked. You entered. In the sanctuary of your room, his hands grew bolder in their exploration, your shirt dragging dangerously high, the hem of your short skirt catching on your hips in a barely decent display.

“Shit,” you mewled, one of your hands finding purchase on the flat surface before you, nails digging in the wood as you tried to lock the door behind you. “Just let me lock the door,” you begged as he nipped at your neck, licked your ear.

He ignored your pleas, his body melting against yours, trapping you more firmly against him. His hand traveled against your thigh, traced the soft flesh near your core, his hips catching into yours. Your forehead met the wood of the door as the pads of his fingers found your soaked underwear, tracing light circles.

You moaned. Mind feeling empty as a wave of pleasure coursed through your veins.

He brought your hips tighter against his as his touch became rougher. He deftly pushed aside the drenched fabric, pads meeting your slick. Everything felt more intense all of a sudden, the embers of ecstasy unmuted as he explored relentlessly. 

His name passed your lips in a high whine. He moaned against your ear, hips unwillingly bucking into yours. Fuck. You could feel how hard he was.

The lock finally clicked. You turned around. His lips found yours immediately in a primal urgency. 

“The bed’s right there,” you mewled, your words breathy.

He kissed your jaw, down your neck. “Don’t care,” he said as one of his hands pushed up your shirt, your bra, fingers tracing the curve of your breast, pinching almost tenderly at your nipple.

“We should wash up first,” you protested meekly, your fists bunching in the wet fabric of his overcoat, movements contradicting your objections.

“Don’t care,” he repeated breath mingling with yours. He bit at your lower lip, tongue darting in, exploring, demanding. 

You obliged, hands discovering his chest, never settling in one place.

As you broke away for air, he leaned back, his hungry gaze meeting yours. He smirked, taking in the want in your eyes, your bruised lips, the flush on your cheeks. He backed off a step, eye roaming over your body, searing in the image before him in his mind, the way your skirt was hiked up, the way the wet fabric of your shirt clung to your skin as you leaned against the door.

“Fuck,” he groaned. You were the very picture of depravity.

He fell to his knees, pressed a kiss on the front of your underwear as his hands traced up along your outer thighs. As his fingers curled against the lace of your panties, he looked up at you, a soft pause as he searched your features for any hint of hesitation. 

The crystal-clear need etched on your face gave him all the confirmation he needed. He trailed the thin piece of fabric down. It caught for a moment on your knee-high boot as you lifted one leg to help him out. 

Before you could put your foot down, his hand wrapped under your knee, bringing your leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head on your inner thigh, cheek against soft flesh before placing slow kisses, tender bites as he made his way toward your heat.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling painfully on the unruly locks, nails digging into his scalp, backing him away. He looked up at you, a groan escaping him at the sensation. There was clear satisfaction in his gaze.

“Look at you, witch,” his voice was gruff, tick with lust. 

It sent a shiver down your spine, a moan out your lips. You felt some of your slick drip on your thigh, cool against flushed skin. Heat spread across your face at the reaction of your body.

“I’m still angry,” you whispered as he started moving closer, one of his hands exploring up and down your outer thigh, the other dragging your skirt higher, before dipping down, fingers tracing your slit.

His grin broke into a smile as he brought them to his mouth, the light glistening on their wetness. He made a show of licking them clean. Tongue swirling, sucking against the digits before his lips came back to your inner thigh.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” he apologized dangerously close to your core, his breath teasing, your legs feeling less and less steady as seconds passed. “Forgive me.”

You whined his name, a hopelessly needy sound. 

Finally, finally, he met your heat, giving you no time to adjust to the relentless rhythm of his onslaught. His tongue pressed against your clit as he devoured you with the hunger of a man deprived of water, each lick and suck a desperate quenching of his thirst.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, the world feeling like a hazy dream in between the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. Your fingers tightened in the unruly locks, nails digging into the flesh at his nape as your hips bucked unwittingly.

He moaned against you, the muffled sound sending electric shocks through you. His hold on your thigh increased, anchoring you solidly against his shoulder as his nails left crescent marks in the plush flesh. His other hand went to your core, lifting the hood of your clit slightly as he redoubled his efforts. 

Your eyes shot open at the sensation, breath catching in your throat. It was all too much, the pleasure cascading over your mind too sharp. One of your hands snapped away from his hair, clamping over your mouth, muffling the high-pitched scream that passed your lips. The back of your head hit the wood behind you loudly, the pain barely registering. 

Your gaze met his, you sensed the satisfied smirk gracing his lips more than you saw it. He moved away from your clit, exploring. His tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers taking on the bundle of nerves instead.

You were about to come, your vision starting to feel overexposed, everything swirling around you. You tried to warn him, your words incoherent.

He maintained his rhythm, allowing you to tip over the edge, white overflowing your senses.

He continued tirelessly, your thigh trembling against his shoulder. You attempted to pry him off, but he remained doggedly obstinate in his ministrations.

You bit down painfully on your palm as your mind wrestled to keep up with the overstimulation. Your breath hitched and struggled with every inhale and exhale. 

“Too much,” you begged, voice high, the sound muffled by your hand as a second orgasm coursed through you, tears threatening to flood your eyes.

He stopped then, waiting for your grip to loosen in his hair before coming back up. His chin was covered in your arousal. He pried your hand away from your mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the teeth marks etched in your skin before his lips found yours.

His movements were slow at first, allowing your mind to catch up. Then his tongue met yours in a forceful dance, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth.

Your knees buckled. Your fists bunched in his overcoat in an attempt to steady yourself but you still felt your back start to drag down against the door, your legs unable to keep you up.

His hands went behind your thighs, pulling you in his arms effortlessly. You melted in his chest, limbs uncooperative before he deposited you onto the bed.

As your back sank into the softness of the mattress, your eyes landed on the swordsman skillfully maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Shoes,” you muttered as your gaze went to your boots. 

He grumbled a curse under his breath, bringing your other leg to his shoulder so both feet were next to one another. “Always so fucking demanding,” he complained, words barely audible as with one hand he tugged at the laces of your boots, the other going to your cunt, two fingers entering your heat.

The squelching sound of your arousal as he fingered you was obscene. Lazy whimpers escaped you as they easily slipped in and out, the hazy feeling in your mind delightful. He suddenly curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, eliciting a loud moan out of you, the promise of rapture starting to edge at your vision once more.

“Zoro,” you begged between moans, his name flowing out of your lips again and again, a deprived chant.

He finished loosening the laces of the first boot, taking it off roughly and throwing it back without care. You dimly heard it hit something but it barely reached the edge of your mind, your attention entirely focused on the shifts of his fingers.

The pad of his thumb met your clit gently, teasing as he started unlacing the second boot.

You bucked under his touch, walls fluttering against his fingers. 

His hand moved against the laces with sudden urgency, tugging harder and faster with each pull as he hurried through the process. 

The second boot joined the other. You whined in protest as he left your heat. He opened your legs, settling himself between them.

You pushed yourself to your elbows, then sitting as you took off your shirt, your bra. Your bodies almost touched in the position, your legs draped over his thighs, warmth radiating from your skin, melting into his own.  

You leaned back slightly, his gaze unabashedly took in the sight. His fingers skillfully unknotted the cords holding the swords at his side. There was a loud clang as they fell to the floor forgotten, his overcoat and stomach band following suit with urgency. 

His hands grazed up your thighs, nails digging in and sending shivers to your core. He leaned in, his lips hovering ever so close over yours.

Your hand palmed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. You looked up at him, pupils blown in desire.

The moan that escaped him was pure lust, primal as his breath mixed with yours.

It stirred something in you. You ached to see him writhe under your touch, hear that moan again, make him whimper.

“Let me return the favor,” you demanded, fingers moving up and down, groping before inching towards the waistband of his pants.

His hand intercepted yours roughly. “Not today,” he kissed your jaw, down your throat. “Can’t wait,” he muttered after giving your nipple a flick with his tongue.

He pushed you down, your back meeting the mattress in a small bounce. You rolled your hips against his, your arousal leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. You felt his canine graze your breast as he relished the feeling, followed by a soft bite and his tongue as he sucked and marked.

“Then just fuck me already, swordsman,” you demanded. 

He smirked against your skin. “So needy,” he remarked, pulling back, his hands departing from you as he undid his pants, his aching cock meeting your stomach.

He moved one of your legs expertly to his shoulder, fingers finding the scar near your ankle, tenderly tracing circles against it. Your other leg instinctively wrapped around his hip.

His gaze was filled with lust as he met yours. You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance. His lips went to the white line marking your skin in a soft kiss as he started sinking into you.

You whimpered as he dragged in further, the pace tortuously slow. Your fingers tangled in the sheets in ecstasy. The stretch was overwhelming, intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, biting down on the flesh above your ankle, leaving small red marks behind. “So fucking tight.”

You tried to roll your hips, take him in quicker but his hand stopped the movement, stilling you in a bruising hold.

By the time he was fully sheathed inside you, you were breathing hard, your walls already fluttering against him. He gave a tentative thrust, nails digging into the plushness of your hips before he dragged a hand to your lower stomach, increasing the pressure as he filled you oh so well.

He was so deep, it almost made your eyes roll. You could feel your breasts bounce with every slow thrust. For a moment you saw him admire the view but his gaze inevitably returned to your face as he relished each twitch of pleasure passing your features far more than anything else. 

There was a furrow on his brow as he searched for something, his hand moving your leg, opening you up, trying to find a certain angle. You let out a sharp cry as a particular thrust made you see stars.

“Zoro,” you whined, one of your hands extending towards him, “fuck,” he was just out of reach, you wanted to touch him so bad. You let your hand fall, instead joining his for an instant on your stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He slid out to the tip and slammed back in, his pace increasing now that he had found what he was searching for.

Your hand fell back to the covers at the intensity of his movements, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. His palm roamed up from your stomach, roughly groping as he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, his breath mingling with yours suddenly. His fingers settled on your neck, then your jaw as he bit your lower lip, and kissed you hard. 

As he pulled back, his gaze blown with lust followed the strand of saliva connecting the two of you. “How long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he passed his thumb harshly on your reddened lips. “Just so you know, I’m only starting, witch.”

A smirk danced on your features at the boldness of his words, a chuckle escaping you, as though he wasn’t already fucking you senseless. You rolled your hips, meeting his rhythm. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, swordsman,” you retorted, the defiance in your stare igniting a spark in his eye, a challenge he was willing to see through.

In answer, his hand left your face, settled itself between your bodies, finding your clit in soft circles. Your back arched in pleasure, your hands flying to his arms, fingers looking for purchase. Incoherent swears passed your lips, your nails dug in, dragged along his arms. The pain mixing in with the pleasure earning you a loud groan on his part.  

You dimly caught the sound of the bed creak with each of his thrusts, the way the headboard slammed on the wall now and then, but you didn’t care, the ecstasy washing over you making you forget all sense of propriety.

Your words were incomprehensible as he brought you nearer and nearer to the edge. Closer to desperate pleas and wanton moans than coherent sentences. Your whole body tensed hard as you orgasmed, a soft flush spread across your chest. 

You heard him swear under his breath as your walls clenched around him but he didn’t stop as your mind struggled to come back. He suddenly turned you over, his thighs trapping yours. His hands found your hips, holding them up bruisingly. The moan you let out as he slid inside you again was so depraved that he almost came right there.

Your face dug in the covers, drool seeping in the fabric, nails digging hard in the soft weave. You heard threads snap as you writhed. He felt so deep. Your toes curled in pleasure. It was all too much, you were already so damned over sensitive.

“Shit, so good for me,” his hands palmed your ass roughly, velvety skin yielding under calloused fingers. His touch was domineering as it traveled along the curve of your back, pushing up your skirt, still bunched around your waist.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades, inch toward your neck, fingers tangling harshly in your locks for a fleeting moment. Then he grasped your arm, pulling you up easily, his arm snaking around you, his palm flat against your sweat covered skin as his hand moved up encircling your throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. Your hands instinctively settled on his forearm for support as you struggled to keep up.  

The sound of wet slapping skin, the squelch as he drilled into you intensified in the position. His hand traveled up almost tenderly, cupping your face, turning you to him. His lips captured yours lazily, one of your hands shifted away from his arm, navigating to his nape, fingers tangling in his unruly hair.

The hand on your hip roamed down, fingers finding your clit. You spasmed and begged at the blitz of sensations. Thighs trembling, there was nothing you could do but hang on for dear life, your nails digging painfully in his forearm, in his neck as his pace fastened.

Your name passed his lips. “One more for me,” he pleaded, hot breath mixing with yours before biting hard on your shoulder. 

“Please, Zoro, fuck,” you sobbed in pleasure as you felt your orgasm rapidly build up.

His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken by your pleas. “Where do you want me to cum?” the urgency in his voice was apparent as he breathed out the question.

“In-inside,” you begged over and over.

He groaned at that, the idea clearly pleasing to him. “Shit,” his thrusts were sloppy, his hold on your body harder. “So fucking perfect for me.”

With a particularly hard flick on your clit, your mind went blank, body hard then limp, entirely supported by the swordsman’s strength as rapture filled you.

He kissed and marked you almost painfully as you came down from your high, walls spasming sporadically around him. He swore emphatically, your name uttered between each curse, before emptying out inside you, his loud moans muffled against your skin.

His movements gradually slowed. He placed a fond kiss on your shoulder, and you whimpered as he pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your thigh. He lowered you gently on the bed, following you as he dropped himself next to you.

Lying there in the aftermath, a sense of weightlessness enveloped you, leaving your mind blissfully devoid of thought. His arm rested heavily on your stomach, the sensation of damp skin against damp skin a tactile reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. Gradually, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With a tenderness that caught you off guard, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before trailing along your jawline. You watched him, a puzzled furrow creasing your brow, as he rose from the bed with a quiet grunt, pulling up his pants, still pooled around his ankles, before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"You said we should wash up," he grumbled in response, the sound of running water punctuating his words.

An amused snort escaped you. "Now? Really, Zoro?" You attempted to roll over, but your muscles felt weak, and you slumped back down in defeat.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his features as he observed your futile attempt. 

"Having some trouble?" he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he stalked to your side, the bed dipping under his weight as he settled himself between your legs. If you weren't so fucked out, the smugness in his tone might have elicited an eye roll, but instead, a small chuckle escaped your lips at his comment.

One of his hands went behind your knee, opening you up for him. The other went to your slit, a sharp hiss escaping your lips at the over sensitivity. His fingers traced the seed dripping out of you.

He swore under his breath, his gaze blown out as he met your eyes. 

“Don’t you dare,” you breathed out in a high-pitched whine, your hips arching away. “I’m too sensitive.”

His hand left your heat, slick fingers dragging up your thighs, bunching in the skirt still gathered at your waist.

He hummed in consideration, evidently wrestling with himself. "How do you take this off?" he asked, hovering uncertainly over the fabric of the waistband.

The smile that hit your lips was genuine as you looked at him. "The zipper's on the side, you moron," you replied, pointing lazily to the concealed closure.

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on your lips as his fingers grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down. His touch lingered on your skin, the kiss deepening. His name escaped you in a soft warning, prompting him to pull back, his lips parting from yours as he guided the fabric off, gently lifting your hips.

Gathering you into his arms, he held you close. "What's with all the tenderness, swordsman?" you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his neck. "I thought you only knew direct approaches."

"Careful, witch," he said, his tone somehow serious as he teased, his hands squeezing plush flesh as he buried his face in your hair. "If you keep this up, I'm bringing you back to bed."

Before you could offer a witty response, he gracefully lowered you into the welcoming embrace of the bathwater. Instantly, warmth enveloped you, coaxing the tension from your weary muscles. With a contented sigh, you reclined against the edge of the tub, allowing the soothing heat to work its magic.

As you relaxed, your gaze drifted to Zoro, who was now bending down to unlace his boots. The soft glow of the bathroom accentuated the contours of his muscular arms, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his skin. You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your features as you looked at the red marks plaguing his chest, his biceps. In that moment, he was nothing short of stunning, having you trapped and entranced as he undid his pants, kicked them off along with his boots. 

“Scoot,” he demanded with a cock of his head, his earrings glinting in the movement.

You raised a brow at his tone but still you obliged, shifting over. The water rose around you as Zoro settled in behind you, his presence adding to the comforting embrace of the bath.

As he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, you didn’t resist as you backed into his hold, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that surrounded you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby, calming your mind for a flicker of an instant.

For a while, you simply reveled in the blissful stillness of the moment, the only sound the soft murmur of the water as his hand traced up and down your arm in a mindless pattern and the quiet exhales of contentment that escaped you. 

“About Yokubari,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, laden with uncertainty.

You felt him tense behind you, his fingers coming to a halt. His lips brushed against the skin near your ear, a delicate, repentant gesture. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, his apology scarcely audible over the pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop.

You paused, grappling with the words on the tip of your tongue. “I won't deny that I'm still furious with you, Zoro,” you confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “But it wasn’t all you. I was tired and scared, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have left you alone with Yokubari like that, it was irresponsible on my part.”

There was a beat of silence, his lips trailing down your neck, over your shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left moments ago. His arms slid from the bath’s edge, sinking into the water and wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice grumbly and muffled against your skin. “You were right, I lost myself for an instant.”

You weren’t certain what it was you wanted to say, so you stayed quiet for a while. “Did you at least figure it out?” You asked eventually. 

One of his hands traveled up from your stomach tracing the curve of your breast, playing with your nipple absentmindedly. The other went to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh, his thumb moving in light circles. You felt his teeth sink in your neck.

“I figured out what I needed to,” he muttered halfheartedly as he kissed the bite mark tenderly.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. You let your head fall on his chest as you looked up at him. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” You pressed, your voice tinged with apprehension.

Zoro's grip tightened around you, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I meant... I learned enough to control it, to keep it from consuming me," he explained, his tone imbued with a mixture of reluctance and determination. "But whether I've completely figured it out... I haven’t." He paused, his gaze searching yours before he continued. "I tried figuring it out on the day you left but I haven’t touched it since. It felt wrong to handle it without you there. I gave you my word. I should have kept it better."

His hand traveled up, wrapping around your throat for a moment before turning your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re an idiot, swordsman,” your breath mingled with his.

His lips curved into a wry smile against yours, his grip gentle yet possessive as he deepened the kiss, seeking solace and reassurance in the warmth of your embrace. You sank into him, the tension of the past few days melting away with each caress, each shared breath.

“I am,” he admitted. His touch left your face, going back to your breast with more purpose, his hand inched towards your heat once again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“And you’re insatiable,” you complained in a whine, one of your hands flying to the bath’s edge to find purchase, the other settled on his leg at your side, nails digging hard.

His fingers met your core, opened you up, “I know,” he said with satisfaction dripping in his tone at the reaction of your body.

Bonus scene:

Roronoa Zoro found himself facing the consequences of his actions. The realization dawned on him that he had indeed messed up…bad. He hadn’t anticipated you staying away for so long—a thought that seemed absurd now as he reflected on it. With closed eyes, he furrowed his brow, attempting to will himself to sleep, though slumber had eluded him ever since you departed. His jaw clenched, the memory of the hurt in your eyes flickered behind his eyelids, haunting him relentlessly.

The abrupt slam of the door shattered the fragile peace of his solitude, and he fought the instinct to flinch, hoping to be left alone a moment more.

“Good, you’re awake,” Nami stated, her perceptive gaze cutting through his feigned slumber. “Follow me.”

He reluctantly cracked an eye open, a scowl of irritation etching his features. “I’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled, but the determined look in Nami’s stare made him concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

“Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly rising to his feet.

His footsteps stopped in front of the establishment, the realization of what Nami was trying to achieve downing on him. Had he known that the navigator was going to drag him all the way to you, he would have undoubtedly put up more of a fight. He tried to turn away but her hand grabbed him hard, pulling him with her. 

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up,” Nami urged, shoving him through the doorway of the bar. “I don’t know what you did, but apologize.”

With a pat on the back, she left him standing there, her words echoing in his mind.

He sighed, shifting uncertainly in the entryway, his gaze surveying the small, cozy space. Inevitably, he spotted you, leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation with someone he couldn’t quite see, a soft smile gracing your lips.

If he were honest, he had had every intention of apologizing in that moment. However, as he watched the young man lean closer to you, an unfamiliar pang of jealousy stirred within him. Rationality reminded him that you didn’t belong to him; you were your own person. Yet, as he witnessed the intimacy of the gesture, heard the clear din of your laughter ring through the chatter of the room, his frustration boiled dangerously. The countless apologies he had rehearsed over the past few days evaporated from his mind as he stormed to your side.

You had willfully ignored him from the moment you noticed his presence, your fury towards him still evident in the fire of your eyes. He sensed his own annoyance doubling at his inability to know how to handle the situation.

Yet, as your angry gaze had met his, he felt a rush of emotions flood over him—a mixture of longing and regret.

Damn it.

In the soft glow of the lanterns, you looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wanted nothing more than to pin you to that bar and kiss you dizzy. You snapped something at him, but he couldn't quite register the words amidst the whirlwind of unknown reactions coursing through him.

Before you could escape him again, he grasped your hand. A possessive hold that was unlike him.

“We’re going back to the ship,” He said, his voice feeling far away, as though it was someone else’s. Hell, even he realized how ridiculous he sounded when the words left his lips.

Fuck.

He didn’t even know how to get back to the ship. 

← Previous chapter | Next chapter →

Masterlist

[loveshotzz]

18+

Thinking about colors!older!steve on the fourth of july…

You’re over at his place, a yearly get together like christmas with him and Jenny. You two get to lounge in the pool while he gets to break out the grill.

He’s in nothing but his apron she got him last father’s day that says “Grill Master” and short blue swim trunks that stop right in the middle of his hairy thighs, with some white plastic birkenstocks on his feet. The colors make his tanned skin glow along with the sheen of sweat that coats it provided by the high hanging sun above.

You don’t know how thankful he is for the apron though especially today, because the tiny little swim suit you brought this year is going to haunt his every waking thought for at least the next two weeks.

The two of you sneak glances from across the back yard, and he thinks he might actually die when you decide to lounge on the floaty practically fully exposed to him. The water makes your swim suit cling to your curves like it’s suctioned to your body. Water dripping off your skin in beads collecting in the holes of the floaty, the slight breeze making your nipples peak. He can feel his jaw drop, quickly collecting himself when he catches the look on Jenny’s face.

You smirk eyes closed under your sunglasses, you don’t know what’s hotter the heat of his gaze or the summer day. Jenny scoff’s when Eddie Money starts playing over the speakers he installed a few years ago above their deck, interrupting the nap that was begging to take over in the gentle sway of the water. The high pitch ringing of her phone saving you both from her complaining as she clacks away in her flip flops to go talk to her boyfriend inside.

The silence is thick with tension that both of you have felt since last Christmas, a secret your best friend doesn’t know. He clears his throat and you roll off your floaty at the same time. The cold water soothes the damage the sun did, your sunglasses slipping off when you re-emerge.

His standing at the edge of the pool. Right in front of you.

His apron is slung over the patio chair behind him, giving you the perfect view of the lingering effects your have on him by how snug his trunks fit. The salt and pepper hair that covers the top of his chest curls with sweat, the muscles in his abs flexing when he can see how the water rolls down the swell of your breasts this angle. A deep sigh escaping through his nose.

“Honey.” It’s a warning.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington?” You bat your lashes, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth when you see the way the name makes his dick twitch.

He opens his mouth but whatever he’s about to say gets cut off by Jenny’s reappearance. His ears going red and eyes widening when you decide to push off the side of the pool floating on your back again at the same time.

“Are you getting in the water Dad?” She smiles brightly completely unaware of what’s happening under her nose.

He grumbles something about needing a drink, and maybe later before he disappears through the sliding door.

“I was gone for like 3 minutes, what’s his deal?” she asks annoyed reclaiming her spot next to the pool.

You just shrug, taking another few laps before you say you have to go to the bathroom. She doesn’t think anything of it too distracted by her phone again.

It takes him less than a minute to find you once you’re inside pulling you into his office. He doesn’t care that you’re dripping chlorine all over his hard wood floors, or how you shiver from the cold of the AC. Not when he’s got you propped on his desk buried between your legs with one large hand covering your mouth to block your moans from his daughter just outside the curtain covered window. Stretching you open more and more with each harsh thrust of his hips, till he feels the way you start fluttering around his dick. Your walls begging him for his release which he gladly gives you, filling you to the brim before he’s sliding your bottoms back in place not giving you the option to clean up.

[talesofesther]

is it too late to call you mine? | ch 2

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: In Sebastian's prettiest dreams, you'd wear a gown of a color that matched his tie, he'd take your hand and dance all night until morning came. But those dreams felt like a farfetched reality. Would you even consider going with him? As more than a friend?

A/N: Right I lied before, we're gonna have one more chapter for this story after this one lol. Written for @spaceyaceface's HL Writing Challenge. Hope you guys like it. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

"One would think that with a library of this size, the school would have more books about this," you mumbled under your breath, brushing your hand over the cover of the thick book to rid it of the dust.

Hogwarts library had to be one of the most enchanting libraries you've ever been to; with its tall dark wooden bookshelves, high windows, spiral stairs leading up to the second floor, paintings, warm orange lighting, and desks and armchairs scattered about for each student to read to their heart's content—it all made you adore spending hours in here. It was common for Sebastian to join you, you'd both sit together and exchange thoughts about the books you've been reading until Madam Scribner had to kick you out so you'd be back in your common rooms before curfew.

Today, however, you were alone; skimming between stacks of books which were mostly forgotten and had a layer of dust covering them.

The Yule Ball was less than a week away, and it only just occurred to you that you didn't know the first thing about dancing. At least not the kind of formal dancing that one does at an event like this, with a partner.

You stared down at the book in your hands for a few long seconds before closing your eyes with a sigh.

Praying that the single book you managed to find would help you, you turned around to make your way to Madam Scribner's desk so she could check out the book for you. Once you rounded a corner, however, you bumped straight into something firm and warm, a startled oof escaping your lips as your feet lost their balance.

Only it wasn't something, it was someone. Gentle hands quickly took hold of both your elbows so you wouldn't end up falling to the floor. When you finally looked up, you were met with a familiar array of freckles and a dazzling grin.

"Picking up a new book? Without me?" Sebastian slowly pried his hands from you, his dark eyes giving a quick glance up and down before he laid one palm over his chest; "I'm wounded."

You chuckled, your knuckles going white around the book because of how close he was standing. "I'm not picking up a new book… Well, I am," you hesitated, "but you won't be interested in this one, I'm sure."

Sebastian raised a curious eyebrow at you, the golden candlelights of the library shaping the outlines of his face and highlighting the auburn of his hair to perfection. "Oh? And what book might that be?"

You bit at the inside of your cheek, not directly answering him but loosening your grip on the book ever so slightly. There wasn't a thing you could hide from him anyway.

Reaching a hand out, Sebastian tilted the book away from where you held it against your chest, coming to stand right beside you so he could properly read what was on the cover. And you could suddenly feel the warmth radiating from his body; his shoulder brushing yours and raising goosebumps on your skin while your lungs already lacked air. You could hate Sebastian for the obvious effect he has on you.

"Dancing techniques through the ages?" Sebastian read the title of the book out loud, and when he turned to look at you, the expression on his face was nearly comical, "are you even interested in that?"

You gave him what was half a smile and half a grimace, hugging the book closer to your chest again and taking half a step away from him. If you weren't so flustered you probably would've noticed the slight bit of hurt that flashed through his eyes because of your movement. "Yes?" You tried, and then groaned, "not really, but I kind of have to read it."

"Why? I don't remember us having any classes on dancing," Sebastian shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"Yeah, I know, I know," you sighed, then closed your eyes as you spoke, much quieter; "it's because of the Ball."

"The… Ball? Why would you-" Sebastian cut himself off when he finally understood, he hesitated, his plump lips hovering for just a second, "oh, you don't-"

"No, I don't know how to dance," you huffed, feeling your cheeks immediately warming up. You avoided Sebastian's eyes then. There was really no reason to feel ashamed, dancing wasn't a skill everyone was expected to have. Yet, you couldn't help but feel at least a little self-conscious under the gaze of those dark eyes.

"And you expect to learn that from a book?" The smile could be heard clearly in Sebastian's voice; not mocking, at least not your lack of skill, maybe just your choice of a solution.

You glanced up at him again, raising your eyebrows as if to say; 'yeah, what of it?'.

An amused chuckle stumbled past his lips just before his cheek molded back to that smirk of his. "It's like learning to duel by reading a book about it. Doesn't work."

More often than not, Sebastian frustrated you to no end. It was just his luck that he looked damn good while doing it. "How else am I supposed to learn anything about it, Sebastian? The Ball is in less than a week." You argued, dropping the book on top of the nearest table as you grew restless.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a few beats, his lower lip stuck between his teeth as he apparently mulled over his next words. "I could teach you… If you'd like."

He refused to look you straight in the eye as he spoke, and you doubt you'd ever heard him sound this… timid. Hesitant. Changing his weight from one foot to the other as he picked at a loose thread on his sweater while waiting for your answer.

Sebastian was nervous.

"You know how to dance?" You were surprised at how your own voice sounded somewhat shy. The thought of Sebastian teaching you—his hands holding you close, guiding your movements; his body close to yours, personal space forgotten—made you feel all warm.

Sebastian hummed, his teasing smile making an appearance again, "you pick up a thing or two if you attend enough parties. I could teach you the basics at least, you won't be completely at a loss of what to do then."

You breathed in deeply, pursing your lips as you nodded. "Alright." It was a much better option than just reading a book about it anyway.

"Alright," Sebastian repeated after you, his throat working through a gulp, "meet me near the Undercroft entrance after curfew tonight."

"Not in the Undercroft?" You frowned.

"Not quite," his sultry voice kissed your ears, "no music in the Undercroft, after all."

── ·❆· ──

The hallways of the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower were completely empty as you walked, the pristine tiles reflecting each of your steps. It was past 10 PM and the moon was high in the sky, you could only hope you wouldn't run into any of the ghosts… again.

Sebastian waited for you with his back leaning against the wall near the Undercroft, just as he said. His arms were crossed over his chest as his foot tapped the ground rhythmically. He perked up once he laid eyes on you, a gentle and sincere smile coming to his lips.

"Ready for some dance lessons, my lady?" He asked in an over-the-top courteous voice that got you endearingly rolling your eyes.

"As I'll ever be," you smiled softly then, feeling your hands growing a bit sweaty, "thank you for doing this, by the way."

Sebastian only shook his head, his own smile still playing on his lips. He avoided your eyes, "don't mention it," he told you quietly, before pushing himself off the wall and walking past you, "come on then."

You followed Sebastian up the stairs, trailing behind him until a gentle, familiar classical tune reached your ears. He lead you to the enchanted violins and cello that were constantly playing in the tower, and now you finally understood why he said 'not in the Undercroft'.

"I suppose it's close enough to what will be playing in the Ball," Sebastian gestured to the enchanted instruments.

You chuckled, taking half a step closer to him, "clever."

As the soft melody swirled around you, the air seemed to shift between you and Sebastian. Different from the usual commotion during the day, the DADA tower was entirely too calm tonight; dimly lit as it was bathed in various shades of golden coming from the candlelights that reflected against the polished floor, completely devoid of any presence save for you and him—what once reminded you of Professor Hecat's assignments, now felt like a private ballroom, tailor-made to hold this moment alone.

Sebastian cleared his throat. You wondered if he felt the shift too. "Right so, in a dance, you'll want to be as relaxed as possible, trying to move in sync with your partner," he told you, "I doubt that-" he hesitated then, words seemingly heavy on his tongue, "I doubt that Weasley is much of a dancer, so if you know a basic waltz it should be more than enough."

There was something about the way the candlelights shone against Sebastian's features, all soft and pretty, turning his expression into something akin to adoration. For you.

Your heart was suddenly in your throat. Sebastian's stare was almost too much. You'd gladly drown in that 'too much'. It holds you hostage, pierces like the afternoon sun.

"May I?" He asked, one hand outstretched, waiting for your permission to hold your waist.

You only nodded, not trusting your voice.

Sebastian looked as nervous as you felt, and you didn't want to dwell on why that was. Not now.

With a delicacy only you had the privilege of knowing, Sebastian placed a hand on your waist; the other finding your own hand so he could intertwine your fingers with his. His chest was a hair's width away from touching yours.

Your free hand came to rest on his shoulder then, as if your souls were always meant to be this entangled. You refused to look him straight in the eyes, praying that he wouldn't feel the shaking of your fingers when you squeezed his hand.

"Relax," Sebastian whispered, his voice so close to your ear that it sent shivers down your spine.

But the shaking of the syllables betrayed his own statement. Sebastian's hand on your waist tightened its grip, as his mind drowned in the possibility of you and him. Here, in this fraction of a moment, with your heartbeat following the rhythm of his own, the dream felt almost within reach.

You didn't know, but every minute with you was torture for him. Every minute you dangled something in front of him, something he knew was unattainable.

Every minute that you weren’t his was another droplet from his bleeding heart.

"What now?" you breathed suddenly, quiet as to not break the peaceful bubble around you, yet still startling him back to reality.

Several emotions were swimming behind Sebastian's eyes then, too many for you to put a finger in any of them. A soft blush formed under his freckles, barely noticeable against the faint candlelights.

But you saw it. There was a beat before either of you said anything, a beat where you just looked at each other, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way.

"Right, it's not hard," Sebastian straightened in his posture, adjusting your joined hands as he took one deep breath, "just try to follow me, slowly, from one side to another."

Surprisingly, Sebastian was quite a skilled dancer. At first, he did most of the work, guiding your body through each step and turn, getting you comfortable until you were aware enough to follow him quicker and on your own. And you found that it was easy to follow him; your feet, hips, and hands complemented his movements as if you were one.

You weren't sure how long it had been, all you knew was that Sebastian's hands were warm on you, your body feeling as light as a feather as you waltzed around the empty tower. Any tension any of you had felt before was long gone now. Sebastian's smile was soft and his chuckles were a music better than the one of the enchanted violins. Your soul moved in tandem with his and your bold hands pulled his body closer to yours.

If anyone were to glance, you two could easily be mistaken for the dancing ghosts that sometimes appeared around the castle.

"I think it's safe to say you're a natural," Sebastian said in between laughs, amused at the way you were dragging him around now.

You felt the squeeze of his hand on your waist, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. "It's much more fun than I thought it would be," you told him, just a little breathless. "But I had a good teacher too, I suppose," you teased, tilting your head with a smirk.

You let go of his shoulder then, allowing him to twirl you around and then straight back into his arms. This simple night turned into a moment you'd be happy to live in forever.

Sebastian's own smile gets a little loose and gone when you do this—staying too close, smiling at him, touching—but you seem oblivious to it.

Whatever the future may hold, he was happy to say you were his; if only for this night.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @auxiliare @arawai

[shadowhaert]

hi everyone! i've been asked for a tutorial on how i did the light effect here so im going to put one under the cut. this tutorial assumes you know how to use photoshop and how to utilize timeline

for this tutorial we are using these two gifs from a celebration set (sorry about the watermarks, i do NOT trust people to not steal plain gifs)

we are also going to be using this light leak as an example. most light leaks will work as long as there's an almost entirely white point within it. you can either screen record or download, however you normally make your gifs should be the way you acquire the video.

now, to start, blend your gifs however you want. sharpening, coloring, and blending should all come before anything else, so go about it as you normally would. once you are finished with each one, make each one into a smart object by selecting all layers -> right click -> convert to smart object. you should have one purple item in your timeline and nothing else. make sure each blended gif is no more than 2:00fps just to make sure the size isn't too large (since we are combining these gifs, we will be multiplying 2:00 to make 4:00, which is a large gif already. watch your sizes.

next, you're going to want to put both gifs into one document. do not blend or overlay them, they need to stay separate. whichever one you choose to be on top should overlap the bottom gif just slightly for what we're doing later.

go ahead and gif your light leak and follow the same process of converting it into a smart object once you're finished coloring/sharpening/etc. then drag it over to your document with your other two gifs and put it on top. change your settings to screen instead of normal.

now it gets a little more complicated; not that it's hard, it's just tedious. in your timeline, make sure that second blended gif (in this case, the yellow one) is overlapping just slightly, as i mentioned. in the left toolbar of your timeline is a square with a white triangle and a black triangle inside. this is where you find transitions. we need to insert a fade to the beginning of the second blended gif, so click fade and drag it over to the gif in the timeline. you can adjust the speed of this fade by dragging the gray triangle it creates. just make sure that the end of your fade does not go over the end of your bottom gif, as this will create a transparent screen effect which will mess it up.

we are going to do the exact same fade effect on the light leak gif, but we are going to do a fade intro and a fade outro. click and drag the fade option twice, once to the beginning and once to the end.

again, you can make these fades as long or as short as you want, just keep in mind your file size. a transition like this with two blended gifs will take up a lot of space.

on the light leak gif, i have timed it so that the brightest part of the gif is between my intro fade and outro fade, and it is also right on top of the second gif's intro fade, as seen above. this will give the effect of blending into the light, as seen below.

now you're done! i know this is not the best tutorial and i'm sure there are better ones out there, but this is the way i taught myself to do it, so if you are not able to find a better tutorial this is a great place to start. it's not a perfect transition by any means, mostly due to the lack of full light in the section of the leak that i picked, but it's perfect for practicing and finding what you like and dislike about the process and the result.

[agentstarkid]

This little story turns one year old this July 31st!

We hopped with Girlie on a rollercoaster of finding (true) love, being quarantined in a foreign country, lots of internet meanies, making new friends, angst, heartbreak, depresh sesh, finding love again and so much more to come -- What a wild journey it's been, and I'm so proud I took the leap!

Looking back a year ago, I can't believe how far this story and I have come. I remember being so full of uncertainty and nerves to post that first chapter, and now, a whole year later, I'm writing little blurbs and one-shots in a whole different language to my main one.

And to celebrate this milestone with you guys, the DAN-Y/N stans out there, and as a thank you for all these 365 days of support and love to Danielito & Girlie's love story—a.k.a. my baby—, I put together a list of dialogue prompts from where you can pick one—or as many as you'd like—and send it to me so I can write a little blurb to go with it!

You can request a specific moment on the fic you'd like to see more (c'mooooon, they were together for 2 whole years! Let's see if you've been paying attention hehe), or just make a general request with a quote of your choice (or you can suggest one! Can't promise much on this, but I'd try my best to bring it to life, unless it is smut. I can't write smut for shitzels yet soz).

I'll be accepting resquests for the next 2 weeks!

✧. ┊ Series Masterlist

P.S. Fingers crossed next month I can—finally—post a new chapter! Adult life has been kicking my ass these past months so please be patient with me! — But my inbox is always open to talk! :)

— All the dialogue sources are linked!

“These are way too many, omg, I’m being squeezed by these pillows, love!” “Well I just, you know, thought that since you like to hold on to me while you sleep but we can’t do that right now, I decided to bring you all these.” “Aww, I appreciate it, baby, but would you mind moving some? And even though I do have these, I will miss your warmth beside me.” 

“You weren’t uncomfortable back there, right? I just wanted to make sure you were all right.” “No, no, I wasn’t. Thank you for doing that.”

"You had no business looking that good back there."

"Those could be our kids one day." "What...?" 

“They don’t know you, love. They don’t know how much we love each other. Let them think what they want to. It doesn’t matter, you know why? Because you are enough. We are enough.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, sweetheart. I want you to be who you are.”

“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d like this, so I just bought all the colors they had there.”

“Stoooop. Stop making me all…” “All… what?”

“Sorry. I just... like seeing that I have an effect on you, I guess.”

“Life would suck complete testicles if it weren’t for you.” 

“I like seeing you this way. so… at ease. makes me wonder how anyone could ever purposely put you under stress and live with themselves afterwards.”

"I know you're struggling right now, and it's okay, okay? We'll get through this."

“With you, I see a forever I’ve never envisioned before. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s more because I wasn’t able to… At least until I met you.”

“God, I really don’t want to leave”.

“I’m so deftly terrified of falling in love. Because what if I end up with a broken heart? That thought itself is just so scary to me. I want to, but I can’t get over that fear.” “Then how about you let me be that first step you take into falling in love? I can help you get over that fear, if you’d let me.” 

“People say they fall in love like they fall asleep — slowly, then all at once. But the way I fell for you can only be described as that feeling when you’re drifting off to sleep, only to feel like you’re falling, oh-so-suddenly. So suddenly that it ends up startling you awake; heart racing in your chest because it feels like you fell off the precipice of a cliff. It’s quick and sudden, and there’s no slowness to it. It’s a crash and burn type of love that I feel.”

“They say the second time’s the charm.” “Was the first time not charming enough for you?” “No, but the second time’s going to be even better, I promise.” 

“If people can hate for no reason,  then I can love for no reason too.”

“I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. Not when it’s you.”

“I don’t know how to ask for help i just— I’ve never had anyone to ask for help from before.  so…this is me trying i guess.  I need it and i’m afraid to ask for it.  That's the best I can do.”

“You really think a relationship should be that hard?” “No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.”

“If you don’t kiss me, right now…” “Then what?” “Then I will have to do it myself.”

"I think destiny wants us to be together, and you should never argue with destiny.”

“What do you think is our song?”

“I can’t concentrate, when you look at me like that.” “Well, you should be concentrating on me instead, so…”

“Sing for me.” “What would you like to hear?”

“I feel like I can breathe better with you around.”

“You’re much better off without me.” “You’re not the judge of that.”

“I love you, okay?! And I can’t stay in your life when I’m just ruining it.” “You can’t just say that and don’t wait for me to answer.”

“Your mom is coming over today.” “Tell her to bring fried rice or she’s not invited.” “You tell her, she’s your mom.” “But she likes you more!”

“Wait, you can’t swim?” “I was always more into sports on land where, you know, I can’t drown.” “I will teach you!”

“Every night before bed I write three good things that happened to me. And every night I find myself writing down your name.”

“God, don’t do that. You’re going to make me go on Santa’s naughty list tonight.”

“This heart belongs to you, and only you. And I’d hope you want to keep it for a very, very long time.”

“What matters isn’t the place, but the person you’re with at that place. So this is to say, being with you is enough for me. So long as you are there, then all is well.”

“If you don’t wanna spend the night in a empty house, you could always come over to mine.” 

"Hey, i think i can fit over here in this corner." "What are you, a plant?" "Maybe. you shine on me every day, after all."

“I don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“You get to curl up in my lap, and I get to watch a cinematic masterpiece in peace and quiet. i think this is a pretty sweet deal.”

“This is your home, just as it is mine.”

“That was your master plan? Really?” “No, my master plan was having no plan actually.”

“When life gives you lemons, squirt the juice into your enemies’ eyes and watch them whimper.”

“Maybe i'm too late to be your first, but right now, i'm preparing myself to be your last.”

“Over everything, I choose you.”

“You’ve given me so many memories, I'd hate it if you become one”

“I hope you heal from the things you dont wanna talk about”

“I was gonna marry her…”

“Because you always been my ticket home…”

“Have you ever gone stargazing?” “yeah, i’ve seen your eyes a few times.”

"Oh God- why are you half-naked?" "nothing you haven't seen before, love" "it's freezing, go put on a shirt-" "Nah, you can warm me up." 

“You never have to fear that you’re losing me.”

“Aw, you brought out the smile.” “Which smile?” “The one reserved for the people you love.” “How could you even tell?” “Because that’s how you smile at me.”

“No, you’re not allowed to smile at me like that.”

“This is not some predestined soulmate shit or fate or whatever. I love you all on my own. Because you’re awesome and because I want to.”

“You know, I prefer you naked, but that dress also looks breathtaking on you.”

“Believe in the me that believes in you”

“Work can wait. You need rest.”

“I got the recipe from your mom, i hope i did it justice.”

“I think i deserve a cuddle for letting you stick your icy little feet on me all night.”

“Ok…so, umm I made this playlist for our first month anniversary. I hope it’s not too bad!” “Omg, this is- I can’t believe it! I always wanted someone to make me a playlist!” 

“You already are a handful. Together, you guys are insufferable.”

“I’m right here.”

“Careful, or I will fall for you.” “You’ll be fine. I’ll buy you some knee pads.” “Knee pads but no helmet?” “If you’re falling for me, you’ve already taken a hit to the head.”

“Uh-oh.” “What’s wrong?” “That’s their ‘oh, you messed with the wrong bitch, bitch’ face.”

“You look like an idiot.” “You know, other people would say it’s nice to see me so happy. Or that I have a beautiful smile.”

“I’ve never seen you this happy before.”

“(Congrats.) You’re one of us now.”

“Please, never apologise for wanting to be loved.”

“Come on. I’ll show you how to dance”

"Are you still mad at me? I mean, it's okay if you are. I'm mad at myself, too."

"Put your head on my lap and sleep a little."

 “I don’t want to go to bed angry…can we please talk about this?” 

“Your cheeks are really soft.” “Stop squishing them!”

“You didn’t have to do anything…” “But i wanted to.”

[zerofuckingwaste]

Easy zero waste tip no. 6: Find out what caffeinated beverage you actually want/need, then learn how to make it; aka "The Starbucks Lie"

Tl;Dr: You may be misinformed about how coffee actually works, leading you to purchase beverages that you may not actually like, that may not serve the purpose you want them to serve, and you can save money (and the environment!) by learning to make something you'll actually like at home.

Last week, I went to Starbucks to get a pumpkin chai latte, because I'm not perfect and needed to fulfill a craving on a bad day- but at least I used a reusable cup. Anyhow, while I was there, I witnessed the following conversation, not for the first time, nor the last, which I'm sure is commonplace:

Barista: What can I get you?

Customer: Do you have a dark roast? I like my coffee dark.

B: We just have a medium roast ready, but I can do a dark roast pourover.

C: Nah, that's not going to be enough caffeine for me, and I need drip coffee, not anything fancy. I'll have an Americano, then- espresso beans should be high enough in caffeine!

Now, if this seems like a reasonable exchange, that's ok- you're likely not a trained barista, and even if you are, there's a chance your training was at least a little bit wrong. Let's walk through it point by point, to explain why this exchange made me want to tear my hair out of my head.

"I like my coffee dark!" Most likely, this is false- studies have shown that people are most likely to say they want dark coffee, when they actually most enjoy a lighter or medium roast. Darker roasts are bitter, partially due to having more tannins- which is why they can cause more side effects, like headaches and digestive issues.

"Not enough caffeine" In fact, the longer (darker) you roast coffee, the more caffeine it loses. If you want a highly caffeinated beverage, you should opt for the lightest roast available.

"I need drip coffee, not anything fancy (pourover)" Pourover is essentially a method of making drip coffee one cup at a time. No machine or anything, it's the least fancy coffee option possible.

"Espresso beans should have high enough caffeine" The beans used for espresso are the same as the beans used for the drip coffee- they're just ground more finely before going through the machine.

"An Americano [...] should have enough caffeine" An Americano is a double shot with hot water, about 160 mg of caffeine if you're getting a 'grande'. A drip coffee that same size is over 300 mg.

This man claimed to love coffee, but didn't understand anything about it, leading him to pay $4.39 for 160 mg of caffeine instead of $3.28 for almost double that- keeping in mind that number could easily have been doubled again had he opted for the lighter roast. So, let's fix that.

1. Light or Dark Roast?

Have you ever wondered why Starbucks has a medium roast, the Pike Place, as their go to roast all the time? It's because it's the most middle of the road, bland option, completely inoffensive- not very good, but also, not too bad. It's a blend from a bunch of places, so there's no overwhelming flavor besides coffee with a slight hint of being burned. That burn taste everyone complains about, btw, is a result of the roast being too dark for them, hello tannins!

A lot of things happen to coffee as you roast it. Let's go through each point one by one:

The color changes. The darker the roast, the darker the roast- literally. This is best gauged with ground coffee, where you can see the average of the whole bean, not just the outer shell.

The mass decreases due to a loss of moisture. However, the bean actually expands in volume due to the strength of the cell walls. In essence, the density decreases.

Oils seep out from inside of the beans, coating them, and protecting volatile chemical compounds that give them flavor.

The caffeine content is lessened the longer you roast.

With high heat, the Maillard reaction occurs. While this reaction is responsible for the lovely color and the viscous, dark flavor notes, it's also responsible for breaking down the citric and tartaric acid, which causes the sweet and fruity flavors to dissipate. It also breaks down chlorogenic acid, creating caffeic acid and quinic acid, aka bitter, bitter tastes.

High heat also causes caramelization of sugars- but at a certain point, those sugars start to burn away.

Taking all this into consideration, we can begin to figure out what kinds of coffee you'll actually like. One quick note: always get single origin coffees. Each region has its own flavors, and if you're only getting coffee from one spot in your cup, then those notes will be amplified for your enjoyment.

A dark roast will have less caffeine, a stronger coffee bitterness, and very simple, up front flavors: chocolate, nuts, smoke, wood, etc. (My favorite tastes like dark chocolate with a hint of hickory)

A light roast will have more caffeine, a lesser amount of bitterness, and very complex, more nuanced flavors: citrus, caramels, fruits, florals, etc. (My favorite tastes like blueberries and white chocolate, with notes of almonds)

No two coffees are alike. My recommendation is that you purchase a bag of whole beans from your favorite local cafe or roaster based on your caffeine needs, and try out different beans until you find one- or two, or five, or a dozen- that you really love.

One quick note- a much, much greater flavor difference can be found in aerobic v. anaerobic roasted beans. I recommend reading into this process on your own, it's fascinating- both of my favorite coffees are anaerobic roasts, as it happens.

2. How should I make my coffee?

I'm a big fan of the affogato. I'm a dessert for breakfast kind of gal, so it makes sense; a hefty double shot over a scoop of ice cream. Absolutely divine; I pretty much only do espresso for myself, although my partner greatly prefers French press.

The overall rule for caffeine in your coffee is that the finer the grind, the more caffeine you're going to get out of the bean. That being said, that doesn't mean the final product will actually have more caffeine than another method, as different ways of making coffee require different amounts of coffee grounds. Keep the ratio of grounds to water in mind for this reason. However, you must remember that the perceived strength of the beverage- the concentration of flavors- is not necessarily correlated to the amount of caffeine. I'll now go over a few methods of making coffee which can be 100% zero waste (assuming you compost those coffee grounds!).

Cold Brew- You either let grounds freely float in water, or let them steep inside of a little filter bag. Let it rest overnight, up to 48 hours. If you like your coffee cold, and not a lot of effort, this might be your best bet.

Pourover- You put grounds into a little filter over either your cup or a pitcher. Pour water over the filter and let it drip down. If you like having a calming morning ritual, this might be for you. Essentially the same as drip coffee, except you don't have to care about a machine.

French press- You put grounds in the bottom of the press, then fill with hot water, and let it steep for a few minutes, then press the grounds down. If you don't mind a little work every morning, waiting a few minutes (when you could prep your breakfast, perhaps) then give this a go.

Moka pot- You pour water into the base, then put grounds into the basket, then screw on the top. Place on the stovetop, and remove as soon as the coffee begins to come out of the spout within. If you like a strong cup but don't want to invest in espresso, this is a great option. The pressure is too low for it to be true espresso, but it's very good.

Manual espresso- This is a bit more complex. It will be the same as automatic espresso, except there's no chance of the machine failing for any electronic reason. You fill a little basket with grounds, then tamp them down. Water is brought to temperature, then pressed through the espresso at a relatively high psi. If you want espresso, this is the way. You can get an entry level (Flair makes several that are fantastic) or you can get something high end with a built in boiler (I have a La Pavoni with an attached steam wand, great purchase).

Automatic espresso- Essentially the same as manual, but the machine does the pressing for you. If you love espresso but don't want to do a lot of work for it, this is a great investment! If you can buy used, do- just make sure the brand is one that offers replacement parts.

There are plenty of other options, but these are a good place to get started, when figuring out what works for you.

3. Why do I want my coffee?

Are you looking for a caffeine boost to get through a rough workday? Do you want something sweet to accompany your breakfast? Are you just bored?

Figure out why you want your coffee, then tailor your morning experience to your needs. If you need a caffeine boost for a rough workday, maybe don't do anything time consuming- prepare a middle of the road medium roast cold brew for the week on Sunday, and go ahead and grab a glass in your hurry out the door each morning. If you want something sweet with breakfast, get a light roast and a French press, and make it part of the routine for the meal. If you're bored, do pourover with a dark roast into a funky mug, or learn to steam milk to make latte art.

Really, coffee is something lovely, that you should enjoy, without mindlessly spending money on something that's not even good. As a bonus, you can support local businesses (coffee roasters and cafes), develop a new skill, and better the environment.