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#/ and that's *hard* to do when you consider my other muses
cal-writes · 2 days
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some superpower/superhero au musings. that ideas been floating around my brain for a while. dont know where its going you know how my plot bunnies are but enjoy this sampler
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"Have you figured it out yet, Surgeon?" Robin smiles serenly. She sits on the stairs, knees knocking together, her elbows resting on them and her chin propped up on both her palms.
He scowls at her, eyes narrowed. Law knows what she means but he won't admit it because it would reveal himself to be knowable. "What do you mean?" He juts out his chin.
She doesn't buy his feigned obliviousness but she humors him. "Zoro's abilities. You have been trying to discern their nature, have you not?"
He exhales through his nose and looks off to the side.
"He would tell you if you asked." Robin continues and Law glances at her from the corner of his eyes.
"I know." He says. Zoro has said as much. But Law isn't going to ask, at least not yet. It's a matter of personal pride and spite. Law doesn't owe people favors, they owe him favors. He demands answers, he doesn't ask for them. (Bepo would be telling him how unhealthy that is right about now if he were here.)
Robin considers him, head leaning to the side. She hums. Out of all the Strawhats, Robin is the person Law would consider his equal in temperament which is to say, out of all of them he is the most cautious around her. From what redacted history of hers that he has managed to unearth, he knows they've had a similar development. She is calculating. Always listening, even without sprouting ears everywhere. He needs to consider his words carefully.
"You are a curious man." She tells him, chuckling good-naturedly.
Law looks at her from above. "In more ways than one." His lips pull into a sharp smirk.
"Indeed." Robin says easily. "Have you made headway in your discoveries?"
Law squints at her, trying to gauge her angle. She might be simply curious - which Law believes to be the least likely. It could be a test, trying to see if he lives up to his reputation - possible, thought Robin seems largely desinterested in people she doesn't consider to be a threat (an insulting prospect in its own right, that Law is no longer considered dangerous to her, but he did work hard to earn their trust so he supposes it is to be expected). Maybe it's caution - there is a reason Zoro's abilities aren't public. Many people with abilities don't bother hiding the intricacies if they even can. But Zoro does. Whether that is for his own safety or someone else's is yet to be determined. 
"Some, I'd say." Law admits, trying to sound casual. Whatever Zoro's talents are they are subtle. He can rule out a healing factor definitively - even if it weren't a passive ability but one Zoro had to use consciously, Chopper is too concerned for him every time he is injured for there to be an easy fix. He has considered some form of super strength but ultimately ruled it out. Zoro was strong, occasionally supernaturally so but it was inconsistent. Law's leading theory on that front was some sort of adrenaline manipulation that would grant Zoro the ability of hysterical strength on command. He has yet to confirm that theory. The easiest would be to ask for blood samples but even with everything, Law knows they aren't quite there yet.
Other possibilies are some sort of enhancement, be that in reflexes or speed or general aptitute. Zoro is - as his alias suggests -  a demon with a weapon and almost impossible to beat one on one. He is fast but Law wouldn't say unhumanly so. A common public theory is that - as his name suggests - Zoro was either posssessed by or possessing someone and the otherworldly entity of whichever nature granted him his abilities.
Law had dismissed that one easily. Possession would indicate different personalities and quirks but Zoro's body language and fighting style are consistent - even when using something other than a sword. If he was possessed it was permanent.
He had considered the possibility that Zoro was normal. Well, as normal as any of them. Many of his talents could be chalked up to rigerous training and experience. Perhaps he had started young, had the natural talent and dedication to keep up to speed with other super powered individuals. From knowing the man, Law can entertain the idea. But there are too many things that trip him up. Too many things that don't make sense if Zoro truly had no other abilities.
Law has been staying with the Strawhats for a few weeks now and there are some things he has taken note off. Pieces of the puzzle he is sorting into piles before he knows where they connect.
Zoro trains, a lot. Both with weapons and without to the point that Law is quite sure that whatever ability he has is unrelated to his weapons. He's just as dangerous with his swords as he would be with Nami's staff. It's not a surprise. Zoro takes a lot of pride in his body and his prowress.
More confusing are Zoro's other eccentricities.
Zoro doesn't touch things. Law is almost mad it took him so long to take note of it. Obviously there are times when Zoro does. Out in the battlefield, doorknobs, light switches. Technically, literally, he does touch things. But at home, in the space he feels safe, Zoro goes out of his way to avoid touching things. Law would believe him to be a germophobe of some sort if he hadn't seen the man lick blood of his sword. So, no. It's probably not about germs. He just doesn't touch things in a casual way. He doesn't read books or magazines, doesn't use a phone, at most he will make himself tea or pour himself a glass of something to drink. He doesn't cook, nor does he do the dishes. For all Zoro and Sanji bicker constantly, Sanji always prepares his meals, even small snacks and doesn't nag him for not cleaning up after himself.
It might be a trauma response. Maybe he is sensitive to textures for unrelated reasons. Law can't quite define what to make of it yet.
Another thing is that none of Zoro's clothes are store bought. It seems innocuous but once Law noticed it, he could not let go of it. The Strawhats were vigilanties so money could be tight on occasion but he knows they aren't above stealing if they need or want to. None of the others seem to have a similar clothing style. Nami in particular wears fancy brands and designer clothing constantly. So it's not a matter of supply. Zoro isn't so vain he would be particular about it either. Law has seen him wear all number of things, especially if a battle dragged on long enough to destroy his wardrobe. He isn't opposed to wearing regular manufactured clothes. He just doesn't if he has the choice not to.
Perhaps it ties into the texture thing. Law will have to pay close attention to it.
Robin is still looking at him, unpreturbed by his long pause. "If you need a hint, do let me know," He scowls and it makes her chuckle. "It's quite entertaining." She says.
"Glad to be of service." He grits out.
"I am just wondering why go through the trouble. It must be thrilling to you to try and unravel the mystery." Robin tells him and Law's breath stalls in his throat. Something in her tone makes him feel warm.
He swallows hard. "Hardly a mystery. An annoyance, more like." He says, dismissively. Robin makes an inquiring sound. "I need to know what you all are capable of to make plans. Keeping it a secret needlessly complicates things."
"But it's not a secret." Robin says, bemused and Law feels himself bristle.
"It's not exactly common knowledge either." He throws back.
Robin hums again. "I suppose not but if you are expecting a grand reveal, I am afraid you will be disappointed."
"Zoro already said it's not what I'd expect." Law says. Zoro technically said 'it's not a big deal' which hadn't been helpful at all. If it wasn't a big deal, why make a thing out of it?
"That is apt. I remember being quite surprised when I was told." She says and now Law knows she's teasing him. This whole conversation is pointless.
He huffs. "I'll find out, won't I?"
Robin smiles. "Will you?"
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k6ssbxnny · 2 hours
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MDNI!!! Explicit content ahead.
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Sleazy mechanic! Toji hears the low, scratchy rumble of tire and gravel closing in on his shop late at night and his first reaction is to roll his eyes in annoyance. Though sweaty n tired from working all day, he surges with energy when he catches sight of a you, doey eyes wet with tears, huffing and stuttering and babbling about some weird smoke puffing out from your car, how you're out here all alone, how you can't fix it no matter how hard you try, how this is all the money you have, and you really, really need help -
"'S not enough, little lady," he shrugs, knowing damn well it's plenty enough, sticking the wad of cash back in your manicured hands, wondering how they'd look wrapped around his fat cock.
"It's hard work fixin' a car this fucked, y'know?" It's not, he just likes how your tits bounce when you pace in a panic. Cute.
And you're begging and begging, pleading with him about how afraid you are of your weird, messed up car, how the only places to stay nearby are sketchy looking motels with broken doors and soiled beds, how you'll do just about anything, anything if it means he'll fix your car!
"S'pose I could make an exception, pretty girl," he muses, pretending to mull over your pleas as if he hadn't made up his mind the second he saw your ass,  "payment doesn't always have t'be in cash, right?"
And then you're squirming, thighs squished together as you get all slippery n sticky, whining for a bit of friction all from sucking his cock, nose pressed tight into his messy pubes as he sinks himself into your warm, wet mouth, bunching a fistful of your hair as he pumps into you, balls against your drool-slick chin, trying not to cum too quick. For a minute, he really does consider simply painting your pretty face, prying your mouth open and smearing his cum on your tongue with the chubby head of his thick dick. But then he sees your arched back, pushing the fat of your ass into your heels where you kneel, and he knows he can't just waste his cum on your mouth.
So he has you trapped and bent, on all fours like a bitch in heat, whimpering and mewling nonsense about how he's "too big", and that "i-it won't fit, c-can't, won't go in, please, I'll use my mouth!"
"Dunno, missy," he leers, pushing your head down with one hand and cupping a handful of your pudgy ass cheek with the other, so he can get a clear view of your sticky cunt, swollen and dribbling for attention. "Seems t'me that she thinks I'll fit." His lips curl into a lazy grin as he splits your slit with a thick thumb.
Your mouth pulls open into a soundless gasp when he bullies the head of his cock into you. There's nothing you can do except feel it, feel the stretch as he opens you up for him and he warmth of his chest as he mounts you, pushing you tight against the ground as he connects himself to you. He's rough: hard, slow, taking the time to pull his entire length out of you, linked to your pussy by a mere thread of precum, before stretching you open all over again, breaching your hole as you lose the ability to breathe properly, to think at all, reduced to all but a squealing, babbling mess, "f-faster, ah... t-too much! H-hard... s'good, m-mister Toji!"
You can't help but sink under the weight of his pounding, his heavy thrusts pushing your messy thighs apart as he beats himself into the space between your legs, calloused hands squeezing and teasing your tits.
"Don't run," he grunts, pulling your hips back to meet his pelvis as he stuffs you full, relishing in the feeble squeak that leaves your lips when he holds you still, forcing you in place while he slams into your hole, faster and faster - messier - as he nears his climax. He snakes a strong hand from your chest to your stomach, then down to your clit, rolling the puffy bud, rotating between soft, tantalizing touches and harsh, nearly sadistic pinches. You egg him on with your helpless cries, shivering and moaning some nonsense about how you "c-can't take it anymore, ah- ah! Gonna - mhm - g'nna cum!"
You clench around him so tight, pussy pulsing on him with so much strength that he gives into you wholly, prying your legs apart as he pushes his tip right up against your cervix, allowing himself the pleasure of a quiet, slight groan just before he spills into you, so much, and so heavy, and so thick that you can feel your insides twisting and churning from the impact of his dick, still throbbing into you.
When he pulls out, he makes sure to sit back on his heels, enjoying the look of his handiwork as you crawl and twitch aimlessly, semen filling the slit between your legs and dribbling lewdly over your lips, making a slow, sticky way down the fat of your welted thighs.
You look sweet, he thinks. He'll make sure to taste test you next time.
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© 2024 k6ssbxnny
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astarab1aze · 3 months
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jimingyue · 5 months
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
7,192 notes
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☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
154,688 notes
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🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
32,456 notes
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
48,971 notes
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
34 notes
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
545,460 notes
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🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
7 notes
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
988,653 notes
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🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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fuxuannie · 1 year
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Wanted to request maybe hsr men with a partner that's their exact opposite?
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* pairing(s) : various hsr men (i actually do all of them i promise) x reader
* prompt : opposites attract, amiright?
* authors note : so you may have noticed a bit of a.. redesign.. in my layout 🙏 but hi requester!! here u gooo ♡ cleaning up my requests sweep sweep. also thank you for 200 u guys r crazy omg.
* brief warning : blade is blade, sssadism if u SQUINT RLLY HARD.
(my love for gepard rlly shows in this im sorry. HABSGJABA 😭😭!!! some r rlly long.. ooc.. or short.. sbsndhsks HANDGSHWS i love gepard IM SORRY HES PRETTY BOY)
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DAN HENG appreciated his silence and alone time, you however, could not go 5 minutes without his supervision.
While he liked to plan and execute said plan perfectly, you were reckless and went into anything head-first with worrying about the possible failures later.
And because of this, Dan Heng was protective over you. He was a gentleman after all, and he would do the same for March 7th back then, so it's no surprise he'd do it for you now. Especially with your tendencies to get yourself into unnecessary fights.
It aches his heart, you know? Having to see your wounds and bruises as he patches you up. But you've made a compromise to give him the equivelant amount of kisses equal to the bandages he put all over you. (and there were A LOT)
Even if you make him worry 24/7, he'll still love you. It's not bad to have a chance of pace after all.
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JING YUAN is a man with many routines, calm and collected, with many worries on his shoulder.
You were more outgoing, a trailblazer who rode the express and were the one helping people with their worries.
He was always surprised with how helpful you really were in your first meetings, not that he doubted your abilities, but didn't expect someone to be able to do his asks as well as you did.
What didn't surprise him was how he fell for you, the way your heart was always pure and gold, and you lived a life to protect and help others.. he admired you. You were his inspiration, his muse, to be a General with that kind of care for his people.
When you two decided to date, Jing Yuan had to get used to your impulsive actions. He was always used to doing the same thing everyday, but with you? He found himself doing 50 other things before the next part of his schedule.
Not that he minded, he likes the excitement, and he really really likes you.
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GEPARD, the Silvermane guards leader, falling for his sisters co-performer.
He LOVED to watch you perform or practice, Serval always saw him with such a love-struck smile, head resting on his hand as he sat and watched his sisters and you practice. She'd tease him about it afterwards, calling him loverboy and such, but he never confirmed nor denied her teasing about him liking you.
Sometimes the guards would hear him humming your part of a song or the general tune of a melody you play, considering how much he watched you, it was no surprise that you were stuck in his head like a popular song.
He quite literally, loved you like a love song, because it's ALL he ever listened to. He'd be in bed, white shirts and shorts, his arm covering his eyes as he listens to the CORNIEST love song and smiles while doing so because he thinks of you.
When you two started dating, he was quick to realize your differences. He was a leader, an intimidating figure, and had goals and missions he swore on his life to constantly follow and pursue even outside of work hours.
You on the other hand, unless you're onstage, you're pretty shy. Not really standing out in a crowd when you're in your civilian clothing, and you liked it that way. Almost like you lived a different life from your almost idol-like persona.
Gepard did find it incredibly cute though, how you'd have an explosive personality infront of a crowd. But with him? You were at the mercy of his soft kisses and his chuckles as your face turns warm from fluster.
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SAMPO was the COMMON ENEMY between the Overworld and Underworld.
Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But YOU?? Natasha's sweetest nurse and sibling?? with the likes of HIM??
He was a liar, seemingly the type to decieve people who put their trust in him, only to repay them randomly out of nowhere with random treasure maps or save them from tight situations. It seemed like any suspicious activity was ALWAYS tied to him.
You, on the other hand, worked with your sister in her clinic. Often times praised for your kindness and patience, how amazing you were with children and people in general. Nobody would've expected that you fell for him, hell, he didn't expect it either.
But you saw that somewhere, in that heart of his, he truly did care about his friends and loved ones. Somewhere buried in his rather annoying antics, were the intentions of someone who was just worried for the others well-being. He proved it to you when he caught you crying in a dark alley, wiping your tears as you were so tired and overworked. He listened to you for hours on end, and he got to see a side of you that you didn't show to people, and vice versa. You saw the side of him people thought they'd die to see exist.
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WELT YANG was always rather serious at times, with his status and achievements, people expected it of him.
You were his closest companion, one of the few he had left from his journey, but you were also his partner. Despite being just about his age, you were so calm, so gentle. Compared to his seemingly stern nature.
You loved plants and flowers of the such, always telling Welt about the newest one you learnt from a new planet on each expedition through the galaxy. You warmed his heart with how you spoke, explaining each and every plant with such detail. He loved it whenever you spoke, 'music to his ears', he'd tell people. Anyone would be enamoured with your voice and way of speaking, he admired your intelligence, but more importantly, he admired you.
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BLADE.. with Kafka's partner in crime?
Kafka can't say she's surprised, hell, she'd love you too. But the pairing was rather odd.
Blade was monotone, cold. His stare as sharp as daggers, and could care less about those he hurt.
You, on the other hand, found immense joy in hurting others. A wicked smile on your face whenever you're permitted to do so towards anyone who dare stand in their way.
Whenever you two would kiss, the difference once again shows. You're clearly enjoying it, but Blade's expression is blank. But I guess don't judge a book by its cover? As the kiss he initiated is passionate and intimate, he's enjoying it I promise, he just doesn't show it.
Either way, you're both stuck babysitting Silverwolf most of the time. Oh well, more time with him.
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cutielando · 4 months
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my love ~ lando norris
instagram au
synopsis: hard-launching your relationship and showing the world just how much of a simp lando is <3
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
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liked by y/n.official, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 4,567,389 others
landonorris my whole world. tagged: y/n.official
view all 794,867 comments
y/n.official i love you so much <3
landonorris i love you more baby <3
maxfewtrell you could have at least given me photo credits for having to put up with you two liked by y/n.official and landonorris
landonorris shut tf up
y/n.official don't listen to him, we love you max <3
carlossainz55 congrats mate!
landonorris thanks! now you can finally stop calling me lando norizz
y/n.official never stop calling him lando norizz, carlos
carlossainz55 wasn't planning on it
landonorris y/n.official whose side are you on?
y/n.official my own side
user1 OMFG I CAN'T BELIEVE THISSSSS. LANDO NORIZZ??????? 🤯🤯
user2 PARENTS
user3 mommy? sorry, mommy? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
user4 pathetically sobbing into my pillow because of how cute they are
user1 same girl, same
mclaren can't wait to see you in the paddock, y/n! 🧡 liked by y/n.official, landonorris and 14,967 others
user5 our papaya boy found his papaya girl 🧡🥺🥺
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 978,475 others
y/n.official our hearts speak the same language 🧡 tagged: landonorris
view all 173,687 comments
landonorris you make me the happiest that i have ever been
landonorris i love you baby 🧡
y/n.official i love you more honey 🫶🏻
maxfewtrell such a simp
landonorris maxfewtrell let me be
lilymhe adorable !!! ❤️
y/n.official i miss you girl !!! 🩷🩷
lilymhe landonorris alex_albon double date?
alex_albon sigh...anything for you baby
landonorris the things we do for our girls
user1 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP THEY'RE SO PRECIOUS 😩😩😩
user2 when will it be my turn 😭😭
user3 i'm so happy for them !! they look happy together
francisca.cgomes you are gorgeous together !! ❤️❤️
y/n.official i love you !! ❤️
user4 this is lowkey the couple we didn't know we wanted but needed liked by y/n.official
mclaren 🧡
user5 the mclaren admin is just as in love with them as we are liked by mclaren
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,856,394 others
y/n.official smile 📸 tagged: landonorris, lando.jpg
view all 362,869 comments
landonorris my heart smiles when i'm with you
y/n.official you're making me blush babe 🤭
landonorris 😏😏😏
user1 he's so head over heels for her 😩😩😩
user2 LANDO.JPG CONTENT?????
user3 will we see you at races after the summer break y/n.official?
y/n.official yes !!! i'll be there and i'm excited to meet all of you !! 🧡
user3 omg she actually replied i'm crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭
carlossainz55 he hasn't stopped talking about you while we were golfing this morning 😠
landonorris can't help it
y/n.official i'm the same, so 😋
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liked by y/n.official, daniel3.jpg and 302,586 others
lando.jpg my muse tagged y/n.official
y/n.official you make me feel beautiful 😭🫶🏻
landonorris you are a goddess. i love you
y/n.official i love you so much 🥹
daniel3.jpg glad to see you taking pictures again
landonorris i have a pretty good subject to capture now
user1 she is so beautiful i can't 😩😩😩😩😩
user2 i wanna be her so badly 🥲
user3 i wanna meet her as badly as i wanna meet lando
user4 landonorris can you fight? cause we're coming to steal your girl
landonorris 🤺
francisca.cgomes you are gorgeous 😮‍💨
y/n.official no you are 😏
user5 being alive at the same time as y/n should be considered a blessing liked by landonorris
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froody · 1 year
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please help my scruggly cat
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Tommy, Tumblr micro-celebrity famous for featuring/being the muse for hit posts such as ‘father is…evil?’ and ‘my cat can tell when I’m sad and instinctively bites my toes’ and ‘frustrating each other is our love language’ needs a little financial support. Please consider donating to my ko-fi or buying something from my teespring store.
Tommy was diagnosed with diabetes earlier this year under dramatic circumstances that involved a week long intensive care vet stay. She has stomatitis (an inflammation of the gums and mucus membranes) that she was on steroids for and the steroids may have damaged her pancreas. Since her diagnosis we’ve had a hard time controlling her blood sugar. Her insulin dose goes up and up. The vet thinks she has a good chance of stabilizing, that diabetic cats can and do live long, healthy and happy lives. She’s only 5. Her 6th birthday is later this month. She’s fighting. She wants to live.
Each insulin vial costs $160. Her prescription cat food is $35 for a 4 pound bag. She’s also on gabapentin for her pain and neuropathy and she’ll probably need another course of antibiotics. She currently goes to the vet every two weeks and the cost of that varies immensely. Basically, she’s a much more expensive cat than she was before and the cost of living for me has risen as well. It’s not an immediate emergency but we need funds. I’m disabled, I have an autoimmune disease that attacks my colon, I have a hard time working outside of the home or even at all because my health fluctuates and my energy levels are low. I’m trying so desperately to get better but for now I’m living in my mom’s house and sponging off my loved ones and tapping into my meager savings.
I know what you’re thinking, the thing people always comment on donation posts about pets, “if you can’t afford to care for your cat, why do you still have your cat?” and as biting as that question is, I know it’s a valid one and I’ve thought about it myself. I still have her because I need her and she needs me. She’s like my soulmate animal. We met when I was 16 and she was about 4 weeks old. There was no way I could have known we’d both be struggling sick moneypits in 5 years. I’m trying to give her the best life I can and she’s trying to give me her best self. I’m her person. I’m home 24/7 so we’re so used to having each other. She brings me immense joy and I know she’s brought a lot of other people joy. If you’re one of those people, please consider giving a couple of dollars. If you can’t afford to, that’s fine. Thank you for reading anyway.
TL;DR: cat sick. I’m sick. please help.
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steveshairychest · 2 years
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thinking about Eddie and Steve's lockers being next to each other in high school and whenever he gets the chance, Eddie slips an anonymous love letter in Steve's locker so that the pretty boy thinks he has a secret admirer.
This goes on for a couple weeks. Eddie will slip a letter in Steve's locker and Steve will pull it out so gently, a smile tugging at his lips when he turns to Eddie to ask, "Munson, did you see who put this here?" And Eddie will just slam his locker shut and shrug.
"No, Harrington. Move." He'd shove past Steve, their shoulders brushing together, and he'd go about his day, ignoring the little voice in his head that tells him he has a crush on Steve fucking Harrington. Which is ridiculous, he hates Steve.
But then he starts to spend more time writing the letters. He starts to doodle little pictures of Steve on the back of the letter and he can't help the smile that breaks out on his face when Steve pulls it out of his locker and sees the drawings. "Oh my God, that's me!"
"It looks just as awful as the real you." Eddie says while peering over Steve's shoulder.
Steve jumps about 5 feet in the air and clutches the note to his chest. "Jesus, Munson, you need a bell or something." He flips the note over to read the writing, the little cursive letters had taken Eddie so long to get right. He couldn't write the note in his usual handwriting, everyone knows what his god awful handwriting looks like because the teacher shows it to the class as an example of what not to do. "Go away, you're ruining the best part of my day."
Eddie just nods dumbly and shuffles down the hallway. The notes are the best part of his day? Eddie pulls a piece of his hair in front of his face to hide his huge smile. God, he's screwed.
He writes the letters the whole time they are in school together and on Steve's last day of high school, he slips one final letter into his locker with a sigh. He's surprised no one has seen him do this over the years, he stopped being careful about it last year.
Steve opened his locker and carefully pulled the final letter out, a sad smile appearing on his face as he opened it and started to read. "Hmm."
"Hmm what, Harrington?" Eddie mused while pulling shit out of his locker. He knows exactly what caught Steve's attention.
He had signed the letter 'Love, E.' Instead of 'From anonymous.'
"Who do you know that starts with the letter E?" Steve was staring at the letter with a little frown, he turned it over to the back where Eddie had drawn a little graduation cap.
Eddie slammed his locker shut and pretended to think for a second, his heart hammering against his chest so hard it hurt. "Hmm... My name starts with an E." He said with a smirk, hoping Steve couldn't see how terrified he was.
Steve lifted his gaze to Eddie and he seemed to consider it for a moment before laughing. "Ha ha very funny, Munson." He said sarcastically as he shoved the letter in his front pocket. He pulled the rest of his stuff out of his locker and dumped it all unceremoniously into his backpack. "Well, see ya, Munson." And then he was gone.
"See ya, Steve."
**
(i have posted the first chapter of the fic !! Here's the first chapter for anyone that wants to read it! )
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months
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Something New
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: SO many okay; sub Spencer, oral (m receiving), voyeurism & exhibitionism, fingering/masturbation, HEAVY breading kink, riding, choking, marking, they both got absolutely filthy mouths, a lil begging, cockwarming too- I think I got everything?? Mentions of alcohol as well
Genre: fluff & Smut
Summary: Meeting your boyfriend's friends leads to a few curious discoveries about him for both of you.
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Your boyfriend is many things. A genius, a profiler, a professor- sometimes, a man with so much to say about pretty much everything, the love of your life- the list goes on. You've been dating Spencer Reid for about a year now and you really can't say you have anything to complain about. He's attentive and funny and thoughtful and kind, and even when work takes him away for days he still manages to make you feel just as loved from afar. Tonight Spencer's invited you out to meet all of his coworker friends. You've heard tons of stories but Spencer has been hesitant to introduce you to them. Not for any bad reasons- he's simply being greedy with your time. Well he was anyway, it seems the team has finally worn him down and you're joining everyone for drinks at a bar.
When you walk into the place, Spencer finds his friends quickly and pulls you close to him as he leads you to the group. Before anything can even be said by you or Spencer the table erupts into noise upon seeing you. There are compliments and whoops and it's hard to pick out any one thing that's being said by the group.
"Settle down guys." Spencer rolls his eyes. "This is my girlfriend y/n."
"It's nice to meet everyone! Spence talks about y'all all the time." You say.
"Well don't just stand there, sit, we have a million questions." One of the women at the table pulls you over to sit next to her.
"Garcia." Spencer sighs.
"Now we mostly use each other's last names, side effect of the job but I'm Penelope, that's Aaron Hotchner- but we all call him Hotch pretty much exclusively, Derek Morgan, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi." She quickly intros the entirety of the table as Spencer slides into to booth across from you, next to Derek.
"It's so good to finally put names to faces. Considering how much time you spend together I thought he'd have more pictures of you guys but-"
"Interesting you say that because his desk at work is full of pictures of you." Derek muses.
"Dude." Spencer nudges him and you chuckle a bit as pink crawls up his neck slightly.
"His wallet has a photo of you as well." David muses.
"Rossi please." Spencer says.
"I keep lots of pictures of him at work too actually." You smile.
"You do?!" Spencer blinks at you.
"Of course I do. I take pictures all the time. Why does that surprise you?" You muse.
"Wait a minute do you have any pictures Spence would not want us to see?" Emily smirks.
"I'm absolutely positive I do." You nod.
"Oh I have got to see this." JJ says.
"Yeah y/n you have to share-"
"Y/n don't you dare." Spencer's eyes widen cutting Derek off.
"Oh come on Spencer you can't expect us not to want to know." Emily says.
"You can want whatever you'd like but you're not gonna get it." Spencer says.
"They aren't?" You tilt your head.
"Y/n, please." Spencer's eyes are pleading in a way that almost makes you want to tease him more. You of course have no intention of embarrassing him in front of his coworkers but the adorable look on his face tugs at your sadistic side. You hold his gaze for a moment before turning to the rest of the group with a smirk.
"Sorry guys, there are some things I like to keep to myself." You muse and everyone lets out playful sounds of frustration that you laugh at while Spencer settles in his seat.
"It's fine we'll simply separate them and get her to confess that way." Penelope stage whispers to the rest of the table.
"So, y/n, Spencer tells us you're a professor?" Aaron who apparently everyone calls Hotch says. He hasn't spoken much so far but he and Rossi watched the earlier chaos affectionately.
"I am, yes. We met when he was guest lecturing at the university where I work actually."
"Really? What subject do you teach?" JJ asks.
"Architecture and sometimes English."
"Sometimes English?" Derek quirks an eyebrow up at you.
"I'm primarily an architecture professor but I have an English degree as well so I'll teach an English class or two. Not every semester though, it really depends. I mostly fill in when an English professor is out." You shrug.
"That's so interesting. So how did you two actually meet? He refuses to tell us the story." Penelope asks.
"Really? Why Spence?" You look at him.
"I mean I'm not hiding it exactly-" Spencer mutters.
"You'll tell us won't you y/n?" Penelope nudges you.
"Well sure- I dunno how interesting you'll find the story but I'll tell it. He was leaving a lecture he was giving and I was conducting an- in class activity that sort of spilled into the hall as he was trying to leave. He's quite the curious boy so he asked what we were up to and then he left." You shrug.
"How did you manage to get her to go on a date with you if you didn't even try to get her attention?" Derek scoffs.
"This is why I didn't tell you the story." Spencer rolls his eyes.
"He sat in on one of my lectures the next week, at the end of which he spouted about 10 minutes' worth of information about the architecture of the building we were in." You chuckle.
"And that worked on you?" JJ muses.
"I'll admit it was strange- but I thought he was cute. I told him if he had any more obscure details about the university we could discuss it over coffee."
"So you made the first move." Derek says.
"Of course I did." You say.
"Alright! Can we please talk about something else?" Spencer grumbles.
"Come on Spence we're meeting your girlfriend for the first time you can't expect us to not have questions." Emily smiles.
"Do they have to be about the logistics of how we ended up together though?" Spencer rolls his eyes. You can't help but laugh watching him pout at his coworkers.
"I don't mind talking about it baby." You say.
"Yeah she doesn't mind baby." Derek chuckles. Spencer looks at you with a huff.
"Spence why don't you get something to drink for me hm?" You ask him.
"Anything specific?" Spencer stands at your request.
"You can pick just make it good." You say pulling him down to kiss him before he can walk to the bar. "If you wanna ask me questions Derek I'll answer them but my baby is off limits." You wink letting Spencer go get drinks.
"Fine, fine. Changing the subject." Derek smiles at you. By the time Spencer returns with drinks, you're in a completely different conversation with the rest of the table. You spend a couple of hours getting to know Spencer's friends and you'd like to think things go well. It seems like they like you, and you can say for sure that you like them. Of course, as the night goes on, the team lets alcohol loosen their lips. You, not being a big drinker have been nursing the one drink you had Spencer get you and Spencer doesn't drink more than you let him so you two are the most sober at the table, except Aaron who seems to be very mindful of his drinks. Somehow the table has gotten into making up outlandish things about other patrons of the busy bar you're in. A guy sipping whiskey is going through a breakup, a girl on the dancefloor is definitely going home with the guy she's dancing with, someone in a leather jacket 'definitely ties people up'. It seems like a game of who can make up the wildest story about strangers and you just chuckle as they play.
"I bet that lady has a man she puts on a leash." Penelope says of a woman sitting with a group of friends. That one makes you glance at Spencer to see him shift awkwardly.
"No way babygirl. That woman does not seem like the type." Derek shakes his head.
"I dunno I think it's possible. But like wouldn't she have him out with her?" Emily hums.
"Not necessarily. Even a mistress is allowed to have time without her-" Spencer's foot nudges yours before you can finish your thought. You don't think it's on purpose though, he seems to just be tense regarding the conversation.
"You speaking from experience there?" Derek asks you.
"Sorry Derek, that is classified." You smirk.
"Wait a minute what do y'all be getting up to?!" Derek's gaze turns to Spencer.
"Nothing." Spencer's response is sharp and you have to work hard not to giggle.
"Leave him alone Derek we haven't- there's no tales to tell there." You say. You doubt Spencer wants his friends to know those details of your relationship. Especially considering you haven't really explored that aspect of your relationship much. You've had a few conversations about it but you really haven't gone beyond making out and such.
"You're so sweet on our boy genius." JJ coos.
"Of course I am." You shrug.
"Wait what do you mean there's no tales to tell?" Penelope asks.
"I'm more interested in your knowledge of mistressing?" Emily shakes her head.
"Curious to get into that yourself Emily?" You ask.
"Maybe."
"Do you have tips y/n?" JJ asks.
"How did we get here?" You laugh. Drunk conversations are so funny.
"Well now you have to answer the question." Penelope says.
"Talk to your partner? I dunno everyone's different. You should find out what things they are comfortable with before you do anything really. Leashes are usually safe enough for beginners but a lot of the more interesting 'tips' would be- for more advanced stuff." You muse.
"Spencer you have got one interesting girl on your hands." Derek smirks smacking him lightly on the back.
"Please stop asking my girlfriend sex questions holy fuck." Spencer rubs his temple with a sigh.
"Aw but she seems like she knows so much." Penelope says.
"Another time ladies, I'll answer all your questions." You say.
"You will?"
"Absolutely. But I think you guys should maybe start sorting out your rides home. It's- getting pretty late and you've all been drinking." You say when you catch JJ yawning.
"Yeah I'd agree it's time to wind down, especially since this place closes soon and I hate to be the last one out." David hums.
"Do you all have rides home? Are you getting a cab or calling someone? Because you can't drive." You shake your head at the girls specifically.
"I'm fine to drive everyone home." Aaron tells you. "Will you and Spencer be good?" He asks.
"Oh yeah, we've each only had one drink. Either of us can drive." You shrug standing up. Spencer follows your lead and after him, everyone slides out of their seats. A few rounds of goodbyes later, you're on the way home, Spencer driving and both of you enjoying the quiet compared to the last few hours in a rowdy bar. Back at your apartment Spencer lets out a sigh as you both take off your shoes.
"Sorry about them." He mutters.
"What are you talking about? Your friends are great. Do you think it went badly?" You ask.
"No. No, I'm sure they love you. Maybe more than me now. I just meant- they can be a bit unpredictable when they get drunk so, sorry about the weird questions."
"Oh that? Spencer honey there are way worse things a group of profilers could ask me than if I'm a dominatrix." You scoff. "I'm pretty chill when it comes to discussing sex." You shrug walking further into your apartment. You wanna get out of this dress.
"Really?" Spencer follows after you,
"Yeah. Although- I take it you are way less comfortable with that sort of stuff?" You ask.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well- you seemed really tense earlier when they were asking me about the mistress stuff. I just figured." You say.
"Oh- that was nothing." He mutters.
"That- didn't seem like nothing. But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You hum. There's a moment of quiet as you take off your jewelry.
"I don't think my imagination is that active." Spencer speaks again and you turn to look at him. "Not in like, a sad 'my creativity is dead' sort of way. I'm fairly creative. But having an eidetic memory just means my focus is on other things. You know, the information I've read or seen that I can use- usually for work. Of course, my imagination fairs pretty well too. I mean it works well enough that I can reconstruct crime scenes in my head and stuff so it does what I need it to do for work."
"Right." You nod with a frown. When Spencer doesn't continue after a minute you add, "I'm following you Spence but I have no idea where this is going." 
"You commented on me being tense earlier."
"Correct."
"It's because my imagination was entirely too active during that conversation." He mutters, almost like he doesn't want you to know.
"Are you- embarrassed because a sexual conversation made you think about your girlfriend sexually?" You try not to laugh because it's not that his embarrassment is funny to you it's just the circumstance of not wanting to admit he finds his partner hot.
"I had an erection at a table with all my friends because my girlfriend was talking about leashing people."
"Are you interested in wearing a leash Spence?" You smirk, leaning against your dresser.
"Don't- I'm not sure." He frowns.
"We can work our way up to it if you are baby. It's not like I'm planning to collar you tonight." You chuckle at his confused look.
"Do you like doing that?" He blinks at you.
"What? Putting collars on people? I mean only if they're into it." You shrug. Spencer takes a deep breath before he speaks again.
"This- is not helping." He says.
"Helping?" You look at him. His hands, which were balled up at his sides catch your attention when they instinctively cross in front of him.
"Wait a second-"
"Don't."
"Are you-"
"Y/n."
"You're still hard from earlier." You say.
"Of course I am. All I can think about is the image in my head of my girlfriend as a mistress." Spencer huffs out.
"Well, we can always replace that image in your head with the real thing." You offer.
"I- I don't- I've never had a mistress before. I don't know what to do." He frowns.
"We'll work our way up to more complex stuff. Tonight'll be simple, pick a safe word and let me do the thinking." You push off the dresser you'd been leaning against.
"A safe word? Uh- winter. Is that a good one?"
"As long as you can remember it, it's perfect baby." You pull him forward by his shirt to kiss him sweetly. Spencer melts against your lips, letting you guide him easily to sit on the bed. You straddle him as you deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping between his lips easily. Spencer seems content to let you have your way with him and you intend to take full advantage of that. Eventually, you pull away from him only to trail your lips to his neck. His mouth drops open with a soft moan as you cover his throat in red marks. You make quick work of the buttons on Spencer's shirt, kissing and marking your way across his chest as you strip him, enjoying the quiet whines he lets out.
"You look pretty covered in marks." You tell him, bringing your lips to his again with a hand at the back of his neck. You drag your nails down his abdomen until your fingers find his belt, undoing it and his pants before you stand up. Spencer's eyes are on you immediately with a confused look and a sound expressing his discontent. "Pants off baby." You tell him and he scrambles to tug them off quickly and settle himself back on the edge of the bed.
"Are you- do you plan to stay clothed?" He croaks uncertainly.
"For now, yes." You say kneeling in front of Spencer. His eyes widen as he watches you wrap your fingers around his erection. He hisses from the contact and gasps when you gently drag one finger along the length of him. Your tongue follows the path of your finger and his breath is coming out shaky by the time you fully put your lips around him. You slowly take as much of him into your mouth as you can fit relishing in the whimpers he fails to hold back. His hands grip the edge of the bed so tightly you think he may rip the sheets as you suck his dick greedily.
"Oh my- god." Spencer chokes out, body practically shaking from your ministrations. When his thighs start to tense you pull off of him entirely and he can't stop the frustrated whine that comes out.
"Sorry baby, but if you cum now you won't enjoy it as much when I ride you." You tell him as you stand up. You give Spencer a few moments to steady his harsh breathing before speaking again. "Undress me." You tell him, turning your back so he can unzip your dress. You hear him stand, feel one hand settle on your shoulder while the other tugs the zipper down, watch his hands slide the straps of your dress from your shoulders and once it hits the floor you step out of it and turn to face him. "Open your mouth." You tell him softly and when he does you slip two fingers between his lips that he immediately begins sucking on. You can feel the action in your abdomen and it takes a moment to get your next instruction out. "Panties off." You tell him. With your fingers still in his mouth his movements are a little awkward but he manages to get your panties off and only then do you pull your fingers out. You set yourself up on the bed pulling Spencer's attention, though he stays where he is. He follows directions very well you realize. Spencer watches intently as you take the fingers that were in his mouth and slide them between your folds. You make quite the show of touching yourself while he regards you, moaning and spreading your legs widely as you toy with your wet heat. You catch his hands open and close a number of times as your fingers disappear inside of you and you know he's dying to touch you.
"Y/n?" He forces out after several minutes of what must've been silent agony for him.
"Yes, Spencer?" You let your reply come out as whiny and breathy as you can muster, swimming in the pleasure you're bringing yourself.
"Am I- do you just want me to stand here?" He asks with a frown.
"What's the matter, baby? Not content just watching?" You ask somewhat tauntingly. "Did you want a taste?" You ask.
"Please." He breathes out. You pull your fingers from your center and hold them out to him. He comes to the edge of the bed, leaning down to take your fingers in his mouth. You allow him to lick the digits clean before you shove him down onto the bed on his back. He tries to sit up but you place a hand against his chest as you swing a leg over to straddle him.
"I'm going to ride you now, okay Spence?" You look down at him for any sign of hesitation but the look in his eyes gives no indication of it as he responds.
"Yes- please. Please ride me y/n." He says. You lift yourself enough to grab his dick and line it up with your entrance before sinking down onto him with a satisfied moan. You brace yourself with your hands on his chest and set a nice rhythm for yourself, bouncing on him relentlessly, spurred on by the endless string of sounds from his lips. A beautiful combination of whimpers and moans and expletives as he begs you not to stop.
"So, pretty. You look so pretty under me baby." You tell him placing fleeting kisses against his lips.
"God I love you. Fuck that feels amazing. Oh my- shit." You can practically see his brain malfunctioning as gets lost in the heat of your walls surrounding him. There's something so satisfying about reducing a genius who always has something to say to a collection of broken sentences and desperate moans.
"I love you too baby, love the feeling of you inside me. Letting me- letting me ride you like this, so good for me." You pant out.
"Y-Y/n I- oh fuck I'm close- I'm gonna cum. Wait you have to- please y/n s-slow down." Spencer's frantic attempt at warning you only makes you want to push him over more.
"I want you to cum Spencer." You tell him.
"W-what? L-like inside- inside you?"
"Yes baby. I want to feel you cum for me." You tell him. Spencer's eyes go unfocused for a moment as if processing your words, then his hands snap up to your waist, the first time he's touched you without being explicitly instructed to.
"You mean that?" He rasps, his hold on your hips tightening.
"Yes Spencer, I mean it." You say drawing your hand up his chest to wrap a hand around his throat. "So don't stop now baby." You add. Spencer lets out a pained groan and shifts his grip on you.
"You can't- can't say those things." He grunts as he sits up and thrusts his hips up into you. 
"Oh? And why's that Spence? Don't you want to cum inside me?" You mutter kissing and nipping at his collarbone as if there aren't enough marks on his skin.
"S-so fucking badly. Wanna fill you up til you're leaking. Wanna- fuck wanna get you pregnant- you'd make such a good mother to my children and god you'd look so good all swollen 'cuz of me." Spencer's barely aware of his own rambling at this point, but your ears prick at the turn his words have taken.
"What a dirty mouth you've got all of a sudden." You muse, your body thrumming from his words. "That's what you want Spence? Wanna fuck a baby into me? Go ahead puppy, breed me if you can." If he hadn't lost it before those words seem to snap something in him and his thrusts get sloppy, they're harder and faster but messy as he chases that end you've teased. "That's it baby- fuck me like you want to put a baby in there. Fill my pussy like a good puppy." Your breathing is ragged and your sentence is broken up by loud moans as Spencer puts all his strength into railing you, but you have no intentions of giving up control of the situation.
"G-god, please. Please. I'm so close." Spencer whines out. Your fingers slip between your bodies and a few tight circles against your clit have you tumbling over the edge.
"Cum for me Spence, lemme feel you fill me up baby." You breathe out the command as you ride the waves of your own orgasm and he's spilling into you moments later.
"Holy fucking hell." He eventually huffs out and you gently kiss his heated skin as you allow him a few minutes to come down from his release.
"How we feelin?" You whisper.
"Like lead and hydrogen at the same time." He mutters and you glance up in time to catch the confused frown on his face.
"You did very well with your responsibilities for tonight Spencer." You tell him.
"Is it- is it always so... intense?"
"Well that was- more intense than I expected it to be. Had no idea you'd have such a breeding kink." You chuckle a little.
"I- I'm sorry that was-"
"No need to apologize. I liked it." You shrug.
"You did?"
"Oh yeah- you're so nasty about it. It's sexy, even if you're not in charge." You say. When you shift to stand up, Spencer's arm wraps around you lazily.
"Don't." He mutters.
"We gotta get cleaned up baby."
"It can wait." He groans.
"If you insist." You smile gently. You didn't expect to go down this road with your boyfriend tonight. But you can't say you're disappointed with the outcome. You learned something new about your boy genius.
***
2K notes · View notes
mysicklove · 7 months
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cw: sub! gojo, gn! reader, heavy feminization, lingerie, gojo wears panties, mentions of gojo having a pussy? highkey cringe writing :(
wc: 0.9k
lingerie inspo
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The color matches his eyes. It's a pretty shade of blue that compliments his hair and his porcelain skin well. He was in a maid outfit, or at least the beginnings of one — it showed too much skin to be really considered an outfit.
The bottoms are a short skirt with a white and blue pattern and some white ruffles. The light blue top fits to cover just his chest, disappointingly hiding his nipples from you. And, of course, you put him in the loveliest, white lacy pantyhose and pretty white choker to match.
Gojo, bluntly, looks adorable and a different type of provocative than what you are used to.
Gojo, on the other hand, was pouting at you from across the room. His body is halfway covered by the wall, and he seems to be trying to hide away from you. The man pulls at the bottoms nervously and shakes his head at your grin. "This has got to be the most humiliating thing I have ever done," He complains, a dramatic whine in his voice.
"Hmmm, you think so? I don't know…Satoru, you have done some…Pathetic things. Don't you think, sweet thing?" You put up two fingers, beckoning him over to you. He frowns at you, ignoring the burning of the tips of his ears. "Come here, pretty. There is no need to hide," You coax when he pauses momentarily.
Gojo nods, trying his best to ignore the ridiculous pet name. He then strides over to you, and your eyes travel to the cutesy stalking that climbs up his leg and ends on his upper thigh.
You stand up to meet him halfway there, padding over to him with a teasing grin on your face. His hands go awardly to his sides, and he peers at you through his lashes. "My, my, I don't think I have ever seen the notorious Satoru Gojo embarrassed?"
"Im not—Just…Shut up, would you?" He half-heartedly mumbles, "Never been in girl's clothing before. You're the weird one here for buying this, ya hear me? N-Not me!"
"Such a shame, too." You muse, ignoring the second part of his sentence. "Think you may look better in it than in boy's clothing." He bites back a whine, another pout on his face. But you ignore him as you run your fingers over the fabric and walk around his lengthy body, twirling over every lace and ribbon. He doesn't move while you do the inspection; instead, he just looks at the floor awkwardly.
You press kisses along any surface you can, and Gojo sighs with every trace of your lips. You make your way to behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and traveling your hands along his chest and stomach. Your lips linger on his lower shoulder blades as you crane your head around to see the front of him. "The real question is," You mumble and pause, coaxing him.
"Hmm?" He prompts, eyes widening when he feels your fingers drag along the bottom of his skirt. He knows what is going to come, and he fumes a shade of red before bringing his hands up to cover his face.
You chuckle at him. "Tell me, did my pretty girl wear everything she was given?"
He shouldn't have put them on. He knew you were going to tease him about it, but still, he did it. To be good and listen to you in the moment sounded nice, but now, he could feel like he could die from humiliation.
"No," he tries to deny, but his voice is breathless, and he swears that you can hear how hard his heart is pounding. You nibble at the open flesh on his back, and he jumps.
"Aw, do I have a little liar?" You coo, and Satoru has the nerve to flip you off. You can't help but laugh at that. "And a brat too, huh?
He shakes his head and lowers his finger defeatedly. He wasn't smiling like you were; in fact, his mouth was dry, and he tries not to fidget. "Can you just do it already?"
"Excited, aren't we?" You prompt, but before he can rebuttal, you flip up the skirt to see the light blue sheer panties you picked out days prior.
"There she is," You tease, and his cock seems to twitch to life at the attention. "I knew you would wear them."
"Yeah, yeah…..Whatever, they just looked comfortable, that's all," He complains, biting his lip and not daring to look at the panties. It embarrassed him too much. You don't feel the need to deny his statements because it was an obvious fact that he was lying through his teeth.
Another glob of precum stains the silk, and you sigh dreamily. "Oh, Satoru, you are so wet; look, it's almost like you are meant to have a pussy!"
He lets out a breathless laugh and then cranes his head to look at you. Gojo, for the first time tonight, is grinning, and you are immediately intrigued. He then leans into your chest and whispers, "Dont need a pussy for you to fuck me."
A shiver runs down your spine, and your mouth goes dry. He always did these sorts of things. Made you question your authority for a moment with his cocky and smooth demeanor. But you didn't mind because it only made things more fun.
You are quick to recover like usual, and a feline-like smile spreads over your features. "That's my girl."
Gojo's eyes seem to light up.
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garoujo · 1 year
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✩ ˛˚ . GEPARD LANDAU ; — secret makeout sessions with the silvermane captain are a good way to pass the time when you miss him.
warnings: f!reader, rly just makeout sessions. note: don’t mind the characterisation rn i just wanted to write something short to give it a try ! i wanna write more for star rail tho snifle <3 maybe some dan heng / blade / jing yuan next :<
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“i’m..” gepard begins before its cut off again as he swallows your next dreamy exhale, his brows furrow and he can feel the sting of his own deep blush — the impact you have on him far too severe for him to even consider trying to swallow it down. “..i’m on duty.”
his words are fumbled when he finally manages to push them out but they’re barely audible with the way his mouth still moves messily with yours, pushed into some darkened alley after he’d coincidentally came across you shopping in the city.
“but you said you’d walk me home, captain~” the title is a slow drawl that makes gepard almost whimper when it’s accompanied with the saccharine press of your chest against his broad one. as much as he can’t feel the press of your skin against his own, he remembers it — and that makes him yearn for it even more as his hands wrap around your waist with the next languid lav of his tongue along your own.
“it is my responsibility when you’re looking so..” breathtaking, is what he means to say but the clouded, starry-eyed look you send him as you pull away to breathe only has him pulling you back in for more. so he lets his hands, his movements — say what he needs and he knows you understand when he feels your arms wrap around his armoured shoulders, caging him against the brick wall behind you both as he grabs steadily at your hips.
you’re intoxicating, embarrassingly so that the silvermane captain can’t focus on anything else except the way you kiss him. your fingers smooth just under the hem of gepard’s jacket, enough to graze teasingly along the skin of his abdomen and he wants nothing more than to chase more of your touch as he exhales against your lips.
he did have a small break before his next assignment, one that he knows he’d love to spend wrapped in you when he feels you lick into his mouth needily — pushing your name between his lips even though it’s always on his mind and suddenly he feels too warm underneath his armour, even in the eternal freeze he’s sure you’d have him overheating.
gepard’s hand squeezes at your waist, making you pull away to blink up at him and your gaze is hypnotising despite the way it makes him want to look away — flushed to his chest with his usual pristine uniform mused by your hands. but he can’t help the way his lips part to growl immediately when he feels you lean back into press cute kisses along his jawline, trailing down the sensitive spots you’ve mapped out on his neck as he tries so hard to retain his self control that seems to drain away with every press of your lips.
the city is just to his left but you’re in his arms and he can’t find it in himself to care despite the position he’s in right now, the captain of the silvermane guards turning to putty for his sweet little girlfriend in some random ally. but it’s too tempting when your kisses trail back to his lips and it’s almost instinct the way he so easily switches your positions, his need making his ears ring as he presses you into the hard surface he occupied a few moments ago — kissing you so deeply you have to rely on his to keep you upright, because you know he always will.
“it—uggh, it shouldn’t be too much trouble for me to pick up my duties later.. i have something else to see through first.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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thetriumphantpanda · 12 days
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close to you | javier peña
Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine
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Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.
Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.
For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.
Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.
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You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.
It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.
You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.
“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.
“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.
“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”
Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”
You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.
“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”
It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.
“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”
You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.
“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”
There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”
“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.
“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”
Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”
“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”
You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.
“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.
“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.
“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”
“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”
“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.
You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, “Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.
It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.
“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”
You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”
“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”
And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.
In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.
“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”
You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.
“Peña?”
“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”
“Cariño?”
“Javi please, I need you.”
“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”
“Has something happened?”
“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”
“Where are you?”
“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”
“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.
“Please hurry.”
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He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.
He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.
Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.
“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”
He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.
“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.
“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”
“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”
“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”
Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.
“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”
“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”
“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”
He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.
“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.
“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”
He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.
The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.
There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.
“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”
You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.
“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.
“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.
“Scaring you off.”
“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”
He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.
“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.
“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”
It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.
“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”
“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”
Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.
“When were you going to tell me?”
Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”
“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”
Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.
“You know what you’re doing with her?”
It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.
“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”
Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.
“Will she be okay?”
Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”
Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.
“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”
Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”
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puranami · 7 months
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✿ It's The Little Things - 2 ✿
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A/N: Wow, the first post went far better than I ever expected, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing ᕕ(✿ᐛ )ᕗ It was a lot of fun though, so I'm back for round 2!
Summary: More little relationship things with other characters that are in both the anime/manga, and the live action~
Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk
Content: SFW, G/N reader, fluff with added fluff on top ✿
(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/ Corazon, Doflamingo)
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Buggy
✿ Naturally there is never a dull moment with a man as flashy and bombastic as Buggy, but that doesn't mean there are no calm moments. The start of your day is relatively mellow compared to the rest of it. Bugs will cling to you for as long as he can get away with before you both have to get up. During your morning routine you are practically on top of each other, but it is so natural and well coordinated, that you never collide or get in each others way. All the while, he'll be cracking jokes, and putting his hands on your "assets," followed by a cheeky wink, and infectious giggles. He loves when you match his shenanigans, and will overact his reactions, as if he wasn't just doing the exact same thing to you; "Well, I never-" - "You literally just grabbed my-" - "Never," to which you'll laugh and gently slap his arm while he sticks his tongue out at you.
✿ He's a materialistic guy, so he gives you lots of gifts, from the extravagant to the sentimental. It's the easiest way for him to show you how much you mean to him. Giving him gifts in return makes him melt; he isn't just buying your love, you are speaking his love language! As a pirate it's always been him taking what he wants, so to be freely given those things speaks volumes. Even more valuable than the things he wants are the things you have made for him. To know you have put time, energy, and love into making something special and unique means so much to him! He will cry because he is so moved, just hold him and stroke his hair while he has his moment.
✿ To be with Buggy means you have willingly lowered every single one of your barriers; you are an open book, completely honest about what you think and how you feel. He is insecure, so he needs to see that you trust him implicitly in order to return that trust. As a part of this openness, your personal bubble no longer exists, you have a couple bubble now. That doesn't mean you can't have space though! On the contrary, the mutual trust you've cultivated means you can say, "Hey, I just need some time to myself," and he knows that you aren't angry, or upset with him, because you would have told him as much. When you come back he welcomes you with a cheesy pickup line or wise crack as he pulls you right back into that shared bubble. It took a lot of faith at the start, which wasn't easy for him, and it takes consistent hard work to maintain this level of trust and honesty, and it is so worth it.
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Shanks
✿ This man cannot keep his hand to himself! When you're walking together he'll have his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your shoulder. More often than not he is holding your hand, fingers laced together, with him brushing your thumb with the rough, calloused skin of his own. In his mind, the closer you are to him, the safer you are. He's one of the strongest men in all the seas, so being in the same space means no one can touch you, just as they can't touch him, but you'd never know it. To you, he's just like a big puppy, needing to be in your presence, smothering you in affection. He likes to lean his head on top of yours, similar to how a dog will lean their head on your lap, all while wrapping his arm around your waist so you can't wander off. He can be a little possessive, honestly, but he means well.
✿ He will listen to you talk his ear off for hours on end about literally anything. From philosophical musings, to colour theory, to the many uses of vinegar - it doesn't matter the subject, he just loves to hear your voice, and to see how passionate you are. Shanks won't just smile and nod, giving the odd confirming "uh huh," while not really listening either; he gets really invested! Your passion is contagious, and you make even the most mundane things interesting. It's also good to know what interests you, as it makes gift ideas easier. Whenever he sees something related to a topic you've talked to him about he will get it for you. The main thing with all of this is the quality time he gets to spend with you; outside of drinking and merriment, it's one of his favourite ways to relax.
✿ Shanks loves playing little pranks on you. He never goes too far though, as it's important that you are laughing alongside him and the crew. It makes him so happy when you start pulling your own pranks on him. It is very hard to surprise him, but easy to confuse him. You know those pranks where people hide numerous things everywhere? Lets just say he is still finding little gnomes around the Red Force. The rest of the crew is in on it, pretending not to see them, and will deny any knowledge of them, and the longer it goes on, the funnier he finds it when he spots another - you hid them in the such obscure places! He's kept every single one of them, and they have a designated chest, but he'll keep his favourites on his desk.
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Mihawk
✿ Everything about Mihawk is subtle, and purposeful, and that extends to relationships. To outside observers he appears cold and distant, like he is barely tolerating your presence at his side, but you are so familiar with his subtleties that you can see just how much he adores you. Each ghost of a touch and fraction of a smile are a declaration of love that only you can understand. He is much more open with his affections when you are alone, where you are safest - not to say you are unsafe out with him, nothing could be further from the truth, he just won't do anything that puts a potential target on your back, exposing you as his achilles heel.
✿ He is a classic romantic! Mihawk is courting you, not dating you. At the start of the courtship he will wine and dine you, lead you with an arm behind you that never makes contact, and the only time he will touch you is to leave a faint kiss on your hand after escorting you home. There will also be large periods of time between meetings where he will send many unsigned love letters until he can return to you. You know exactly who they are from, Mihawk just wants to avoid you being linked to him, especially when he isn't there to protect you.
✿ Once you are fully committed to one another, he moves you to his home where you are safe, and when he is there, he is so domestic that you often forget you are with a (former) warlord. You will tend to the garden together, harvest what you need, and cook together, though he'd prefer to do all the cooking for you. In all honesty, as long as you are there to keep him company, he'd be happy to do everything for you, but he won't fight it if you insist on doing things for him, or ideally together instead; "We'll get things done quicker together, and then we can relax with a bottle of wine and a good book." - "Very well." There is nothing he loves more than sitting with you on the settee with a comfy blanket after a long day of training and daily chores.
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melodic-haze · 5 days
Note
Can I ask about sub Arlecchino being fucked with a strap-on in his office? I love your writing and sub Arlecchino is so... 😩
☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!fem!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Mommy kink 😜 aka reader is the 'Mother' figure to Arle's 'Father' ahahahahahah, reader with a strap referred to as a dick, overstimulation, semi-public? It's in her office so
☆ — NOTES: THANK YOUUU OMG I'M HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING ANON❗️❗️SORRY THIS WAS ROTTING IN THE ASKBOX I had to do some stuff 😭😭😭 but it's okay bc I come back with a VENGEANCE
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Ohhh dude the thing that just popped into my head you're NOT READY (delusional)
While she thought that battling her own children + the Traveller was the best move, it had kinda very much irked you. "I had trained them, it's fine," she says dismissively at the time when you confronted her and something inside you just kinda! Snapped!!!
If a Father has to have a hard hand on his children, then a Mother contrasts that by giving them a gentle touch
That DOES mean that you are to put anyone who threatens your children in any way, and Arlecchino is NO exception whatsoever
And what better way to punish her than to give her a taste of her own medicine in.. a different context?
One hand grabbing a fistful of her hair as you pushed her head down on the desk and the other clenching onto her hip as you moved her on your length, you're drilling into your lover relentlessly despite the slurred sobs that she had let out.
She had cum so many times by now, you didn't bother to keep count after the third time. Through that, however, you hadn't even entertained the mere thought of stopping, only reluctantly doing so when you ran out of stamina or needed to drink water—it's not as if you let her catch her breath as you did so, with the vibrator you had shoved into her at max setting whenever you needed to step away.
Your assault hasn't relented in the least, no matter how many times Arlecchino begged you to stop, no matter how many times she said to do better, no matter how many times she pleaded for you to go easier on her.
"Why would I give way to lenience when you hadn't done the same?" You mused coldly as you continued to plow into her over and over again, "You deem yourself exempt to my wrath, Peruere?"
You feel her try to shake her head in response before quickly following it up with a slurred defense, "N-No, 'm nn-- mmng! Not.. I--"
You clicked your tongue and gave her ass a loud smack, which earns you a garbled moan from the one underneath you, "You can't even form coherent sentences because of something you initially regarded as an 'unnecessary' action.. but that's okay."
The auditory mixture of her excess of slick between her thighs, your skin coming in contact every time you bottomed out inside of her, the pornographic noises that escaped her lips... It was all downright sinful, something completely unbecoming of her position.
But right now, she didn't care less. Or couldn't, more like, considering the complete lack of thought in her head. The only remaining thing within her mind was you and the way you put her in her place.
And the both of you knew that she relished the feeling of having things out of her control.
"You don't need to answer me," you continued, leaning down to press a kiss on the back of her neck.. before shoving her face down roughly as you straightened back up, "you just need to be put in your place, baby. Understand?"
You actually receive a desperate nod amongst the constant surge of white-hot overstimulation and constant orgasm.
"Good... Just don't resist and let mommy discipline you properly."
As if on cue, she cums again with a jolt, much to your delight.
Wanna fuck her so hard that her juices drip onto the floor and slide down on the side of the desk 😞😞 oughhghghh
There's that RISK of being caught in the midst of your lil session too—you could have it locked all along and while normal everyday Arlecchino would've noticed it perfectly fine, the Arlecchino you have underneath you is wayyyy too fucked out to actually realise in the moment so she's panicking but also? Her arousal is actually RAMPED UP are you kidding me
She won't admit to exhibitionism but there's smth There when she thinks of how the world would know that you have such a powerful Hold on her 🫶
But rn she doesn't care to move, not when her thighs are quivering and her pussy's aching to be filled all over again, practically getting used to the feeling of you inside her
Godddd break her enough and she might not be able to live without you ☺️☺️ or maybe you already have who knows ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ just saying the moment you donned the title of a Mother was the moment that she was indesputably yours for you to do as you saw fit ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
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whitedarkmoonflower · 2 months
Text
Yield to me
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)
Authors note: a request from lovely @wildchild2707 Thank you for trusting me to write you a story. I hope you'll like it. It fit perfectly with my mood as I'm giffing S3 now. @thenameswinter99 thank you so much for helping to overcome the sudden block in the middle of writing 💖
Warnings: SMUT 18+
Summary: you and Sihtric are sent to Bloodhair's camp to spy, and apparently there is more to discover than the secret plans of the Danes
Word Count: 5,9 K
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You could almost feel it – that piercing, even furious look burning holes in the back of your neck, lips pressed tightly together in a thin line, spitting words with a taste of acid. Yet, you chose to ignore him.
Your fingers continued to toy with the knife, your eyes discreetly scanning the warriors gathered around the different bonfires, the play of light and shadow dancing across their faces, the fire's crackling annoyingly loud. Amidst the clamour, numerous voices speaking in various dialects and tongues wafted through the air, mingling with the smoke. You had no patience for Sihtric's trivialities; your head spun from the cacophony around you.
Distinct dialects of Gaelic, Norse, Gutnish, and Welsh were discernible in the midst of the crowd. This was likely how it had felt at the Tower of Babel, you mused to yourself. Bloodhair had succeeded in assembling Danes and other fortune-seeking scum from all corners of the islands and even beyond the seas.
"Careful now, don't cut yourself," a rough hand suddenly landed on your thigh, a thick, booming voice abruptly wrenching you from your thoughts. It was a reflex, beyond your control, your fingers wrapping around the unfamiliar palm, grabbing the thumb and wrenching it to the side. A short cry and a loud thud, the body crushing against the hard ground, were the only sounds as you found yourself sitting atop a bewildered man, your eyes wide, teeth bared, and with your knife at his throat.
"The only thing I'll cut is your throat," you hissed, eyes scanning your catch. He was not unattractive, you observed, and he smelled good, unlike the majority in this cursed camp. Surely an Earl, you had seen him before, at the main fire with Bloodhair, Cnut, and Haesten. 
A valuable take, this is your chance, don't squander it, you cautioned yourself.
"Hey, easy! I didn't mean any harm," the Dane raised his hands, surrendering.
"Give me one good reason not to cut your balls off," you scoffed, studying the stranger carefully.
"I know a much better use for them," there was no anxiety in his voice, but neither was there anger, and you slowly relaxed your muscles, still scanning his face.
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“I want to know everything, every smallest detail,” you had never seen Uhtred so agitated before. Your big brother, though not bound by blood, your anchor, your stronghold, your grounding force in every tempest. You had seen him everything but scared and yet his voice quivered, betraying the angst he tried to conceal, eating him from within like a worm gnawing at an apple. 
“I can handle it without a babysitter,” you sneered at him, disdain evident in your voice. 
It was not merely chance, but destiny that had brought you together - you, Uhtred and Brida. Three children abandoned by fate, bound by love and friendship forged in the crucible of shared pain and suffering. You all had lost everything in that fateful night when the Danes had set their foot on the lands of Bebbanburg, yet you had found each other – an unbreakable bond, a thread to navigate through life and beyond. 
"I want you both to work together. Sihtric is not going there to look after you. Four eyes can see more than two. You speak all the tongues across the islands and beyond. He's considered my closest friend, my right hand, along with Finan. They'll be eager to welcome him and extract all my secrets. It's a perfect combination. I want you to trust him the way I trust him. Can you do that for me?" Uhtred's hands grasped yours, his scrutinising gaze searching for reassurance.
Could you? At the beginning you couldn’t bring yourself to trust him. He was Kjartan’s bastard, the blood and flesh of the man who had shattered your fragile lives for the second time, and he had attempted to kill Uhtred.
You could still recall his feverish gaze, darting from you to Uhtred, his bound hands slightly quivering as he held the blade at Halig’s throat. Just a boy on the brink of manhood, grappling for his chance to survive, yet so determined not to surrender.
You didn’t question Uhtred’s decision, but you couldn’t shake off the doubts that nagged at you. There was something about the quiet and reserved young warrior, something elusive, something you couldn’t quite grasp, simultaneously intriguing and unsettling you.
You had observed him in Dunholm, still half-expecting him to betray you all, to switch sides in the blink of an eye.
The clang of weapons thundered through your ears, nostrils flaring as you inhaled the sour air, thick with the stench of blood and angst. The shouts of the warriors mingled with Kjartan's piercing cry, Ragnar’s sword severing his wrist, denying him entrance to Valhalla. Wild howls echoed through the yard as the same sword swung in the air repeatedly—a cacophony of sounds and images melded into pure chaos, assaulting your senses like ocean waves threatening to engulf you. Yet, amidst the chaos, your gaze remained fixed on one face in the crowd: Sihtric’s.
His expression, contorted by anxiety and anticipation since the first clash of swords, transformed into gleeful triumph and contentment at Kjartan’s defeat, only to sour into disgust and revulsion the next moment. It was then and there that you realized the depth of the shallow and distant gaze with which he often stared into the fire, seemingly detached from the laughter and banter around him. It was as though you had been granted a glimpse into his soul, witnessing all the hidden pain, shame, and guilt reflected in his large, mismatched eyes, unable to look away.
Although Kjartan lay dead, the sword continued its relentless swing, chopping and slicing as if attempting to wrench life from his body anew with each stroke. The large, deep eyes of the boy turned warrior flinched in rhythm with the moving weapon, embracing the liberating truth, while scruple and doubt glistened within them as he struggled to believe, to comprehend that it was over. Finally over. For all of you.
"It should have been me," the words sliced through the silence of the night like a blade, as you found him sitting alone, far removed from the cheerful chatter around the bonfires. His back leaned against the mighty fortress wall, arms resting on his knees. The distant flicker of firelight danced in his large eyes, his gaze sweeping over the buildings with a feverish gleam, as if searching for something, as if seeing something beyond your perception.
“Sihtric, I…” Your attempt to comfort him with a gentle touch on his shoulder was met with a fury, as he shrugged off your hand. He jumped to his feet, feverishly rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. In a momentary blink, the gleam in his eyes revealed itself to be tears, before he stormed away, pushing you aside roughly.
Since that evening, a silent distance hung between the two of you, not by your choice. If anything had shifted on your end, it was the sense of him— the same unquenchable thirst for revenge tightening your heart in the dark of the long, cold nights. Even though you couldn’t see the ghosts of Dunholm’s lost souls, you knew he could. Your suspicion and mistrust had finally dissipated, morphing into something else, something warm and soothing that you couldn’t quite put a name to. 
It was Sihtric who apparently didn’t want neither your company, nor your comfort, avoiding you as much as possible. And so, you remained silent, giving him the space he seemed to need.
So, could you trust him as Uhtred was asking? Yes, you could. You were just unsure if Sihtric could reciprocate that trust. But there was nothing you wouldn't do for your brother. The tender kiss Uhtred had placed on your wrists still burned in your memory.
“Nobody knows about it. Not even Finan, not Osferth. Nobody. You’ll leave like traitors. Both of you,” Uhtred's voice dropped to a silent whisper, and you nodded, accepting the weight of the task placed upon you. You would fulfil it at any cost. You would free your brother from the curse the witch had cast upon him.
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You slowly withdrew your knife from the stranger’s throat and stepped back, extending your hand to help him to his feet, an offer he accepted.
“Are you alone? Where’s your clan?” the Dane inquired, studying you with a scrutinising gaze.
“I don’t have a clan. I came with him,” you nodded toward Sihtric, seated at another fire, and returned the knife to its scabbard on your back. Once more, you could feel the weight of Sihtric's angry gaze boring into your flesh from a distance. He still hadn't grasped it, hadn't accepted that you were here on your own mission, that you neither needed nor wanted his protection.
He had choked on his ale, coughing furiously, when Uhtred had informed him you would be accompanying him.
“Lord, it’s too dangerous,” was the first thing he had said. “You can’t send her there.”
You snorted in disdain, stepping forward with fury burning in your eyes. He had witnessed your prowess in battle, seen you take down men much larger than yourself, and yet he doubted you, considering you weak. You were a warrior, your small and fragile appearance deceiving, both a curse and a blessing, concealing the steel beneath the softness of your velvety skin.
“I need neither your approval nor permission,” you hissed through gritted teeth, fixing him with a steely gaze. “Whether you come with me or not, that's your decision.”
And, predictably, he came. He could not refuse his lord’s order. You both departed under cover of night after a heated dispute with Uhtred, freeing the imprisoned Danes beforehand, but the silence between you grew even heavier. You felt like a burden to him, and you didn’t need words to confirm it. The heavy sighs, the silent shakes of his head, his gaze lingering on you before turning away the moment you met it—they spoke volumes. But you didn’t care, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
“Husband of yours?” the Dane inquired, slight disappointment evident in his voice.
“No, just a travel companion. We both served under the Dane Slayer, but the witch has stolen his mind, and now we are here,” you spat with disdain at the mention of her, your anger and scorn genuine and unfeigned.
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Sihtric drew a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing heartbeat. It felt insane. What were you even doing here? What had Uhtred been thinking, sending you into such danger? How could he be so blind, so reckless with your life?
The anger with which he had hurled insults at Uhtred that night before departure had been genuine—the fury that Uhtred, in his bid to save his own skin, was willing to sacrifice everything, even you—his sister, his unwavering companion through all the tumultuous twists and turns of his unruly life, and in Sihtric’s eyes – certainly the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he had fallen in love with you; it seemed as if he had always felt this way, from the very first moment he laid eyes on you next to Uhtred. Your hand steady and poised on the hilt of your sword, your eyes—beautiful, deep, dark, and somewhat sorrowful—following his every move, every breath, while his own fingers quivered, his knuckles turning white from the force of gripping the hilt of Halig’s sword pressed against its owner’s throat.
As he finally dropped the sword, his fingers wrapping around Thor's hammer on his neck to swear his oath to his new lord, the resounding echo of his own words thundered in his ears and his gaze never left yours, pleading and promising.
He knew you harboured no fondness for him, no trust either, and he couldn’t blame you for it. Yet, he had hoped that with time, things would evolve, that he could earn your trust as he had Uhtred’s. Instead, he had only exposed his vulnerability, revealing himself as just a boy haunted by the ghosts of his past, far from the man or warrior he aspired to be for you.
Returning to Dunholm—the graveyard of his dreams and hopes—filled him with dread. Yet, the desire to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he was more than a frightened boy bargaining for his life, coupled with the ambition to exhibit his courage, loyalty, and perhaps earn an approving smile from the most beautiful eyes on this side of the world, had been overpowering. Only to have those hopes shattered by your pitying gaze when you encountered him that evening after the battle. With nothing left but to retreat and await another opportunity.
The journey to Bloodhair’s camp had become a nightmare of its own. He struggled to conceal his emotions, hoping that the occasional sighs he couldn’t suppress or the furtive glances he stole in your direction—quickly averting his eyes when caught—wouldn’t betray him.
Now, you were trapped here, deep within enemy territory, each day fraught with the risk of discovery and capture. While Uhtred had kept his promise to keep Brida away from the camp, the fear of her sudden appearance loomed like a raised axe; she couldn’t be deceived. She knew you better than anyone, and consumed by grief over Ragnar's loss, she was unpredictable.
Sihtric adamantly refused to let you out of his sight. It was too perilous, and the thought of you disregarding the danger drove him to the edge of madness. He kept a vigilant watch over you, growing increasingly frustrated by the day as you dismissed his concerns. How could he protect you if you refused to acknowledge the peril, insisting instead on separating to gather more information?
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You hadn’t expected it to be so easy. A satisfied smile threatened to curl on your lips as the Dane, whom you had nearly beheaded, invited you to join him at the larger fire. He settled beside you, and as the night progressed and the laughter grew louder, you didn’t push away his large palm as it found its way back to your thigh.
“I’ll be straight with you - I like you, wildcat,” he chuckled in your ear as the flames started to dwindle. “You're welcome at this fire anytime, and if you're interested, you're welcome in my tent too.”
You smiled, tilting your head to the side as you eyed the broad-shouldered man. You knew this game all too well. It was a hunt, and like every hunt, timing was everything. Let your arrow fly too soon, and you miss your prey; linger too long, and it'll slip away. It was too early for the perfect strike, but your prey was taking the bait, thinking himself the hunter. You stifled the laughter bubbling in your chest, turning it into a muffled chuckle.
“I’ll consider it,” you replied, not making any promises, just teasing, baiting. Your fingers traced a path from the Dane's shoulder over the fur cloak covering his broad chest, and you saw the trap you had laid out snap in his dark, smirking eyes. He was a worthy adversary, quite handsome even, and above all, you appreciated when men were straightforward.
If playing this game brought you closer to the talks and whispers you were so eager to hear, you were more than willing to participate.
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"What the hell do you think you're doing?" an angry hiss stung your ear just as you were about to slip into your tent, your hand instinctively reaching for the dagger behind your back.
“Damn,” you swore loudly, spotting the silhouette emerging from the shadows. “You're lucky you're still breathing.”
“I saw you with that brute. You need to be more careful. I’ve told you so many times…” If looks could kill, Sihtric would have dropped dead on the spot.
“You're not my father, you're not my brother, you're not my husband. You're nobody to me, and you have nothing to tell me,” you spat out your words at him, as if hurling daggers. Not that there was anyone in your life who could actually tell you what to do. You were your own master, and it was time for Sihtric to grasp that.
"We both have tasks here, so you'd better start with yours. Besides, I’m enjoying the company of that warrior," you hissed, throwing open the flaps of your tent, eager to vanish from Sihtric’s view as soon as possible. However, you were abruptly halted by an iron grip around your wrist.
“So, I'm a nobody,” a strange metallic tone tinged Sihtric’s voice, a quality you had never detected before, momentarily seizing your attention. You turned your head, and your surprised gaze was met by two deep pools of pure fury. “I get it. You're right, I am. I’ve been a nobody all my damn life. And who are you?”
You attempted to retrieve your hand, but Sihtric’s grip only tightened, and anger slowly churned in your stomach as your other hand stealthily slid behind your back to grasp the dagger.
"A smug and heedless badger digging deeper into its burrow, oblivious to everything happening outside. What have I done to deserve being treated like a dog? Ignored, dismissed at every turn, forced to watch you fawning over that filthy boar."
“A badger?” you snorted, your tone a mix of anger and amusement at Sihtric’s sudden outburst. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, your common sense whispered for you to cease, recognizing you had clearly crossed a line and needlessly wounded him. However, retreat and admission of fault were not traits you readily embraced. You silenced your inner voice with a smug grin, a challenge glinting in your eyes as you met Sihtric’s gaze. “That filthy boar smelled better than you ever did,” you shot back.
Your fingers instinctively wrapped around the hilt of your dagger, swiftly drawing it forth, but your attempt lacked the element of surprise; Sihtric had anticipated your move. Through countless sparring sessions, he had grown familiar with your tricks.
Releasing your wrist, Sihtric deftly parried your armed hand, swiftly yanking it back and leveraging the motion to flip you over, simultaneously seizing the dagger from your grasp and positioning it threateningly against your throat, while pressing your back firmly against his chest.
With a furious stomp on his foot, you exploited the moment of distraction to drive your elbow into Sihtric’s abdomen. He grimaced in pain, doubling over and gasping for breath, giving you the opportunity to sidestep and confront him face-to-face. But before you could act further, Sihtric’s arms encircled your waist, using his weight to shove you backwards, sending both of you tumbling through the tent entrance.
You grunted as your back collided with the fur-laid ground. Before you could formulate your next move, Sihtric landed atop you, straddling your waist and pinning your arms above your head. A primal growl escaped you as you squirmed and struggled against his restraint.
“That’s enough. Cease this. Surrender. I don’t wish to harm you,” Sihtric attempted a conciliatory tone, but the smug smirk on his lips was impossible to conceal.
“Never,” you hissed through gritted teeth, persisting in your furious struggle against Sihtric’s grasp.
With your breath coming in panting gasps and your mind racing, seeking any possible escape route, you initially even failed to register what was happening. The sensation of Sihtric’s lips against yours was scorching, his hands still restraining you, refusing to release their hold. Your eyes widened in astonishment as you momentarily ceased your futile resistance, the anger pulsating within you fading like a dying ember in a gentle breeze.
Though your muscles relaxed and the frantic struggle abated, Sihtric gave no indication of noticing, his grip still firm, his weight pressing you down as his lips fervently explored yours, kissing you with rough, bruising intensity.
You could swear your heart leapt into your throat, its rapid thudding almost deafening, as you struggled to suppress the burgeoning excitement. Yet, your own body betrayed you, a fiery heat igniting in your belly, matching the rhythm of Sihtric’s lips moving against yours.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as a soft whine escaped you, but Sihtric suddenly pulled away, releasing your arms and sitting back on his heels. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your dagger lying on the ground nearby, just out of reach.
“I’m sorry. I... I didn’t mean to…” Sihtric stammered, confusion evident on his handsome face as he scratched the back of his head. In that moment, you saw your opportunity. With a swift motion, you toppled him over toward the dagger, and in the blink of an eye, you were straddling him, the blade at his throat and a triumphant smirk on your lips.
"Gotcha," you laughed, intoxicated by the feeling of regaining control, not even pausing to consider that the victory might have been too easy.
Leaning in closer until your noses nearly touched, you watched him intently, breathing in his scent — leather, fire smoke, and ale mingled with the sweet aroma of his skin, both warming and exhilarating. A subdued chuckle escaped your lips as you noticed the mischievous sparks dancing in Sihtric’s large, expressive, two-toned eyes, a hint of suspicion creeping in that perhaps your agility alone wasn’t solely responsible for this small triumph.
Sihtric’s wide-eyed pupils tracked your every move, and in the sudden silence, you felt as if you could hear both your hearts beating frantically, breaths hitching in your chests. You pressed the dagger just a fraction tighter against his skin, enough to draw a few red drops trickling down the blade. Despite the slight pierce, not a single flinch touched Sihtric’s face as he slowly tilted his head backward, fully exposing his throat to you, his gaze still locked with yours.
The air crackled with anticipation, both your breaths quickening. Had you paused to consider, you might have chosen differently, but in that moment, your mind was suddenly empty. All that remained was the memory of the warm, thrilling sensation that had filled your core just a moment before. With a trembling exhale, you crushed your lips against Sihtric’s. The muted growl that tore through him sent shivers down your spine as you released the dagger and cupped his face, pulling him closer.
Sihtric’s strong arms enveloped your shoulders, and you gasped as you were flipped over effortlessly, like a feather. Once again beneath Sihtric’s towering frame, pressed against the fur with the weight of his body, you didn’t resist. Your fingers tangled in Sihtric’s hair as you dared not let go, your lips seeking his, parting with a hushed moan to welcome his greedy, heated tongue.
“Do you surrender?” A mischievous smile danced on Sihtric’s lips as he finally pulled away from your red, kiss-swollen lips.
“Never,” you smirked, reaching out to pull him into another passionate kiss.
With a soft whimper, you arched your back against the hard ground, covered only by a thin fur, as Sihtric’s hands began to roam over your clothes. He deftly tugged at the laces, liberating you from the leathers that concealed your skin from his touch. 
Your hands were just as eager, but he was quicker. You had barely managed to pull off his leather jerkin, revealing his incredibly well built upper body to your bewildered gaze, as he freed you from the last piece of cloth, a sharp gasp leaving his chest as his ravenous gaze slid over your naked frame. 
“We’ll see,” Sihtric chuckled while his lips trailed a hot path down your neck, making you gasp for air each time he sucked on your exposed skin, leaving teasing stings on his way to your chest. His skin against yours was warm and pleasantly soft and you found yourself unable to fight against the deep moan swaying through you, as his mouth closed around your hardening nipples.  
“My beautiful unyielding warrior,” Sihtric’s lips continued their travel down your naked body, his low, husky voice sending shivers down your spine, “I’m going to make you feel so good as you have never felt before, I’ll show you the stars, and you will yield to me, willingly.” 
“Oh gods,” was all you could murmur as his hands took hold of your hips, keeping you in place, and his tongue swept through your core. He knew exactly what he was doing, as his lips wrapped around your pearl, sucking gently, a satisfied hum leaving him as you choked on your own breath each time the lap of his hot tongue sent a new wave of shudders through your body, building up the pleasure, that slowly overtook all your senses.
Eyes rolling back into your head, you buried your teeth in your lower lip, in a futile attempt to keep quiet, but you couldn’t. Wild moans rolled over your lips as Sihtric was bringing you closer to the edge. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined the silent and hesitant young warrior being able to bring you to the brink of madness so masterly and so quickly. 
Another deep moan swayed through you as he forced two fingers inside you.
Sihtric grinned in satisfaction, loving the lewd sounds, rolling over your parted lips, drinking in the sight of you - hair wild and dishevelled, eyes half lid and rolling back in your head, breath heavy and panting, hips moving up and down against his fingers - the most beautiful sight he could ever imagine. He had always dreamed of having you buried beneath him like this, yet he had never dared to believe it could actually come true.
You whined loudly as he suddenly pulled away.
“Sihtric, please, I need more,” you mewled in a desperate need to have him back.
“You need more of what?” he smirked, placing a tender kiss on your inner thigh. You shuddered, feeling his breath so close to where you wanted him. 
“I need you,” you whimpered through panting breaths.
“So beautiful, so wild and unruly,” Sihtric hummed as his mouth travelled to your other thigh, “So fucking perfect for me.”
“Gods, Sihtric, please, I need you,” you whined, your voice cracking.
“Are you yielding, my fiercest warrior?” Sihtric asked, delving his tongue in your dripping heat, just to retrieve again. 
“I am, fuck, I am,” you moaned breathlessly, forgetting everything – your pride, your ego, your anger – there was no room for any other emotion as the overwhelming yearning for Sihtric’s touch. With a satisfied hum, Sihtric thrusted his fingers back in your tight channel, starting to pump them in and out, and you were swept away by the new wave of pleasure.
You were already so close to the edge, feeling the warmth, cursing through your body pooling into one large flame. Your fingers dug in the fur beneath you in an attempt to hold on to something, to ground yourself, as your head snapped back, your body went taut and your walls started to clench around Sihtric’s fingers.
“Yes, that’s good. I can feel you, come for me, beautiful,” Sihtric murmured softly, his tongue starting to circle around and lap over your sensitive nub, and there was no way of holding it back any longer. You felt like a tightly drawn bow suddenly released, the tension snapping and transforming into pure energy, as you came on Sihtric’s fingers and tongue, your climax washing over you in waves of pure bliss, your body trembling and shuddering from the intensity of it. 
Sihtric kept fucking you through your orgasm with his fingers, letting you savour the moment and the sinfull sensation, pulsing through your vanes like an inferno, sweeping away everything in it’s way. You were blank, like an empty parchment. Carried away in the current of pleasure you floated somewhere between this world and the other.
“You are mine now, my sweet wildflower,” Sihtric’s voice reached through your hazy mind, grounding you back to earth. “You yielded, and now you are mine.”
You wanted to protest, to reject his claim, but the words forming on your tongue dissolved in the tenderness of Sihtric’s kiss, his fingers delicately tracing your cheek.
“Say it again,” you whispered, locking eyes with his mismatched gaze.
“You are mine,” Sihtric affirmed, his voice low and soft yet resolute, causing your heart to quicken. Whom were you trying to fool here? Wasn’t this what you had secretly dreamed of since that night in Dunholm, though too afraid to acknowledge it fully?
Silence hung between you until you mustered the courage to break it. “I am yours, Sihtric,” you murmured, savouring the weight of your own words. They felt unfamiliar yet strangely satisfying, even liberating. The groan that escaped Sihtric made you grin, as his lips found yours again, stealing your breath away.
You yelped as Sihtric’s strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion, carrying you to the pile of furs serving as your bed and placing you carefully on top of it. You propped yourself up on your elbows and sat upright, watching Sihtric hastily getting rid of his breeches, a sharp exhale vibrating through your chest at the sight of his hard cock. He was big, and you were not a novice in that matter. The thought alone of him inside you, made your core pulse in pleasant anticipation. 
“You are a big boy,” you mused, as he approached, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and giving it a teasing lick from tip to root, feeling it throb in your hand. You wrapped your lips around it and let your tongue slide over the sensitive tip. Sihtric moaned, shuddering at your touch.
“Do you think you can handle me?” 
You just smirked at him in response, as Sihtric pushed you firmly back on the furs, crawling on top of you, crowding you like a wild beast. There was something wolfish in his demeanour, his tense, perfectly chiselled muscles rippling beneath his skin, his eyes darkening as if fixated on prey.
“I'm not gonna go easy on you,” his husky voice dripped into your ears like sweet poison, thrilling and intoxicating. It made every hair on your body stand on end and wetness pool between your legs, leaving you to wonder whether it was a warning or a promise. You had never seen him like this, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t excite you. There was evidently much more to discover beneath the reserved and bashful exterior of the young warrior, and you weren't just curious—you were burning with desire to explore.
“Sihtric, just fuck me,” you exclaimed, pulling him in for a heated kiss, and Sihtric groaned against your mouth, aligning himself with your cunt. He pushed into you, and you moaned loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders, savouring the delicious stretch as your walls took him in, pulsing around him.
There was nothing gentle in the way he fucked you, and now you understood why he had cared to place you on the big, soft keep of furs. His hips thrusted against you with a crushing power, showing you ever higher up the keep, skin snapping against skin, relentlessly pushing himself into you until the very end of his length.
His groans and hisses mingled with your moans and you were sure the half of the camp had by now definitely heard you, the fabric of the tent not an obstacle for the sounds, but you couldn’t care less. You enjoyed every single deep thrust, every single brush of his cock against that sweet swollen spot deep inside you, that made your back arch and your eyes roll back in your head, the familiar heat pooling into your belly and turning into hot, searing flame.
“Gods, how good you feel around me,” Sihtric hissed between panting breaths and you just mewled something incomprehensible in response too lost in your pleasure for any words or even coherent thoughts.
Having you here, writhing beneath him, taking his cock and moaning in pleasure, your nails leaving marks on his skin, exceeded Sihtric's wildest hopes. He had aimed to earn your trust, perhaps your friendship, but this was something else, something he didn’t dare to put a name to, not yet. 
You had so unexpectedly gotten under his sway, and he desired nothing more than to please you, to immerse you in the most breathtaking sensations he could offer. For despite his longing for your surrender, there was something he craved even more.
“You are nobody to me,” you had spat in anger, and those words cut deeper than any blade ever could. He would have accepted anything from you—hate, anger—but not indifference, not from you.
Sihtric felt your walls start to clench around him, telling him that you were close to the edge. 
“Common, my beautiful warrior, you can give me more,” he growled, fastening his pace, eyes getting glassy and breath rugged, as he was chasing his own release now. 
“Fuck, Sihtric, I … I can’t anymore,” you hissed and after few more thrusts you were there, the pooling heat exploded within you, rolling over you, engulfing you and you let yourself fell into that blissful state where nothing else mattered apart from the indescribable, otherworldly pleasure washing over you in hot waves. 
Sihtric kept fucking you through your orgasm, savouring the feeling of your walls shuddering and clenching around him, squeezing him, until he couldn’t hold back anymore and he came, spilling his seed deep inside you with a throbbing groan.
Sihtric collapsed beside you, pulling you into his embrace, his panting breath hot against your sweaty skin as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck. He wanted to prolong this moment, to stretch it into infinity, as somewhere deep inside him, he dreaded what would come after, unconsciously fearing that there actually might be no after.
Your head still hazy and spinning from the intensity of your climax, you turned slowly to face him. Your eyes roamed his handsome face, pausing at the scars on his forehead and right cheek. His embrace was firm, somewhat possessive, yet simultaneously tender, attuned to your every move, every breath. Like a young wolf resting after a good hunt—relaxed but alert—your wolf, your wild beast, ready to be tamed.
"You okay?" Sihtric asked, gently tucking your hair behind your ear, his thumb hovering over your cheek.
You simply nodded, unable to find your voice, enchanted by the soothing calmness radiating from Sihtric, having no idea about the tempest raging behind that shell. He smiled and leaned in, brushing his lips over yours.
"I might be nobody to you, but you are everything to me," Sihtric's gaze locked with yours, his heart racing in his chest with maddening speed. It was the moment of truth he had always dreaded. He surrendered his heart to you, knowing there were only two possibilities: acceptance or rejection.
"You are not nobody, you never have been. You are mine. I drew your blood, and I claimed you," you stated boldly, meeting his gaze with determination. "You are mine, Sihtric Kjartansson," you repeated firmly, "and I am yours."
A deep sigh of relief escaped Sihtric as he pulled you back into his embrace, his lips affirming your claim with a passionate kiss.
"A badger!" you suddenly laughed, recalling how it all began, leading to this moment of firm embrace you never wanted to end. "You called me a badger!" you snorted, playfully punching him in the stomach.
“My wild, ignorant, beautiful badger,” Sihtric chuckled in response, gently nuzzling your dishevelled hair.
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sluttywonwoo · 9 months
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hiii, congrats on 12k!!! not surprised, but very happy for you! can i request a “if you called just to get off to my voice, im hanging up” + wonwoo (who else, honestly)? i think you’d have a great concept considering your #1 whore for wonwoo
i’m honored to receive such a title <3
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he answers on the fourth ring. his voice is raspy, coated with sleep and annoyance.
“what do you want?”
“i uh, i just missed you,” you say into the receiver.
it isn’t a lie. you just aren’t missing him in the way you’re implying. you’re sure wonwoo will be able to see right through that but you’re hoping he’s been just as horny as you’ve been and will go along with it.
“what?”
“i missed you.”
silence follows, making you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep before you hear him scoff.
“missed me how?”
“oh you know… like i’d miss any other friend-”
“if you called just to get off to my voice, i’m hanging up.”
“wait!” you shout, likely startling the poor man who had just been trying to sleep. “how’d you know?”
“i can hear your vibrator.”
your grip on the toy tightens and you fumble with the buttons, trying to turn it off. god damn speaker phone.
“how? it was under the covers and everything!”
“all of my other senses are pretty strong since i can’t see shit. they say that lacking in one heightens the others, you know?”
“i guess?”
“i haven’t seen you in weeks either. it wasn’t hard to guess what you’re doing or why you’re calling.”
your lips press into a pout even though he can’t see you.
“well, goodnight then,” he mumbles.
“wait, don’t!” you plead again. “please, nonu…”
he groans. the nickname always got him. always. it’s how you’d convinced him to do so many things with you over the years.
“don’t…” he grumbles.
“you’re not the tiniest bit turned on?” you ask. “you don’t like the idea of me fucking myself in my bed to the thought of you?”
“it’s not that i don’t like it, it’s that i need to sleep.”
“but please,” you groan. “i can’t cum without you anymore. i’ve been trying for days now and nothing works.”
“fuck.”
you grin. the way to his dick has always been through his ego.
“make it quick,” he sighs out.
you giggle, cheering quietly as you turn your vibrator back on.
“are you going to touch yourself too?” you ask eagerly.
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“well, yeah.”
“maybe.” he sounds indifferent and you can picture him shrugging. “if you make those pretty noises i like so much, i might not be able to resist.”
“i’ll do whatever you want. just keep talking.”
“and what is it you want me to say to you, huh? you want to hear how much i miss you? how i have to fuck my hand to the thought of you every night just to get to sleep? already did it tonight that’s why i was dead asleep when you called but i might get hard again if you don’t stop moaning like that.”
“fuck, wonwoo.”
“feeling good, baby? bet you wish it was me there instead of that stupid toy right?”
“yes,” you cry. “wish it was you. miss your cock so much… i wish you’d just come home already.”
“it’s only another week,” he reasons.
“that’s too long!”
“you’ll live.”
“i won’t,” you groan.
“that’s why you had to call me?” he teases. you can hear the smile in his voice.
“uh huh.”
“needed to hear my voice so you could cum?”
“y-yes.”
“guess you just have to hope i’m feeling nice enough to let you,” he muses.
“what?”
“don’t you remember? when we’re together i decide when you cum. that includes over the phone.”
“but wonwoo-”
“you’re the one who called me,” he reminds you. “so if you really want it you’ll just have to work for it.”
12k celebration
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