hiii, I forgot to send a req‼️ it was my birfday yesterday on the 2nd so this is perfect ! I wanted to ask if you could do a scenario for s2 Thorfinn and a female reader from the fluff prompt,, “ you’re a good person. good people deserve to be safe. “ LOVE your work btw 🖤🖤🖤
Hello and very late happy birthday! I hope this can still be nice for you before the year ends!
Thank you very much :)
This one was kinda hard? It honestly got me thinking about Thorfinn and his sense of morality + possible guilt + self-image...
This is also the last request in my ask box!
(Request) - "You're a good person; Good people deserve to be safe." - Slave Arc! Thorfinn with female!Reader
It was a foolish decision. To be quite honest, it was unlike him.
Children frolicking about as they fill buckets of water or carry hay isn't an strange sight here. However, unlike him, they aren't slaves.
Looking down on the boy though, he was worse for wear.
An even younger girl was beside him, tugging on his sleeves to stand up. Tears filled her eyes rather quickly as if she was used to her brother getting kicked to the ground.
"A gnarly kid like you can't do the honorable work of a farmer!"
He didn't know what's gotten into him nor was there a second where doubt entered his mind - perhaps, there was though, to surpess any potential rage. He was a slave, touching this child was off-limits for he was a kid burdened by his absent father's debt. The boy didn't know what he was doing but only followed the routine of the others and worked twice as hard to cover for his younger sibling.
He was not allowed to touch. Not allowed to intervene and raise his voice but he acted as if he was free. And though Snake was quickly there to calm the fight, Thorfinn was still left with a bruise on his cheek. The children were shooed away.
"...Why do you keep being a fool?" The cold, wet cloth burned against his face. Your question so small as if you were the one hit. Moving his jaw hurt too much. Instead he sat still, straight as he could and bit down any complains as you rubbed his face. The cloth somehow hurt against his beard, too.
"But...you did good. Not...for them but, it was right regardless. The workers had no right to push a kid around that wanted to work, too. But you ought to be more careful." A subtle glance to the left. Thorfinn still harbored this childish habit of avoiding your scoldings. The evenings where the only times you two could meet up without the expectation to be seen working. At least near the house of the Grandmaster - no one else to scold or tattle was nearby.
You sat up straight after dipping your hand into the water. His face grew softer in the years, eyes big and brown and warm, even as he shrinks at your touch. Though he refused to cut his hair even as the Master is the kind of man to not care for the appeareances of his slaves. Whyever he decides to keep his blonde hair so long was a mystery to you.
"I'm sure the kids will come to realize that too and be thankful. You're a good person."
The cold felt staggering.
'Good'. It was a lie. The way the word alone left his heart stuttering as if caught in a trap proves it.
"...I'm good?" He muttered in disbelief. Eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"
With that counter alone, your smile turned sour. The frown on his face let you know that he was aware of what exactly you meant. A single good thing isn't enough to deem one good. Not when you saw him strike down so many - not purely out of survival but also out a deep hatred.
Back then he barely bat an eye. For hatred was a companion to him for years. Yet now, with feeling next to nothing for a man rotting beneath the soils he plows on now, he feels...free. Free of a burden while deeply regretting it.
Your paths are the same. Yet you cannot deny a flimmer of good in him, as starved and low as it may be.
"...When you were there for me, yes. Approaching and protecting me...Einar and Arnheid and these children." A moment passed before you wrung the cloth and pressed it gently against his cheek. It felt sharp, waking him. "You're a a good person. Good people deserve to be safe."
It was times like these were his mind goes blank, abandoning him in crucial places and situations and only his body is left responsible. Palm warm and rough against your knuckles, brown eyes avoiding you, again; Biting his lip to keep any foolish words in.
Staying, waiting, leaning against your hand. Lately, he'd always shy away from others and their praise - for someone who used to be so reticent. He did not care of how he was perceived, of how he hurt and helped and who he would become.
"...If I am, then you deserve to be safe tenfold." Thorfinn mumbled against your hand. For being this good now. For choosing to be this good despite the capibility not to be and to return to the one you once were. What he once was.
"Do you mean that?" "I do. You're not...who you used to be. That's good."
Safe under a roof with walls to keep you warm from any of nature's whims. Safe with people who'd never betray and abandon. Safe in someone's arms as they deem you good enough to keep on living.
"We shouldn't go back to the battlefiled, not ever." The blonde's plea clear and vivd, straightening his back and staring into your eyes, begging, imploring for you to agree. "No. We shouldn't. I'd rather stay here...even in a place like this when it's with you. Because I...I don't think I can go back before you."
There's an intensity, a chagrin and pain steeled in his eyes as his other hands rose to cup your face, as yours does his. His thumb absent-mindedly caressed the skin under your eye as his gazed over you. "...Neither can I. I...want to stay like this. Become stronger, kinder...a true warrior."
ahh, I'm sorry for not having continued with TWDG-tober‼️ i got swarmed with responsibilities and extra socializing and other art projects, so I got burnt out (╥﹏╥)
i do wanna post more art here in general tho, so take these sketches of mine figuring out Thorfinn's face–from Peakland Vinland Saga
I know, completely unrelated lol but it's all I got to offer for now (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
"Forgive me, I wish that my memory was clearer. I cannot recall if we stood here together once, in another life."
"I'd like to think we have."
— caldarus from fields of mistria 🐉⋆.ೃ࿔*:·
⛤ "pick up the phone. the party's finished and i want you to know... i'm all alone, i'm feeling everything before i got up. i only want you when i'm coming down." - the weeknd
⛤ a/n: HI ALLLLL so idk if you read my little announcement but this is my apology for disappearing for 5wks lol. ANYWAY! not gonna say too much i havent already said but i realllllly hope yall like this. it's just a lil sum sum short to keep yall full while i finish up some updates (and there are... many lol.) love yall! x (not beta'd at all).
YOU HAD A BIT OF AN ISSUE. You see, it was bad enough getting involved with that damned Public Safety officer you'd met at the bar a few weeks back, Aki. Your best friend had warned you about it, told you that it was a horrible idea.
Truthfully, though, you'd been replaying the night the two of you met ever since the... well, the morning after.
You see, it started the night you invited your three roommates out to have some fun. Fresh out of yet another failed talking stage -- one that had lasted three whole weeks -- you were feeling spiteful. So, naturally, you did what any pretty, college-aged girl would have done. You threw on your sluttiest outfit -- a lace-up leather halter top that left nothing to the imagination and a matching black miniskirt along with your favorite pair of knee-high black boots -- and headed straight to the party district with your friends.
Roppongi.
You'd had all of the confidence in the world when you walked in. In fact, you'd even managed to score a couple of free drinks for you and your friends (even though all four of you had pregamed enough to last you an entire night beforehand to save on liquor costs).
It was everything you needed. Breathless fun, the kind that had you swinging around with your girls on the dance floor until the lights all bled into one color. Until the troubles faded away. Until the glitter on your eyeshadow fell onto your cheeks.
"I'm gonna get another drink," You had whispered into one of your roommate's ear, practically leaning over her as you did so.
"What? You're not drunk already?" She'd asked.
To which, of course, you had replied, "Not drunk enough."
So, on unsteady feet, you made your way through the crowd to the lively bar. It took you a minute to regain your senses once you were there, adjusting to how still everything was over there in comparison, but, eventually, you were able to find a stool and lower yourself down onto it.
You were about to beckon the waiter over, ask for your favorite drink, before someone sat down next to you.
"Is this seat taken?" A voice called out behind you.
Not that it mattered, of course, as he was already sitting.
The man was rather tall in stature -- long legs touching the ground where yours dangled. He was wearing a pair of slacks and a white button-down dress shirt (with the top two buttons undone). Your eyes drank him in from his Converse shoes to his clavicle, then up his neck to his face.
He was handsome, no doubt about it. More handsome than anyone who had any right making conversation with you. With half-lidded blue eyes, pink lips, and a boyish face, in fact, you figured he might very well have been one of the most attractive men you'd ever had the satisfaction of conversing with.
Shit, he made the dude you'd just spent the last three weeks talking to look like a charity case.
"No.." You couldn't tear your eyes away from his face. And, apparently, neither could he from yours. "Nice ponytail."
Truthfully, you'd never seen anyone else pull it off better. His dark hair flattered his complexion. Tastefully enough, he left soft-looking tufts of hair out to frame his face and cover his forehead.
He didn't laugh at your attempt at a joke, but his lips quirked just faintly enough for you to see it beneath the bar's dim light. "That's what you open with?"
Deciding that this man would be your next victim of the night (for free drinks, of course), you leaned in, smirking, "Well, you sat down without asking, so I figured I had the right to compliment it."
"Compliment, right," He played along. "I guess I should thank you, then."
"You guess?" You asked.
"Fine. Thanks," He finally met your eyes, voice both low and deliberate. "That better?"
And, because you were a glutton for the whole mysterious-bad-boy look, you held his gaze for a beat longer than you probably should have. "Much."
The bartender finally drifted down to your end of the counter, wiping his hands on a rag and raising his brows in silent question.
Aki tipped his chin toward you first. “What’s your vice?”
You tilted your head, lips curving in a smile. “Rum.”
He didn’t even hesitate, eyes flicking back to the bartender. “Two mojitos.”
Your brows arched. “Oh? Deciding for me already? And who said you could buy me a drink?”
He met your look, unfazed, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Didn’t sound like you had a problem with it.”
Oh, he's fiesty, you thought, I'm keeping him.
“I didn’t say I did,” you countered, tapping your nails lightly against the bar top. “I just thought you might want to ask how I like it first.”
"How you like it?" The ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth, and you tried your very best not to think about how else you would like it. “If it’s rum, you’ll drink it. And if you don’t, I’ll finish it for you.”
You gave a short laugh, leaning in closer. “Confident.”
“Not really,” he said, voice smooth, almost conspiratorial. "It's an act."
The bartender slid the drinks across the polished wood. Cold condensation beaded down the glass as Aki pushed one toward you with a casual flick of his fingers. His eyes never left yours.
He's gorgeous.
You picked it up, brushing your straw against the rim before taking a sip. Sweet, fresh mint cut with the bite of rum -- exactly what you needed. You set it down, lips curving. “Not bad, Mister..."
"Aki," he answered, "And it's Captain, if we're being formal."
"Captain?" You answered back, not buying a word of his act. "Of what? Bullshit?"
"No. A Public Safety Division, but that's basically the same thing," He grinned. Briefly, you thought he had the prettiest smile you'd ever seen.
"No shit...?" You trailed off, "Thank you for your... service?"
Aki’s grin widened just a fraction, sharp and amused. “That sounded sincere.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Didn’t plan on it.” He leaned back slightly, but his gaze never left you, like he was taking his time memorizing every flicker of expression. “So… you come here often?”
You barked out a laugh, almost spilling your drink. “Really? You’re pulling that line on me? I thought you were better than that.”
“Didn’t say it was my best,” he replied easily, his tone low and even. “Just wanted to see how you’d answer.”
“Oh, so this is an interrogation now? Figures. Captain of Public Safety, right? Trying to profile me?”
“Maybe.” His smirk returned, slow and tantalizing. “You strike me as someone who thrives on a little trouble.”
“And you strike me as someone who is trouble,” you shot back, lifting your glass and clinking it lightly against his before taking a sip.
He tilted his head, conceding the point. “Oh, I am. You have no clue. I'm a bad idea."
"Well, I've been told I'm full of bad ideas," you retorted.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between stretched taut. You let your hand trail down from the bar top, almost absently, until your finger brushed against his thigh beneath the counter.
His body stilled at once. Not a flinch, not a recoil -- just that coiled quiet of someone holding back. His gaze cut to yours, though the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
“That so?” His voice had dropped, smooth but edged now, every syllable careful.
You let your fingertip linger just long enough to feel the heat of him through fabric, then pulled back like nothing had happened, your glass rising lazily to your lips. “Mhm,” you hummed, taking a sip.
You were playing a dangerous, dangerous game.
“Not bad,” he said finally, his eyes catching yours, holding them.
You felt the air tighten between you. Your brows arched, feigning composure you weren’t sure you had. “Not bad? That’s all I get?”
“Maybe,” he murmured, deliberate and sure, his voice carrying just enough to drown out the room. “If you’re lucky, you’ll earn better.”
And that's how you wound up in the small, cramped bathroom of the bar with him, liplocked while he pinned you against the door. It was a drunken mess of tongue and teeth, more spit than finnesse, but you were lost in it. On the bathroom sink, your phone buzzed away -- your friends, probably, wondering your whereabouts.
But you didn't even fucking care. All that mattered to you was the heat, the weight of him pressed up against you -- bigger and far more muscled than any man you'd been with before. He was so much stronger than you that you didn't dare to try and move, simply content to have his arms caging you in, his lips straying from your neck to trail down the valley of your neck.
"Wanna taste you," He breathed.
He was on a mission to mark you, clearly, and you were stupid enough to let him. When he rolled the sensitive skin between his teeth and sucked gently on it, you gasped, fingers clawing at his back for purchase.
"Someone could hear us," you shuddered against him, but made no move to stop him.
You weren't about to let a man you just met ravage you in the bathroom. No, you definitely weren't.
But Aki, with his sweet words and pretty eyes, was already dropping to his knees. hands sliding up your trembling thighs, feeling the hot skin through the fishnet. "Let them hear."
And, to make a long story short, you came twice that night. Once on his face, after he tore the fishnets off of you, and once on, well...
Ahem.
The two of you grew close quite quickly after the night you'd spent together. Naturally, you had invited him to your apartment to continue the fun after your first spiritual experience. He wasn't there when you woke up, and at first, that made you sad.
But, then, you spotted a little note on your nightstand -- one with a man's handwriting on it, and a couple of digits that had to have been his phone number -- and a little lighter.
You had never texted anyone so quickly in your entire life.
YOU: hey, you left your lighter here! x
AKI: i know.
AKI: tragic. guess we'll have to arrange a meeting so i can come get it.
YOU: absolutely devastating.
So, three more weeks (and many, many orgasms later), you were whipped. He was coming over nearly every night after work at some point.
Why?
"You're like my stress relief," He told you.
And, shit, you weren't about to complain.
One small issue, though.
It was hard to get off yourself on the nights when he didn't come by when you had already tasted the forbidden fruit. In other words, you couldn't fucking cum without him. To the thought of him, his hands, or something else.
He was like a fucking drug.
You’d been at it for what felt like forever, shifting under the sheets, biting down on your lower lip until it hurt, fingers slick but useless. Nothing worked. Not your vibrator, not your hand, not even the way you pressed your pillow tight between your thighs. Nothing gave you that dizzying release you were aching for.
Your chest heaved as you flopped back against the pillows, arm thrown over your face. You were sweaty, agitated, raw from trying. The clock on your nightstand glared back at you... past midnight. You should’ve been asleep fucking hours ago.
But the bed felt too big without him.
You were at your wits’ end. You hated how dependent you’d become on him. How every time your fingers slipped down between your thighs, all you could think of was his mouth, his hands, his voice low in your ear while he fucked you stupid.
And now he wasn’t here.
He was out of town on a mission -- he’d told you before he left. You’d nodded, said you’d be fine, even kissed him goodbye. But now? Now you were restless, lonely, and embarrassingly close to tears from how badly you needed him.
Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, screen lighting up the dark room. His contact stared back at you.
You hit call.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then: “...Hello?” His voice was groggy, low, a little rough from sleep, and instantly your stomach flipped.
“Aki,” you whispered, breathless. “I- I can’t.”
A pause. “Can’t what, pretty, everything okay?” His tone sharpened, awake now.
Silence stretched on the other end, heavy, crackling with static and something else.
Then you heard him exhale, long and slow.
“Poor baby,” His voice was lower now, rougher, and you could practically hear the smirk he was trying to hide. "Miss me? Put the phone on speaker."
You did exactly that, flipping your phone open and setting it onto the pillow beside you. Then, waiting for his next command, you kept your hands on your thighs.
"I want you to tease yourself. The way I do," He breathed out. "Don't think. Just listen to what I tell you, okay?"
"Okay," You answered with a breathless grin.
“Start with your chest,” he said. “Thumbs, gentle… soft… like I’m there, running my hands over you. Take your time. Don’t rush.”
You obeyed. Thumb sliding over the curve of your breast, fingertips circling your achy nipples, pressing lightly. Your breath caught, every nerve ending alive. The memory of him pressed in your chest, hands warm, intent, made your pulse spike.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now slide lower… your thighs. Inside. I want to hear the little sounds you make when you touch yourself where I always do.”
Your fingers hesitated, then slid down, teasing over the warm, slick skin between your legs. Your hips lifted involuntarily.
“That’s it,” he said. “God, just picturing you killing me. I bet you look so pretty for me. You know I’d be on my knees in front of you right now if I could. Tell me how badly you miss me.”
You swallowed, heat blooming across your chest and through your thighs. “I.. I miss you,” you whispered. “Miss your hands, your mouth…”
“Mhm, good girl,” he said, voice low, growling. “Keep talking for me, pretty baby."
You did. Your voice shook as you described exactly how you needed him -- his fingers, large and certain, crooked up deep inside of you. His lips on your neck, your clit. Him, stretching you out until you couldn't think of anything other than his name.
Aki. Aki. AKi.
"Aki."
There was a low, uneven breath from him. Rustling. The sound of him shifting. Your stomach flipped.
“Keep going for me,” you whispered, fingers moving faster.
“Fuck, pretty…” he groaned. “You’re making me crazy. If I were there right now, I'd take care of you. Shit, I'd be the one fucking you, instead of your fingers."
Your fingers froze for a moment, then followed the image he painted, pressing your chest, sliding down your thighs, circling yourself where you knew he would while he drove you into your mattress.
“Now,” he said, voice thick, low, fucking nasty. “I’d curl my fingers into you, just there -- right where you can’t reach -- and hold you. You’d be dripping for me, and I’d make sure every inch of you was mine before you even had a chance to breathe.”
You shivered, biting your lip. “God… Aki.”
“You like thinking about that, don’t you? You like when I tell you how I'd make a mess out of you?” he muttered. “Sweet baby, so wet for me already. I’d tease you until you begged me to stop. I'd give you what you want, though, I promise. I'd make the neighbors file another noise complaint.”
Your hand trembled, sliding over yourself, pressing into the heat between your thighs. “Fuck me…” you cursed, almost sobbing.
"Don't tempt me."
You bit back a giggle at the words.
“I’d start slow with you. Take my time,” he said, voice low, rough, clipped with want. "I’d hold your thighs apart with one hand, eat you up until you were running from me. I’d make you scream, baby.”
“I’m… I’m close,” you gasped, fingers moving faster, chest rising and falling.
“Good,” he said, almost whispering. “I want to hear it. Let me know I’m the only thing that can make you feel this way.”
You did. Voice tight and ragged, small whines breaking through every sentence, pressing into your chest and sliding down, over and over.
He guided you, telling you when to circle, when to press harder, when to slow, when to linger.
“You’re mine, right?” he said suddenly. “Say it. Say it for me.”
He exhaled sharply, rough, hot through the line. “Fuck… you’re killing me, baby. I swear, if I were there right now, you’d be shaking under me, begging for me. I-- God-- fuck, I’d make you forget your own name while I fucked you with my fingers, tongue, hands, anything you fucking wanted."
You couldn't think of anything you wanted more.
Your thighs trembled, chest tight, heart racing. Fingers moving fast, chest rising and falling, every nerve ending screaming. You could feel it building, sharp, relentless.
“Baby,” he said, voice rougher, low and dangerous, “I want you to give it to me. I want to hear you. Show me how badly you need me.”
Your back arched -- practically on command, and you moaned sinfully down the line.
“Fuck,” he muttered sharply. The sound of him on the other end, voice broken, low, and ragged...
"Are you... touching yourself, too?" You asked.
"Baby, I was hard the moment you called me. Shit, I'm about to hop a bullet train just to come see you."
“That wouldn’t be responsible, Captain,” you murmured, thighs trembling.
“You calling me that only makes me wanna do it more,” he growled.
Cute. And they say romance is dead.
“Harder,” he whispered, voice almost pleading. “Give it to me, baby. All of it. I need it. I need you like this.”
And you did. Trembling, shaking, collapsing into it. Fingers moving in desperate rhythm over your clit, chest tight, thighs alive with fire. The release hit like a storm, flooding through you in waves while he groaned, low and ragged, on the line.
“You’re insane,” he muttered, voice thick, rough. “And perfect. God… I’ll be there soon."
"How soon?" You asked.
"I could be there in thirty, if you think you can wait," He answered.
You pressed the phone under your pillow, trembling, chest tight, thighs still tingling.
"...You want that, baby?"
"Aki," You breathed. "Quit stalling and come fuck me already."
“Shit, I’ll be there soon,” he repeated softly, the promise alone making your chest tighten again.
True to his word, he was there in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes later, he showed up at your apartment door. Five minutes after that, the two of you were making out in your bed.
And then, one hour after that, you'd been fucked so thoroughly that you couldn't even walk.
Because Aki would be damned if he left his not-quite-girl needy. And he always pulled through for you.
a/n: not sure how i feel about this buttttt more sexy goodness coming soon i promise yall x lmk what u thought in the commentssss
banner credits: idk actually pls lmk if you know . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!
blakekathryn
2087
prguitarman
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
gracieabrams
