#wet cat...yep

[tazzyz]

list of Ace Attorney characters that could and would beat Barok van Zieks in a fight:

Pearl Fey

Godot

Phoenix Wright (by exausting him)

Shelly De Killer

Franziska von Karma (with the whip)

Manfred von Karma (with the power of his 600k volts taser and also the gun he found)

Damon Gant

and i haven't played Apollo Justice but im adding Kristoph Gavin depending on how much prep time he has

[bucky-barnes-lover]

Kinktober day 17: Henry Cavill

Lumberjack! Henry Cavill x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, Poorly written Oral (m receiving), Slight Praise kink, Slight Size kink

W.C: 653

The sound of wood being cut echoed around the tin shed. I stood in the doorway watching my husband cutting up firewood.

"Dinner's almost ready" I yelled to him, over the noise.

"I'll be inside in a minute, love" He responded. His silky british accent sent shivers down my spine.

"Okay. I'll set the table." I responded, feeling my face heat up. I could tell Henry was smirking as he watched me walk away. He knows I get all flustered when he calls me Love.

I could hear him chopping a couple more blocks of wood as I made my way inside our cozy cabin, out in the forest.

The table was set and dinner was laid out on the table.

"Could you please put some more wood on the fire, Baby" I asked him as he brought in the sack of wood and placed it near the fireplace.

"Yep. Was just about to do that." Henry grunted as he kneeled down to place more wood on the flames.

"What's for dinner, Love?" He questioned as I took his bowl.

"Shepherd's pie, Your favorite" I advised seeing his face lit up with a huge smile.

We had dinner in peace, complete with a glass of red wine and small talk.

Henry offered to do the dishes as I went for a shower.

I lay on our bed, cozy in my silk pajamas and the warm fluffy blanket.

Henry came out of the bathroom, shirtless with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

I inhaled, my heart stuck in my throat. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling the wetness.

"Cat got your tongue Love?" Henry asked as he saw my reaction. He was undeniably big underneath all those clothes and not just his height.

"I want you to fuck me" I whispered, without thinking twice.

"What was that love?" He smirked,

"I want you to fuck me, Henry" I stated, sounding a lot more stubborn than I thought.

"My dear girl gets all wet and turned on when she sees her man, so much bigger than her" He mocked, removing the towel from around his waist.

His huge cock sprung free. Hard and ready, I got on my knees without question and wrapped my hands around him. Spreading the precum along his cock before taking him in my mouth. Henry let out an animalistic growl while I worked my tongue around him. Taking him even further in my mouth, gagging a couple times but never once backing out.

"Fuck love. You feel so good" He moaned as he grabbed a handful of my hair and started thrusting into my mouth.

Drool seeped down my chin onto my pj's, moans escaped my lips. Finally I let him out of my mouth with a 'pop'.

Before I could comprehend what was going on, Henry picked me up and threw me on the bed, sliding my pajama shorts and panties down my legs.

"You were a good girl just now. Continuing being the good girl I taught you to be" He growled before sliding his thick cock through my folds. I didn't even have time to adjust to his size before he started thrusting in and out of me. Feeling me up so good, causing me to scream his name.

"Fuck Henry" I moaned as he worked himself in and out.

"Don't cum until I tell you to. Understand that Love?" He questioned, staring me dead in the eye. I nodded pathetically, basically begging for release. Henry started rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I felt myself coming closer to my orgasm, but just as I was about to cum, Henry pulled out of me. Leaving me feeling suddenly empty.

"Why'd you do that for Hen?!" I asked angrily. He just smirked in response. "Because the only way I'm going to let you cum is by my tongue." He replied coldly.

And that was how it ended.

NOT PROOF READ!!!

Please re blog if u do like it, I really appreciate all the support

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Headlock part 2 (part 1 in case you've missed it)

Hamzah X Reader (GN)

SFW, Socially awkward reader, Falling in love

The support I’ve received for my first fic has been incredible—thank you so much! I hope you enjoy part 2 as well. And feel free to let me know if you’d like me to write smut ;)

You were greeted by the comforting warmth of your house, making you strip off the heavy winter clothes still dusted with snow.

You hung them neatly on the coat rack and gestured for Hamzah to do the same.

He moved hesitantly, his stiff movements showing his unease despite his attempt to mask it.

You didn’t blame him. You were nervous too.

Having someone over, let alone someone you’d only met today, was unfamiliar territory.

Your nerves, however, melted away the moment your cat trotted over, her tail held high as she meowed incessantly.

“Hello, Marie!” you cooed in a baby voice, kneeling to scoop up the purring white ball of fluff into your arms.

Behind you, you heard Hamzah let out a soft, surprised “Oh.”as soon as he saw her.

“Now that’s a cute pussy.” he quipped, his tone playful as he finished unbuttoning his coat.

“She is.” you replied, grinning as Marie settled comfortably in your arms.

You carried her into the kitchen, setting her down briefly to fetch a can of wet food from the pantry.

Hamzah followed, lingering in the doorway almost waiting for you to tell him“make yourself at home” to move an inch.

Marie’s cries got louder as you opened the can, rubbing her head on your legs impatiently.

“Aristocats?” The boy suddenly asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Yep. That’s actually where I got her name.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The little fancy one, right? Marie?”

“Exactly.” You chuckled, setting Marie’s food into her bowl as she pawed at your leg. “You got any pets, Hamzah?”

His eyes darted to you as soon as you said his name, his expression growing more flustered.

“Yeah…” he muttered, quickly looking away. “Got two. Blue and Red.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers rubbing through his— now uncovered —curly head of hair.

“Original names, huh?” He teased, the corner of his mouth forming into a grin.

That name caught you off guard, you honestly thought he was joking.

But his expression was serious, his eyes fixed on yours as if trying to read your thoughts.

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment, but the weight of all the built-up tension finally cracked.

A chuckle slipped out as you hastily brought a hand to your mouth in a weak attempt to stifle the sound.

But despite your efforts, your laugh slipped out anyway.

Hamzah’s initial embarrassment faded as he watched your joy. His lips curled into a smile, soft and genuine, like he couldn’t help but be infected by your laughter.

“It sounds like a kid named them after the Pokémon game.” you managed to gasp between giggles, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

Seeing Hamzah genuinely smile, his eyes crinkling as he watched you, made your heart flutter.

The awkward tension that had lingered in the room melted away, replaced by a shared sense of joy.

It reminded you of the carefree atmosphere in the car earlier, that fleeting moment of ease between the two of you now making its return.

As the laughter subsided, Hamzah shook his head, a wry but amused grin on his face.

You quickly checked your phone and saw it was already past 11 p.m.

It’s late. Your gaze shifted to the window, where the storm continued to rage, snow hitting the ground with such a force that you could hear it even from inside.

Even though you'd felt quite drained at the party earlier, all this laughing had recharged your energy. You weren't the least bit sleepy now, even as the storm raged on outside.

Hamzah, on the other hand, seemed distracted, his attention fixed on his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, and the slight furrow of his brow suggested he was deep in thought-or perhaps just scrolling mindlessly.

You took advantage of the moment he wasn't looking, studying him quietly.

You never imagined you’d fall for a guy this quickly, but damn, he was gorgeous.

The sharp lines of his profile seemed almost softer now that you looked at him again.

His perfect curly brown hair caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but wonder how effortlessly your fingers would glide through the soft curls.

His lips, a soft shade of pink, were impossibly pretty, even when they weren’t smiling.

You were ashamed of the effect this stranger had on you, and it suddenly hit you: you were going to have to spend the night with him in your house.

It was late, and the storm showed no sign of giving up.

“Uhm… I’m sorry, I’m not prepared for this,” you muttered, setting your phone down before heading to a closet next to the kitchen.

You rummaged through it, pulling out a baby blue pillow and a fuzzy Hello Kitty blanket.

You couldn’t help but feel a little jealous; that blue pillow was incredibly soft, and the Hello Kitty blanket was one of your favorites as it always kept you warm.

You usually reserved those for special occasions, snowy nights like this, when you had time to yourself to relax with some TV and a cup of hot chocolate.

But you supposed this counted as a special occasion too, given the unexpected visit.

You placed them on your white couch and then glanced at Hamzah, then back at the couch.

It suddenly dawned on you—the couch was far too small to fit a man like him.

He chuckled softly. “Thank you.”walking over to where you just set his bedding.

Sitting down, he patted the pillow a few times.

“You’re not going to fit on that, are you?” you sighed, still unsure how this was going to work.

Hamzah laid on his side, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

Both of you couldn’t help but laugh like a couple of kids.

“Hey, at least the pillow’s comfortable,” Hamzah said, his smiling face slowly sinking into the soft pillow.

“Of course it is,” you chuckled. “It’s a silk pillowcase, honey.”

The nickname caught him off guard, making him giggle. His shoulders shaking with laughter while his face still buried in the pillow.

You could just make out the pink hue spreading across his cheeks as his smile grew.

When his face rose from the pillow, your eyes met, both of you slightly flushed and smiling as the awkwardness of the situation.

Your mind raced, trying to figure out how to organize the bed situation. It felt rude to make a guest sleep on the floor, especially someone like Hamzah, who had gone out of his way to drive you home.

The problem was, there wasn’t a guest room. Just your one bedroom, with one queen-sized bed. The right side was usually reserved for Marie, but it could technically fit two people.

Still, the idea of sharing your bed with a man—especially Hamzah—made your face heat up.

“I—if you want… you could sleep on the other side of my bed.” you blurted out, your words racing to finish the sentence as fast as humanly possible.

Your heart pounded as you stared down at your feet, your face growing hotter by the second. You didn’t dare look at him, too afraid of what his reaction might be.

What felt like an eternity of silence passed. Finally, you risked a glance at Hamzah, who was still lying there with the side of his head half-sunken into the pillow.

“That’s not—no, I can comfortably sleep here.” he said, scooting himself awkwardly along the couch. His long legs tangled with the cushions, and his head awkwardly tilted off the armrest. “I just need to— get myself—“

A nervous chuckle escaped you as he tried to adjust, grunting at the impossibility of it.

“Your Saddam Hussein ass cannot fit in there, boy.” you teased, half scoffing at the sight of the wiggling giant trying to squeeze himself onto your too-small couch.

Hamzah’s laughter echoed through the room, until it forced him to stop and catch his breath. He slumped back against the couch, his hands resting heavily on his thighs, his expression a mix of amusement and surrender.

Without saying a word, you grabbed the pillow and blanket, stuffing them back into the closet with a brisk efficiency.

Your footsteps were steady as you headed to your bedroom. Hamzah followed, the soft shuffle of his movements just behind you.

You entered your room, nerves tightening your chest. This space felt so much more personal—your space, now shared.

The walls were lined with posters and little mementos of your life, fragments of who you were.

Stuffed animals sat on your bed and shelves, their familiar presence a stark contrast to the awkward vulnerability you suddenly felt as Hamzah stepped in behind you.

It wasn’t just a room—it was you. And now Hamzah was seeing it all.

When you gestured to your bed, his shoulders seemed to relax slightly as his eyes swept over its size.

“You’ll definitely fit,” you said, smoothing out a pillow on the right side, your voice as casual as you could manage. You turned back around, planting your hands on your hips in what you hoped was a calm, composed stance, even though your heartbeat betrayed you.

Hamzah’s brow furrowed slightly, his uncertainty lingering. His hesitation made you question, for a fleeting moment, whether this was a good idea after all.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice dipping into something almost apologetic. “I hope you didn’t feel pressured to do this.”

He nervously laughed and rubbed his forehead, his hand acting as a flimsy barrier to hide his face.

You shook your head quickly, a nervous smile tugging at your lips as you fussed with the pillow again, needing something to do with your hands. “No, it’s fine. Really.”

Your words felt like a promise, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was to you or to the man standing behind you.

12 a.m., and you found yourself locked in the bathroom.

This time, it was your bathroom, and you’d just hurriedly thrown on your pajamas—a matching two-piece set covered in cartoony giraffes.

You hadn’t even thought about it, grabbing the closest thing in your closet in sheer panic with Hamzah right behind you.

At least they weren’t terrible. The silky blue fabric felt soft against your skin, the button-up top and flowy pants giving off a cozy vibe—if not for the overly playful giraffes printed all over them.

After brushing your teeth and rushing through a quick skincare routine, you stared at yourself in the mirror, debating whether to step out.

You checked your reflection for the hundredth time: hair down, plain white socks on, and an expression that couldn’t decide between mortified or amused.

Finally, you took a deep breath and cracked the door open.

The hallway was silent. Too silent. Hamzah was nowhere in sight, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d just left entirely. The thought made your stomach twist, though you weren’t sure if it was relief or disappointment.

You stepped cautiously out of the bathroom, padding your way to the bedroom.

There he was.

Hamzah sat on the edge of your bed, scratching Marie’s back as she purred loudly, her tail flicking happily in the air. He was grinning, clearly amused by her reaction, but quickly turned his head away when she stuck her butt a little too close to his face.

You stifled a laugh, though your flustered smile gave you away. Hamzah glanced up at you then, his hand pausing mid-pet as his gaze lingered for a second before darting away.

Marie wasn’t having the sudden lack of attention and promptly threw herself against his hand with an indignant meow.

The scene was so unexpectedly wholesome that your nerves began to settle. You found yourself smiling at him, heart still fluttering but in a softer, calmer way.

Hamzah returned the smile, shy but warm, before redirecting his attention back to the demanding cat.

Neither of you said a word. You didn’t need to.

Quietly, you made your way to the other side of the bed and sat down, the comfort of the moment washing over you like a soft winter blanket.

You had braced yourself for the awkwardness of having Hamzah right beside you in bed, but to your surprise, it wasn’t as overwhelming as you’d imagined.

Whether it was Marie acting as the perfect buffer or Hamzah’s calm demeanor grounding you, the tension had started to fade.

Lying flat on your bed, you distracted yourself by scrolling on your phone until Hamzah eventually got up. You heard his soft footsteps making their way to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Naturally, Marie trailed behind him, her little paws padding noisily on the floor.

A moment later, his voice echoed from the bathroom.

“Excuse me, Miss. I’m trying to pee. This is very inappropriate behavior.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at the absurdity. Muffled sounds of Hamzah’s one-sided conversation with Marie followed, mixed with occasional outbursts as she presumably knocked over items or tried to dismantle the toilet paper roll.

When he finally returned, Hamzah looked worn out but amused, Marie trotting triumphantly behind him and hopping onto the bed.

“I think she likes me.” he said with a playful grin, his hand already reaching out to pet her fluffy fur.

“Definitely. She only ever follows me to the bathroom.” you replied with a teasing pout, extending your hand for Marie, who gladly rubbed against it.

By now, you had settled in comfortably—your body tucked under the covers, head resting on your pillow, with the lights dimmed just enough to feel cozy.

You and Hamzah laughed together as Marie basked in the attention, purring like a little diva. The whole situation felt so ridiculous yet strangely comforting, like your usual nights alone.

Eventually, Hamzah turned to you, his expression softening as he slid under the covers on his side of the bed.

“Hey, uh… I’m not a snorer,” he said, his voice dipping into a mock-serious tone. “But if you feel a kick or two during the night, just know it’s not Marie.”

You giggled, watching as his tall frame settled into your girly bed, his feet rubbing together under the sheets as he got comfortable.

He looked so peaceful as he closed his eyes, his usual energy dimmed but still radiating a quiet warmth.

For a moment, you just watched him, feeling a strange mix of contentment and disbelief at how unexpectedly sweet this night had turned out.

You turned your back to him, not wanting to risk him waking up and catching you staring at him like some kind of creep.

Still, his presence lingered, impossible to ignore—the subtle sound of his steady breathing, the faint warmth radiating from his body. It wrapped around you in a way that felt oddly reassuring, like the winter chill had no chance of seeping in as long as he was there.

You wouldn’t deny it: having someone else in your bed was… nice. The loneliness you often felt in the quiet hours of the night was dulled, replaced by a sense of safety.

Like if something as absurd as a burglar barging in were to happen, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, willing yourself to focus on your exhaustion; The heaviness in your limbs, the pull of sleep beckoning you.

You let the comfort of the moment settle over you, hoping it would be enough to carry you into dreams.

But Hamzah shifted behind you, the bed creaking softly as he adjusted his position.

“Hey, uh…” His voice was quiet, hesitant, almost like he wasn’t sure if you were still awake.

You opened your eyes but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

There was a pause, long enough that you almost thought he’d decided against speaking.

“You know, I was nervous about this too.”

That made you turn your head slightly, though you still didn’t face him fully.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Well, to be honest with you,” he admitted, “I wasn’t enjoying that party at all. Not a big fan of them on general.”

You felt your heart soften at his honesty. “Me neither,” you admitted. “But… when you and Martin showed up, I felt better. It was nice, you know? Having you around.”

The words came out easier than you expected, like butter melting over warm toast. “You two made my day better.” you added, your voice quiet but steady.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way his eyes widened slightly, surprised.

Turning toward him, you let a smile break across your face. His expression was unreadable at first, somewhere between disbelief and something softer, warmer.

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking a little bit.

You nodded, your smile growing playfully. “Really.”

His own smile slowly followed, hesitant at first, then genuine and sincere.

“That’s nice to hear,” he said. “I’m glad.”

Hamzah shifted slightly, resting back against the pillows, his head tilted toward you while a finger played with one of his many curls on his head.

“It was nice to be around you too.” he said now with a serious face, still looking into your eyes. “You’re caring… you know? You didn’t hesitate to let me sleep at your house.”

Hamzah looked down, his eyes darting quickly like he was trying to find the words to say.

“So… yeah, thank you.” He seemed to not find the words he was looking for so he resorted to thanking you, his face still serious.

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but you didn’t look away this time.

Instead, you let the comfortable quiet settle again, a shared understanding between the two of you.

After a moment Hamzah stretched his arms slightly before settling under the covers again. “Well, I guess I shall try not to kick you off the bed tonight.” he joked, his tone light but tinged with sleepiness.

You chuckled, tucking yourself back into your spot. “Yeah, try to keep the kicking to a minimum.”

As his eyes closed, his breathing evened out, and the room fell into a peaceful stillness.

You found yourself smiling faintly as you turned back over, his earlier words replaying in your mind.

You closed your eyes again, his presence no longer just reassuring but comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

As sleep began to pull you under, you realized it wasn’t just having someone in your bed that made you feel less alone—it was having him.

You were jolted awake by a voice echoing from the hallway. It was unmistakable—Hamzah’s.

“I know you’re hungry… Girl, let me walk—“ Hamzah was stumbling down the hallway, his steps unsteady, while Marie swirled around his legs, brushing against him and meowing insistently.

As soon as he caught sight of you from the doorway, he froze. There he was, standing with his pants halfway down, boxers peeking out.

You stifled a laugh and got up to feed your cat.

“D’you want something to eat?” you asked, opening the pantry. You stared inside, and your heart sank at the sad sight: a couple of snack bars, cereal, some pasta, and a few other non-breakfast items.

“…Cereal?” you muttered, holding up a box of Cheerios.

Hamzah giggled, clearly amused by the poor selection. “Sure.”

You both dug into the Honey Nut Cheerios, with Hamzah finishing his bowl so quickly that you barely had time to pour milk into yours.

“I don’t waste any food,” he said matter-of-factly before grabbing your bowl and drinking the milk you’d left behind.

After breakfast, you both wandered over to the window, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape. The storm had calmed, though it had raged fiercely through the night, waking you several times—though you suspected part of it was because Hamzah’s legs kept kicking yours in his sleep.

You both stepped outside, the thick layer of snow crunching underfoot, sinking up to your ankles.

“Damn—do you have a shovel?” Hamzah asked, stomping through the snow. His footprints left an oddly funny trail behind him.

“A shovel?” you replied, fully aware that you had never owned a tool in your life. “No. Why?”

“The driveway’s coated,” he said, hands on his hips, adopting the stance of an overly concerned dad eyeing the driveway.

He turned to look at you, as if expecting you to pull out a shovel from thin air.

Without thinking, you scooped up a handful of snow, shaped it into a snowball, and tossed it aside. You heard Hamzah chuckle, but you ignored it, focused on the your work.

After a while of Hamzah making fun of you, he joined.

He started scooping up snow with both arms, grunting as he tossed it aside with exaggerated effort.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him working so hard at something so simple.

But the moment he noticed you laughing, he froze, then crouched down and balled up a small chunk of snow in his hand.

“You’re really laughing at me while this—” he held up the snowball, his voice teasing. “Is what you’re picking up?”

You shot him a glare, your brows furrowed in mock anger.

Before you could respond, he threw the snowball at you, hitting your chest with a satisfying thump.

Your expression hardened, shifting into a competitive glare. The two of you stood there, like two cowboys facing off in an old Western, ready to duel in the cold.

You crouched down, preparing your own snowball, and Hamzah mirrored you, his eyes fixed on your every move as he shaped another one. You knew he was waiting for you to make the first move.

But you weren’t stupid. Instead of lobbing your snowball at him immediately, you threw it high into the air.

Hamzah flinched, eyes tracking the trajectory of the flying snowball, and as soon as he looked away, you ducked behind a nearby bush, darting out of sight.

You could hear him muttering to himself, frustrated but amused, as he searched the snow for you.

Then, the moment was yours.

You grabbed a fresh handful of snow, quickly forming it into a tight ball, and sprinted out from behind the bush, aiming straight for his back.

It hit him square between the shoulders. He spun around, wide-eyed, a mix of surprise and laughter crossing his face.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” he said, his voice full of mock disbelief.

Before you could react, Hamzah lunged toward you, his grin widening as he scooped up more snow. His hands moved quickly, shaping the snow into another ball with surprising speed.

You barely had time to scramble backward, laughing, as he threw the snowball at you, this one landing just short of your feet.

“Come on, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” you teased, trying to keep your distance.

But Hamzah wasn’t about to let up. He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You started it.” he said, and before you knew it, he was charging at you.

You turned to run, but the deep snow made it hard to move fast. You glanced over your shoulder to see him getting closer, a wicked grin forming as he prepared for another throw.

He stopped, stunned for a moment, wiping the snow from his face. “Oh, hell no.” he muttered, shaking his head with mock annoyance.

With a sudden burst of energy, he charged again, and this time, you weren’t fast enough to dodge. He tackled you into the snow, laughing as he pinned you down for a second.

“You really think you can out-snowball me?” he asked, his cold breath forming a cloud in front of your face.

You squirmed beneath him, laughing, feeling the cold of the snow soaking through your clothes. “I think I’m winning, actually.” you shot back, trying to push him off, but only succeeding in making him laugh harder.

“Sure you are.” Hamzah said, his voice filled with amusement. He finally let you go, both of you lying in the snow, gasping for air. The cold was biting, but neither of you seemed to care.

There was a long, quiet moment between you two, both of you staring at the sky, the weight of the playful tension still lingering in the air.

Hamzah shifted slightly, his gaze turning to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart beating a little faster.

His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Without thinking, your gaze dropped to his lips as well, your body seeming to react before your mind could catch up.

Hamzah’s hand reached out, brushing away lingering snow off your face, his touch gentle.

His face was inches from yours now, and the air between you seemed charged with something you both hadn’t addressed until now.

“Yeah.” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I definitely won.”

And then, without another word, his lips were on yours. It was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters, but as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, both of you leaning into it.

The snow around you, the cold, the world; everything faded into the background.

His gloved hand rested gently on your cheek, the soft texture of the fabric brushing against your skin, sending a comforting feeling.

His mouth was warm, his tongue exploring yours softly, but there was a neediness to it now, an intensity that seemed to pull you deeper into the moment.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers curling gently behind your ear, as if pulling you closer, wanting more, as if the cold snow and everything around you didn’t matter anymore.

You responded without thinking, your own hand moving to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your palm.

The cold of the snow didn’t matter now, the chill replaced by the heat building between you.

Hamzah’s grip tightened slightly, not painful, but firm enough to remind you that he was there, grounded and real. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, but also like he was afraid of letting you go.

You could feel the same tension building in him, the way his body leaned into yours as if he didn’t want an inch of space between you.

When he pulled away slightly, breathless, his forehead rested against yours again, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment, his lips barely grazing yours with each breath.

His eyes were wide and locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze driving you crazy.

There was something raw in his expression, a neediness that was almost magnetic.

You couldn’t resist it. The way he looked at you stirred something deep inside, an urge to make him yours.

Slowly, you reached up, your fingers brushing against his chin, the softness of your touch contrasting with the intensity of the moment.

Your finger traced the curve of his jaw before gently sliding over his bottom lip, feeling the warmth of his lips, the slight tremble beneath your touch.

His breath hitched at the contact, his lips parting slightly as if he were waiting for you to make the next move.

You could feel his gaze still on you, searching for something, and without thinking, you leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s go inside.”

[rayshippouuchiha]

royed:

Al looking at Mustang being useless in the rain: Are you sure you want that one brother?

Edbwith heart eyes at this man's stupidity and looking like a cute wet black cat in the rain: Yep he's perfect. That one's definitely mine.

Ed: I'm smart enough for the both of us and he's the perfect amount of pathetic.

Al: *to himself* obviously brother gets his taste in men from Mom.

[koyotespeaks]

tw: sexy sex, no plot, well maybe minor plot, breeding kink if you squint, general nasty behavior, uneducated scottish accent mimicking

minors shoo! away!

you knew what you’ve been doing all along. wearing all those skimpy little frilly shorts and tops when your roommate is home. but you just didn’t have any other choice. you didn’t, because it was Johnny.

it was Johnny and you just wanted to tease him. just the slightest little bit, not doing too much. bending down at the right time. batting your eyelashes and always wearing that damned red lipgloss that made him hot in the face. really you were just bored, honestly, and isn’t it mighty fun teasing your sexy roommate when he’s home from wherever he’s been? definitely, in your opinion.

so, if all of this was just the smallest most innocent bit of teasing why then, for the love of gods, you are now finding yourself breathing heavily while Johnny is slipping a finger inside of you under that heavy blanket and it feels hot all over. you whispered his name a thousand times by now, your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and hot breath leaving your open lips. the joke is definitely blown out of proportion by now.

you were so giddy when you both agreed to stay in and watch a movie tonight. ‘he’ll get his serving of Netflix and chill.' you thought, arrogantly and not matter-of-factly. you put on some scary horror movie and your panties were wet after you let the first jumpscare frighten you so much you grabbed onto the couch and jerked. Johnny laughed and made a remark about somebody being a “scaredy cat” and scooted you over near himself, draped his arm across the back of the couch letting you lean into him. all with talking your ears off about how you’re a little pussy not able to watch a scary movie with dignity. the second jumpscare you grabbed onto him. you were leaking arousal. that’s how horror movies work, right? anyway. at the end of the day, you were just bored and he was Johnny.

he was Johnny, the handsome 6’2” scot with a mohawk you didn’t really know a lot about. ‘sure, hen.’ he’d reply, when you asked him to tell a little bit about himself. he was employed, paid bills, mentioned some friends. you guessed he was some kind of private contractor, due to the state of his form. nobody keeps himself in that tip top of a shape if they’re not having to apply said form in various physical ways.

‘physical ways’, your mind wandered off. you smiled crookedly at your thoughts instantly remembering the smile, or rather the grin, he gave you whenever your teasing became too on the nose. he’d always acknowledge it by looking straight into your eyes smiling like he’d just stolen something from you, and wanted you to guess what it was. an interesting and endearing reaction. to you, it was encouraging. 'how the fuck', you thought, 'am I supposed to not tease him? it’s so easy!' you thought. in reality, you were hooked like a little fish.

you stifle a moan and your chest heaves with hot air as you melt into him more by the second. you feel his hands everywhere which is a bit preposterous, you try to reason, but then he slips his finger out of your wet heat and all thought leaves your brain.

‘this is not fair,’ you whisper in a pleading voice. ‘stop teasing!’ you don’t really know why you’re whispering, you guess it will be a legitimation of your endeavors with him if you speak aloud.

‘tha’s rich comin’ from ye, bonnie.’ he replies, and you just know he’s smiling with his crooked fucking smile which commanded you to start teasing him the first time you saw it. really, you had no other choice but to do it. it’s his fault. you wiggle and squirm on his lap while he holds you tight against his chest. you don’t really want him to let go. 'yep', you think, 'the joke’s over'. you want him to hold you tighter, his chest pressed against you, his big arms holding you. you want to feel like a helpless pliant thing. you want to feel his hard-on against your backside. you want him to fuck you. that, you say to him, under your breath.

‘say what, hen, didn’t quite hear ya.’ he rasps into your ear.

'that bastard', you think. you can almost hear the shit-eating grin he has on his face. you take a couple of breaths, in and out, just to cool you off before you say something so embarrassing. you feel his fingers, wet with your arousal, on your hip.

‘I want you to fuck me, Johnny, please… please just…’ you stutter out a bit louder and after a skipped heartbeat you feel rumble in his chest.

‘and how should I do it?’ he inquires. you think it’s a joke but silence proves he is genuine. 'what a fucking cockroach, making me say all that', you think.

‘just… put it in now, please,’ you mutter, feeling your face get hot. all your arrogance and attitude gone all of a sudden.

‘sure, hen.’ he spreads your legs wider with a demanding tap on your thigh. his fingers circle your pussy lips spreading them slightly apart, working them. 'please', you think. he kisses your ear and slightly bites it, leaving it cold and wet and your face even more hot. you feel his leaky tip touching your lips, prying them open. you know you are not able to take him fully now, but you just want to sit in his lap while he tries to fit himself in.

with a low grunt he slips in and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. your hand shoots to his thigh and squeezes it so hard your manicured nails dig into the skin. he breathes out shakily into the back of your neck and snakes an arm around your stomach to steady both of you. you’ve never felt him touch so much of your exposed skin and it is overwhelmingly nice. your brain is melting. you timidly buck your hips ever so slightly just to feel how far you can go. not that far. but it’s enough for now. you start to slide on his dick, trying to get more friction and you feel his arms tightening their hold.

‘fuck’, he forces out, squeezing his hand on your hip in a warning.

‘feels good’, you plead, eyebrows furrowed from all the effort you’re putting in. after a while you slump in his hold, breathing heavily.

‘not enough… i want it deeper’, you whisper into the air.

‘jesus christ, pet.'

you hear a hiss, a grunt and a ‘what are yer doin’ t’ me’. his cock slips out and next thing you know, you’re on your back.

‘thank you’, you smile and immediately reach your hands to slip your fingers into his black hair. you wanted to do it for so long now. it feels even better than you’d imagined. it appears to you that you are awfully vulnerable right now. you realize you trust him enough not to sabotage this moment of yours. you are so needy you don’t really care anyway.

he chuckles and shakes his head. 'he’s pretty' you think. he sits back, spits on your pussy, and lines himself up and you cuss yourself out for those butterflies in your stomach that threaten to coil into something more vulgar. you bite your pointer finger, because if you make any sound now it will be really embarrassing.

Johnny slaps your dripping cunt with his heavy dick making that soft pleading sound escape you still. that sound made him twitch against your core and as this knowledge gets to your brain you smile, realizing he is just as desperate.

he pushes the tip in, your legs tremble and you exhale shakily with relief.

his low grunts and raspy moans fill your ears, your mind, he fills the entirety of your space and you don’t want it to end. his dick slides in and out so sweetly, but he keeps that torturous slow pace and his grin is really annoying. at this point you decide you’re over his attitude, really, you’re over both of you, and you reach out to pull him into a kiss. you kiss him sloppily, sucking on his tongue. his stubble is gently overstimulating your senses. you lick his teeth and your lips after that. his hips falter. it is hot all over.

he cannot keep the steady leisurely pace after that. he gives you long passionate thrusts and you feel him going in to the base. you start to feel dizzy and lose reason completely and your tongue unties, finally.

‘it feels so good with you’, you babble out, legs spread as wide as the couch allows, to welcome him into your heat as deep as possible, ‘please don’t stop, please, please.’ you sob and mewl, eyes watering and chest tight with desire for more. he fucks you faster and you chant his name with each thrust. ‘tha’s it, pretty girl, come f'me.’ he feels your walls flutter and tighten and it takes all of him not to come inside of you when you so sweetly come all over his dick.

his broken hiss reverberates through you body, his dick twitching inside you while you come down from your high.

‘ye ok, pet?’ he asks, ‘ye need’a minute?’ all the while starting to move his hips again. you jolt from the overstimulation.

‘ah! Johnny, sensitive!’

‘sensitive?’ he coos, ‘ok, hen, I’ll give yer little pussy a break.’ he settles comfortably inside of you. you feel so small suddenly.

it is maybe your fourth orgasm when he decided it appropriate time for him to come. your second orgasm came fast after he started pounding you relentlessly.

him rabidly whispering ‘ye’ll squirt f'me, pet, I’ll make ye’ is all you can recall before your third one because you really did. for him.

you’re so fucked out, your tongue is out and you look at him through half lidded eyes when you feel his pace starts to quicken and break.

‘Johnny, please, inside.’

‘pet.’ he speaks, warningly. ‘don’t say tha’, he grunts, ‘unless ye really want me t'.’

you lock your legs behind his back.

his thrusts become frenzied and he sounds dangerous ‘ye really wan’ me t’ come in ya?’

‘yes, please.’ you plead softly.

‘fuck.’ he swears in a cracked voice, his accent thick, grabs you by the hips, where you’re sure to find violet marks next morning, and fucks himself with your pussy, like it’s so easy to lift your flaccid body and jerk himself off with it. you come simultaneously with him, your legs shaking and stomach jumpy. Johnny comes inside you, spurting his thick hot come. he lays down on you, burrowing his nose in the crook of your neck, making his weight your stabilizer, grounding, and comforting.

you lay there, feeling his come leak out of you, lazily messing up his hair, not wanting him to pull out. wanting to feel more of his hot breath on your neck and his tongue lapping at your collarbone, his chest rising and falling, steadily. you want to lay like this a little bit longer. under him, pressed into the couch by his weight, safe.

[banrionceallach]

Imagine being Donna Noble's husband and finding out your wife used to travel all over space and time, facing monsters and helping save alien planets and treating an incredibly ancient genius time traveller like a pathetic wet cat of a man and also said ancient genius time traveller adores your wife and considers her his bestie.

Imagine considering all that looking at Donna and the Doctor and then nodding to yourself, 'yep, checks out.'

[strnilolover]

what about vet!chris with an overly anxious pet owner reader

the small exam room was bright, the soft hum of fluorescent lights doing nothing to calm your frazzled nerves. you sat perched on the edge of a chair, clutching the carrier in your lap like it was a lifeline. inside, your tabby cat, cinnamon, let out another mournful meow, and you winced.

the sound of the door creaking open made your head snap toward it — you already knew who it was but your mouth was quick to spew words before your brain could catch up to what you were saying.

“she’s been crying all night,” you said, your voice barely steady as chris walked in, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “i don’t know what’s wrong, but what if it’s something serious? what if—”

chris, ever the calm and collected one, set the clipboard down and crossed the room to you. he crouched slightly to meet your eyes, resting his hands lightly on your knees. “hey, hey, slow down,” he said softly. “let me take a look before we jump to conclusions, okay?” he said, thumbs rubbing your knees softly.

you nodded quickly, biting your lip as he gently pried the carrier from your hands and placed it on the exam table. cinnamon let out another pitiful cry as chris opened the door, carefully coaxing her out with his gentle, practiced touch. his voice dropped into that soothing tone he used with all his patients. “there we go, sweetheart. let me see what’s going on.” he murmured, tone gentle as he spoke to cinnamon.

he began his examination, his fingers expertly moving over cinnamon’s tiny body. you watched every movement, your heart racing with every slight twitch of his brow. “she’s been sleeping more than usual, too,” you added nervously, wringing your hands. “and she hasn’t been eating her wet food. She loves her wet food, chris. what if it’s something horrible?” you rambled — spewing your thoughts, but nothing was helping the way your chest ached.

chris turned to you with a raised brow, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “or,” he said, “what if it’s just a furball?” he said softly.

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by his statement. “a-“ you paused, brows drawn together. “-a furball?” you said slowly.

“yep.” he turned back to cinnamon, running his hand gently over her belly. “her stomach feels fine, her weight is good, and she’s just a little tense. if she’s been grooming more than usual, that’s probably it. i’ll double-check to be sure, but I don’t think it’s anything more serious.” he stated, smiling as he gave her a small pet.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart slowly starting to unclench. “you’re sure? really sure?” you say, wanting to make sure he was being truthful — of course he would be, he knows what he’s doing, but it didn’t stop you from asked.

chris turned back to you, his warm eyes meeting yours. “i wouldn’t tell you that if i wasn’t sure, babe. cinnamon’s okay. I promise.”

his reassurance melted the last bit of panic in your chest, and you leaned back in your chair, exhaling deeply. chris chuckled softly, stepping closer to you and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you always get yourself so worked up,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek. “you know i wouldn’t let anything happen to either of my girls.”

his words sent a different kind of flutter through your chest, one that had nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the way he was looking at you — like you were his whole world. you gave him a sheepish smile, your hand coming up to cover his. “i can’t help it,” you admitted. “she’s my baby.”

“and you’re mine,” he said easily, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “now let me finish with cinnamon, and then i’m taking both of my girls home. sound good?”

[yuurivoice]

lowkey, I do see their point about the power dynamic. Just because there hasn't been abuse of power, doesn't mean that the concern isn't valid, and that's why there's rules against that within the workplace! BUT I feel like both shattered and bittersweet have a bunch of instances in them where, if in real life, if I was a friend of the Listener and they told me some of these things Id be like 'gurl??'

For example, when boo goes alone up to a secluded camping spot to talk to a man they just met that very obviously wasn't happy with their presence upon first meeting, and looks like he could bench press 3 of alphonse.. id be like 'What happened to stranger danger?' (love Seth, but the stranger danger assemblies from elementary school really do stick lmao)

The mysterious CEO trope is very obviously a sexual fantasy, and I think we can all agree that it would not, and really should not fly in the real world, but this IS a fictional story that was originally built off of these tropes. And as far as I'm aware we're all adults here so, you do you boo! either way, I'm sure Rook could start their own thing with the talent they have any ways. Auron is more of a sad wet cat at this point, which is strangely fitting for a seemingly cold hearted crime boss lol

I think a larger point that I think goes well beyond our little corner of the internet is that we gotta trust folks to both understand the givens like "don't try this at home" and that ultimately you're either going to suspend your disbelief and play with the Legos you're given or be responsible with what you consume.

Also the difference between critiquing the art cs critiquing the individual characters is probably also a point to make. While Auron's choices are...not great, I think him being so desperate to experience the normalcy he missed out on be it with Charlie or Rook is interesting! I think feeling like Auron sucks or is a complicated, conflicted mess is probably a good thing.

And ultimately I think it's my job to create interesting scenarios and characters, and trust that folks realize the point isn't "oh this should happen and is good" or is co-signed and encouraged etc. but I also think if you peek past the first layers you'll find in most cases that what we're working with would likely lead to some positive moral conclusions regardless.

That's the fun part about fiction, we tell stories not in the sense that they should be 1:1 depictions of reality, but because we can exaggerate to extremes outside of the norm in order to magnify certain aspects of our human experiences that we want to dive deeper into.

Which sounds way too deep for a guy who voices pretty little lads, but you get my point.

I do try to be responsible with the self insert nature of things, because there's a lot of trust involved when someone gives you the keys to their proverbial car. But for cases such as "skewed power dynamic relationship" while i do try to avoid the potholes i personally don't love or feel comfortable with portraying, it is also like...a big neon sign you see in the first 2 minutes of experiencing the story so we have that unspoken agreement that like...yep that's what we're dealing with so if you are lactose intolerant this might not be the dairy farm you want to enter. 😂

That's why I'm so adamant about Boo being an open ended listener for example, they've been that way for so long it almost feels unfair to go AND THEN THEIR FAMILY HISTORY MATTERS, OR THEIR EVIL TWIN APPEARS, OR...etc. because you probably should have had clues about that 5 years ago at the introduction of the characters.

Anywho, that's all the yapping I've got in me, I've somehow managed to get even more sick dealing with my vertigo shit. 😵‍💫 So I hope this was all somewhat coherent. Thanks for reading. 💖

[xoxoluka]

You comfortable with writing about reader having a semi mild belly kink towards schlatt? I just wanna feed him and take care of my tsundere teddy bear between my girlbossing times 🥰🥰💕

Only if you’re comfy ofc! ^^

yes of course! i’ve got a perfect idea for this!

"ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ'ꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ"

jschlatt x fem!reader

summary: just cooking for him, like all the time. but he absolutely loves it.

warnings: fluff, reader is possibly an influencer or streamer or something

a/n: im cooking the best i can chat its past midnight (ps i don't mind the time that you send these! i'll still see them <3)

good god, it's freezing outside. you think to yourself as you reenter your shared apartment. the warmth you're met with inside allows you to shrug off your wet, rained-on jacket and hang it up on the hook, then slip off your shoes after. two sets of paws patter towards you, jambo and [REDACTED] greeting you happily at the door by rubbing up against your legs.

"hi, my babies," you coo to them, but your thoughts are interrupted by a string of profanities ringing through the walls. Jay must be streaming tonight. might as well make something warm for dinner.

you nod and travel to the kitchen, clearing a bit of counter space and pulling out the cutting board. jambo and [REDACTED] follow close behind, and sit next to the kitchen radiator as they watch you get ready to cook.

you figure you have at least two hours, if not more, until Jay is done streaming, so that should be enough to cook a warm dinner. you first pull out chicken, and put it in a pan for the oven. as the oven preheats, you get out your pot and get chicken broth out of the cabinet to bring it to a boil.

you cut up vegetables, including carrots and celery, as well as some chopped parsley. you put it all into the pot of broth, and when the chicken is done, you cut it up into cubes and toss it in as well. it smells amazing, and you add a tiny bit of onion and minced garlic into the mixture.

overall, it took about an hour and a half to cook up, which was enough time for your boyfriend to stalk his way out of his office to greet you in the kitchen.

"what'cha cookin', toots?" he asks, startling you as he wraps his arms around your midsection and rests his head on your shoulder.

"chicken soup, my mom's recipe," you giggle and rest your head on top of his as you stir the soup.

"smells fuckin' delicious," he says, standing up straight and giving you a kiss on the cheek before walking over to grab a water bottle out of the fridge. "i've got about an hour of stream left, that good for you?"

"yep, take your time baby, i'll be here." you turn to smile at him.

later, he meets you for dinner at the kitchen island. you plated the soup nicely, the fancy soup spoon and all.

he sits at the barstool next to you, where you waited for him.

"you didn't have to wait for me," he tells you, a tiny bit of confusion in his voice.

"i wanted to," you reply, a smile on your face. "you know i love eating dinner with you."

you ate mostly in silence for the rest of the time you sat, it was comfortable and warm, just like it always was with the two of you. as much as it didn't look like it on streams, or on the podcast, or to anyone you knew, it was always like this. the apartment was never rowdy or upbeat, the two of you and your cats lived comfortably and quietly with one another.

just like now, after dinner and the dishes that Jay so kindly helped you with, where you both laid in bed with the cats curled up between your legs. you laid on top of Schlatt, your head on his stomach and your arms around his torso, with jambo and [REDACTED] both curled up with each other between your intertwined legs.

it was like a quiet, quaint, happy little family. you wouldn't trade this for the world.

"i love you," you mumble, "..so much." you nuzzle into him further, wrapping your arms around him tighter, drifting off as you listen to his breathing.

"love you too, toots." he says, one of his hands coming down to caress the back of your head.

this was absolutely everything and anything you could ever want.

pls is this bad or what

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “Whhhew...! That was-”

Vaggie: “A lot?”

Charlie: “-better than expected!”

Vaggie: “No kidding. If I’d known inviting your dad here would get Alastor looking like a wet cat, I’d’ve pushed for it sooner.”

Charlie: “I’m just glad you pushed when you did.” (smooch) “Thank you. I’ve missed him.”

Vaggie: “Looks like he’s really missed you too, babe.”

Charlie: “Mm. Not enough to call, though.”

Vaggie: “Ehh, calling can be scary. Good thing you’re plenty brave.”

Charlie: “Only when you’re holding my hand!”

Vaggie: “Husk would say that’s an act of fucking bravery all on it’s own, letting yourself get grabbed by the small, mean, grumpy lady. Remind me not to help him out at the bar again ever. I think there’s vodka in my hair.”

Charlie: “I’ll try, but you know you’re gonna help anyway.” (second smooch) “Can I get a ‘you’re welcome’?”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Charlie, I didn’t do anything.”

Charlie: “You do lots.”

Vaggie: “And thank hell Angel Dust isn’t around to hear that…”

Charlie: “I’m serious! You got me to call dad in the first place!”

Vaggie: “I just suggested it, you’re the one who did it, and you two worked things out together like a real father-daughter team.”

Charlie: “And we’re a great team too.”

Vaggie: “Well I’m definitely a pretty big fan of us. Although…. Sir Pentious and Keekee are giving us a run for our money. And the Niffty plus a lock of Lucifer’s hair combo might just have us beat.”

Charlie: “Blegh! She actually got that in the end? I thought her scissors couldn’t even cut it!”

Vaggie: “They didn’t. She used my spear.”

Charlie: “She WHAT-”

Vaggie: “And asked your dad very nicely to please take off his hat so she could trim off a piece without ruining the rest of his hair.”

Charlie: (sigh) “I guess as long as she ASKED…”

Vaggie: “D’you think her whole room is just a shrine to quote unquote bad boys?”

Charlie: “Oh don’t say that. We need to introduce her to some boybands or something.”

Vaggie: “We?”

Charlie: “Yes ‘we’, little miss likes making lesbian covers of the songs normally sung by teenage boys while you’re in the shower and think the sound of running water can in any way drown out your beautiful, heart stopping voice-”

Vaggie: “I- you- You’ve been listening!?”

Charlie: “Eeeev-er-y morning yep! Heheh~”

Vaggie: “Diablo mio… I need a drink.”

Charlie: (giggling) “To go with the vodka hair?” (nibbles Vaggie’s fringe) “Nom nom nom. Delicious~”

Vaggie: “Scratch that- clearly WE need some SLEEP.”

Charlie: “How can I sleep at all tonight, though? Vaggie- we’re gonna get a meeting with the top angels of creation! We’re gonna be on cloud nine! Literally! In HEAVEN!!”

Vaggie: “And sleep won’t be enough to prepare me for that but you definitely need it.”

Charlie: “It’s impossible! I need to SING!!!!!”

Vaggie: “You need to go shuck off those shoes and get in your ruby slippers while I put in your fav movie so we can get some rest.”

Charlie: “If you put in the Wizard of Oz you know I’m 100% gonna sing anyway right.”

Vaggie: “Yeah, but you’ll be singing in bed so you can keep watching the movie, and that’s good enough for me.”

Charlie: “I love youuuu~”

Vaggie: “Love you too sweetie. Slippers. Bed. Z’s. Now.”

Charlie: (kicks off shoes) “Ta da! There’s no place like home!"

Charlie: (clicks hooves together)

Charlie: "Heheheheh...!”

Vaggie: “I meant on the bed in your pajamas and under the actual covers- vaya, whatever. Scoot. Don’t go running off to Oz without me.”

Charlie: (snuggling vaggie in a hug instead) “I’m never going anywhere without you, Vaggie. Including heaven.”

Vaggie: (awkward laugh) “Great…”

Charlie: “Wanna know whyyyy?”

Vaggie: (smiles) “I make a great hand-holder, apparently.”

Charlie: “Yes. And, you’re home.”

Vaggie: “….yeah? I’m here? This is our room?”

Charlie: (snorting) “Vaggie-”

Vaggie: “In our hotel??”

Charlie: “Vaggie nooo- Anywhere else would be home too, with you there.”

Vaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: (deep breath)

Vaggie: “…... Charlie-”

Charlie: “You gonna press play?”

Vaggie: “-huh? Oh. Yeah.”

Charlie: (snuggling her) “This has been an amazing day. Wish every day could be like this, forever.”

Vaggie: “Yeah.” (hoarse) (curling up as close to charlie as she can) "Me too.”

-101 minutes of Oz later-

Vaggie: "Charlie?"

Charlie: "... nnnoooo..."

Vaggie: "Charlie, c'mon, at least let's get your coat off."

Charlie: "Mmrrr... mi mi mi..."

Vaggie: "You can go 'snork mi mi mi' afterwards. Work with me here, Dorothy- I can't get you settled into Oz without help."

Charlie: "Hmmheheheh... so im Dorothy..?"

Vaggie: "Definitely. You've got the ruby slippers on and everything."

Charlie: "I love that you call my hooves that~ Thats so silly. You're so silly, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "And you're already half asleep. Suspenders next, okay?"

Charlie: "Remove the suspenders... delete the suspenders..."

Vaggie: "Get your horns tangled in the suspenders somehow, wait, hold on-"

Charlie: "SUSPEND the SUSPEDERS!"

Vaggie: "Alright, good enough. That's all the annoying stuff gone anyway. You should be good like that, right?"

Charlie: "Sleeeeeepy. Snuggles?"

Vaggie: "Snuggles right after I change, give me one sec okay."

Charlie: "Mmm."

Charlie: "...vaggie."

Vaggie: "That was half a second."

Charlie: "Vaggiiiiie."

Vaggie: "I'm right over here, stop making grabby hands."

Charlie: "Vaggggiiiiiiiee...!"

Vaggie: (huffs) "Fine, fine..." (snuggles) "Not like my nightie would cover much anyway. But if we end up having to get up in the middle of the night for something exploding again, you're going out first, and I'm stealing your jacket."

Charlie: "You look good in my clothes."

Vaggie: "I look like a ten year old. The sleeves have to be rolled back to the elbow just so I have hands."

Charlie: "I like your hands..."

Vaggie: "Thanks." (kiss) "Go to sleep, Charlie."

Charlie: "Wait- heheheh- wait, Vaggie-"

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Vaggie, Vaggieeee~!"

Vaggie: "Giggling into my boobs isn't helping me understand what you're saying, babe."

Charlie: "Vaggie. If I'm Dorothy, and youuuu are GAY, then.."

Vaggie: "Little scared to see where this is going, not gonna lie."

Charlie: "Does that make-" (snickers) "Does that make you a girlfriend of Dorothy's?"

Vaggie: "............."

Charlie: "Vaggie~?"

Vaggie: "...Charlie. Please."

Vaggie: "Go the fuck to sleep."

Charlie: "HEH!"

[daydreams-after-dark]

For ur bday month requestttttt 🤍

My biggest fantasy rn is to have a threesome w Chan and Hyunjin like I literally need them to DESTROYYY me and my insides 🫠 like just imagine: you have your face down and ass up, arching ur back like a cat while Chan is ravaging your pussy from behind (and u literally look so fucked out bc of your previous orgasms, you have tears in your eyes and your lipstick is a mess) and hyunjin is fucking your mouth so so hard while grabbing your hair and giving you some face slaps. Chan keeps on saying all sorts of things like “such a nasty whore for us, isn’t that right, baby? Look at you, ure all needy and whiny, just for us” 😵‍💫

Once they both cum, Chan decides to pull out just to see his cum drip out of you and tells hyunjin to fuck it in again 🫠🫠 so hyun scoops the cum w his tip and fucks it deep into your cunt while telling you what a pathetic cum dump ure for them, and u can’t even say anything bc u keep on letting out whines and little cries bc of how overstimulated u are, and also bc channie keeps on touching your tits just to make u feel even more used 😩 once they’re done w that, they both kiss u and tell u what a good girl you’ve been for them 😵‍💫

I need them so badly omfg- 

part of #sorshas birthday month submissions

MDNI // 18+

You’ve spoiled me 😍😘

This was… scrumptious!

There’s something so hot about creampies for me right now. Like I’m obsessed with them. Just messy cum in general.

I can imagine that although Hyunjin is fucking it back into your cunt, there’s still so much dripping down your inner thighs. It’s smeared all over your ass too, with Hyunjin rubbing it everywhere as he squeezes and gropes it.

Uhhh 🫠😵‍💫 and the way they are just brutally fucking you from both ends too… oh and face slaps!!!! Clenching!!!

Yep… creampies, groping, slapping (especially the face or tits), and some dirty talk …… I’m in horny heaven!!!

Also… I feel like hyunjin is so long he reaches so deep, while channie stretches you out so good. Imagine channie in your pussy and hyunjin in your ass at the same time.

Everyone. Homework: go imagine this entire scenario 🥵💦

read more submissions here: #sorshas birthday month

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY MONTH - DECEMBER

Hey my beautiful friends! I have an announcement / request.It's my birthday month, and I am opening up the ask box (even though it was never closed), for something a little bit different.

Instead of you sending in fic / scenario requests (which you still can regardless of this), I am requesting YOU to send ME your naughtiest thoughts or fantasies about your bias.

Like, what are your most filthy thoughts? What would you let them do to you? What do you want to do to them? Is there a particular theme that really gets you wet or hard? (like me and alien Han)? Or, what's a kink you didn't know you had until you started reading smut (like me and Han with 2 dicks - it doesn't have to be realistic)?

You don't even have to be involved! It could be you really love imagining two of the guys (or more) together. I know you have filthy minds and are horny little things.

Hit me with what you've got. Also... of course you can submit anonymously... that way you hopefully won't hold back.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[pursuitseternal]

“Don’t hold your breath:” hot spring smut with Spawn!Astarion for “Bites in the Night:”

Astarion x Reader | E | 2K of underwater oral

🎨 By @snowfolly

Summary: The Mountain Pass is cold at night, you’ve found. And your newly taken Vampire lover has left for the night. But maybe… not to be alone… A note from him to meet him in secret, the end of your search, a bubbling, steaming mountain hot spring with more hidden than rocks beneath its water.

CW: Fem oral receiving, Vampires don’t NEED to breathe 😉, jealous!Tav, reassuring Astarion, wet cat hair Astarion

Ao3 link |ao3 series link |Masterlist

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You… can’t remember if you’ve ever seen a hot spring. Most things from your life before this tadpole seem hazy now. Well, frankly most things that happened before you took Astarion as your sometimes-lover are fuzzy. But given the winds whipping around the Mountain Pass as the sun setts and the heat of day starts to seep from the world, a hot spring sounds like just the solution. That merchant just up the Pass said you couldn’t miss it, that making camp close by was a wise idea since mountain nights are cold.

Really cold.

At least that part is true. Karlach was fine of course, warm and bubbly as she had gone to find enough firewood for an army. Although, given how big you all needed to make the fire to keep the feeling in your toes, you suspect it’ll last you the night. Gale cast some spell, trying his best to keep out the cool winds and lock in the heat from the fire, but not even magic could prevent the power and force of nature.

Yep, that was Halsin’s contribution before he shifted into a bear to sleep in the warm comfort of fat and fur.

But you don’t worry about any of them… your undead, eternally corpse-cold lover, however…. He had disappeared to hunt and hadn’t returned.

If he had a heart, he wouldn’t do this to you, at least you hoped. If he had a heart, or one that beat at least faster and kept his flesh warm, you wouldn’t feel so much worry gnawing in your gut. But no, his cold body would be shivering by now, unable to warm up, and you hope being undead means he will survive.

As the night grows more frigid with each breeze, you peek into his tent one more time, just to see if he has snuck back like the stealthy, roguish ass he is.

Sure enough, that fucker… he’s left you a note. Or he’s left someone a note, your heart leaps into your throat hoping that it’s for you… though he has been making such sharp and sultry banter with your Cleric lately… your gut squeezes tight with jealousy. Fingers snatch the note from his mess of a bed.

Just a single scrawled line… directions to head north and dip yourself in…. Darling.

You scowl, knowing full well it’s a term he throws around as freely as his smirks. The same words and smiles and raised brows that surely make your Cleric’s heart flutter too in that hot and suffocating way you feel when it’s turned so fully on you.

You take the note, after all, finders keepers, you smirk. That’ll keep him all to yourself, you chuckle inwardly. As you sneak from his mess of a tent, you can’t help but trace your fingers over that tight, flourishing script of his, the paper obviously torn from one of his many books.

Cute, you think to yourself, pulling your jacket around your shoulders tighter as you head northward up the trail. Aside from the cold, it’s not unlike your other trysts… a quiet evening, a moonlit path, and your heart rapping out of your chest to see him. Already you feel your stomach fluttering your cheek blushing hot despite the chill. You want this, smiling he wants it too.

You assume, the nagging thought slices your desire. You want to think those extra longing glances are for you… those flirtatious quips made for the others just to keep his appearances as a rake, even as he has begun to trust you more with his past.

But… the doubt still nags at you. The images of how your Cleric stares after him in his wake around camp usually. You don’t know if it’s lust or suspicion. Or both.

Before you can let your excitement sour too much, your feet almost stumble into water. The hiss, the steam, you nearly fell face first into the hot spring. This was it, you take in the scene with a hint of awe and a lot of excitement. “Well,” you laugh to yourself, “he did say dip in…” Peeling off your jacket, you hurry to strip off everything. Your skin prickles in the breezes, the wind softer where the spring is sheltered and warmer from the steam. His name is sweet on your tongue as you call for him, not waiting for a response as you let the bubbling, cloudy water submerge your body.

You hear nothing as you turn around the large body of water. It’s not deep, rocks lying beneath the surface at good heights to sit on and still savor the waters. Deep breathes in your lungs, eyes fluttering shut as you take a seat on the closest one, you wait.

But you swallow that slice of jealousy… what if he’s somewhere else with… someone else? What if he’s hiding, unready silent in the brush because you aren’t the conquest he was hoping to lure to this locale? What if…

Hands grip the backs of your calves, nails digging into your skin beneath the cloudy, fizzing water.

Invisible.

Unseen

But the touch is colder than the waters.

That touch pries you apart, pushing you back against the bank of the spring, and splitting your folds open. The noises you make are short and scared, the rush of adrenaline overpowering you as your reach for whatever is moving you under the water.

Fear lances through you, until your hands grip into familiar if wet locks, and a cool soft pad of a tongue starts to sweep up your thigh.

Astarion.

Your spasms of dread turn to disbelieving and nervous laughter. Your eyes still frozen wide as you try to watch him lick higher to your folds beneath the water. But you see nothing beneath the bubbling surface.

Arms wrap so firmly around your ass, pulling you just to the edge of the rock. Gritting your teeth together, you can’t fight the way your hips buck against his face, especially not with both his arms keeping you pinned in place, nose rubbing your hardened clit, tongue diving and swirling the circumference of your channel. That muscular tip strokes back and forth over that spot he loves to touch, that hot bundle of nerves just inside you. The sight of his head and curls is lost to your blurring vision, all is steam and bubbles and churning water as he consumes your own slick before it even reaches your thighs.

Heart racing, blood pounding in your arteries, you can’t catch your breath as you come apart so quickly, so readily on his mouth. But even as your thighs clench over his shoulders, his arms keep you trapped and his tongue keeps devouring you under that bubbly water.

Tongue sweeps to your clit, lips sucking and circling over that aching nub. Fangs catch briefly on your skin, a nick here and there, but the pain hardly slices through your bliss as he drives you even faster for a second crashing wave of pleasure. Your head lolls on the mossy bank, your legs shaking down the scars of his back, and your fingers practically pull his perfect hair from its roots. The stars in the sky are nothing compared to the ones that begin to blind you again, your climax approaching at breakneck speed. As your body wracks with bliss, his arm splashes away from your backside, only to dive his long, dancing fingers deeper and fuller into your cunt.

A scream tears from your throat, making the poor wildlife around you scatter in the underbrush. The walls of your core suck his touch in deeper, or force it out, you can’t tell, not with the way your body is practically boiling itself. You can’t catch your wind, the edges of your sight growing darker, your world starting to spin like when he sips just a bit too much from your body…..

And that’s when your eyes fly open, the realization hitting you in the same moment, same breath as you torque and buck in one more burst of heat and wet and spasms.

He hasn’t taken a breath for….

You force your body back in control, gripping him by his hair, his ears and jerking him towards the surface.

He breaks through the water like some mythical being, skin so white in the moonlight, smirk so arrogant and self-content…. “Hello,” he pants, catching lungs full of mountain air once more, “…darling,” he finally adds as those lust-dark eyes scan over your dripping body. His damp hair drips and droops adorably over his forehead, almost over his eyes. He’d be pathetic if those eyes underneath didn’t proclaim pride in how he had just eaten you right up.

Suddenly that hesitation as he looks you up and down, devouring you with his eyes in that silence… it makes that pang of jealousy return. “Not surprised to see me?” you prod just a bit, sweeping your arms in the waters, trying to slide down the pool as he begins to inch closer.

“Aren’t you surprised to see me?” he purrs, sweeping his now wet and unruly locks out of his eyes with both hands. That pale face practically glimmers with drops of water and radiates with unbridled arrogance as he licks his lips. “That was the effect I was going for this evening with you, my little treat. So tasty too…”

“I could have been anyone…” you huff just a bit. Rolling your eyes, you try not to squeak as he descends on you, arms bracing you back against the bank of the pool, body pushing you against the rocks and wall again. “I could be some poor unsuspecting female that happened to find your cute little note.”

“You're not just anyone, you know…. And besides, I would know the taste of you and you alone anywhere…” he licks his lips, almost smacking them like the predator he is, cleaning his maw.

“You mean…” your eyes dart to the bushes, as if looking to see if anyone else is hiding.

He merely shoves that leering smirk between you and the middle distance. “Who else do you think I would ask back here for a bite, darling?” He’s intrigued and concerned, entertained and worried in one swirling tone.

“It’s silly…” you decide to laugh it off, nevermind how he still closes in on you. Cool hands hold you, sweeping up your arm. One palm rests on your cheek, something unusually warm about his touch, unusually reassuring without a single snide remark.

“Is it?” he cocks his head, eyes searching yours.

“Well….” you tilt your head, looking down at the swirling, dancing steam over the spring.

“Tut tut,” he lifts your head back up to meet his gaze, “eyes here, my darling. And I’ll tell you just who has my interest…”

“Oh,” you feel tears sting, until he smiles at you with pure adoration.

“You see, there’s this female, headstrong and defiant and willful…” His thumb sweeps over your lip, his smile soft enough to let his fangs peek out. “…she has a habit of picking up strays, and making sure they are cared for…” His fingers trace over the ever-darkening set of fang-scars that form on your neck. “She makes sure they’re bellies are full and their every need is sated…”

That thick, hard, veiny length of his prods into your belly as he pulls you flush against his front.

“I’m quite fond of her every trait, internal and external,” he purrs into your ear, hands wandering over your body, your sides tickled by touch, breasts teased and pulled with just the right amount of force to make you gasp and smile. “And besides, my first thinking blood, she tastes more divine than anything I doubt I would find in this realm.”

You can’t wait for his silken voice to shut up, so you opt to stop all those nice words with your own actions for once. Arms wrap so tight around his neck, you pull those conceited, praising lips against your own.

“Tell me you like me…” you pant between kisses. His lips begin that addictive working over yours, the kind that steals your air and makes you swept off your feet and usually on your back for him.

“You know I do, my little treat,” he rasps back, a little roll of his hips against your belly as he laughs, “but don’t hold your breath for more of an explanation.”

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023:30-Save Some for Me

Many people of the Justice League were summoned for a mission. Some were hiding in the shadows, others were stuck as civilians. Everything was going fine in the mission until Damian Wayne was suddenly thrown into building. That was the day he learned his two sunshine would go to hell for him.

Damian lay aginst the building. His vision was foggy, at best.

'Concussion. Labored breathing; likely a broken rib or two.'

He hadn't noticed people had started running away and were screaming. He hadn't even noticed Jon and Marinette calling his name until they got to his side.

'Hearing impairment.'

"Don't touch him!" Jon shouted, "He has some broken bones and some bad bruising."

"Concussion. Hearing impairment. Labored breathing." Damian whispered out, "Tired."

" Stay awake. I'll get a medic as fast as I can." Jon remarked, "I'm staying with you. I'll protect you from any more damage."

'That's good. His body can shield me from anymore debris or if there's any bullets.'

Damian felt wet drops fall on him.

'Rain?'

It wasn't until he heard the sob that he realized it was Marinette.

"Angel. I will be fine." he spoke.

He saw her hand turn into a fist and drop her precious earrings into her purse. She shoved it into Jon's arm.

"Marinette?" Jon asked.

He saw Marinette place a small ring on her hand.

"Claws out." she snarled.

Before his eyes, his angel looked like a small version of Selina in her CatWoman outfit. Her hair had turned jet black and was tied in a long braid down to her ankles. Her suit was now black. She was wearing thigh high heels with a green sash wrapped around her waist. Her hands had turned claws. She no wore a black domino mask the looked like his own robin mask and upon her head, were a pair of cat ear, trimmed with green. Then, she was gone.

"You might want to make sure Angel doesn’t kill anyone." Damian spoke, before passing out with a smile.

Jon turned to see Marinette lunging at people and blood splattering everywhere. It reminded him of watching his best friend train with his swords.

'Oh, shit! There's two of them!'

Jon quickly rushed away and grabbed ahold of her, locking her arms. She still managed to move with him holding her.

'I was wrong. She's scarier!'

The Bats quickly rounded everyone up as the rest of the Justice League avoided Ladybug, now turned Cat. She was hissing and clawing, trying to get away from Superboy. He had scratches on him from holding her back and was bleeding. Superman quickly rushed over and knocked her out. Superboy huffed and handed her over to Batman.

"Your son's girlfriend is just as deadly as he is." he huffed.

Plagg released himself from the ring.

"Do you have any cheese?" he questioned.

"What?" replied Superman.

"Another alien?" asked Green Lantern.

"Rude." Plagg answered, "I am the God of Destruction."

"Yep. That fits the bill." Red Hood responded, "Demon Spawn dating a person of destruction."

"Oh, you have it all wrong." Plagg declared "She only used me because she was pissed and you should be grateful, she did."

"She killed ten people." Batman spoke.

The kwami shrugged, "Could have been worse."

"How?" asked Nightwing.

"She could have been weilding her usual, my other half: Tikki, the Goddess of Creation. She created the universe." Plagg explained, enthusiastically, "When she gets pissed, she creates weapons of mass destruction. Instead of ten people, it could have been half the planet."

All the heroes looked at Marinette unconscious in Batman's arms.

"Who's the bad one now?" Plagg smirked, "At least she didn't used Kalki. Could have just teleported them over a volcano or a pit of death."

"So, do you have cheese?" Plagg asked again.

Jon was quick to warn the medical team about Damian's injuries and the extent of them, as he was placed on a stretcher.

"Ah, Loverboy." Plagg declared.

The Kwami of Destruction tapped on the downed Robin and let the green aura wash over him.

"Is that-?" Tim shouted.

"My magic." Plagg stated, absorbing it, "Seems he has a lot of it in him. Not as goo as cheese, but it helps. I'll talk to the bug and she can give my ring to him, for awhile. I should be able to absorb the rest. Same with Helmet Head."

"Really?" questioned Red Hood."

Plagg nodded, "Yep."

"Are you perhaps talking about the Lazarus Pits magic?" Batman asked.

"I don’t know what you people call it now, but that is our magic." Plagg explained, "Someone wished for it so we made it. It's why she works so hard to makes sure it doesn’t happen."

Red Hood shook his head, "They're a perfect match."

"Huh?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Demon Spawn and his 'Angel'. We all know if Batsy, here, wasn't around, he'd be leaving Gotham painted red. Hid girlfriend is the same way, if he gets hurt. You can't honestly tell me if she got hurt, he'd go back to being an assassin." he explained.

The Justice League loked between the unconcious couple.

"I say it's Batman's problem, now." Green Lantern stated, "His kid and future daughter-in-law."

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[weirdcoregal35]

I have this little thing that whenever RF! Solar has one of his “isolation freak outs”, RF! Sakura is always the first one to help him!! :3

Like, it’ll go like this (Tw just in case)

RF! Solar: *walking*

RF! Sakura: *following him*

RF! Solar: Sakura…what are you doing??

RF! Sakura: …Are you okay?? You just spent thirty minutes alone in your office, and now you refuse to talk to anyone…

RF! Solar: *pause. He’s holding down one of his sleeves.* I’m fine.

RF! Sakura: …Nuh-uh.

RF! Solar: Fuck you mean, “nuh-uh”?!

RF! Sakura: *dragging him somewhere*

RF! Solar: OH GODDAMNIT, NOT AGAIN-

~ten minutes later~

RF! Solar Flare: Yo, boss, are you in-*pause*

RF! Solar: *wrapped in a large blanket, pouting*

RF! Sakura: HEY FLARE!!

RF! Solar Flare: Why is he-

RF! Bloodmoon: PFFT-HAHAHAH!! HE LOOKS LIKE A SAD WET CAT!!

RF! Sakura: Yeah, he’s been pouty for a while…

RF! Killcode: *peeking over* Aww!! He looks adorable!!

RF! Solar Flare: You basically have everything planned out, huh?

RF! Sakura: YEP! Pudding cups, warm almond milk, and this cat plushie I found in the closet!

RF! Solar: *snatches it, immediately cuddling with it*

RF! Bloodmoon: PFFT-

RF! Killcode: Basically a man child like this-

RF! Solar: QUIET-*he’s embarrassed, hehe*

@dolce-cerise

@lednet-sorrow-au-blog

@owlandwillpeck

Hehe :3

[callsignfoxy]

Blue-collar!Simon who goes to the same restaurant every day for lunch, ordering the same thing, but today he takes note of you, the new server, and you strike up a conversation.

Fem!reader POV Word Count: 1079

"___, is it? Uh, thanks for gettin' this out to me so quickly," he grunts as his eyes meet yours.

You intended to turn away to attend another table when you heard him speak and met his gaze. Oh, so he does know how to talk, you thought humorously, turning more of your attention onto him. The first time you met the large man sitting in the booth was a couple of days prior, and you had tried your best to do your waitress thing.

Flashing your bright smile that usually did well. Even commenting on the weather and trying to make conversation. He gave his order, and then all you received in response were short nods, a few grunts, and barely veiled annoyance. You backed off, assuming he just wanted to enjoy his meal alone. No harm.

Then, after yesterday, you had a sneaking suspicion that he may be the kind to order the same thing every day. After asking around, the other servers confirmed your theory. You took a risk today, and hopefully, it'd pay off. You may not want to do the waitress thing forever, but you were damn good at your job when it came to grumpy customers.

Smiling brightly, you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your updo. "Yep, that would be me, and don't mention it. I figured that might be what you were ordering, so I thought, 'Why not?'" You chuckled. He nodded in response, and you really couldn't help yourself. "But, you know my name now; how about yours?" You inquired, trying to make small talk.

Simon leaned back into the booth, taking you in more before responding. "Simon," he stated simply, his voice like gravel. It softened slightly as he added, "Was a damn clever move, puttin' in the order early." His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, suggesting a slight smile you couldn't see behind his black mask. "You always this attentive with your tables?"

"Ah well, when you work in the business for a while, you pick up a thing or two," you explained with a self-assured smile while pouring his tea into a mug. You took him in for a beat; his light-wash jeans were covered in concrete dust, and his white t-shirt had multiple oil stains, among others. The black mask was odd, but plenty of people wear masks out and about these days. Your eyes trailed subtly to his forearm tattoos, but you didn't linger. "You part of that crew building that new skyscraper down the way?" You asked curiously.

"Aye, that's us," he confirmed, the pride in his profession evident even through the stoic delivery. "Construction site manager for that project. It's been a right sod to keep on schedule with all the weather we've been havin'." His hand gestured vaguely to the window beside him, where the rain was still coming down in buckets.

"Should be a right monster of a building once it's done, though. Can see it from miles away," he added, a bit of admiration and pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Sounds like quite the task, being a manager of such a large project and team," you commented, raising your eyebrows. You'd held a manager position at your last serving job and even just that was a lot. You couldn't imagine the enormous undertaking of managing a whole skyscraper project.

"Like herdin' cats most of the time, but... bigger and a lot more swearing involved," he chuckled softly. When you joined him, it was like he realized he'd let the sound out and then cleared his throat. "But yeah, bloody nightmare somedays, but it's what I do," he finished.

"An' the rain?" you asked, gesturing to the window with your carafe. Simon rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

"The rain," he said glancing back out at the storm, "sure doesn't make the job any easier, but gives me an excuse to come here and get out of the wet for a bit." His eyes landed back on to you, the brown in them a little warmer than when he first came in.

You smiled, seeing that his shoulders relaxed slightly more. That alone was a job well done for you. "Well, glad to provide a little bit of respite," you said good naturedly. "I'll quit talkin' off your ear off though, and let you get back to your meal. Just call me out if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll be back with the check," You nodded with the tea carafe and turned away to attend your other tables in your section.

Simon, for his part, watched you turn, feeling your presence wane like a warmth he hadn't realized he was basking in for the moment. He tore his gaze away from you, the reality of his solitude trickling back in as he dug into the meal that had completely gone unnoticed until now.

"All done here?" You said, picking up his plate a little while later. "Just the check or would like some tea for the road?" You asked.

"Jus' the check, thanks," he said with decisiveness. It was your turn to nod as you fished the check out of your apron to place it on the table. You watched as Simon pulled his wallet out and placed the notes on top of the slip, not missing the extra he had added. he shifted out the booth and stood gazing down at you. "Thanks for the quick service, keep the change," he said in a gruff but appreciative tone.

"Just don' my job. The cook makes it real easy though. She whips up meals faster than you can blink," you joked with a chuckle. "So, Mr. Simon, same time, same meal tomorrow?" You beamed, returning his gaze.

Simon gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Same time, same meal." With that he headed towards the door, his footsteps echoing softly against the diner's linoleum floor. You watched him go, with a small smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Maybe there was more to Simon than just grunts and nods after all.

As you continued your work day, the interaction with Simon would pop up when your mind wasn't occupied, and you couldn't help but be curious about the masked construction worker that had graced your section. It was a curiosity that had you looking forward to tomorrow. Same time, same meal.

I'm thinking of doing more tandem POV going forward because I know that man had some thoughts. Would that be confusing? Idk, anyways, hope y'all enjoyed 😘

[hummingbird24220]

Chapter Ten: Fur, Freedom, and Vengeance by Shake

The crew packed up the next morning, tanned and full of grilled fish and questionable juice blends (courtesy of Luffy). The Sunny was stocked, sails flapping lazily in the breeze.

Everyone was ready to head out.

Except for one crewmate.

“Wait—she’s still on the island?” Nami asked, squinting from the deck.

Chopper, through binoculars: “Yep. Still in the water.”

Sanji, climbing the rail: “Is she... naked?!”

“She’s covered in fur, Sanji,” Robin replied calmly.

“She still has shapes!” he cried, bleeding from the nose anyway.

You had stayed behind.

Why?

Because the water was perfect. Because you were a creature of instinct. Because clothes—even your cute beach-wrapped kimono—were a hindrance to peak aquatic chaos.

Now, free of shorts and shirt, fur slicked to your frame, you cut through the ocean like a missile with claws. Ears flattened, tail slicing the water, eyes gleaming with feral joy.

You were, in short, thriving.

Zoro, unfortunately, was not.

The swordsman had been left to "retrieve" you, mostly because Nami threatened to dock the crews snack privileges if you didn’t return before noon. He stood at the shore like a dad picking up his overexcited cat-kid from the pool, arms crossed, very much not amused.

You emerged from the water in full strut—dripping wet, gleaming in the sun like some kind of fuzzy sea demon, carrying a spear you’d found somewhere (no one would ever know where).

“Hey, moss head!” you called cheerfully. “Did you miss me?”

Zoro sighed. “Get dressed.”

You padded up the sand slowly, tail swaying, teeth flashing in a grin.

“Why? You afraid of my natural power?”

“I’m afraid of catching something,” he muttered.

You reached him. Paused. Tilted your head.

Then—without warning—you did it.

You shook.

FULL-BODY, VIOLENT, DOG-LIKE SHAKE.

Water flew everywhere. Sand kicked up. The sound was ungodly.

Zoro flinched as a wave of sea mist and damp fur assaulted him.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

You looked up, proud and dripping, grinning like the menace you were.

“Gotta dry off somehow,” you said sweetly.

Zoro stared at you, drenched. His hair was wet. His shirt was soaked. His swords gleamed with an ocean sheen.

“I am going to yeet you into the sun,” he muttered.

You took off running toward the ship.

“YOU’VE GOTTA CATCH ME FIRST, WET SOCK!”

Minutes later, you swung aboard the Sunny, now hastily redressed, still damp, tail swishing with satisfaction.

“What did you do to Zoro?” Nami asked as he stomped up the gangplank, soaked and seething.

“He asked for it,” you replied.

“I did not!”

Robin chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You spun in a lazy circle, flicking more droplets on the deck.

“Weaponized cuteness, baby.”

Zoro muttered darkly and disappeared below deck.

Luffy threw a towel at you. “Next time, I’m joining!”

“You have to earn the right to Shake Zone,” you said smugly.

He gasped. “Challenge accepted!”

------

It started with Chopper.

You were dozing on the Sunny’s deck after lunch, belly-up and tail flicking lazily, when Chopper walked by, carrying a stack of herbs. He paused. Stared. Your ears twitched in your sleep. Your nose wriggled.

He glanced left. Right. No witnesses.

Gentle pat.

Right between the ears.

You cracked one eye open. “...You touch me?”

Chopper froze. “Uh… maybe?”

You considered this. Blinked slowly.

Then flopped onto your side.

“…S’fine,” you mumbled. “Little more to the left next time.”

Then it was Robin.

You were lounging over the banister, chin resting on your arms, watching fish in the water below when a hand appeared out of nowhere and scratched just under your chin.

You froze.

She didn’t even look up from her book. “I’ve been curious.”

You purred. Loudly. Embarrassingly.

Robin smiled.

You said nothing, pretending it hadn’t happened.

Luffy was next.

He didn’t ask. He just walked by, saw you curled in a pile of towels, said “FLUFF,” and buried both hands into your fur like you were a living beanbag.

“Luffy—Luffy what are you—Luffy—”

“You’re so soft!!”

“I have claws!”

“Your claws are soft too!”

“THAT’S NOT A COMPLIMENT!”

You bit him lightly on the wrist. He laughed and patted your head like a dog.

Nami was harder to crack. She liked her space. But one night, as you sat beside her watching the stars in silence, your tail flicked over her hand.

She didn’t move it.

Just slowly, carefully, scratched behind your ear.

You didn’t move either.

Until you melted.

“...Traitor,” you mumbled to your own tail as it curled around your leg protectively.

“Relax,” Nami whispered. “We all need a little comfort sometimes.”

Even Zoro got in on it—by accident.

You’d flopped against his side on the observation deck, half-asleep and not even trying to be subtle anymore. He was sharpening his sword, and you just… leaned.

He grunted, shifted.

You growled low in protest.

He grunted again.

Then, with a sigh, scratched you behind the ear.

“…Don’t tell anyone,” he muttered.

“Too late,” Sanji said from the stairs.

“I WILL KILL YOU.”

“Not before I get a turn—hey, fuzzball, come here!”

“TOO LATE,” you shouted, bolting like a gremlin, tail puffed with chaos.

By the end of the week, petting you had become some unspoken crew event.

Not all the time.

Not without permission.

But occasionally—between missions, naps, or late-night watches—you’d find yourself flopped over someone’s lap, tail curled, a steady hand scratching just behind your ear.

You never asked for it.

But you never stopped it either.

And when they caught you purring?

You just grumbled, “That’s your fault for having really good hands,” and buried your face deeper into the blanket.