#if you find kittens outside the first thing you need to do is assess their condition | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 || niki lauda x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: niki takes only very calculated risks, except when you’re around to show him how to have a bit more fun.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: about 3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: smut (semi-public sex, rough-ish sex, road head, very slight dubcon but really just mild hesitance), a touch of degradation (but it comes from a place of love I promise), spanking (briefly), established relationship, niki being massively introverted and slightly rude (but like, same)

[gif is mine, which explains why it looks so bad]

“How long do we have to stay here?” Niki mumbled into your ear, making you roll your eyes.

“We’ve only just arrived,” you reminded him. “It’s a lovely afternoon, it’s a beautiful property, and I want you to meet my friends.”

“I know, I’m not trying to suggest we leave too quickly, I just want to know how much dull conversation I’m in for.”

You shoved his shoulder, only as hard as you thought you could without disturbing the flute of champagne in his hand. “I hope nobody hears you talking that way.”

Before he could respond, the owner of the aforementioned beautiful property stepped up and extended his hand to Niki warmly. “You must be the elusive Nikolaus we’ve heard so much about!”

“Just Niki is fine, thank you,” he returned with a firm shake and a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The small talk went on that way for a while, with Niki just barely managing to come across as socially acceptable and thankfully staying away from too much racing talk (even when other guests tried to egg him on for more details about it).

That was one of the many interesting things about your boyfriend: it wasn’t that he lacked any social intelligence, in fact he had more than most crowds he was in put together, it was just that he didn’t really seem to mind if people saw him as a bit cold or standoffish. He could be incredibly charming, after all he had charmed you quite easily, but he preferred to be brutally honest. All was well so long as honesty and politeness didn’t interfere.

After a few conversations where you clung to his arm and laughed at all his jokes, you could see him becoming visibly tired of it all; he ran his fingers through his sandy-blonde curls more often, he began to toy with the button of his blazer, all signs of subtle irritation that only you would pick up on. It made you realize you should find a way to excuse the two of you for a moment, to give him a break.

“Say, Niki, would you like to take a walk in the vineyard?” you offered, hoping your friends would pick up on the signal not to invite themselves along.

“Yes, schatz, that would be lovely,” he nodded, and as the two of you quickly waved goodbye to those you had been conversing with, he grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“What do you think of them?” you prompted when you were far enough away from everyone else that you knew he wouldn’t be heard.

“They have a lot of questions,” he mumbled exhaustedly, making you laugh.

“They want to get to know you better! I’ve been subjecting them to hours of going on and on about you, no wonder they’re excited to finally hear it straight from the man himself,” you explained.

“I imagine they’re rather disappointed,” he smirked.

“Niki, of course they’re not!” you gasped. “In fact, I bet they’re pleasantly surprised considering I told them so many awful things about you.”

He laughed lightly, looking down at the ground, and you walked around in front of him to grab the lapel of his blazer and pull him closer. As he leaned in for a kiss, you kept leaning back with a smirk, making him chase you. It didn’t last long, of course, his patience running thin until he grabbed your face and crashed his lips against yours. You melted into it, moaning softly when his tongue traced over your lips and finally slipped into your mouth.

It was you chasing him when he pulled back, already totally lost in him and ready to ditch the party just to kiss him for an hour.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he decided, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and lips that were a bit pinker than usual as well as fallen slack.

“You shouldn’t kiss me so good after I tease you like that, and I’ll have no reason to,” you countered.

When you turned around you realized you were approaching the driveway where you’d parked in the first place, and Niki immediately stepped up to the car. “Let’s take a drive,” he suggested, but it didn’t quite feel like a suggestion when he was already opening your door for you and ushering you in.

“Wh— really?” you questioned, but you were already in your seat and he had shut the door behind you, circling the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. “Where are we going to go?” you asked when he got behind the wheel and turned the key.

“Just around, we’ll be back soon,” he shrugged, and you decided not to question it anymore; clearly, this was his best way to clear his head, and you were just happy he wanted you to come with him.

He took the car out of the driveway and started a journey down the road; you looked out the window at the scenery rolling by, and realized this was probably as good a way as any to show him the vineyard like you promised. But, when you looked back at him where he was stoically staring out, steering through the twists and turns of the countryside road like it was second nature, you decided it was a better view than the scenery outside.

When you reached up to turn on the radio, he quickly smacked your hand— lightly, but enough to make you frown. “Hey!” you defended, returning your hand to your lap.

“I prefer not to have music on when I drive,” he explained. “It distracts me.”

You snorted out a laugh. “You’re one of the best drivers alive, I figured you can manage a few distractions.”

“I can,” he countered, and you were a bit surprised that he didn’t challenge the qualifier of one of the best drivers alive. “I just mean that the sound of the car is more entertaining to me than music.”

That answer sounded a lot more like the Niki you knew, and you smiled as you laid back against the passenger seat. “You have a funny idea of entertainment, Niki,” you informed him.

“I know,” he nodded.

Glancing over at him, admiring his profile as he stared down at the road ahead, your lip caught in your teeth as you had a really, really bad idea. “So you can drive with distractions?”

“If I need to,” he shrugged.

“Then maybe we can both get some entertainment,” you purred, sitting up and starting to lean closer to him.

“Schatz, what are you doing?” he stammered slightly, watching you with wide eyes as you reached to his belt, opening it quickly and already unzipping his fly.

“Shh, focus on the road Niki,” you winked, pulling his cock from his trousers and grinning at the way he gasped slightly. It wasn’t quite hard yet, but it was growing quickly in your grasp, and a few kitten licks over the tip certainly helped him along.

“F-fuck,” he whispered above you, and you fought your smile as you wrapped your lips around him. “Fuck.”

You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, moaning a bit just from the taste of a drop of precum forming at his slit and smearing on your tongue.

“Wait, this— this is dangerous,” he breathed, and you kept stroking while you pulled off to reply.

“Shouldn’t be if you drive steady.”

“I can do that,” he nodded. “I think…”

You got back to it before he could start worrying again. The poor guy was always thinking, constantly assessing and analyzing everything, and it honestly sounded fucking exhausting. Sometimes you thought sucking him off was the only way to really get him out of his head, and considering the way his body relaxed under your touch and he let out a soft sigh, this was one of those times.

“Baby,” he moaned lowly as your lips met the base of his cock, and although you were certainly partial to the petnames in his native tongue, you really didn’t mind the way he called you ‘baby’ either. It made you want to keep him buried in your throat forever, but sadly you could only go so long without breathing.

So, instead, you just found a pattern you were happy with of sucking the head and stroking the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, reaching down with one hand to hold the back of your head, guiding your movements.

You had to be careful not to block the gear shift when you were bent over like this, which was a bit uncomfortable but ultimately so worth it when he shifted gears quickly while you were still bobbing your head over his length. Now you understood why he liked to hear the car… because now you could feel the car, feel the engine’s thrum as it reverberated through the steel and over your body. It was actually a bit erotic, now that you thought about it; but then again, everything seems erotic when you’re as turned on as you were in the moment, your body crying out for more than it would have a chance to get any time soon.

He shifted gears again, taking the car around a tight turn, and you held onto his thighs tightly to keep from moving too much. Thankfully he kept his promise to drive steady and it was pretty easy to keep your pace, even to speed it up as you hoped he would come down your throat without ever stopping the car or even slowing down.

The way he hissed in a sharp breath and grabbed your hair, accidentally pulling it (which you certainly didn't mind), made you think it wasn't so far off.

"God, you're a devil with that tongue, schatz," he groaned. "Your mouth is so fucking sweet, you'll make me come."

You hoped your little hum around him made it clear that that was exactly what you wanted.

"You'll swallow it all, yes?" he pressed. "You're not going to let any mess get on my beautiful leather seats, are you?"

You hummed again, sucking harder, and he moaned a bit louder.

"Fuck, j-just like that," he sighed. "Don't— ah— don't stop, schatz, I'm close."

As if you would stop when all you could think about was the taste of him, how badly you wanted it to coat your tongue. Already you could feel his cock starting to flex against your tongue and you doubled your efforts to bring him to the edge. Normally you didn’t get a chance to hear his little moans and sighs because you were too busy making your own, so with your mouth full you could appreciate the sounds he made just for you.

It was only a stuttered gasp that signaled his release, just before ropes of warm come started to hit the back of your throat. You narrowly avoided gagging from the way his hand pushed you down and held you there, but you moaned around him at the taste. Your channel was throbbing, clearly annoyed that he was coming anywhere else.

Niki whispered your name, nearly choked on it, and let go as the pulses began to die down and he let out a long, sharp breath. But you weren’t quite done; you kept moving for a few moments, slowly, making sure to have every drop in your mouth before you finally pulled off and swallowed; you noticed a spare drop of come rolling down his shaft and stuck your tongue out to lick it up in a quick swipe while he noticeably tensed beneath you.

He spared a glance at you as you sat up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and you didn’t miss the shocked, yet exhausted, look on his face. "Satisfied?" you asked with a proud grin.

"Not quite," he answered in a growl, pulling the car to the side of the road and parking it quickly. "Get out and bend over the hood."

"Niki, what if someone—?"

"I think I made myself clear, get out and bend over the hood, schatz."

The petname had a lot more venom to it when he said it like that, with a cold sneer on his lips, and that likely should’ve deterred you but it only stoked the flame of need burning in your gut, and you nodded meekly before opening your door and getting out of the car. He followed you as you bent over, placing his body behind your as he pulled your dress up and your panties down.

Right away he swiped two fingers through your folds and you shuddered. "Dripping wet," he observed with a smirk. "Do you like having my cock in your mouth that much?"

You nodded, trying to rock your hips for more friction.

"This pussy must have been so lonely,” he realized. “Want me to fill you up, pretty girl?”

“Please,” you breathed, but even you didn’t expect him to shove into you in one stroke, right away, spearing you right to the brim as you choked on a gasp. And he was moving right away, too, giving you no time to adjust to the girth of him. "Fuck, Niki!" you whined, earning you a hard spank to your ass.

You should’ve known he’d get back at you for those few minutes where you wielded power over him. Well, actually, you sort of had known, which was part of why you did it in the first place.

For a man who had just come already, he fucked you with a lot more desperation than you were expecting, fast and rough and dirty. But you realized it was more for your benefit than his; damn him, he always knew exactly what you needed and gave it to you effortlessly, operating your body with the same intuitive precision he drove his cars with.

And if we're continuing with the car metaphors, then reaching around to rub your clit while he fucked you was like kicking you into high gear.

"Ohhhh my god," you crooned, arching your back and trying to push back against his thrusts.

"It feels good?" he asked, like it wasn't obvious.

"Feels so fucking good, Niki, please please please don't stop," you begged. Because you wouldn't put it past him to stop all of a sudden— to slam on the e-brake and not move again until you squirmed and cried and pleaded your little heart out. But even he wouldn't be so cruel now, and he kept fucking you as he pinched your clit hard.

"That's what I thought," he nodded, leaning down to wrap his body over yours and speak into your ear. "You're moaning like a little whore, you know."

"M'your whore," you gasped. "Yours, fuck, it's all for you."

He stood back up straight with a grin and held your hips as he started to really pound into you, your walls beginning to pulse rhythmically as you felt him rubbing over every sensitive spot inside you. His cock was so deep that it felt like you struggled to breathe slightly each time he shoved all the way inside.

It was a bit out of character for him, much more aggressive than he would normally be, but you didn't pull over expecting to make love on the car. No, this was fucking, through and through, and you were already going to hit your high so much sooner than you could've anticipated: pressure was building inside you faster than you knew what to do with, and your clit was literally throbbing with only his balls slapping against it to provide any relief.

"Oh god, Niki, baby, I'm… I'm gonna come," you panted.

"Do it, then," he instructed roughly. "Come around my cock, schatz, and scream nice and loud for me since nobody's around to hear you."

Your knees buckled when it hit you, thankfully you had the car and his tight grip to keep you upright. “Fuck, Niki,” you sobbed, and he laughed proudly before spitting out his demand:

“Louder.”

“Niki!” you yelped, and apparently you had finally said it loud enough, because he was suddenly groaning and spilling inside you, holding your hips tight enough to bruise to keep you still as he thrusted erratically.

You hummed happily and let your head fall onto the warm hood of the car, body going limp as he finally stilled and let out a slow sigh. He was careful as he pulled out, but you were still so sensitive that it made your toes curl inside your shoes just a bit.

Even though he was quick to pull your panties back up, a drop of his come still managed to leak out of your hole and drip down your thigh. With no intent to let it go to waste, Niki swiped it up with the tip of his finger and brought it to your lips for you to lick off; you were still a bit groggy in the afterglow but happily obliged, suckling the digit with a little simultaneous moan and sigh.

“We should be getting back to the party soon,” Niki mumbled, helping you stand upright and straightening your dress for you.

“Do I look alright?” you asked, opening the passenger door and flipping down the visor to try to use the small mirror inside.

“You look gorgeous,” he smiled.

“I mean more if I look like I didn’t just leave a garden party to get railed by my boyfriend on the side of the road only to then return like nothing happened,” you explained.

“Oh… yeah, no, you do look a bit like that’s exactly what you’ve done,” he nodded. “Do you really think they’ll notice?”

“Well, I guess we just have to hope they don’t,” you decided as you attempted to fix your lipstick as best as possible. “And if they do… then we'll hope we don’t end up reading some unsavory gossip about Ferrari’s newest driver in the papers tomorrow.”

He laughed as he got back in the driver’s seat, starting the car while you hopped in (a bit too fast; you winced when you sat down and realized you were still slightly sore and probably would be for the rest of the day). “Trust me, schatz, in this industry, fucking your girlfriend only qualifies as unsavory gossip when you already have a wife at home. And even then, you can get away with it a few times.”

“Right,” you snorted as you rolled your eyes, “I forget sometimes that you’re considered a goody two-shoes for a racer.”

“I hope you didn’t agree to be my girlfriend in search of wild adventures with the bad boy type,” he smirked.

“We just fucked on the car right on the side of the road, Niki,” you reminded him, “believe it or not that’s pretty wild for most of us.”

“For me as well,” he agreed. “It’s you that makes me so bold... sometimes I can hardly believe the things I do because you’re near.”

You smiled happily to yourself, relaxing back against the seat with a deep breath. Just when you let your eyes fall shut as you listened to the engine with him, you were surprised when you heard him turn the radio on.

You, you make loving fun

It’s all I wanna do…

You chuckled. “I like this song,” you announced, reaching to turn it up slightly, though it was still mainly background music as you watched the hillside roll by.

He surprised you again by reaching out and resting his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb over your skin. But his eyes were still on the road, even when you looked over at him, and you recognized the driveway where you’d started down the end of the way.

“Back to reality, eh?” you sighed.

“For now,” he decided. “I should make you meet other drivers and pit crew as revenge for all these social engagements you take me too.”

“Niki, that would require you to socialise with other drivers and pit crew, too,” you noted.

He shuddered. “You should be safe for now, then.”

#niki lauda x reader #and thats it thats all my tags #cause aint nobody gonna read this

714 notes · View notes

agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

A Place Called Home | Chapter 2

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Yoongi has been acting weird since you came back from the hospital but he refuses to tell you anything, not wanting to worry or burden you anymore. You and him go visit someone and you can only hope that the person can cheer Yoongi up.

“Kitten, how many snacks do you want to get?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, chuckling in amusement. You blinked at him, multiple bags of snacks all piled up in your arms.

“He likes snacks.” You said.

“You’re unbelievable. Let me help you.” He took the bags from you, placing them in the basket that he got. You grinned happily and held hands with him as you headed to the cashier. There were still laws that prevented hybrids from having credit cards, which you felt was absolutely ridiculous. So created a card under your name for a joint account with Yoongi.

“Here.” You handed the cashier your card. He nodded, beginning to scan the items. Through all this, he kept a wary gaze on Yoongi. Yoongi didn’t really care as he yawned, rubbing his eye.

“Is something the problem?” You snapped.

“N-No! Sorry.” The cashier, shocked by your sudden call out, sped up the packing. You and Yoongi grabbed the bags and went to the car. You slammed the trunk down.

“Woah, put your claws back kitten.” Yoongi teased.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you? As if you were going to attack him or something. All you did was stand there and yawn. How was that threatening?” You growled in anger. Looking at you, Yoongi could smell your anger to know that you weren’t joking but he still couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” You glared at him.

“Kitten, you’re the most amusing human I have ever met. I wasn’t even affected by him, I didn’t care. And here you are, getting all angry in the parking lot.” He continued to laugh at you while you scoffed.

“Well, I’m glad my anger amuses you.” You started the car.

“Oh, it does.” He nodded and you threatened to sock him. You began to drive until you reached your destination. After signing in for both and Yoongi, you handed your identification cards over to be scanned and the guard let you through the gates.

“Jinnie.” You knocked on the white door and entered. The moment you entered, you were tackled to the ground, a figure standing over you.

“(y/n)!” The arctic fox hybrid grinned and hugged you. You chuckled, patting his back as Yoongi helped you to stand up.

“Yoongs.” Jin smiled.

“Hey, Jin.” The panther had a small smile on his face as he greeted the male. Jin’s snow white, thick tail wagged in excitement and his pointy white ears also stood up, showing just how excited he was to see you and Yoongi. You reached over to pat his head, rubbing his ear between your fingers.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you. I brought some snacks.” You apologised, showing him the bag of different snacks in there. Jin loved his snacks.

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re here now.” He nuzzled your neck. You still couldn’t help the guilt.

“Stop feeling guilty, (y/n). I know it’s not your fault. You’re busy saving hybrids.” Jin must have been able to smell your emotions. Yoongi sat on Jin’s bed and the fox immediately went to sit with him. Even if Yoongi didn’t express it, he missed Jin as well. His tail was wrapped around the older male’s torso in a protective position.

“How have you been, Jin?” You sat on the chair beside the bed.

“Good. Dr Lee has been taking good care of me.” He smiled. You nodded your head in approval.

You were going to adopt Jin but he didn’t pass the psychiatric assessment. Being a doctor yourself, you knew that Jin would not have been safe for all of you if he went home with you and Yoongi immediately.

After discussing with both of them, Jin agreed to stay in a facility to help him with his anxiety. You had one of your best friends taking care of him.

“Yoongi, I’m going to find Dr Lee. Can you stay here with Jin?” You stood up. Yoongi nodded and you kissed both of them on the head before leaving the room. You found your friend in her office.

“(y/n).” She smiled as she got up and walked to you.

“I didn’t know you were visiting Jin today.” She pulled you in for a hug. You trusted her with everything, especially Jin and his mental health. She was one of the best in the psychiatric care field for hybrids. As she sat back down, you sat opposite her.

“I actually have a surprise for you. I was going to call you but seeing that you’re here. Might as well give it to you.” She chuckled and took something out from her drawer, sliding it across the desk. You opened the file and looked at it.

“W-What?” You gasped as you read. Tears immediately filled your eyes, threatening to spill over.

‘Patient Kim Seokjin Psychiatric assessment: PASSED Comments: Based on the close observations by the care team, Patient Seokjin has shown exceptional recovery and social skills amongst both humans and hybrids. When ready, his owner may check him out of the facility.’

“He’s coming home?” You cried. She nodded, tearing up herself. You both shared another hug. Quickly, you ran to the room but before you could open the door, Yoongi opened it. He had smelt you and your tears as you approached the door. You threw your arms around his neck as he held you in shock. What happened while you were in Dr Lee’s office?

“Kitten?” He held you in worry.

“(y/n)? What’s wrong? I-Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Seokjin panicked with a frown. You pulled away from Yoongi with a smile, wiping your tears with your sleeve.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jinnie.” You assured, still trying to stop your tears.

“Then why are you crying?” Jin tilted his head in confusion.

“Jinnie, are you ready to come home?” You asked with a soft smile. The two hybrids froze in their spots. They looked at each other before turning to look at you.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi spoke first.

“You passed your assessment. You can come home. I can check you out when you’re ready.” Another round of tears came as the two boys hugged you tightly. Yoongi buried his head in your shoulder as Jin cried in your arms. Finally, your home was going to be complete again. Jin constantly chanted ‘I’m going home’ as he sobbed. You could only nod your head in agreement.

“Let’s go home then.” Yoongi squeezed your hand.

The both of you helped Jin pack up his things before heading to Dr Lee’s office again. She had the release papers on her table. Jin hugged her tightly, grateful for her help.

“That was your effort, Jin. I merely gave you the push you needed.” She smiled, patted his back. Jin signed his confirmation paper and you signed all the other release forms, as his legal owner.

“Bye Jin. Take care. I’ll drop by from time to time to see you.” Dr Lee waved and the 3 of you left. Finally, both your boys would be home.

“Let’s celebrate. Burgers?” You suggested as you drove. Jin clapped excitedly while Yoongi had a small smile on his face. You went to a burger joint and sat in a booth seat.

“Welcome home, Jin.” Yoongi held his cup up.

“It feels good to be going home. Thank you for never giving up on me.” Jin followed the other’s actions. You giggled and did the same. The three of you clinked your soda cups and dug in. Hybrids were not allowed to drink outside their homes in the event the alcohol makes them ‘feral’. Not like any of you were heavy drinkers anyway.

“So good.” Jin licked his lips happily.

“Yoongi! Stop stealing my curly fries.” You pouted and Yoongi shoved one tater tot out. With a grin, you leaned down and ate it from your hands.

CRASH!

Jin jumped slightly at the sudden sound coming from the kitchen. You were about to stand up when Yoongi grabbed your wrist, shaking his head as a signal for you not to meddle in other people’s business.

“(y/n), no.” There was yelping and growling from the kitchen, followed by loud shouts. Soon, all the other patrons in the restaurant had stopped eating and everyone’s attention was on the kitchen where the ruckus was coming from. You pushed Yoongi’s grip off you and ran to the kitchen before the boys could stop you again.

“Madam, you need to leave.” The waitress tried to block the entrance way.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“A stray broke into the kitchen. It is not safe.” She explained. From over her shoulder, you saw the chef holding up a knife. Your eyes widened as you pushed passed her and entered the messy kitchen.

“I already told you that if you ever show up here again, you will regret it. I should have punished you last time!” The chef stood over the trembling body on the ground.

“Stop!” You shouted.

“Mind your own business!” The chef barked at you. You ran over and stood over the trembling hybrid, who buried his face in his arms.

“I’m a doctor. He’s not even attacking you and you were trying to kill him.” You held your arms out. The chef saw the other people standing by the door, watching the exchange. His face turned red in embarrassment as he stormed over to you but there was a flash of black and white.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Yoongi growled, flashing his teeth. Jin stood next to him and did the same, both of their tails standing straight in defence.

“Get out of my restaurant!” The chef yelled.

“We weren’t planning on staying anyway.” Jin glared. You turned around and crouched down beside the trembling hybrid. Gently, you placed a hand on his head.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come on, let’s go out.” You spoke softly, not wanting to scare him anymore. He flinched as you made contact with him. Worried the chef might get more violent, Yoongi made the decision to get all 4 of your out there as soon as possible.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just us. We will never hurt you.” You told him once you were outside.

“(y/n)...” Yoongi could sense that the hybrid was not going to open up to you any time soon. He wanted to leave already. You held a hand up to Yoongi to tell him to wait as you tried to approach the hybrid again.

“I know you’re scared. I’m (y/n), a doctor for hybrids. These are both my hybrids.” You said. He stopped and sniffed the air before lifting his head. You finally got a good look at his face. There were a few scratches and bruises on his face.

“Tiger.” Yoongi mumbled from behind you.

“A tiger hybrid? What’s your name? Do you have a home I can bring you to? I understand, you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. But I promise I just want to help you and make sure you’re safe.” You persuaded.

“M-My name is Taehyung. I don’t have a home. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break in. I was just hungry. I haven’t eaten in days. Please believe me, I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” He held your hands in his.

“I believe you, Taehyung. You’re not in trouble.” You smiled.

“Boys?” You turned to them. They knew what you were trying to hint at. Yoongi looked away, refusing to meet your eyes. He knew that just by looking at you, he will give in. Jin cleared his throat, unsure of what he should say. Your home was their territory and yet, they knew what it felt like to be in Taehyung’s position. Without a home, without someone to love them.

“It’s your home, (y/n).” Yoongi said.

“No. It’s both your homes too.” You stood up and faced them. Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you. He cursed. You were trying to be respectful to them and their opinion, not wanting to offend them or force them into something they were uncomfortable with.

“It’s late. Just let him stay the night and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Jin suggested and you nodded, looking over at Yoongi.

“Blame my bad luck for having an owner with such a big heart.” Yoongi wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead. You laughed.

“Taehyung, why don’t you stay with us for a night? I’ll treat your injuries, you can get something to eat, take a shower and rest in a bed. If you want to leave in the morning, you are free to do so.” You offered.

“Really?” He looked at you suspiciously.

“Let’s go already.” Yoongi walked off to the car, pulling you with him. You sat in the driver’s seat, Yoongi in the passenger, Jin and Taehyung in the back.

You pulled up to your house. Thankfully, your parents were kinda of wealthy and with your doctor reputation, you were able to buy a big house. Although, you, Yoongi and Jin only occupied 3 of the rooms for yourself. Yoongi helped Jin with his things while you led Taehyung into the house.

“Yoongi, can you bring Taehyung to the guest room, please?” You requested and Yoongi let out a low growl.

“Come on. Jinnie needs to unpack.” You pleaded and Yoongi rolled his eyes, sitting on the couch instead. Shaking your head, you brought Taehyung to the room, lending some of Jin’s clothes, since Yoongi was the smallest of the 3.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s just shy.” You smiled.

“I understand. This is his nest. His scent is everywhere. I wouldn’t like if a stranger came onto my territory too.” Taehyung said and you patted his head.

“He’s just protective. I’ll see you downstairs.” You left Taehyung to give him some privacy. Heading to the kitchen, you took out some food to cook for the tiger in the shower. A tail began to snake itself up your leg and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Arms wrapped themselves around your waist and a chin rested on your shoulder.

“It’s alright, Yoongi. I don’t blame you.” You reached back to pat his head. He didn’t need to say anything for you to know how he felt.

“Mmm.” He hummed and began rubbing his nose against your neck. Reaching over, he switched the stove off and turned you around so you faced him instead. Jin came down and Yoongi let out a growl, smelling another presence. You held a hand out to stop him, not saying a word.

“I’m going back up.” You heard Jin mumbled and head back upstairs.

Yoongi purred against your neck, continuing to scent you. His tail curled around your thigh and his hands fisted the back of your shirt. You wrapped your arms around him to hold him.

“Mine.” He growled. When he pulled away, you kissed his cheek and turned back to cooking. Yoongi continued to stay by your side.

“Jin, I’m going to my room. Can you give this to Taehyung?” You told the male who had come back down. He nodded his head and you smiled gratefully. With Yoongi’s fresh scent on you, you didn’t want to get too closed to Taehyung and scare him away.

“I-” Taehyung froze in his tracks when he came back down.

“Sorry.” You quickly moved past Taehyung and went to the living room. Yoongi followed behind me, sitting on the couch.

“No showering.” He commanded.

“Why? I need to shower, Yoongs. We’ve been out the whole day.” You chuckled. He growled and pulled me until I crashed against his body, his face pressed against my abdomen.

“You showered when we came back from the hospital. I just scented you. No showering.” He commanded.

“Alright, alright.” You stroked his head, hearing him purr into your stomach. Looking over, Taehyung was wolfing the food down at the kitchen island. Jin watched over him and you softened. Thank God for Jin finally being here. You tapped Yoongi on the head and he finally released you so you could go over to the duo in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I know it’s hard to ignore.” You rubbed the back of your neck, sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, putting a big spoon of rice into his mouth. You smiled and patted his head, turning to Jin. Jin bent down slightly and you rubbed your ears, giggling.

“Sorry your welcome home dinner didn’t really go as planned.” You joked. Jin shook his head and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You and Yoongi were there. That’s more than enough for me.” He confessed and you pinched his cheek.

Once Taehyung was done eating, you sat him down on the couch and began to treat his injuries. Luckily, they were all superficial and didn’t need any stitches. You wiped his cuts and put small band aids over them. Yoongi and Jin stayed by your side, in the event Taehyung does suddenly lash out at you.

“It’s rare for a tiger hybrid to be a stray. Where did you come from, Taehyung?” You asked him.

“I escaped...” He looked down.

“From where?”

“An illegal circus.” He admitted after a few seconds of silence. Yoongi and Jin let out growls at his words. Yoongi was from an illegal fighting ring and Jin was from an illegal exotic pet auction. Even though you were angry, you were glad that the two could empathise with Taehyung and what he had been through, making them a little more accepting.

“How long have you been on the run?” You asked.

“I don’t know... It has been a long while.” He said. You nodded your head. Once again, Taehyung grasped your hands.

“Please don’t report me. I don’t want to go back.” He begged.

“I won’t report you, Taehyung. What they’re doing is illegal and wrong. You’ll never have to go back there again.” You assured him and he let out a sigh of relief, releasing your hands.

“Get some rest. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow morning.” You told him. He nodded and all of you headed upstairs to turn in for the night. Jin slept on your right and Yoongi stayed on your left.

#kpop #kpop series #kpop scenarios #bts #bts series #bts scenarios #bts hybrid series #bts hybrid au #hybrid!au #hybrid bts #bts hybrid #hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts x reader #hybrid x reader #ot7 x reader

2K notes · View notes

fadedflame · 2 years

Text

The Deep Dark Blue Day 8

Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge from @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Summery: Lieutenant Hank Anderson had been a naval officer for years. It was his life, his passion, everything he cared about now. And yet, all it took was one look from the tiny Mer child to make him willing to risk it all.

Day Eight - Maelstrom

Words-602

Chapter Summery: A cozy evening in the cabin.

< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

Ao3 or read below

While they would need to pull into a proper port for a few remaining repairs, for the most part, the ship was good to go. The crew had put their all into it, fixed her up as good as possible while lacking certain materials. Which was definitely a good thing considering the storm brewing outside. It looked like it was going to be a rough one, sure to test their craftsmanship.

Hank was really just happy to have his cabin back at this point. He was fond of his fellow crewmen, but honestly, he needed some time to himself now and then.

A happy gurgle came from his cot, and he smiled. Almost by himself, that is.

It hadn’t even been a discussion that Connor would bunk with Hank. The kid was his responsibility and he would have fought anyone who suggested differently. So his space had effectively become their space. And he was loving it.

“How you doing over there, kiddo?” He asked the little boy.

Connor responded with a cheerful stream of incoherent babble peppered with a couple declarations of “dada!”

Hank set down the tablet he was working on and wandered over to the cot. Fuck work, he had a baby to entertain. Connor’s little hands clapped in glee as soon as he came close. “I see someone’s done with his nap,” he laughed, sitting next to him and lightly tickling his tummy.

Connor chattered and giggled, then kicked his feet and wiggled his arms until he had managed to flip himself over, protecting his sensitive belly from Hank's offending fingers. He was impressed enough at that, not having believed him to be old enough to accomplish the simple task, but once the little boy was on his front he began crawling to get closer and settle into Hank’s lap.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he mused, helping the kid up over his legs to get him properly situated. “Since when can you crawl?”

“Dada,” he just said again with another giggle before cuddling close, curled up like a kitten.

God, he loved this kid. How the hell was he just supposed to let him go? What would be so wrong with keeping him? It wasn’t like they would be able to find whatever family he’d originally had. Why couldn’t he keep being dada?

Hank would have been content to spend the rest of the evening like that. Seated comfortably on his cot, Connor snuggled up to him, the soft jazz he had put on to lull him to sleep still playing in the background, it was perfect.

Until the first crack of lightning spit the sky.

Connor was alert in an instant, shrinking in fear before bursting into tears.

“Oh, Connor, baby,” Hank cooed, picking him up and trying to calm him. “It’s just a storm, it’s ok.”

Another boom resounded as though countering his claim. The ship rocked as the wind beat against it and metal creaked ominously under the strain. The sound set Hank unreasonably on edge, not that he would let Connor see that. He knew it would take more than this to sink his ship. But, paranoia was a bitch.

Connor cried louder, competing in volume and intensity with the storm.

Hank stood, rocking and bouncing the distraught infant. “Connor, Connor, it’s ok, son. It’s not so bad, I promise. We’re safe, the ship can take a hell of a lot more than this.”

Connor was not at all impressed by Hank’s assessment of the Cutlass’s craftsmanship. He just continued to cry and wail, inconsolable no matter what he tried. Outside the maelstrom raged on.

#dbh hank #dbh connor #detroit become human #dbh prompt challenge #hank anderson #dbh fanfic #dbhthedeepdarkblue

4 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

After Class

Pairing: Professor Barnes x reader x Professor Blackwood (it’s a Professor party!)

Word Count: 1,135

Summary: The new semester starts and your first class is one you’re very excited about, turns out you have more than one reason to be.

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club continuation of drunk drabbles and the amazing prompt below sent in by the lovely @buckstaybucky This was way to fun and I just could write about these two ALL DAY FOREVER! I hope you like this and thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: flirting, teasing, implied smut...

You stand outside the door and try to catch your breath, silently berating yourself for being late to the very first meeting of what you hoped would be your favorite senior seminar, Renaissance Literature. It was already 10 minutes past the start time, and you cringe when the door creaks loudly with your arrival. The classroom was small, only about 10 other students present, all their eyes turning your way when you enter.

With an audible swallow you look down at your feet and shuffle toward a desk in the front corner. The sound of a throat clearing gets your attention and you’re met with two pairs of piercing blue eyes, the men they belong to akin to something straight out of a fantasy. “And you must be miss y/l/n?” You focus your gaze on the professor who spoke, his hands on his hips and a slight furrow to his brow as he looks you over.

“Yes, sorry I’m late professor,” you say quietly, sitting at the desk. He completely ignores your apology and runs his fingers down the length of his tie. “I’m Professor Blackwood and this is my colleague Professor Barnes. We’ll be teaching your seminar this semester.” You nod and force a smile, your interest quickly drawn away when Professor Barnes speaks. “And we don’t tolerate tardiness. Don’t let it happen again.”

Nibbling on the corner of your finger you straighten your shoulders, “yes sir.” He seems more than satisfied with that answer, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly as he fixes his glasses. “Very good. Now, where were we?” The rest of the class goes by painstakingly slow, but not because it’s boring. Oh no, far from it. They are engaging and energetic and have a clear love for what they teach, but you can’t focus on any of it, your mind consumed with lewd thoughts about them.

You anxiously tap your pen to the keyboard of your laptop and your foot is bouncing on the bar of the small desk repeatedly. Professor Blackwood walks by, running his hand through his thick caramel hair before casually taking the pencil from between your fingers. He slides it behind his ear and gives you a wink. Your mouth hangs open, your head turning to follow his path down the row. A silky voice draws your back to the front and Professor Barnes is leaning over your desk. “You seem tense y/n. Everything ok?”

Without a care you let your eyes wander over the sharp lines of his jaw and the light peppering of stubble that coats it, the grays that are mixed in making your fingers ache to touch it. “I um, I’m just trying to keep up.” Dragging your eyes back to his you hear Professor Blackwood speak from the back of the room, but it’s muffled through the rush of blood to your ears. “Time to find a group darling.” He moves away from your desk so you can get up and you make your way toward the two left over students, shaking your head to clear it.

You finish up your group work as the class winds down and go to gather your belongings at your desk. Professor Blackwood walks up next you and holds out the pencil, “I believe this is yours.” Giving him a meek smile, you take the other end and pull, except he doesn’t let go, causing confusion to wash over your features. “What do you say?” Professor Barnes walks over, and your mind goes blank. “I think he’s waiting for a thank you.” You let out a nervous chuckle, “thank you Professor.” He still doesn’t let go.

With your heart hammering in your chest you give the pencil another tug, this time bringing his face closer to yours. “Try again sweetheart.” Having his plump and perfect lips just a few inches away has you searching for your voice, finally managing a soft, “thank you. Sir.” Professor Barnes looks to his colleague, “I told you.” Professor Blackwood runs his tongue over his bottom lip, clearly assessing you. “You’re right Barnes, it sounds luscious coming out of that pretty mouth.”

He let’s go of the pencil and you nearly fall back into the seat of your desk, your eyes scanning the room to see that everyone else has already left. Long fingers grasp your chin and turn your head, “it’s just us doll.” Professor Barnes takes off his glasses and hangs them from his sweater. “Now, you were late to our class, and we need to discuss why. Meet us in our office in 10 minutes.” With that the two men take their papers and head out, Professor Blackwood calling over his shoulder, “don’t be tardy.”

Checking your phone, you throw your belongings into the bag and run out, hoping to grab some water beforehand. You manage to make it there early, pacing outside the office and looking at your phone every 20 seconds. The door opens at exactly 4:30pm and Professor Blackwood waits on the other side, motioning for you to enter.

You see Professor Barnes seated on the couch at the other end of the room, his appearance relaxed but his clenched jaw telling you he is anything but. You spin on your heel when the door slams, coming face to face with Professor Blackwood. “Right on time. Very good.” His suit jacket is gone, and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, your hands twitching at your sides, once again longing to reach out.

Professor Barnes pats his thigh and spreads his legs wide, “come over here and have a seat.” You place your things down on the desk and slowly walk over, shyly looking over your shoulder at Professor Blackwood. “Go on kitten.” You stand between his legs and sit down, unsure about what to do with your hands so you clasp them in your lap. Professor Barnes leans forward and brings his lips to your ear, “so tell us why you were late.”

Wringing your hands together and searching for an excuse you come up with nothing, looking between the two men while you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Professor Blackwood moves to stand in front of you, running his thumb over the swollen flesh and pulling it from your mouth. “No need to worry, we know just how you can make it up to us.”

Shifting on Professor Barnes’ lap you hold back a moan when you feel the flex of his thigh muscle beneath your ass. His hand settles on small of your back, rubbing small circles over the fabric of your shirt. “I hope you’re better at following directions than you are at being on time,” Professor Blackwood purrs before resting against the edge of the desk and undoing his belt.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @bugsbucky @buckstaybucky @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @breezy1415 @bucky-on-my-mind @book-dragon-13 @buckys-henley @buckosawrus @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @ikaris-whore @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @lokilvrr @lorilane33 @mushyjellybeans @addikted-2-dopamine @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot @this-kitten-is-smitten @yansi1923 @emilylyoness @scarletsoldierrr @hopefuldreamers-world

206 notes · View notes

shiversdownyerspine · 3 years

Text

9. Closer

Just gonna sliiiiide this over here.

You are finishing up the last of the scramble on your plate, fighting off the lingering fuzzy embrace of sleep with the help of your coffee. So the suspense wouldn't kill you, you had asked Axel if their coming questions had to do with your ability. After all, the three hadn't asked all that much about it.

Axel confirms, and you ruminate over the approaching task, how best to handle it...but are distracted when Oscar and Otto return.

The younger brothers look scratched up and dirtied, but overall in good condition. Although it was kind of difficult to tell who looked worse...maybe Otto. Poor man was still in his long johns.

Grinning, you tease, "You two alright? Both of you look like you dove headfirst into the blackberry brambles."

Axel snorts. You're not far from the truth.

He subtly signals the two with a pointed dip of his head in warning; their feet are filthy and they are about to track a mess into your kitchen. Sheepish, the younger brothers share a look and head back outside, probably to make good use of your garden hose.

Not wanting to put it off any longer, you ask for a change in scenery for this interrogation once you are dressed. In the garden, specifically. Axel regards you curiously, but agrees to your request.

You wander over to the sink to rinse your dishes when he taunts, "Thinking of running? We will catch you. No contest."

You blink, "No no, no running. I'm just...eager? To get started? Or maybe to get finished..."

Throwing a look over your shoulder, you return the taunt, "But if I did run, and I made it into the forest? I think I could surprise you."

Indeed, you are a good deal faster and more reactive while in your Phase. At least when you're prepared. It certainly helps having nearly all of your senses improved, but playing hide and seek with three trained assassins? It would be difficult to say the least...but in your forest and lake? Your second home?

You would have an advantage, even being technically untrained. Perhaps you could give them a run for their money...at least for a little while longer than if you had tried in the tight spaces of your cottage.

Speculation and theorizing is cut short when the lone man in your kitchen says quite matter-of-factly, "Otto caught you."

Pride ruffled, you can't help but bristle, "Okay. That? Was a series of unfortunate events. And in my defense? I didn't have anything to run from, nothing was threatening me. It was just a spider bite."

The eldest doesn't reply, just quirks an amused eyebrow at the memory of you, perturbed and fluffed, wrapped up in his puzzled brother's arms. It was...an interesting day, no doubt.

You fiddle with your wet plate, frowning.

"I was distracted with my lack of gloves, that I had let something so simple slip my notice. Dug my own grave in a matter of seconds. Then I heard the door, and there was Otto and...I froze. He lunged and I couldn't move."

Axel contemplates for a moment, "You wanted to run. Not attack."

He says as a statement what should have been a question, never one to be all that subtle with his demands. You feel your stomach drop a little; given the pieces of your revealed history, maybe he was now beginning to reconsider the threat you could have posed to Otto. To all of them.

Acknowledging his concern was easy, but explaining yourself was going to be a bit complicated.

"I..I think I have an answer for that? But it's something I'd like to address with all of you. I'm going to get dressed first, I've been in pajamas for far too long."

You know he could simply repeat what you said to his siblings, but it was the principle of the thing. That and you really wanted to take a quick moment to yourself before this all goes down. He doesn't stop you.

Toweling your hands dry, you head for the couch to gather up your sleeping kittens and make your way to your bedroom. Axel returns his attention to his brothers who were currently fussing over the hose; Oscar was currently trying to convince Otto to look inside and see what was blocking the water, all the while he held a section kinked in his hand, waiting for the right moment.

The eldest sibling shakes his head.

Butternut and Pumpkin are curled at opposite ends of your bed; one buried in the pillows at the headboard, the other stretched out dramatically at the end. Both chirp a greeting as you open your door and step inside.

Thing 1 and 2 in hand, you deposit the wiggly babies into their 'room'. The two look at you with what you can imagine is disapproval, breaking your heart as they toddle towards the bathroom door with noisy complaint.

"Don't worry, you'll be let out again soon."

Their litter box training had been going swimmingly. Maybe it was about time to expand their territory? You think it'd go rather well, you'd just have to keep an eye out. Make sure they don't try to leave any little surprises for you and develop a nasty habit from it.

You swear their incessant meowing is growing louder. You sigh, shaking your head.

"The book was spot on when it called this breed talkative."

Taking advantage of the lingering warmth of your sleep with Otto, you decide upon a floral tunic dress with leggings instead of your usual chunky sweater and jeans. It's rare that you can wear a lighter ensemble like this, you'll have to find some way to thank Otto.

He does seem to really enjoy your baking, so maybe something in that vein.

As you dress you find your thoughts sombering as the previous conversation slowly ties you into a knot. You try to reassure yourself and soothe your nerves; you wouldn't have lashed out for no reason, wouldn't have killed them in cold blood. You have control. Besides, you're not a violent person. Surely they know that?

That fateful morning, if Otto had reacted with violence towards you, you would have defended yourself to the best of your ability and removed yourself from the situation once the opportunity presented itself. There had to have been a way around him, around his brothers, right?

If Axel had decided you were too much of an unknown threat and had shot, you would have feigned death until you could slip outside and decide on the next step. You're fairly confident you could play dead and pretend well enough, despite the pain. The blue-clad man wouldn't have just emptied his entire clip into you, right?

If you were being realistic, you were only considering the best case scenarios for you and the brothers if things had played out a bit...differently. Because if you thought too long about the worst outcome, your heart would squeeze unbearably tight in your chest and your eyes would water uncontrollably.

You didn't want to think about what you would have done if the three had subjected you to too much injury and triggered your second Phase.

There was no denying it, you were incredibly fond of the three.

Maybe even a bit...smitten?

At the errant thought you slap your burning cheeks with your palms, fighting against the helpless fluttering sensation of the heated butterflies in your stomach. Not the time.

...Wait, does that mean there will be a time?

Focus.

Focus, focus, focus.

With a steadying breath, you head back out into the kitchen. There's something you need to grab first.

"One last thing..."

Axel watches curiously as you pop open a kitchen drawer and rummage around its contents for an item you have stashed away.

"Here we go."

You find what you are looking for wrapped in a familiar kitchen towel; an old paring knife, kept clean and disinfected. You unwrap it a bit, just to check on the condition of the blade as the light glints off the metal.

A minor laceration from this would be just what you needed to keep you in your Phase long enough to hopefully answer all their questions.

You weren't sure you could count primarily on verbally explaining all the aspects of your ability. Some things you had nothing to compare with, not to mention how tongue-tied you were before. You're not all that confident when talking about your ability, as discussing it is still incredibly new to you. Demonstration could be a good approach, all things considered.

As you turn from the counter, a rough hand grips your wrist and pulls your arm up, leaving you to sway unsteadily nearly on tip toe. In your personal space, you can feel the warmth of him without needing to touch. It feels like if you could steal a speck of body heat from one of these men, you'd never feel the cold again.

Axel stares you down, lips pulled into a tight scowl, frowning with familiar furrowed brow.

Oh.

Probably not a good idea to bring out a knife without context, especially around an assassin. Maybe next time explain first.

"...Sooo...um. I can't...will my ability to activate. I-it's a defense mechanism, remember? It needs something to trigger it."

His face is worryingly expressionless as he looks to the knife in your hand. With deft fingers, he plucks the tool from your grasp, leaving you with the empty towel as he slips it into his pocket without a word.

Did he seriously just...

"...Really?"

The audacity.

Radiating cool smugness, Axel strolls to the screen door and looks pointedly at you. Waiting.

You don't budge.

Turning your attention to your knife block set, you hum, "You know I could just grab one of these, right?"

You assess the assortment, paying less attention to the man now stalking back to you.

"Although I'd much rather these be used for cooking, but what choice do I have? Apparently you have your heart set on being a mother hen-"

Your tirade is cut short as Axel's hands grip your waist to turn you to face him. He bends, curls an arm around your legs, and hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dumbfounded and indignant, your lips part for some sort of reprimand to leave your tongue. But you stumble over the words.

With an arm across the backs of your thighs to lock your legs in place and keep you steady, he walks completely unburdened once more to the screen door. You brace your hands on his back, feeling muscle shift underneath the material of his white Henley with each step. Well, needless to say, you can't really think of a retort at the moment. Hopefully your dress isn't riding up too much.

You can't help but wonder; is it just your imagination, or are the brothers getting a bit more...grabby with you? But more importantly, you cannot let this man have the last 'word'.

Fighting down the butterflies that have returned with a vengeance, you grumble, "Don't complain if I can't give you all some clear answers without my knife."

The large palm loosely holding your thigh gives a squeeze, followed by Axel throwing a comment over his shoulder to you, "We'll see."

Well now. Axel is honest to god mother-henning you. This was...unexpected? Infuriating? Kind of sweet?

...Oh yes. They're most definitely getting more grabby with you.

#the swedes #ikea mafia #tua swedes #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy swedes #tua axel #tua otto #tua oscar #axel x reader #otto x reader #oscar x reader #Reader is starting to figure out her feeeeelings

42 notes · View notes

blackbirdos · 3 years

Text

It is almost cold on the balcony when Kutkha steps outside, and, as usual, the stars cannot be seen well through the thickness of the light pollution. He should be asleep, but the city is not, and there are probably a hundred other people just like him creeping outside for some air, to quell their churning thoughts. Kutkha inhales a shaky breath then moves over to the railing, stooping so that he can lean his elbows on it and look down into the dark street below. He likes the cold in a way he can’t explain. Before Earth, Kutkha had never shivered from a chill or sweat from the heat of the sun. Therefore, the temperature is unfamiliar to him, but unfamiliarity makes Kutkha feel the most like himself, devoid of the perfect prison he was born in. Difficult to explain, but nonetheless, truth.

Kutkha finally exhales. The feeling of it does not alleviate the weight in his chest, nothing has for a long while, but he can distract himself by watching lonely figures pass along the sidewalk far beneath him. The street lights cast them in long, cartoonish shadows, and they come and go, drifting off to their homes or work or lives. Kutkha does not know. Sometimes when he is out here, he likes to guess what their lives might be like, what his life could have been like if he was just like them.

Would he be happier if he had been born here? If he did not know what he knows?

He does not know.

Kutkha shifts and the railing creaks beneath him, then he stands up, drumming his fingers off the painted wood. What would a human do if up late with a restless mind? Perhaps play a game, watch a show, read, but nothing has been able to distract Kutkha from the ache in his chest, the need to move. He has tried everything else already; sometimes it is easier to just give in.

And so, he thinks.

His mind wanders first to the smell of old paper and bad coffee -- though all coffee is bad in Kuthka’s silent opinion. Logan is sitting across the table from him and frowning down at a journal that he’s referred to several times as ‘bullshit’, but has continued to read. It is endearing. It is also not the first time Kutkha has decided to step out of his metaphorical shell to spend time with Logan. The both of them come from vastly different lives, but they mesh well together in private, as both of them find silence companionable.

It is nice, Kutkha had thought at the time and thus thinks now upon reminiscing, and it is fulfilling to be a part of someone’s peace. He thinks of Logan’s struggles, of his journey to fit into this strange, unforgiving life, and relates to it immensely, but the two of them never speak of it.

There is no need to. Instead, Kutkha flips the page in his book and frowns at a diagram. They, after a while, talk about the finality of dust. To start as the leftovers of dying stars, to end, someday, the same.

Kutkha shuffles from foot to foot, drawn out of his memory by the honking of an impatient car down on the street far below. He turns to his dark apartment, intending to return inside and maybe… sit downstairs and read something, but he stops in distraction. He is wrong about his earlier assessment: the sky is especially clear tonight and he can see more stars than usual, though it is nothing like when he’d gone camping. The barest, ghost of a twinkle stands out of the clear, grey-blue sky. He is drawn to them in a way he is drawn to nothing else.

He steps up to the metal ladder that leads to the roof, climbs it gingerly, and stands with his eyes to the moon. Perhaps he could have simply teleported to the spot, but there was something inexplicably attractive to physical exertion, to the feeling of getting something done and feeling his muscles work in his body. He can feel the blood in his fingers, rushing along, and it is enough to remind him that he is indeed alive and standing there.

On the roof, the city yawns open before him. He walks to the opposite edge, watching out across dark buildings, and distantly the glitter of water in the bay. There is a breeze that ruffles his hair and he closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling that maybe it could blow him across the stretch of lights, across the sea, somewhere else.

Instead, he thinks of another time.

Emmett’s house smells like some unknown dessert as Kutkha steps inside, gingerly kicking off his shoes by the door as he had a dozen times before. Today, they will be building a model garage for the model house that had been in the works, and Kutkha’s fingers itched for the complicated embroidery that Emmett had promised. Kutkha bends to say hello to the little dogs that run up and greet him, but when he looks up, he notices another person coming to say hello alongside Emmett.

Oh, it’s Gardner. Kutkha feels strange about him in a way he can’t place, but not negatively. Kutkha vaguely recalls Emmett mentioning his presence days before, and Kutkha is happy to make room for someone a little new. He tells himself perhaps the strangeness is just a form of unfamiliarity, though Kutkha knows it is not.

He remembers what Gardner said about himself some time ago, plain and bare, and Kutkha understands intimately. To be a part of something huge and fearsome, to play a role bigger than yourself, not precisely knowing the consequences until it’s too late. Kutkha watches Gardner struggle to paint adhesive to the back of a small piece of wood for a tool cabinet and feels safe, here, despite the hesitance of others. It is a small normalcy that ends too soon.

The chill of the night time finally gets to Kutkha, just a little, and he finds that he’s tucked his bone-white fingers in his underarms for a modicum of warmth. It does not help much. It is just a distraction from a distraction. It’s now long past the time of just catching fresh air and Kutkha should go inside, maybe make some tea or, if truly despondent, put on a coat and go for a walk. He could see some of the kittens in the alleyway that have been too skittish to coax out from under the dumpster -- maybe this time one of them will take the step and accept the gentle offer of cheese.

Instead, Kutkha exhales, watching the steam roll off his lips. Breathing is second nature, as it is with most residents of this planet, but Kutkha finds that when he holds his breath, the sharp pang of need hardly comes. He does not know what to make of it, the idea that his habits are only learned and he keeps them only for comfort.

Still, inside of him is warmth somewhere like with anyone, as told by the steam.

Another memory flits through Kutkha’s mind, one that is shorter and more precious all the same. He and Amin are entertaining Alex for the evening, and Amin has run upstairs to take a phonecall. Alex is visibility enamored by the click-clack of Amin’s paws on the steps as he disappears from view.

“So, what have you been up to? I feel like we’ve barely talked even though we’re always in each other’s space,” Alex asks him after a beat of silence.

“I don’t know,” Kutkha answers. He looks at Alex who is looking at him oddly, like Kutkha is some kind of question he can’t figure out. Alex has big, bright eyes that give away every emotion. The next words slip out of Kutkha on accident, “Biding my time, mostly.” “Biding your time? What does that mean?” Alex asks immediately. He always speaks faster than his brain can comprehend words. “Hey, you know, I feel like you used to talk a lot more when I came over. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Kutkha replies after a beat. His mind is spinning from his strange admission. The question is so simple and so complicated all at once. “My mind has been racing all the time. Things are… okay, though. Thank you for asking. How have you been?”

Miraculously Alex drops it. Maybe he understands how it feels to be afraid to answer a truth you aren’t ready for.

In hindsight, Kutkha should have said more when someone had given him the opportunity, when he didn’t have to hide behind a veneer of shame that he was not entirely grateful he was here. The time is passed. He no longer has the energy to explain to himself or others how he feels about his place in the universe.

There is order and chaos, space and time, and he is none of them. He has seen countless histories unfold and snuff out like the wick of a candle on its own wax. He hates knowing. He wishes that he could just --

A sharp inhale and Kutkha shakes his head.

He remembers Lilius. He remembers the small victories, of Wil giving Charlie a big hug, or the rebels crying and singing in celebration before Kutkha is strong enough to bring them home. He remembers how everyone meshes together, how bonds are formed, how much he has struggled to be normal, to stand all of this.

He thinks of everyone coming home and finding a place within each other. He knows they are all grateful of Kutkha’s ability to have brought them there. He knows he is loved and wanted, that he has people to rely on, that he has a home, but he cannot escape the fact that he does not belong here.

He does not belong here.

The thought hits him like a brick. He bares his teeth.

Another memory, and he is laying in bed next to Amin midday during a rainstorm. Amin is half-dressed and asleep, the front of his chest gently brushing against Kutkha’s shoulder blades whenever he breathes. Everytime they touch, Kutkha is jolted with teases of memory, of Amin’s family, his parents, his siblings, various other things that only made sense to a dreamer. A room full of kucing sharing a traditional meal from their planet, only now crucial ingredients replaced with similar Earthen ones, and eaten on paper plates with plastic forks instead of carved ghilka wood.

It is all Amin knows, but Kutkha has seen the alternative. He has never spoken of it and Amin has never asked, but Kutkha has heard the ringing dialogue of an ilmir king and the striking of stone upon flesh. He has heard the rattling magic in the bones of the planet, the sprawling jungles and cities and deserts. He has seen what Amin will never get to see, what he was supposed to have, what he could have if it wasn’t for Kutkha and the purpose he was born into.

Kutkha lies still, unable to move. All he can think about is that it is a burden to know. He does not want to know, but he cannot forget.

It is a long time before Kutkha moves from the cold, empty roof back down onto the balcony and into the apartment as quietly as a ghost. The gray-blue darkness around him is tinged with the faint pink of morning and he has again not rested as he has not rested in days. He kicks off his shoes, hangs up one of the sweaters he’d borrowed off of Amin’s nightstand and glances back towards the sliding glass doorway he had shut on the way in.

He sees himself as glassy and transparent, a dark shape, superimposed over the outside world. A figment of something not really here.

Something that doesn’t belong, but something that has nothing else to do but stay.

#standalone #writing #kutkha #unfortunately ur character might be mentioned in here! fucked up

9 notes · View notes

actress4him · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 - Day 28

This one has a little bit of similarity to yesterday's, but I like it much better. Also, it's been several days since I was really mean to you guys, so...check that "ambiguous ending" warning. I mean, it really leans more toward "bad ending" than anything else, but you are free to imagine a happy one if you'd like.

Read on AO3

Read on FFN

Day 28 - Accidents

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: similarities to car/plane crash, blood, broken bones, impalement, talk of death, self-sacrifice, ambiguous ending

The first thing that Keith noticed as his awareness trickled back in was that the artificial gravity inside Red’s cockpit wasn’t working. Or at least, that’s what he assumed, since one side of his body felt curiously heavy, like he was dangling in midair.

The second thing was the silence, broken only by a consistent drip, drip, drip.

The third thing was pain.

He couldn’t really pinpoint it to one particular spot, it just hurt, all over. He also couldn’t remember anything that had happened in between the battle that they had been fighting against a Galra fleet, and waking up. Something must have happened. Probably something bad, considering the amount of pain he was in.

Prying open his eyes - well, one of his eyes, anyway, the other seemed to be stuck shut - he found himself looking at a darkened windscreen. The whole cockpit was dark, in fact. Nothing lit up on the dash, no warm red overhead light, no alarms…

Alarms. Suddenly a memory stabbed through him, of alarms wailing and sensors flashing frantically, of himself pushing multiple buttons, hoping for some kind of miracle, while simultaneously pulling back on the controls as hard as he could and watching an unknown planet come spiraling toward him at full speed…

He gasped as the dark, still cockpit came back into focus, causing a wave of pain through his torso. Right. No idea still what had happened to make him and Red lose control, but they had definitely crashed. First things first, then, he needed to check on her and see if she was responding at all.

“Red.” His voice sounded awful. Some kind of liquid had pooled in the back of his throat, and he was forced to cough it out before he could continue. Fire spread through his body as it was jolted. “Red, you there? Can you hear me at all?”

Holding still and closing his eye, he waited for her familiar warmth to brush up against his mind, reassuring him that she would be alright after a little bit of rest. But it didn’t come. Instead, he thought he might have felt the tiniest little nudge, much more like a sickly kitten than a proud lion. Just enough to say, “I’m still here,” but also enough to tell him that she was in really bad shape.

Keith opened his eye again, lifting a stiff, sore arm to wipe at the sticky substance that was still keeping the other one glued shut. It burned when he tried to blink it open, and after hissing in a breath, he ended up just keeping it closed.

Now that he was a bit more awake, he could take in just how bad Red’s state really was. The whole front of the cockpit was crumpled. He didn’t even know it was possible for the Lions to take that kind of damage.

“Oh, Red,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, girl. I’m sorry.”

There was no response that time.

Gathering his courage, Keith started the process of assessing his own situation. First of all, he was still seated in the pilot’s chair, hanging sideways like he had surmised at the beginning, which meant that Red had landed on her side - probably after initially crashing headfirst, based on the way she was crushed. The position was far from comfortable, putting strain on his neck and back.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to remedy that, because the completely obliterated dashboard was sitting on his lap, pinning him in place. The simultaneous good news and bad news was that he couldn’t feel anything from that point down.

The stuff he had scrubbed off his eye was blood. It was also what was making that dripping noise, as it rolled down from some unknown point on his head, across his eye, down to his temple, then dropped to the wall that was now the floor with a wet plop. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to attempt to see how big the puddle down there was. As for the wound itself, his best guess was that a piece of shrapnel had managed to fly up under his partial faceplate and leave a cut. With his whole head throbbing, it was hard to tell anything for sure.

His left arm was broken. Or at least, that was the diagnosis he was going with after he attempted to move it and ended up screaming. All he could really tell from looking at it was that it was not the shape it should be, and he decided right away that he was just going to keep it right where it was, dangling awkwardly off the side of the chair or not.

He didn’t want to look at his stomach. It had been gradually establishing itself as the most intense of all the pains, and he knew it was going to be bad way before he looked at it. But he had to. He needed to know what he was dealing with, if any of this was going to be survivable or not. Steeling himself, he looked down.

It was bad. Like, even worse than he thought it was going to be bad. There was a huge piece of metal, coated in his blood, sticking out of his stomach. For an eternally long moment, Keith just stared at it, trying to wrap his brain around it.

Okay. Right. So, he’d been impaled. That was a lot of blood. A whole lot more than was coming out of his head, that was for sure. He was pretty sure that it was going all the way through his body and pinning him to the chair, like those butterfly specimens that one of his teachers used to keep on display. He was also pretty sure that it had missed his spine, though that could definitely change if he moved around any.

It had not, however, missed vital organs. There was no way it hadn’t cut through at least a couple. That bitter tasting liquid from before bubbled up in the back of his throat again, as if to confirm it, as if to say, “Yep, Keith, you’re definitely dying!” Coughing it out jiggled the metal inside of him and made him whine.

So, yeah. He was dying. That was a thing. Even if the other Paladins could find him and get to him, they probably wouldn’t be quick enough, not with the way he was losing blood.

It didn’t really surprise him. Death had followed Keith around for most of his life, hiding in the shadows, waiting for it to be his turn to go like so many others had. Besides, now he was in the middle of a ten thousand year old war. Death happened all around him, every day. He knew it would be his turn sooner or later. And the sooner part wasn’t surprising, either, given how reckless he knew he could be.

Like you know, jumping out in front of a zaiforge cannon to keep it from hitting Lance. He was pretty sure now that that’s what had happened.

He also had always figured that he would die alone, and that’s pretty much how he was. Though...maybe there was a chance that he didn’t have to be.

“Red. If you’re...if you’re running any kind of systems right now...any repairs you’re trying to make, or anything...divert that power to comms. I know...I know you need help. I promise, you’ll get it. The team’ll find you, and Pidge and Hunk will be able to fix you right up. I promise. You...you’ll be okay. They’ll make sure you go on to fly another day. But...for now...I really, really need this. If you can.”

He still didn’t feel anything from her, but a moment later static began crackling in his ears. Keith gave a tired smile. “Good kitty.”

It took a few seconds for the static to clear up, but he could soon hear the familiar shouts of a battle. At first he just shut his eyes and listened, letting his teammates' voices wash over him. When there was a lull, he cleared his throat. “Guys? Can you hear me?”

“Keith?”

“Keith!”

“Keith, is that you?”

“Holy quiznak, you’re alive!”

“You idiota quiznaking estúpido -!”

He winced at the volume that pierced through his aching head, but was quick to jump back into the conversation. “Hey, yeah, I’m here. It’s me.”

“Oh, thank the Ancestors, Keith, we were so afraid of what had happened to you when we saw the Red Lion go down and you failed to respond!”

“Por qué? Why did you flippin’ jump out in front of me, idiota? What were you trying to prove, huh?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t...wasn’t trying to prove anything, I just...I saw the cannon, I saw you...I didn’t really think, I just...acted.”

“Yeah, that...seems to be a thing with you,” Pidge quipped. “Hunk, on your six!”

“Keith. What happened? Where are you?”

Leave it to Shiro to finally cut to the chase. “Red and I crashed. Not sure where. She’s gone dark, I can’t see anything outside.”

“Number Four, when you say the Red Lion has ‘gone dark’...what extent of damage are we talking about here?”

Keith grimaced. “It’s bad. I can barely feel her. The only reason my comm is working is because I asked her to divert whatever power she had left to it.” Yikes, he maybe shouldn’t have admitted that part. “Her front’s all busted up. No telling what kind of hits she took everywhere else.”

“So, you can’t like, get out and look at where you are?” Lance asked.

“Pidge, you’ve got two fighters coming your way. Keith, he’s right, if we could get a location on you we can come pick you up whenever we get the chance.”

“Uh, yeah. About that, it’s, uh…” To tell the truth, or not? Now was the time to decide. “I’m kinda...pinned. When I said Red’s front was busted up, I...the dash is...yeah.”

The silence only lasted a few ticks. “That sounds bad, that’s like, really bad, isn’t it? What does that mean, anyway, you’re pinned?”

“Hunk, less worrying, more shooting!”

“How bad is it, Keith? What are your other injuries?”

Because of course Shiro would automatically assume there are other injuries. Another chance to choose whether to tell the truth.. “Well, um...it’s not...great, um…”

“Not great? What...what does that mean?” Hunk was still apparently doing just as much worrying as shooting, the poor guy. And Keith would have attempted to answer him, but he was a little busy trying to breathe through a sudden rush of pain through his middle that made all the noises sound more like high-pitched whines for a minute.

When his hearing returned to normal and he could kind of breathe again, he was being bombarded with frantic voices all trying to get him to respond. “I’m here,” he croaked. “Sorry. I was...just…”

“Pidge, there’s absolutely no way you can get a location?”

“Not while she’s powered down. If he could get her to divert power from the comms to her tracker for a minute -”

“No!” That came out far too forcefully, and it hurt like heck, but he couldn’t lose his connection to the team, he couldn’t. If he cut the comms he might never get them back, and...and he’d die alone, in silence. “No, it’s...you don’t need to do that. I’m okay. You’re already down one Lion, you can’t afford to lose any more for a rescue right now. Just focus on your battle.”

No one spoke for a minute, other than calling out the occasional warning or fight maneuver. Keith knew they were realizing that what he said was true, and he was glad. He was already starting to get lightheaded and have a hard time breathing. If they sent someone after him, it would be for nothing, and they might lose the fight, or worse, lose another paladin.

“Talk to me, Keith. You still haven’t told me what your other injuries are.”

Closing his eyes, he drew in a stuttering breath. “Yeah, well...don’t wanna make Hunk queasy while he’s fighting.”

“Keith…”

“It’ll be okay, Shiro. Don’t worry about me. I just…” Wanted some company. “..didn’t want…” To be lonely. “...to miss out when you beat these guys.” The last victory he’d be a part of, even if he had let them down for the majority of the battle.

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have jumped out in front of a zaiforge cannon! Which I have now destroyed, by the way, de nada.”

Keith grunted a laugh, wincing when it pulled at his stomach wound. “Well if I hadn’t, then it’d be you down here.” And he could handle the thought of himself dying a lot better than any of them. “So de nada, yourself.”

Lance was shooting something back, as usual, always ready with a retort, but Keith’s hearing was fading in and out with his vision. A wave of dizziness came over him, and he let out a quiet groan.

“-ith?”

“Still here.” Even he could tell that his voice was much weaker than before.

“Stay with us, buddy. Try not to fall asleep.”

“M’kay. Gonna try. Kinda...losin’ some blood here, so…”

Someone who he was pretty sure was Pidge swore loudly. “We need to find him.”

“Nope. Don’t...don’t need to find me. Need to fight. Stop worrying about me.”

“You’re gonna have to get over it, we’re going to worry about you!” Pidge practically shouted. “You call us and tell us you’ve crashed your Lion and are pinned in your seat and bleeding and you keep randomly switching from talking to moaning and you think we’re not gonna worry about you?”

Guilt threaded its way into his chest. He shouldn’t have called. He was distracting them, he could get them killed. Besides the fact that he was making this way harder on them than it needed to be, making them listen to him as he struggled through his last moments.

“‘m sorry. I shouldn’t have...I’ll just go. You guys need...to focus.”

“Keith, no!”

“No! No no no, don’t go, you’re good, okay? We’re focused. You don’t worry about us, okay? You just concentrate on staying awake, and we’ll concentrate on fighting, and we’ll talk at the same time. Okay?”

Keith’s eyes slipped shut with a combination of relief and exhaustion. “Yeah. Okay. Just...just don’t lose focus. Don’t want any of you...getting hurt.”

“We’re good. I promise.” There was a pause before Shiro continued. “Can you promise me the same? That you’re gonna be okay?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He hated lying to Shiro. Besides, his head was spinning so much now from blood loss that any words he came up with almost immediately got lost again.

“Hey, Sh’ro?” he finally managed.

“Yeah, bud?”

“R’member when...I stole your...car?”

It seemed like it was taking Shiro a really long time to respond, but that could have just been because he was drifting in and out of consciousness. “Yeah, bud. That’s kinda hard to forget. You sure knew how to make a first impression.”

A smile played at the corners of Keith’s lips. “But you...you were my friend. Anyway. E’en though...I did that. And I was...a jerk.”

“You weren’t a jerk. Well, okay, maybe a little. But I could tell it was all a front.”

“You were...were the only one who...ever tried. I don’t know if I...ever...said thank you.”

Shiro’s voice sounded strange when he spoke again. “You don’t have to, buddy. Being your friend is my pleasure.”

The other Paladins had fallen strangely silent, not even calling out maneuvers anymore. He hoped they were still listening. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to them, but he knew it needed to be something.

“Thank...all ‘f you. For...bein’ friends. Good...good friends. Like fam’ly.”

“Keith.” Hunk’s voice had that unmistakable wobble to it that meant he was crying or about to. “You’re killing me here, bud. You’re our family, too.”

“No, shut up, don’t encourage him!” Pidge growled. “This is stupid! You sound like you’re saying goodbye and you need to shut up, because we are coming to get you, do you hear me?”

Leave it to Pidge to think she could threaten him into living. “You...you can’t.”

“Excuse you, what the heck do you mean we can’t?”

The end of Lance’s demand was drowned out by Keith falling into a coughing fit, worse than the last two combined. He could feel the metal ripping further into him. Eventually the fit dwindled into a long whimper, one that he didn’t really want the team to hear but couldn’t help.

“...Keith?”

“You’ll be too late,” he whispered, too tired to keep up the lie any longer. “I’m...bleeding out.”

“I’m going down there right now. I don’t care if I have to search the entire planet, I am not staying up here while he’s down there dy-” She cut off abruptly.

“I’m coming, too. Lance, Hunk, you’ve got this handled.”

“Yes, they’ll be fine, and will have backup from the Castle. Go find Keith.”

They were such good people. Better people than he had deserved to have in his life. He was pretty sure he was slipping away, and pretty sure that he wouldn’t wake back up. But he was doing it with a fond smile on his face. “Love you guys,” he breathed.

“Keith?”

“KEITH!”

——————————

Now with a continuation!

103 notes · View notes

muse-oleum · 4 years

Text

The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3;

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there.

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology.

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away.

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead.

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them.

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper.

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it.

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow.

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day.

“You’re an early riser!”

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them.

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop.

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.”

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.”

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls.

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.”

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure.

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.”

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.”

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea.

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart.

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising.

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there.

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through.

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts.

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food.

“I believe this little lad is hungry.”

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa.

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly.

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.”

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else.

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.”

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.”

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup.

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her.

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance.

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile.

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch.

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see.

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight.

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly:

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.”

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said:

“I love blue butterflies too.”

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

Comment below if you want to be added to my HH taglist!

#harry hart #kingsman #harry hart x oc #harry hart x reader #harry hart x fem!oc #the flower shop #part 3 #original work #kingsman: the secret service #Kingsman: the golden circle #fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #original character #original female character

75 notes · View notes

littlenoona · 5 years

Text

Untouched.

Summary: Your long time crush finds you in a club and unexpectedly takes you home.

Warnings: Virgin kink(I think? Probably not tbh now that I read through it), rough sex, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, dirty talk, praise, throw some noona in there, big dick, alcohol, oral(f), kitten, babygirl and baby pet names.

Genre: Smut & fluff.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader(F).

Word Count: 5,553.

Masterlist.

Leaning your bare shoulders against the cold tiles of the club’s wall you sipped on your drink, the sour of the alcohol hitting your tongue and making your lips purse slightly, your short black dress feeling a little tighter than when you left home, your feet stinging from the prolonged use, despite wearing a pair of flat shoes.

Your eyes fell on your friend, Narae, dancing in the middle of a pile of people, as she always did, full of confidence and life, she was such an opposite to you - she always managed to pull you to these places despite your introverted nature, though you couldn’t say you didn't often have fun when she did it, the night usually went well and a good sleep was certainly had after.

Downing the remainder of your drink you put the empty glass on an unoccupied table nearby, a hand grabbing your wrist as soon as you placed it down, pulling you into a firm chest, arms wrapping around you to hold you tight, you nearly screamed but it was stopped when you heard a familiar deep voice cut through the music and reach your ear, “Well if it isn’t my favourite noona!”

You smiled and leaned into the hug, your own arms enveloping the waist of the man in front of you, his aftershave causing butterflies in your stomach, “Jungkookah!”

He leaned back and his eyes found yours, his heart fluttering smile appearing, “I haven’t seen you for so long! How have you been?”

So much was true, Jungkook was not in your circle of friends, an extended acquaintance that you had been pining after since you met him - he always treated you like you were above all whenever he saw you, which didn’t help the feelings you continuously felt for him, but you held your tongue, he was so far out of your league and the fact that you didn’t have an established friendship only added to that.

“Same old, same old. Too much work, not enough play.” you shrugged, “How about you?”

“Busy, busy!” he laughed, running his fingers through his messy hair, making you realise that your arms were still around him, as was his remaining arm around you, holding your body close to his.

He’d changed a little since you last saw him, his hair was longer, almost hiding the piercings in his ears, his body had swollen significantly, you knew he liked to work out and you could see, as well as feel, how well it paid off - a few buttons open by his neck, his white dress shirt sat tight around his torso leading down to his small waist, a belt embedded in his black slacks emphasising it before leading down to his thick thighs and round behind, all of it making Jungkook, standing tall above you.

Luckily, his sweet black doe eyes and expressive smile hadn’t changed, the same old nose scrunch and full body movement when he laughed - something you adored so much.

“Are you eyeing up the crowd for a guy to take home?” he queried, his eyes peering through the massive amounts of people - you opened your mouth to respond but before you even managed to utter a word he continued to speak, his eyes returning to yours, “I’ll have to assess him first and I can already tell you, none of these are good enough for you.”

“I’m your innocent and uncorrupt noona, remember?” you smiled, shaking your head, but when he raised an eyebrow at you in response you chuckled and explained it plainly, “I’m a virgin, Jungkookah.”

The drinks swirling in your bloodstream may have given you more confidence, made you say and do things you wouldn’t normally do, destroy some inhibitions, make you a little wobbly on your feet, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemed to change, grow darker below his brows and show a hunger you hadn’t seen before, though it was short lived as they quickly returned to their normal adoring state.

His finger went under your chin and lifted your head slightly, “Come find me if someone makes unwanted advances on you, noona, I’ll be your boyfriend for the night.”

You didn't know how to respond, but you could feel the fire in your cheeks, the position he had you in and the words he spoke, you were done for - as if called to save you Narae appeared, bowing towards Jungkook as a greeting before turning to you, grabbing your arm, “Come dance with me!”

Smiling at Jungkook, he let go of you and you followed her into the crowd of people, the music growing louder with every step you took, the heat from the other bodies radiating onto you as she stopped and started to move her body in front of you, and you did the same, the blinking lights above you causing everything to become stop motion movements.

You mimicked her movements, swaying your hips, rolling your body in ways you didn’t even know you could, letting your hands roam your own body, the thud of the music escaping the floor into the soles of your feet, the base emitted from the speakers beating in your chest.

Between light flickers one of Narae’s old flames had found her in the pool of people and had his body pressed against hers, her eyes opened and fell on you to judge if she should push him away, to not make you uncomfortable, but your stare had found someone else's - Jungkook’s - standing at the edge of the room where you had left him, his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall as he observed you move so suggestively, his eyes locked on you as a predator would his prey below his furrowed brow.

You slid your hand up your body and into your hair, leaning your head back in a pleasured manner before letting it glide back down your throat, between your breasts and down to your core, rolling your hips against it, biting your bottom lip as your other hand raised and gestured for him to come to you.

He responded instantly, walking towards you with a glare that could send you to your knees, moving between people without losing sight of you until he reached you, his arm extending to put his hand on your stomach, moving behind you, holding your body tightly against his as he swayed with you, moving his face into the crevice of your neck, you could feel his breath and lips on your skin, your hand going behind you and into his hair, feeling the softness of his locks, you leaned your head back on his shoulder as his other hand held onto your side with a strong grip.

Your body continued to move, molded to his, despite the music changing pace, whether it be faster or slower, you didn’t change yours, rolling against him as if no other people were around to see, the fire under your skin controlling your every move, your hand holding onto his arm on your stomach, feeling the protruding veins of it against your palm - the heat radiating off of him causing a shine to appear on your skin.

Pressing his hips against you, you felt how hard he’d gotten from watching you and you grinding on him, returning the play you pushed yourself back on it, hearing a harsh sigh released from him, his fingers digging into your body to signify his need and approval of your movements - a throb in your core made the slick between your folds very apparent.

You turned your head and you were face to face with him, his eyes flickering between your open mouthed breaths and eyes, as yours did with him, so close, yet so far, his lips almost touching yours, but he stayed away, playing on your desperation for him - his hand on your side moved up between your breasts and to your throat, gripping it softly, leaning his mouth to your ear, his other hand slowly running down to your core, but never touching it, “Let me take you home.”

Looking over at Narae, she was equally as occupied with her flame, but as if she felt you looking at her, she opened her eyes and you flicked your eyes to the exit before going back to her with a suggestive smile and she nodded softly with a smirk, knowing exactly what you meant, returning her full attention to her chosen one of the night.

Leaning away from Jungkook, he looked down at you and you nodded with your lip situated between your teeth, an excitement in your body you couldn’t describe, your stomach clenching - he took your hand and kept you close as he guided you out of the club, the cold burning your skin while you walked towards one of the taxi’s already parked outside, the dull thud of the music fading, your eyes noting the large amount of people stood outside smoking.

He opened the door for you and you scooted in, moving to the middle so he could get in after you, he gave the driver his address as he closed the door and the lights above you turned off, the driver moving off quickly - Jungkook looked at you, moved his arm behind you, pulled you close to him, his body heat warming you up quickly when you leaned into him, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, sliding it under your dress, his thumb caressing your skin so close to your core, your own hand grasping his shirt and thigh as he leaned his face into your neck, running his nose along it.

The drinks you had served to make time pass faster, Jungkook’s movements only assisting that, finally pressing his lips fully to your neck, placing kiss after kiss, opening his mouth to run his tongue along your skin, taking what little breath you had away from you, you closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest as it raised and fell heavily, a soft moan escaping you when you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your side and thigh, a deep chuckle leaving him in approval.

The car stopped and Jungkook detached his lips from you, noticing that you’d arrived at his, he moved to pay the driver, opening the door to get out with a, “Keep the change.”

He extended his hand to you and you took it, getting out of the car, shaking slightly on your legs as he led you to his door, extracting his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and motioning for you to enter, following behind you, locking the door before he grabbed you and pushed you against it, pressing his body to yours, one arm resting above your head, the other next to you, looking down at you with hungry eyes, licking his lips.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered, “You can say stop at any time.”

You offered him a shy smile, appreciating his need for your consent, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I want you.”

As if to confirm to him, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, they were as soft as you’d always imagined - his hands ran down your sides and under your thighs, lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, your shoes falling off your feet in the process, feeling him press his member against your core, a choked moan stuck in your throat because of it, he deepened the kiss, your other hand sliding into his hair, desperately holding onto him.

Pulling you from the door, he walked through his house with you attached to him, softly kicking the door of his bedroom open, leaning over the bed to put you down slowly, hovering above you as your back hit the mattress, his arms extended on by your sides - his lips never left yours, moving against them with hunger and need, yet delicate and considerate.

He placed his hand on your chest and you felt the scorching heat of it, goosebumps rising on your skin, he dragged it up to one of your shoulders, sliding the strap of your dress down before doing it to the opposite side too, returning his hand to the middle again, hooking his finger under the fabric to pull it down to your waist, exposing your bare torso and allowing your arms to slip out of the straps, his fingers tracing up to your breast, one of them circling your nipple softly causing a slight shiver in your breath, flinching your chest away from him - your lips stuck together slightly as he pulled away to look down at you, your hair dishevelled around your figure, your eyes opening slowly to reveal blown out pupils, your cheeks flushed.

“So sensitive..” he purred.

He moved further down your body, attaching his lips to your other nipple, flicking his tongue against it, circling it, biting it softly, causing you to whimper, your hand finding the back of his head, intertwining your fingers in his locks, electricity sent directly from your breast to your core, a needy clench in it before he kissed down your stomach, pulling your dress with him until he could pull it off your legs, leaving you in only your underwear.

Sitting down on his knees on the floor, he leaned in between your legs, moving them onto his shoulders, he kissed along the edge of the fabric on your stomach, loving the soft sighs you released, dragging his lips against your inner thigh until he reached your core, the wet spot on them allowing pride to swell in his chest - he planted a kiss to your folds, opening his mouth and letting you feel his breath on your core before he swiped his tongue along it, your breath hitching at the action.

He hooked his fingers under the hem of your underwear and pulled them off, returning to his position between your legs, looking at the shine of your core while you thanked yourself for insisting you shaved before going out.

“Such a pretty cunt, baby.” he growled, his fingers spreading your folds to adore the sight, “You’re so small, I might break you.”

“Jungkookah..” you released your breath, his words so new to you, but making you feel so good, his tongue pressed against your clit and you gasped, your fingers digging into the sheets below you.

“Mmm?” he hummed against you, letting his tongue circle your most delicate spot.

“Fuck..” you mewled.

He hooked his arms under and around your thighs, pulling you closer to him and to hold you in place while his tongue slowly swiped up and down your slit, your hand came down to hold onto his hair, feeling his head move in rhythm with his tongue - his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked gently on it causing a feeling in your heat that had your toes curling behind his head, extracting small whimpers from you that only grew in volume until they turned to moans, his tongue widening to cover all of your clit while he repeatedly licked it.

Moving one of his arms away from your thigh, his fingers instead slipped between your folds, letting one finger circle around before pushing into you, keeping it still momentarily, listening to your sharp and quick inhale, the newfound feeling sending a shock wave through you - he moved it slowly, looking up at you through hooded lids, watching as you surrendered yourself to him, closed eyes, reddened cheeks, mouth ajar, sounds of lust leaving it, grabbing at the fabric below you.

Letting a second finger slip into you he waited for it to be coated in your essence before slipping a third into you and you felt the burn becoming harder to ignore, a pressure in the back of your core coming closer the longer his mouth was attached to you - his tongue licking across the top of your clit, circling around it, drawing crosses on it and sucking on it, his fingers maintaining a slow pace in contrast to his tongue.

He felt you clench on his fingers and he knew that you were getting close, confirmed by your stomach tensing more and more, your legs quivering beside him, your moans becoming shorter and more frequent separated by quick pants and curses - he curled his fingers inside you, finding a spot you didn’t know you had and didn’t know could feel so good, throwing you to the generosity of your orgasm, his grip on your thigh strengthened and his tongue grew more vicious, so desperate to hear and feel you come undone by him, to taste your release.

“J-Jungkookah..” you desperately breathed, arching your back into the mattress while the muscles of your body became rigid and the pressure in your core was on the breaking point.

He sucked harshly on your clit and your orgasm broke loose, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body, clenching repeatedly on his fingers while he continued his actions, your breathing laboured and shaky, such intensity rippling through your body while you lost almost all control of it, but his movements didn’t stop and you became increasingly sensitive, almost not able to handle the pleasure.

“I can’t..” you panted, leaning your head into the mattress below, “F-fuck..”

Your hands reached down to him, but he didn’t stop, pulling his fingers from you to grab your wrists and hold them against your thighs, keeping you where you were, completely at his mercy, his tongue ruthlessly swiping across your clit repeatedly, growling in approval into you as you writhed below him, your body trembling, your hips raising and lowering as much as his grip allowed, desperately trying to move away from him, but to no avail, loud whimpers extracted from you endlessly, a blaze rising behind your clit causing your body to still entirely, your hands fighting against his as another orgasm surged through you, almost painful but so powerful, an intoxicating feeling.

He finally let go of you, standing up to lean down to you, encasing you between his arms, as your body twitched and you grabbed a hold of his shirt, “I’m here, I’ve got you.” he cooed in your ear, “You’re okay, you did so fucking good for me.”

Kicking his shoes off, he undid his belt and pulled his slacks as well as boxers down, leaving his shirt on as you were still holding on to it, he hooked his arm under your back to move you up to the headboard, placing you down gently on the pillows - he laid down on top of you, keeping his arm around you, the other by your side, pressing soft kisses to your neck, humming softly as he saw you stretch it to give him more room, “Still want more?”

“I do..” you breathed.

He raised himself above you and your fingers found their way to the buttons on his shirt, one by one revealing his extremely muscular body, your hand gliding down his chest and stomach, feeling the curves, dips and dents of his body before going back up to his shoulders, each of your hands pulling the fabric down his arms, your hands not even able to fit half way around them - you were in awe of his figure and he could see it on your features, exactly what he wanted.

Ridding himself of the clothing he pressed his lips to yours, desperation clear by the way he was pushing against you, a hungry frenzy taking over him, he positioned himself closer to you and you finally felt his member lying heavily against your stomach, a nervousness settling in you when you felt the size of it - he playfully bit your bottom lip and you opened your mouth in a groan, his tongue experimentally swiped against it after and you let your tongue out to find his, a fight for dominance short lived as you let him take over you, feeling his hand slide down your side and under your thigh, lifting it up against his side, pressing his body against yours.

His hand slid from your thigh to your core, taking his member in hand to slide it up and down your folds, coating himself in your wetness before pushing slowly into you, the burn of his large member radiating through your entire body, a painful pleasure you could easily get addicted to only increasing the further in he pushed, your legs squeezing around him, your nails digging into his chest when you released from his lips and leaned your head back, a whimpering moan leaving your lips.

“So fucking tight..” he growled, looking down between your bodies, watching as he disappeared into you before leaning into your neck, his hands grasping at the sheets below you, a soft groan released from his lips when his hips finally met your skin.

“God.. Jungkookah..” you mewled into his chest, “I should’ve found someone with a smaller cock for my first time.”

“I wouldn’t have let them take it, your virgin cunt is mine.” he chuckled lowly, “Only mine.”

Slowly pulling out of you he started a slow pace of grinding into you, getting you used to him as he filled you completely and you could feel every movement he made - he rested on his elbows beside your head, making you feel so small below him while he pushed his lips to yours, soft moans leaving him only overshadowed by your own slightly louder ones, your hands going under his arms to his back, feeling his muscles flex below your palms when he moved, his own hands gripping the pillow under you.

He detached his mouth from yours, letting it instead find your neck, biting you gently as his hips increased their pace, turning into a proper thrust instead of grind, a new, more sharp, pleasure shooting through you - you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, your nails digging into his back, scratching down his skin causing him to growl against your skin, arching his back into your action.

You released a breathy laugh, a smile painted on your lips, “Love a bit of pain, do you?”

“You have no idea, baby..” he whispered as he held still, lifted himself and grabbed your arms, removing them from his back so he could grab your wrists and hold them down against the mattress next to your head, looking down at you with a cocky smirk, “But you’re not quite ready for that kinda roughness yet.”

“Scared you’re going to break me, Jungkookah?” you teased with a fake pout.

He raised a brow at you, tilting his head, “Playing with fire there, kitten.”

The new nickname caused your core to clench around him, something he very clearly noticed because his smile grew wider - your cheeks started heating up and you averted your gaze from him.

Leaning down to your ear, he whispered mischievously, “I’ve barely started with you, I’ve barely taken your virginity, and you want me to be rough with you already?” he paused, and you could hear a soft snicker leave him, “Is that right, kitten?”

He didn’t miss how your breathing hitched, so he let go of your wrists and leaned back to sit on his knees, pushing his hair back before he grabbed your hips and forcefully pulled you close to him, burying himself in you causing a whine to leave you, he placed his hand on your stomach, spreading his fingers and let it drag up to your throat, holding onto it, you tilted your head back, welcoming his hand, he watched as your breathing became heavier and your lips parted to accommodate, he spoke, “Remember what I told you, you can say stop at any time.”

You nodded softly as he let go and his hand returned to your hip, his thrusts starting slowly but increasing in pace and force quickly - you couldn’t help but close your eyes and let yourself succumb to his movements, your fingers digging into the sheets while your mouth fell open, letting moans escape repeatedly.

His hands slid to the back of your knees, pushing your legs towards your stomach and spreading them further apart, his stare falling to where he pushed in and out of you, allowing him to go slightly deeper into you and you felt like he might actually break you, his eyes indulging in the sight of you, naked, vulnerable and surrendered to him - you opened your eyes and looked up at him, his hair hanging in strands in front of his face, a shine of sweat across his body, his abs flexing every time he thrusted into you, as did his arms as he held your legs in place.

His eyes flickered up to yours, hungrily looking down your body under his furrowed brow, “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

Pulling out of you, he used his grip on your legs to turn you around, spreading them to move between them, hovering above you resting on his stretched arms, while you rested on your elbows, he moved your hair from your shoulder to the side, softly kissing the skin of your neck, “Raise your ass a little for me, babygirl.”

You did as he asked and he pushed back into you, your mouth falling open in a silent moan, loving how he filled you in a whole new way, your fingers digging into the pillow in front of you, hearing Jungkook let out a slight hiss.

“You take me so well, kitten.” he smirked against your temple, “So tight around my cock.”

Humming softly in response, you felt him start a slow pace but quickly changed it to faster and harder thrusts, panting against your shoulder, biting it harshly making you whine loudly, leaning your head forward while he swiped his tongue across the mark he had left - you looked back at him and he instantly captured your lips in a heated kiss, hardly able to keep them pressed to each other because of his hips continuously pushing you forward.

You couldn’t keep up with the pleasure surging through your body, you let go of his lips and leaned your head back on his shoulder, mewling while your body shook beneath him - he slowed down slightly, his voice smug, “What’s wrong, baby? Can’t handle it?”

You couldn’t even continue the cocky game you were playing, your body and mind was so desperate for release, you gave in, whining back at him, “I wanna cum so bad, Jungkookah, please, feels so good..”

“Yeah?” he purred, making you quickly nod in response before he continued, “I’ll take good care of you.”

He returned to his forceful thrusts, angling his hips slightly different hitting something in you that had bolts shooting through your body, a sensation you couldn’t describe rising in your feet and thighs, your legs tensing and locking in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you desperately begged for your orgasm to come closer, Jungkook’s pace making it a reality.

Your core snapped and clenched tightly on him causing him to bury his member deep inside you, your back arching into his body when your abs constricted again and again, bliss pouring through every part of your frame.

“Fucking..” he groaned, overwhelmed by how good it felt having you cum on him before he praised you, “Good girl..”

He throbbed needily inside you, letting you calm down from your high, waiting for your body to stop shivering, pressing sweet kisses to your skin before he pulled from you and sat up on his knees, pulling your legs closed beneath him, sitting down on them to pull your folds apart and push into you again, chasing his own high which was so close he could feel it in his stomach.

One of his hands rested on your hip, the other on your shoulder, pulling you back as he pushed against you, his soft moans becoming more apparent between his exhausted breaths, “God.. Fuck..”

Your overstimulated cries intertwined with his as his hips stuttered and stilled when he spilled inside you, thrusting softly to ride his orgasm completely, his body shuddering when he had nothing left to offer, his hands letting go of you, sitting back on his heels, heaving for air, your body falling flat on the mattress, equally exhausted and gasping for air.

He pulled from you and stood up next to the bed, wobbling on his legs before disappearing into the bathroom and you heard the shower start - you turned onto your side, a direct line of sight to the bathroom from where you were, you watched his figure step under the running water, but you closed your eyes and let your body regain some strength, though it wasn’t long before heard shuffling next to you and the back of his knuckles tenderly swept across your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up, get some food and water in you.”

You merely mumbled in response, an objection because you didn’t want to leave the bed, but he didn’t give you much choice when he hooked his arms under your legs and back, your own wrapping around his neck as he carried you to the bathroom, putting you down by the shower, finally opening your eyes, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “There’s a towel and one of my shirts you can wear by the sink, call if you need me.”

He walked out and left you to your own, giving you a few seconds to admire how his sweatpants were hugging his small waist and how his bare back was covered in your scratches, causing a smile to appear on your lips as you stepped into the shower and washed yourself.

Drying off and putting on the shirt he’d left for you, his scent filled your senses with joy while you walked to the kitchen, seeing him sat by the dining room table swallowing noodles, motioning towards the bowl across from him, set up for you.

You’d both sobered up quite a bit after eating, you were sat taking small sips of the glass of water in your hand, your eyes fixated on the floor, absent from reality and Jungkook could tell something was wrong.

“Noona?” he spoke softly.

Your eyes returned to him with a smile, “Mmh?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, his features worried.

You nodded in response, but you didn’t quite sell it to him - you didn’t regret coming here, you didn’t regret having sex with him, but you were sad that you’d probably not see him again for a long time, that he wasn’t someone you frequently spoke to, that he wasn’t aware of how much you wanted to be with him, how your feelings had developed over so long.

“Do you..” he hesitated to ask, “Regret coming home with me?”

“No!” you responded quickly, raising your hand to dismiss him, “No, I don’t.”

He stood up and walked over to you, squatting down by your chair and you put your glass down, turning your body to him, he placed his hands on your bare thighs, his thumbs caressing your skin softly, “Was it something I did? Was I too rough?”

“No, Jungkookah, it was amazing.” you laughed, “I just..”

Your eyes dropped to where his hands were placed on you, your smile fading, you didn’t know how to say it, or even if it was a good idea to, knowing how it would probably sound like the virgin he’d just taken home got attached, but you had feelings for him before this happened, since you first met him quite a few years ago and you only fell harder every time you saw him after that, every time you spoke, when you learned more about him, when he treated you like you were his favourite and was always by your side when you unexpectedly met, whether it be at parties, random gatherings between your circle of friends or just in town.

“You’re worried you’re not going to see me again, aren’t you?” he intervened your thoughts.

Raising your gaze, you saw the sincere concern in his near black eyes, almost hidden behind his dishevelled hair and you offered a small nod - he hit the spot.

“Baby..” he sighed while standing up, he placed both his hands on each of your cheeks, making you look up at him as he leaned down and placed the most tender kiss to your lips, your own hands holding onto his wrists, feeling his thumbs gently swipe across your skin - the kiss hurt your soul, a cold thud in your chest as your heart’s pace increased, leaving you in a limbo with no answer until he let go of your lips and looked at you with a smile.

“That’s not going to happen, you’re my favourite noona, remember?” he smiled, “I’d like to see much more of you.”

“Really?” you blurted out with surprise.

“Yes.” he chuckled, wrapping one of his arms around your back to pull you up and stand against him, “Care to join me in bed? I’m exhausted.”

“Mmhm!” you hummed in excitement, wrapping your arms around his neck as he almost carried you to bed while you dangled off of him, his laughter at your silliness sounding sweeter than ever.

Please do not repost. If you wish to repost, please contact me directly requesting permission, with details of where, and on what account(name). I will put the details of approved reposts below.

559 notes · View notes

sp00kworm · 4 years

Note

Aaa okay so I saw this on tiktok, where each time you get your heart broken a heart appears on your face/body, and if one appears on your lips you’re silenced until true love’s kiss. Would you mind writing smth about reader pining after 1A’s big three/Kirishima (you pick idc) and getting heartbroken since the boy goes on dates w other people and not them and eventually has the heart appear in their lips? Tysm I’m sorry 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

[Cont]: Would Amajiki be okay? Or Fathum. I’m sure I’ll love it either way! Your writing style is just really nice. 🥰

A/N: And now my Boomer ways will be shown. Thank you for the compliment though anon! I hope this lives up to your expectations? Also it was hard to choose here to I went for Tamaki, but rest assured I will write Fatgum soon because I absolutely adore Fatgum.

Pairing: Amajiki Tamaki/Suneater x Reader

---

Cupid’s Bow Lips

There was a common folklore all around the globe, one about heartbreak, and how the heart would appear on an individual’s skin, looking like odd freckles, small and perfectly formed until their soulmate broke their heart and sealed their lips with a blood red heart. Never had you believed in it, not until you met UA’s Big Three. The three top students in their final year of highschool. To see little Tamaki Amajiki as part of that trio was amazing in your eyes. His quirk was wonderful though. It was no wonder he was so highly ranked within the school. Yet the stark realism showed you that power and numbers would always be apart of your hero lives. Suneater. The hero to consume even the brightest of stars. You could not wait to see how great of a hero Tamaki would become once you all graduated. You’d known him since the first year, Mirio happily bounding over to introduce his recluse of a friend to everyone in the class, bubbly and extremely people fond. In contrast, Tamaki had stood and shivered, offering only a wave before he jumped and was dragged to the next desk with a friend group clustered around. You’d only spoken to him fully once when he needed to borrow a pencil and was too quiet to ask you without vaguely gesturing to your pencil in your own hand during mathematics.

Mirio had poked his hand through the back of your chair to get you to even notice the floundering dark haired boy.

“C-Can I…borrow a pencil?” Mirio had given him a bright smile and a thumbs-up, ever supportive as you blinked for a moment.

“Oh..Uh…Sure.” You fumbled in your pencil case before offering him a cherry stamped pencil, “You can keep it.” You offered as you went back to following what Ectoplasm was chattering about on the chalk board.

Tamaki blushed at the girly red cherry pencil but nodded his head, “Thank you.” Before looking back at the board, feeling Mirio’s bright smile on his back before a foot poked him in the back. He shuddered in embarrassment, teeth clenched as he tried and failed to follow whatever the hell the equation was Ectoplasm was yammering about.

“FIRST TO THE ANSWER GETS TO LEAVE EARLY.” The pro-hero announced, flicking the chalk rubber in his hand as he settled behind the desk, satisfied with the complexity of the problem for his third years.

It was easier talking after that. Amajiki wasn’t the most easy to get involved in a conversation, but it was very easy to get him to listen. His grades were good as well, so often you found yourself leaning over to ask him about Ectoplasm’s impossible equations. That was the start of you feeling something different for your classmate. Often Mirio would lean over and poke you in the back, fingers permeating your chair, scaring you half to death during class so Tamaki could ask you something. It got even scarier when Mirio popped his head through your door and invited you down to eat with them. Tamaki was a lot chattier in the company of Mirio and Nejire, two people he trusted completely, and you found yourself enamoured with their little group, although many did not like you tagging along with their famous trio. That became apparent the day you watched Tamaki get approached by a group of girls. Mirio was luckily there to disrupt the flow a little, talking loudly and brashly to let Amajiki hide a little behind his form, yet some were persistent, crowding the boy with requests of things.

“Amajiki-senpai, how about you go out with Hiroko? She really wants to speak to you about your manifest quirk! She has a similar thing but with mushrooms and I think you would be adorable together.” The girl cheered next to him. You could see the boy shutting down, shivering behind Mirio like a cowering kitten.

The blond gasped and shook his friend, “Come on Tamaki! I think it would be great!” He cheered before nodding, “Of course he’ll go chat to her! His quirk control is amazing.” Dense as ever Mirio encouraged him until the boy nodded and rushed away, seeking anyone to find refuge with away from the screeching crowd of girls. You felt your heart ache as you saw his blushed face and panicked expression.

Amajiki looked to your locker and panicked when you weren’t there, the door left open as though you had rushed away in a panic. Maybe the girls had gotten to you too? He looked down the corridor shyly, hiding behind the door of your locker before he peered inside. Your textbooks were there and practice uniform, even your school bag. He chewed his cheek as he looked at the pinned-up picture. It was his last birthday party. You were both passed out on top of Mirio’s stomach as he laughed. Nejire had taken the photo for you all before one of herself, peace signing with Mirio’s cheeky smile. Somehow, as he closed your locker door, your bag in hand, he felt like he had done something terribly wrong. Still, he needed to find you, to try and weasel his way out of whatever scary date Mirio had just accidentally set him up on.

He scoured the school before returning to the dorms. You room was locked.

Cautiously, he knocked, “(Y/N)? You…You left your bag.” There was no reply, “I’ll leave it outside.” He uttered, barely audible behind the door. He considered wiggling a tentacle under the door and letting himself in before shaking and chickening out too quickly. Gently, he placed your backpack against your door and left, sighing and grumbling to himself nervously as he tried to think of a way to avoid going out on a very unwanted date. With a sniffle, you dared to look at the mirror again and the burning, blood red heart that covered your lips. It sealed your mouth shut, the skin hot to the touch and sore. The curves moved over your cupids bow and the tip sat underneath your bottom lip, the skin held tight whenever you tried to speak. You could open to breathe and to eat, but to speak, the skin burned as though stuck together with super glue. The folk tale was true, and you were stuck, cursed to never speak to someone again if Tamaki found his love in this girl. Your heart ached as you looked at the littering of heart shaped freckles over your skin. Your chest was laced with them. You felt tears burn in your eyes as you started to cry again, bawling silently into your pillow, the mirror tossed on the floor.

You didn’t come to class the next day. Mirio frowned at your seat and at the gloomy looking Amajiki sat in front of him, hair flat and unbrushed as though he hadn’t slept.

“Are they unwell?” Mirio leaned over to ask him at lunch as they stood from their desks.

Tamaki shrugged but didn’t say a word, teeth gritted behind his quivering lips.

“Are you sure you want to go out with Hiroko, Tamaki?” Mirio asked, a large hand resting on his best friend’s shoulder.

In a sudden deep intake of breath, Amajiki span around to face him, “There’s nothing that would upset me more than having to go on a date with that girl.” He covered his mouth soon after and watched Mirio howl with laughter, the blond leaning back against his desk to try and steady himself as tears escaped his eyes.

“Oh…Oh my.” He wheezed, “That’s…Gosh. Here.” He pushed himself upright, “You go and check in on (Y/N), okay? I’ll go and make an excuse for you not to go out, deal?” Mirio smiled mischievously, but Tamaki nodded and fled the classroom faster than he ever had done before.

The dorms were silent. Everyone was out at lunch. He knew you had to be in your dorm room on the third floor. Only your next-door neighbour has seen you last night. You’d snuck out for a shower very late. Tamaki stood outside your door with a grimace, his fist held close to the wood as he listened to your silent room.

“(Y/N)?” He asked softly, knocking quietly, looking at his feet, “Everyone thinks you’re ill…Are y-you okay?” There wasn’t a reply. He sucked in a breath and summoned the digesting Takoyaki, the octopus tentacle squirming to life on his finger before he reached to the bottom of the door and squirmed it underneath, groping upwards until he could find the lock and handle, flicking the lock open with a clunk before he recalled his finger and opened the door, peering inside nervously in case he saw something untoward, “(Y/N)?” He asked again, looking at the lump laid under the covers of your bed. He dared to come a little closer, hand clutching the covers, giving it a little tug, “Everyone i-is worried…”

Silence. You clutched the covers tight before a tentacle squirmed under the covers, suckers locking tight before Tamaki wrenched the covers away from your face.

The sight scared him, so much so that he let out a squeak at the sight of your face, tear streaked and lips burning with a red love heart.

“Did…Did someone do this to you?” He asked with a shadow on his face as he dared to look at the sore skin again, fingers twitching as he reached for you before falling short.

You shook your head, a tear dripping down your cheek as Tamaki finally dared to cup your cheek and assess the damage.

His voice shook, “Is…This that… t-that myth about.” He gasped quietly before reaching his other hand to your other cheek, “Do you truly like me that way? I-I didn’t.” Too many thoughts swirled in his head, “I didn’t go out with Hiroko. I don’t like her…not like I like you.” He confessed, thumbs nervously stroking the apples of your cheeks before he took a breath, stealing his nerves before he leaned forwards quickly and kissed your lips, eyes closed tightly in case you should reject him.

A shocked noise escaped you before you felt the soreness of your lips ease, the heart fading and your lips parting to let you push back against Tamaki. The man gasped when your fingers gripped his shoulders, tugging him closer. The kiss healed your lips. The soreness escaped and your lips were healed. You pulled away from the kiss with a smile and pushed your fingers against your lips.

“I love you.” You wrangled Tamaki close, nuzzling his hair as you clutched the pointed tips of his ears.

The blue haired male gasped before blushing, “Are you…b-better now?” He asked gently, hands clasping your face with concern, teeth gritted awkwardly.

“Better than ever…Thanks to you.” You confessed.

“Then…Would you like to come and get lunch?” Tamaki asked, fingers playing with your shirt.

“I would like nothing more.”

Tamaki stood before reaching for your hand, “I…I-I…” He took a breath, “I love you t-too.” He stuttered out before tugging you along behind him, face blushing red and hands quaking as you clutched him tighter and followed him for lunch.

159 notes · View notes

werezmastarbucks · 5 years

Text

c a r e

kai parker x reader brutal fluff oneshot

Kai’s bleeding out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

word count: 1920

warnings: language, mentions of suicide, kind of au

You opened your eyes and winced, closed them again and decided to smell the room first. It’s been a while since you got hit on the head last. In fact, the last heavy blow that might have been dangerous for you, you received here, in Mystic Falls, five years ago. Outside this wretched town, danger was virtually non-existent. All the crap always happened here. Did you really have to come back, did you, really? There went your silent rant as your feelings were coming back to you, the tips of your fingers stinging, your limbs, sore, and the smell of burning curtains in the air. The sun was on your face, burning the cut somewhere on your forehead. You lifted your hand and touched it gently, still keeping your eyes closed, and put your finger in your mouth. Blood.

You sat up carefully, and looked around.

“Anybody alive?” you called. The house seemed to be empty. A slender streak of smoke came out of the fireplace. You pictured the last thing you saw before you blacked out: Liv Parker, her great mane of blonde hair waving and messed up, with her arm outstretched, screaming some latin shit in your face. All they ever said while chanting sounded like intricate swearing, honestly. Then, you got up on your feet and started assessing the room, sure that there’s supposed to be something else.

There he is! Another Parker, the psycho one, laying on his back, his white shirt soaking in blood. In a flash, his life ran before your eyes. You thought of the way he spoke to you and that article you read about the night he killed his family, and how there’s so much more to it.

You sprinted to him – well, walked, fast. He was going pale, losing the color, becoming like the shirt he was wearing. When he didn’t talk, and didn’t roll his eyes around, he looked almost like a child, almost quiet. You tried his neck – if there was pulse, you didn’t catch it, because your hands started shaking. After all he’s done, where he’s been and everything he’s seen and was about to see, that was not the way he’d go. Stabbed in the stomach with a poker? Please.

“Can you hear me?”

You looked around and took off your own jacket, pressing the wound in, and the blood started coming even faster, like you were squeezing a lemon.

“Shit”.

You felt for the phone and didn’t find it. You tapped his jeans and pulled his iPhone out, calling for the emergency services. The lady’s voice startled you because you got distracted immediately as you were trying to close that huge hole in his abdomen.

“What’s your emergency?”

“I- I’ve got a guy here who’s very stabbed, he’s like bleeding out”.

“What’s your address?”

You spat out the Salvatore mansion address, deeply surprised you had it carved somewhere on the wall of your skull; his blood was hot, which was probably a good sign, right? His face was glistening with sweat, and your palm was warm on his cheek. You bent over Kai, putting your ear very close to his face, and it sounded like faint breathing.

“Is he awake?”

“No, he’s out, and he’s getting very pale”.

“Okay, I’ve dispatched the car, they’re going to be there in fi-ive-minutes”, the girl said reassuringly.

“Thank you, what do I…”

“How much blood is there?”

You threw the phone on the floor and put her on speaker. The boy was dying. It was funny to think that! He’s died like a bazillion times back in his prison world, by his own confession. When you asked him which way to die was the worst, he said that was relative. The first might have been the most stressful because he really thought he was going to end it all.

As a suicide survivor, you knew what it felt like, and you thought, did I look like this? If someone stumbled upon me that day, would they see what I’m seeing now, a kid whom you want to save? You got such a dire desire to save his life, regardless of how he’ll pay you, you stopped listening to the 911 girl. Damon’s gonna be so pissed, you imagined with a smirk. He was dying, you should have just left him there! Such a convenient disaster which solves the Parker problem and takes out the biggest pain in the ass of all.

Then you looked at his face again, and realized that even through his morbid sleep, as he bleeds out with his arms outstretched, he knows no one cares about him. He knows he’ll die without making a single person ever care about him.

“Are you there, miss? Are you resuscitating?”

“Uh, yeah”.

You hit him in the chest.

“Wake up!”

His head moved as you pressed on the jacket again, like he was stubborn to get up.

“You need to do the heart massage, five times, then mouth to mouth”.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m doing that”.

Your wrists were hurting from how much you were trying to get him to breathe.

“Come on, you’re magical moron, you gotta help yourself”.

Aren’t witches supposed to die harder? Or is it already harder than normal? How much blood is Kai Parker supposed to lose until his headstrong soul finally decides it’s not worth it?

You hit him in the chest with two fists, trying to knock through the ribs and straight to the heart.

“What is that sound?” the girl asked. You puffed and hung up on her, threw his phone away. Kai’s eyes swung open and he stared up as his mouth opened slowly in the grimace of pain.

“Hey! Yes! Can you see me?”

Kai’s eyes shifted to you, irises huge like two black moons.

“Don’t die yet”.

“Am I?” he whispered.

You pressed the jacket again, and he moaned. Your hand twitched, fingers spreading in the gesture to comfort, and laid on his shoulder.

“Not yet. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate you”.

He took a very careful breath, like a sip of hot tea, with his mouth.

“Why?”

You thought for a second. Why? Is he stupid? Is he a child? Why? Why do people hate him? When he’s spread here like a fish, sweating through his clothes with freezing blood, white like a sheet, helpless like a kitten, human more than anybody else. Does loathing apply? Where’s the set of moral rules? Does him being a first-class Kai Parker apply?

“By default”, you offered. He looked through you, almost transparent, like a veil with eyes.

“Hold on, dude, this is too embarrassing for you”.

“Agree”.

You felt his hand move next to your thigh, and let your fingers crawl to his palm. It was losing heat.

“Heal yourself”, you pulled his hand and put it on his chest. “Come on, witch. If I had anything, I would help you”.

He turned his head to the side slowly, and the apple in his throat rolled grievously.

“It doesn’t work like that”, you rather read it on his lips than heard.

“Yes, it does. Heal yourself”, you squeezed his hand. There was the sound of wheels screeching in the yard.

He turned his head back and gave you a look from under his brows. The eyes refused to go unblack, and it felt like all the color from his body was draining right through them.

“Don’t let me die, Y/N”.

People were running through the corridor, certainly getting very hyped by spectacular destruction in the house.

“Over here!”

The doctors appeared in the living room, blue jackets and gloves, and you were pulled from Kai, letting go of his hand. You couldn’t see if he blacked out again as they surrounded him, velcros scratching and voices filling the space.

“Are you hurt?” a man appeared before you. You looked at him dumbfounded as he reached for you with a piece of white wool in his fingers. The cut on our forehead stung.

“What the hell happened here?”

“Family dinner”.

______________________________________________________________

“Is he going to make it?”

“If he’s strong”, the nurse replied. The doctor left the emergency room and raced past you, his hands covered in blood like in a movie. You sat on the chair prepped against the wall, and realized you had nothing to do here. It’s not like you’re going to sit here like a girlfriend while they operate on him, or call the time of death. Caring and solidarity is all sweet and good, but let’s not get carried away. This man tried to push you down the stairs like yesterday to create a distraction. He wouldn’t think a second before gutting you if he needed to. That’s how he made it so far, actually.

You left the hospital, walking slowly towards the bus stop and looking at the cloudless blue sky. Then your phone rang, and you realized it was in your back pocket all this time, and Damon was going to be real furious. For a second there you hoped Parker doesn’t make it so that you don’t have to go through mental beating. You tried to think of one way he can still be useful to the Mystic Falls folk and therefore eligible for preserving.

______________________________________________________________

They said, you saved that fucker, you babysit him.

You tried to explain that the majority of work was probably done by the doctors who closed his bleeding wound, and the said fucker’s impeccable will to live no matter what. The guy has that precious survivor’s gene that cannot be pulled out.

But while he’s in the hospital, he’s technically unmonitored, and somebody has to be there when he wakes up. To cuff him or whatever and let Damon know so that they know where he is. With too many Parkers still alive and running around it’s dangerous to let Kai just roam. It’s like, what was the point of all that fuss in the living room? you asked. Exactly, Y/N, Caroline said. Exactly. You were stunned by their bloodthirst. It’s all understandable though – and, at the same time, no. Klaus was free and happy living in Tyler’s fucking house. Katherine was alive and sleeping like a baby somewhere in the old Fell crypt. Rebekah was having the time of her life pretending to be a college student at Whitmore. These were all un-people who commited unspeakable things and hurt all of you personally. Everybody seemed to have come to terms with the fact that they’re here to stay. What made this one different, except eating too much?

You sat in a comfortable armchair in his hospital room like a disgruntled mum, waiting for him to wake up, but the little criminal took his time.

On the day he finally woke up you lost your patience and walked to him, laying in bed. He slept, and slept like a baby, like he was in a witch coma, face peaceful and open, almost good for conversation.

“Here’s one you missed on while you were kicking it in prison”, you said, putting your airpods in his ears. You found it personally quirky that you could torture him with your music while he was out.

You turned the volume down and returned to your chair, listening to the song in your head as the dot on your screen was crawling right.

Summer has come and passed The innocent can never last Wake me up when September ends

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #imagine

160 notes · View notes

msindrad · 4 years

Text

Temporal orientation is a thing

This might be one of the most unusual and hopefully also most interesting pieces of fandom meta you‘ll ever read!

I wanna talk about the perception of time by Manco, Mortimer, and Indio in For a Few Dollars More because I earnestly believe that understanding somebody‘s time perception is fundamental for understanding their modus operandi.

Here are two short paragraphs of theory, which you can freely skip if you want to.

Let’s imagine that there are four dimension of time perception: namely, past, present, future, and eternity (categories above time that can’t be influenced by it). And there are four possible positions of prioritization for each of them in a person’s psyche.

The first position is their strongest element, it’s the time that they live in and for. Their goal, their main element, the very dimension that they unconsciously filter everything else through. The second position is their consciously used instrument – they employ it to be successful in the time dimension from the first category. They’re fully in control of acting in and through it. The third position is the position of lacking control, of susceptibility, uncertainty, concerns, and fears. It’s there, but you can’t do anything about it, but you’re still desperately trying to – either to suppress it or do something impulsively. Whenever something or somebody influences you there, you’re hurt, lost, or troubled. The fourth position is the position of negligence. Whatever is there just doesn’t interest them. It’s unreal, uninteresting, and irrelevant.

With that being said: Manco’s profile is: 1Present 2Eternity 3Future 4Past

Mortimer’s profile is: 1Past 2Future 3Present 4Eternity

And finally Indio’s: 1Eternity 2Future 3Past 4Present

Now, what do I meant by it all, and why and how it can be relevant for understanding these people.

Let’s start with Manco and with the most obvious thing about his profile. He is absolutely uninterested in the Past. He never explains anything through his previous experiences, except for when he is unsatisfied with him and Mortimer not having read Indio’s intentions correctly when he robbed El Paso’s bank. And even then it’s irrelevant, the past is dead, he doesn’t care why they did what they did anymore. The same with Ferdinand – he could’ve punished him for how he didn’t inform him about the two other strangers in town, but the moment is gone, the Past doesn’t matter, and the only thing he needs is being informed right now. When Manco is reminded of his past actions he shrugs it off because why care about what happened? And he himself isn’t exactly somebody who can be defined through his past – he is the man with no name, after all.

He draws all his conclusions from the Present. He is a tactician who gets all his clues from the circumstances he or others find themselves in. Be it his assessment of how crazy his informant is, the fact that his wanted hotel room is temporarily occupied not by him but by Mr. Ramirez, or his observation of the actions of a smart rival provoking his targets. Somebody whose perception isn’t totally dominated by the Present wouldn’t start a card game with their targets just to find out whether they’re lucky today!

And even when Manco rushes to Indio without thinking after he and Mortimer fail to predict his plans correctly, he’s only thinking about the Present: how they’re wrong, how their plan isn’t working, how he must fix everything! He isn’t thinking strategically, only tactically.

Then, Manco’s Future. He has some vague intentions, plans, he feels that this dimension of time is there, but he also feels that it’s uncovered, and so he tries to distract himself from it while simultaneously trying to be kinda ready for it in advance. He wants the reward money but what for? To buy a farm? Does he, though, is he really the type who retires young? He realizes that he needs and wants the money in the moment, but he hasn’t everything planned out. When he is in El Paso he is simply gathering information, he has no clear-cut plan as to how apprehend Indio and his gang. And he can’t really produce any good idea on the spot when Mortimer tells him he should join the band (he simply makes a joke to Mortimer about bringing Indio a bunch of roses, not seriously considering any realistic variants), and his mental habits of a tactician provide a strong contrast to the fact that Mortimer, on the other hand, has a highly positioned, in fact, instrumental Future, but I’ll go back to it in a minute.

Manco is so bad at living in the Future that he, again, makes a really bad decision of stating his intention to collect the reward for Indio and his gang in the future – while talking to Indio himself, and Manco’s only luck then is that Indio doesn’t want to out him to everybody right then and there. What he does operate through in this scene is his Eternity. He states who he is, and who the gang are, disregarding any time constraints. The same thing he does when talking to the bought sheriff at the beginning of the film. He he makes a point that the sheriff is bad while describing his concept of sheriff to him before taking away his star.

The same with Mortimer: when he approaches the Prophet, he wants to have an idea of who Mortimer is, not what he has done or the like. When he listens to Mortimer and assesses him from all sides, he asks him, semi-jokingly but genuinely intrigued: “Tell me, colonel, were you ever young?” Which isn’t really a statement about any concrete Past, obviously he knows that sometime in the Past Mortimer was a young pup. But the question is meant to ask: “Have you always been this focused, this driven, this disciplined?” In other words, is this who you are?

Then, Mortimer.

I love him very deeply, he is one of my all-time favorites, but I can’t deny that he is tactically crippled. He is a brilliant strategist (as his Future is in the second, instrumental position), but, girl, is in he in big trouble whenever he has to face the Present. Both his awkward encounters with Wild, the hunchback, demonstrate it.

Motivated by his loss, he uses all the information he has carefully collected over the years to come up with a plan (the dominant Past), he thinks every major strategic decision through (second Future), but whenever he has to improvise, well. He can only continue the course that somebody else sets for him in the here and now.

When Wild recognizes him in the tavern, Mortimer is lost. Should he try to leave? But he hasn’t finished his soup? Is it already too late? He didn’t think of how they would face each other again when the Future he planned would become the Present for him. And so, he waits for whoever is quicker than him to make the next step for him. It’s literally so when Manco decides to test him outside – he simply returns every impulse.

Mortimer doesn’t know how to treat him then, he is simply planning for the Future (they’ll work together) after having consulted the Past (he actually goes into an archive to try to reconstruct who Manco is). But having gathered all that information he can only follow Manco’s lead when the other provokes him. Because he is tactically short-sighted and basically helpless like a newborn kitten.

A quick contrast – when Manco is caught off guard by Indio and his gang waiting for him to descend that roof, he instantly acts in the Present, assessing the situation: he puts away the bag with all the money. And Mortimer? As soon as he feels somebody’s shoulder below his foot, he is simply panicking.

Even when Indio invites him to try to shoot him after having shot his gun out of his hand, he simply obeys, accepting that there is no choice in the Present, until Manco introduces another choice into the situation and fixes everything so that the fight is fair (second Eternity).

And for Mortimer, Eternity is a blind zone. He is a practical man and seems to have no access to it. Everybody is what they’ve done (Past), and what they could be done with (Future), that’s it. But he has no idea what to do in the goalless Present because he has no guiding Eternity.

Finally, Indio.

He has no relationship with the Present whatsoever. He is so detached from it that he actually catapults himself from it by smoking weed to not be overwhelmed by it. (He also does it to block his weak Past from nagging at him, which only makes sense given his more than unpleasant biography).

And he actively disregards what others might think of him in the Present, e.g. his public inspections of Manco or how he doesn’t bother to explain his thought processes to Nino before sending him to kill off one of others from his gang. It’s Chuchillio who acts in the Present for him instead when he shoots off the tip of Manco’s cigar; and from what we’ve seen of others, e.g. of Wild, they all compensate for Indio’s detachment from the Present, it’s their primary function. And Indio, well, he, like Mortimer, makes plans using his second Future (he always foresees things), but he bases them on his Eternity.

First time he sees Manco, he knows he’s a bounty hunter, and assessing him from this standpoint of Eternity, he integrates him in their robbery. If you listen to his speeches closely, e.g. the speech in the church, he always leads everything to what things are but also what they should be. He rhetorically asks his gang whether they think a carpenter can’t make good money, and also how safes work; he talks about how the people of Agua Caliente are unfriendly to strangers.

I would even argue that he keeps the pocket watch of Mortimer‘s sister not because of any sentimental value attached to it (that’s the perspective of the Past, which is adopted by Mortimer), but because it has significantly influenced his understanding of Eternity, and is now a part of his self-image and a reminder about certain hurtful truths.

That’s my take on it. I would love to hear your thoughts! Also, if somebody is interested in my opinion about the whole thing in the GBU, Justified, or something else, let me know. Cheers!

#the dollars trilogy #for a few dollars more #meta #manco #the man with no name #colonel douglas mortimer #douglas mortimer #el indio #spaghetti western #sergio leone

43 notes · View notes

hitbythunder · 4 years

Text

The Roll of Thunder -3

A Thor x Reader and later some Loki x Reader story

Summary: After Frigga’s and Loki’s deaths, Thor struggles with his grief and blames himself for the loss. Barely able to manage his emotions, the god helps the other heros on Earth so that he can stay away from Asgard - a place which only reminds him of his pain. When the team acquires a golden sphere from a mission, however, Thor is forced to deal with his past. She has black hair, pale skin and a pair of emerald eyes which haunt the god in his dreams. Could she be Loki?

Warnings: non-con in later chapters

~º*º*º~

Against his better knowledge, Thor stepped forward, his fists clenched and his face dark, and when he passed the low coffee-table the woman half-jumped smoothly behind the large arm-chair next to the couch so that he couldn't grab her easily. “You shouldn't walk on this earth as your whole existence is an insult to my brother!” It was barely a whisper, a mere low growl full of anger and Thor wasn't sure if she understood his words. But from the way she trembled she seemed to grasp his threat and the god was pleased to see pure dread in her eyes. Suddenly the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway and quickly as a cat the woman ran over there to hide behind Steve the very moment he entered the living room, her tiny figure vanishing completely behind the larger man. The Captain was confused for a second as the female rushed behind him but then he looked over to Thor and knew leaving them alone was a mistake. The big blonde glared at them, every muscle of his body tensed, stretching the dark-blue t-shirt he wore to the maximum. Even the air seemed to become dry and crackling because of his fury and Steve shoved the little woman further behind him.

“Thor, I suggest you leave or this will become ugly. I don't want to fight you but if you don't calm down you give me no choice.” The Captain said sternly , hoping that the god was open to reason and would regain his senses. “Please, Thor!”

Breathing heavily he stood in place like a column, his piercing blue eyes sparkling dangerously and he even thought about summoning Mjolnir.

But then what? Fight the Captain, my friend, who is unarmed at the moment? No! Thor thought to himself before he made up his mind to leave it at that. Slowly the tension in his body declined and he turned around to stomp off towards the elevator. When the metal doors closed again, Steve sighed in relief and turned to the shivering being behind him. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left!" He said and hoped that Natasha wouldn't find out somehow. "Jarvis, where is Thor now?"

"He is currently in his room, trashing some furniture." The AI replied instantly in its usual calm voice. A look of concern and confusion crossed the Captain's face because he could not grasp the reason why the god detested this woman. She didn't do anything to him but he desires to kill her...

"I guess we should stay here on this floor then." The kitchen area was taboo for now as it was on the same floor as Thor's room.

***

When Natasha came back to the tower, she hurried towards the living room because Jarvis had informed her about what happened in her absence. Steve was watching some TV while the Kitten curled up beside him on the couch and slept peacefully. Not wanting to wake her, the red-head sat silently down beside Steve and whispered: "Thanks for protecting her but next time you better pee yourself before you let them out of your sight." Steve almost chuckled aloud. "So you know. Well, sorry about that. But I just don't get it why Thor acts so hostile. I mean look at her!" Both observed the sleeping female next to them, her breathing steadily and her expression soft. "Why are you protecting her?" the Captain asked all of a sudden and Natasha hesitated before she replied. "She reminds me of myself before I was trained to become an assassin. All childish innocence had been taken from me and afterwards was only pain and fear until I didn't feel even those anymore." Natasha stared at the floor while Steve pondered over her words, the quiet muttering from the TV being the only sound in the room.

***

The next evening, heavy raindrops splashed against the large windows of Stark Tower, as if the heavens were weeping for the Norse god who wouldn't share a single tear. Jane had called. Due to her work she was in New York and had wished to meet with him – talk about things. Jane always wanted to talk, to discuss and to analyze matters and Thor loathed it. But he had agreed and about two hours later, the brunette exited the elevator on his floor. He welcomed her nicely, as did the other Avengers, but they didn't kiss before both vanished in Thor's room. Natasha and the Kitten were in the kitchen preparing some food when Jane rushed past them over an hour later, her eyes watery.

"Now we know why it's storming outside. Looks like Thor ditched her." Tony commented when she was gone while Natasha only shrugged. Her teammates love affairs were none of her concern. Outside a wild thunderstorm roared, darkening the night-sky.

This night the little female could not sleep because of the weather, being too nervous because she knew it was him who caused the thunder. This woman named Jane seemed to be his mate, he was gentle to her but even she ran from him, crying and frustrated. But why is he so gruesome to me? The little Kitten wondered before sleep took hold of her finally. Also in her dreams, the blue eyed blonde pursued her, chasing after her with his hammer and in pure fury, causing her to revive the moment of agony when his lightning hit her. The rest of the night she was befallen by a strong fever, sweating every last drop of water out of her body.

The next morning, Natasha shook the woman gently to wake her, a worried expression on her face. "Kitten, are you alright? You are feverish..." she assessed when she touched her heated forehead and decided to let Bruce know. "Rest some more, I'll be right back." But Bruce couldn't do more than to take her temperature and advice more rest.

"I won't risk side effects because of some medicament. We don't know how her body reacts to them."

***

It was lunch when Natasha went to see the Kitten again and luckily, her fever was gone. “So how is she?” Steve asked worriedly when the red-head returned into the kitchen while Tony sipped his coffee. “Completely fine. What ever it was, it's gone.” she answered and opened the fridge to get some food for the other woman. “Perfect, I wouldn't want her to miss the party tonight!” Tony commented joyfully from the side, meeting Steve's puzzled gaze. “A party?” “Yes, we had some severe missions the past weeks – all successfully completed – and that demands for some serious celebration!” the scientist cheered. “For once you have a point.” Natasha admitted because she was definitely in the mood for some merriment – and she needed an occasion to wear her new dress anyway. “But is it wise to have Kitten among a bunch of strange people?”

“She's already living with us, who could be worse?” Tony retorted and walked towards the elevator. “What about Thor?” Steve interrupted but the billionaire only shrugged casually. “We'll keep him and Kitty apart or we could disguise her as your evil twin-sister!” Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes while Natasha sighed. “Thor is not stupid, Tony.” “Well he has his moments … Anyways, don't worry, it will be great!” Tony replied and vanished inside the elevator.

***

Several pearls of sweat glided down his massive body as he moved quickly across the training grounds, swinging his hammer wildly. In order to maintain his godly physique and his honed skills but also because he loved it, Thor trained every day for at least four hours, sometimes even more. Additionally, it proved to be a successful means to calm his temper and distract his mind, which he needed direly after his talk with Jane yesterday. She had accused him of neglecting her, having her wait for two years after his first visit on Midgard and now that he was living with the Avengers he avoids her still. Sadly, these reproaches were merely the hurtful truth and the bitter end of their relationship was overdue. Thus the god told her to leave and never come back for him. Of course it hurt that they would walk separate ways now but Thor was also relieved, had this relationship been more a burden than a blessing of late. After realizing this simple fact, Thor's mood was bright today and he didn't feel the need to moon over her. Thus he trained joyfully, each swing of the hammer with such vigor that if he let go it would crash through several walls. This training reminded him of Asgard, where he had often sparred with his friends in the sands, sweating and laughing.

The fond memories brought a small smile onto the gods lips when he took the elevator to his floor, panting and exhausted. He was in dire need of a shower and the prospect of cold water rushing down his hot skin seemed incredibly marvelous. But when he entered the bath next to his room, his mood darkened abruptly when a small woman stood in front of the tub and Thor was stunned by the sight. A white towel wrapped around her slim figure was all that concealed her curves while her slender legs were bare for the god to behold. With her wet black hair combed back neatly and her emerald eyes locked to his, she resembled the God of Mischief more than ever.

By the Nine, she looks exactly like him...

Paralyzed by her fear she didn't move and stared up at the blonde giant who blocked the way outside. Intently she watched every twitch, every reaction of him, hoping to find an opportunity to slip past his large body. She noted the pearls of sweat on his skin, causing his shirt to stick to his broad chest and rippled abdomen, his heavy breathing and the tension in his muscles because of the training. Thor was terribly confused by the emotions rushing through him right now. On the one hand, there was grief and anger for being so bluntly reminded of his deceased brother, additionally to the fear that she could be one of Loki's tricks. But on the other hand, standing half-naked in front of him, the towel pressing her small breasts together to form a lovely décolleté in which a pearl of water vanished, she was a truly arousing sight – too arousing for Thor as he could already feel her bewitching effect on his lower parts. A minx just like Loki... he thought to himself, remembering how gracious and elegant his brother had been, how beautiful compared to him. Secretly, Thor had always admired Loki's slim yet trained figure, combined with those long slender legs and those honed features. The second prince had been the champion amongst the ladies in Asgard but he didn't make as much use of his royal position as Thor did in order to bed lovely maidens.

Suddenly and without warning, the little one rushed forward and tried to get past him but Thor reacted in time and caught her by the left arm, yanking her back before him. “You... Enough of this deceit! Tell me, what are you!” His voice was a low hiss and he leaned down to intimidate her further, their faces only inches apart. Not able to withstand his staring, she turned her head and averted her gaze but Thor grabbed her chin with his free hand and forced her to meet his piercing blue eyes again. “Tell me!” he urged with more anger in his voice, his grip on her arm and chin tightening, causing her to shrink back in fear. “P..please...” At first, the god couldn't believe his ears when he heard her voice, but her lips had actually moved to form a single word – her first word and it was a pleading. Unintentionally and as stunned as he was, Thor loosened his hold on her for a split second and the little woman made use of it and quickly slipped past the larger man. He tried to grab her in the hallway but she was beyond reach and then vanished into Natasha's room. Damned... While he was under the shower, Thor decided not to tell the others that she had spoken to him because he wanted to ask her some important questions first and alone. He tilted his head back and ravished the cold water running down his face while he thought about how to proceed before his mind drifted off to other topics – tonight's party amongst them.

***

The three floors of the living room were crowded with chatting guests and the atmosphere was relaxed and merry when Thor exited the elevator to join the ongoing party. Dressed in a casual pair of black jeans combined with a grey shirt and a crimson jacked on top, he looked very handsome and more of a gentlemen than a warrior. For once, his hair was combed and tied back loosely – his mother would be happy to see him dolled up like that. Several ladies smiled enticingly at him when he made his way towards the bar, flattering the god's ego just like the ladies did in Asgard when he was a young prince.

“Do we know each other, Sir?” Tony quipped and eyed the god beside him, whom he had rarely seen in such elegant attire. “Look at you! Dandified from head to toes. Is that cologne I smell on you?” Tony added and Thor chuckled, swaying the drink in his hands before he retorted in a half-serious tone. “My punches will hurt no less in this garments.” “Oh come on, that was a compliment! And you have to admit that you look ravishing – not as much as me though.” With a cocky smirk, the billionaire sipped at his strong drink when Steve joined them. “Where's Pepper? I haven't seen her in a while.” “Well, running her own company now, Pepper has a tight schedule. That's the side effect of success I guess." Tony explained almost melancholy. "At last we agree on something." Thor put in and Steve dared to dig some more. "I've heard that Jane is the best in her field of science.." "Indeed. And now she can focus on her work entirely." With one gulp the god emptied his glass and put it down onto the bar. "And I shall have more time for other merriments!" Thor added and smiled widely at them while Tony put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"That's my man! Where's the Whiskey?" "Another fruitless attempt to best me in drinking?" Thor chuckled in amusement, had none of his friends managed to drink him under the table yet. Midgardian alcohol was far less potent than the one served on Asgard. "Hell yes! And no pretty lady can stop me from my mission!" Tony boasted, eager to win this time, while he refilled their glasses. The Captain could only smile at Stark's optimism but then he noted two figures appearing on the upper floor of the living room.

"And what about those two?" he said, causing the other men to follow his gaze to the top of the stairs, their eyes widening at the sight. Natasha looked stunning in her black and white dress, which emphasized her curvy yet trained body and to soften the outfit her fiery red hair was falling in large locks. And the woman beside her was at least her equal. The three men were surprised what drastic change the right choice of clothes plus a little make up could achieve. The Kitten wore a dark-blue sundress, which was tight at the top but more loose from the hips downward, with a white ribbon around her waist matching her pumps. Her black hair was floating freely down her shoulders, the tips framing her emerald eyes and pink lips.

"Looks like Kitten has become a tiger." Tony whispered to Steve when the two ladies graciously descended the staircase and walked towards them. "You may pick up your jaw from the floor, Tony." Natasha quipped before she walked around the bar to make her special 'vodka-romanoff' – a hefty drink which could easily knockout the strongest man. "I'm not used to some tight clothes around your body except your leather suit, forgive me the staring." The billionaire replied casually and gestured her to make him a drink too while Steve tried to occupy Thor's attention in a conversation to keeping him distracted. But the god was only half listening to his friend, shooting quick glances over to the black-haired woman beside him whenever possible. As soon as Natasha was done behind the bar she decided to search for Bruce and took the Kitten along, not wanting to leave her around the guys alone. Thor sighed silently and engaged more into the conversation with Steve. I need her to be alone...

During the evening, the Kitten noticed how Natasha flirted with the friendly scientist, at first only subtle but after another drink her attempts became rather obvious and the Kitten decided to give them some privacy. Thus she strolled through the crowd of guests towards a large window in a more quiet corner of the room. She had refrained from drinking as Natasha had advised her, which allowed her sharp senses to detect the man approaching her. He won't hurt me in front of all those strangers? She thought to herself when she turned to face the tall god behind her. As soon as he had noticed that she was alone, Thor crossed the room. He almost hurried over to her because he couldn't let this opportunity slip.

“You owe me an answer, little one.” He kept his voice low but there were definitely determination and harshness in it. “What are you? And more importantly, do you know a man named Loki?” he added and looked deep into her green eyes as if boring into her soul with his own piercing blue orbs. All he received as an answer was a shake of her head – referring to his second question he supposed. “Good.” Although that didn't mean that she was not a creation of his brother, Thor felt a little bit relieved, which the Kitten sensed too. However, the god wondered why she didn't run from him this time like she had earlier today and assumed that she felt safe because of the guests present, knowing that Thor wouldn't hurt her now. Clever little thing...he thought when he noted the sudden change in her expressions and color of complexion. Her pale skin seemed almost as white as the ribbon of the dress and she put her hand on the glass to steady herself, her gaze blurry and averted from him now. Then she brought up her free hand to touch her head as if she was in pain and it was that exact moment when Thor noted the few small golden scales on her upper arm. Have my eyes missed them when I met her in the bathroom?

“Help...” she whispered, interrupting the god's trail of thoughts before she collapsed in front of him.

#thor x reader #loki x reader #the roll of thunder #fanfic #romance and drama

7 notes · View notes

generaldisdainn · 4 years

Text

Four of a Kind

AO3 Link

Rating: MA (for eventual smut)

Summary: After accepting a job as the head of marketing for a local animal shelter, Anna finds herself in a new city in need of a place to live. Luckily, 3 guys know just the place.

Previous chapter

Chapter 4

Kristoff was eating a bowl of cereal when his phone buzzed. It was the group chat: Loft Hoes.

“Isn’t that like, demeaning to women or something?” Kristoff had asked the group after Sven brought up the name for their loft group chat. It had been “loft bros” for as long as he could remember, but Sven proposed the change after Anna was added to the chat. “Besides, I’m not even a hoe!”

“I’m a hoe!” Sven proudly announced.

“I love it,” Anna exclaimed. “Let’s do it.” And so the name stuck.

Anna had sent a message to the group. “Hey, I left my laptop at home and I need it for work. :(((( Can someone plz plz plz bring it to me? It should be on the kitchen counter.”

Kristoff sighed and typed out a response.

“I got it.”

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 Thank you!!!!!” was Anna’s reply.

“Absolute legend,” Sven sent.

Kristoff ate the rest of his cereal, grabbed her laptop bag, and headed out to her work.

Anna sent him the address. She worked at an animal shelter just a few minutes downtown, so it wasn’t out of the way or anything. He was actually excited to see what her office was like. Maybe he would even catch a glimpse of her at work.

He walked in and was greeted by a gentle smile and a warm welcome from the receptionist.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Hi, I just have something to drop off for Anna Arendelle.”

As soon as he said that, he heard his name being called. He looked up, and there was Anna, bounding down the steps that he assumed lead up to offices. She seemed so happy to see him. It made his heart swell.

“Oh my god, thank you! You’re such a lifesaver,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a quick hug before grabbing the laptop from the table.

Kristoff was too shocked to do anything except melt into her just a bit. The hug was brief. He didn’t have time to hug her back, but he felt warmth and light for a moment before it quickly dissipated when she pulled away.

“Since you’re here, do you want to look around? We just got a new litter of puppies and they're so cute. You can see them if you want. I mean, only if you want to, I don’t want to force you or anything, especially if you have anything you need to do-”

“Calm down, feistypants,” he teased. “That sounds really nice.”

A week or so ago he probably would have declined her offer. He would have made up some excuse as to why he couldn’t stick around and head back home. But since he stopped trying so hard with her, he’d grown to enjoy her presence. He genuinely wanted her to show him around.

Anna grinned and bounced up on her toes. It was nice to see her in her element. At home she tended to second guess herself; seeing her here for the first time, she seemed more confident and self-assured than ever. He liked this side of her, he decided.

Anna headed into the main room and motioned for Kristoff to follow her. “Come on!”

She brought him out into a large room with little cages and pens where rescued cats sat and meowed at passersbys.

“These are all of our cats and kittens that are ready for adoption, but we have plenty more who still need shots and assessments and all that good stuff before they’re ready to be out here on the floor,” Anna explained. She leaned down and wagged her finger between the bars of one of the enclosures. A tiny kitten swatted at her playfully. “This guy’s my favorite. Don’t tell the others,” she joked.

Kristoff leaned down to take a look at the little kitten and smiled. He was sweet. His eyes were warm and friendly, with a hint of mischievous behind them. “I can see why you like him,” Kristoff agreed.

Anna led him back through a door marked ‘Employees Only’. “It’s okay, you’re with me,” she said with a smile when she noticed his slight hesitation. She brought him into a small room, and he was immediately greeted with small yaps and barks. Nails skidded on the linoleum as the puppies ran to see who was at the door.

“Hi, guys!” Anna cooed, getting down on her knees to pet the little babies. “These guys were found all alone in a box in the middle of a park. The mom never showed up, so we’ve been bottle feeding them and making sure they’re good and socialized, yes we have, yes we have!” she said, ruffling one of the puppies’ ears and speaking to it in a baby tone.

He joined Anna on the floor and laughed as one of the tiny puppies scampered up into his lap. Their knees were touching, and Kristoff tried to convince himself that he didn’t feel something between them.

“That one likes you,” Anna decided as the puppy began to lick his face.

Kristoff smiled at her statement and watched her as she threw a ball for the puppies. Her smile was radiant and her laugh sent a surge of warmth through his body.

At first, he thought she was only nice around him to secure her place in the loft. But he had soon come to realize that it wasn’t any sort of act. She was just a nice person. She brought home cookies from work and stopped by the store on the way home if she knew they were running low on something. She watered Ryder’s plants when he forgot (and he forgot a lot), let Sven sing as loudly as he wanted around the house, and was a better person to Kristoff than he thought he deserved.

Outside of his small circle of friends and family, Kristoff wasn’t used to “nice” for the sake of being nice. He was used to “nice” if someone wanted something from him or “nice” because people were scared of him. He was used to contempt. He was used to betrayal. But Anna was kind and thoughtful and sweet for all of the right reasons. He knew that as he watched the way her eyes lit up when he picked up one of the puppies and held it close to his chest.

“My family used to have a dog that looked like these guys,” Kristoff started suddenly.

Anna looked at him with kind eyes that urged him to continue.

“He was a good dog. I grew up with him. I don’t know why my parents didn’t get another dog after he died.”

Anna nodded thoughtfully. “My childhood pet was a cat. Poor thing- I used to chase her around with my sister. I thought she was mean, but I’d be pissed too if some toddler was always running after me. We both mellowed out when we got older, and soon she was, like, my best friend. I loved that cat so much.”

“Is that why you wanted to go into this kind of work?” Kristoff asked.

“I think so. That, and...” she hesitated, suddenly looking down toward the ground. Her nose scrunched in concentration.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kristoff offered, suddenly worried he had said something wrong.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, offering him an easy smile. “After we—my sister and I—moved away from our parents, that cat was always there for me. She slept with me and cuddled with me when I cried. I kinda realized how beautiful animals can be and how much they can mean to us.” Anna stroked one of the puppies thoughtfully as she continued. “I really love working with animals because...I feel like I’m giving animals a chance to be loved, and a chance to love people back.” She paused for a moment. “Sorry, that’s probably more than you wanted to know.”

“No, don’t be sorry. That’s a really nice story,” Kristoff said, unsure of what else to say.

“Thanks,” Her smile was soft and almost sad, but the look in her eyes swam with appreciation for his kind words. “What about you? Why did you go into construction?”

Kristoff laughed then. “I didn’t really seek out construction work, it just kinda happened. I needed a job out of high school and the pay was good, so I took it, and I’ve been in it ever since.”

Anna nodded. “That’s totally fair. You knew what you wanted and you went after it.”

Kristoff smiled. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. I’m right about everything,” she teased. She got to her feet.

“Wow, your modesty is inspiring,” he said, rising to stand as well and playfully nudging her.

“As much as I love this, I do have to get back to work,” Anna sighed. She seemed disappointed to be leaving him and he found himself feeling the same. “I’ll walk you out though?” She said it like a question.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” he replied.

He lingered in the lobby, not wanting to leave and wanting to hug her, to tell her how much he enjoyed her company and how he wanted to come back again sometime or maybe watch a movie in the loft tonight or-

“Thanks for my laptop,” she said, placing a hand on his arm and smiling earnestly at him. “And for seeing the puppies with me.”

“Are you kidding me? Thank you - those puppies were the highlight of my week.”

Anna laughed. “You can come back anytime and I’ll let you back there.”

Kristoff smiled. He hoped she meant it.

He felt soft and light as he walked out to his car, full of something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had the unmistakable feeling of butterflies in his stomach and the lingering feeling of her hand gently resting on his arm. Kristoff shut the door of his car and placed his head on the steering wheel. He was fucked.

#Kristanna #kristanna fanfic #frozen fanfic #fanfiction #frozen

28 notes · View notes