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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

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To Have and To Heal (Part 1)

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Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

"Søta, you have to go to school."

"Nei! I don't want to papa- I wanna go with you!"

Martin draws up his dad voice, pointing a finger at her. "Atla Marie Ødegaard, you're going to class and that's final."

Being a single dad is the most challenging role Martin Ødegaard has to play. Captaining Arsenal has its ups and downs, don't get him wrong- but nothing is more complicated than a five year old hell bent on eating a bowl of skittles for breakfast. And bath time? Forget it; he'd rather get red carded and ejected from a match in the first five minutes than have to wrangle her into the tub to wash off the day's dirt.

Atla crosses her tiny arms over her chest, blonde curls bouncing as she shakes her head. "I'm going with you papa. I'm not going to school."

Martin sighs, tipping his head back with his eyes closed. They have this argument, or one similar, nearly every morning. Today it’s bargaining to tag along to training and tomorrow it will probably be Atla bargaining for ten more minutes of sleep. Is it too much to ask for one easy day? If his daughter isn't begging to come with him to training, she's refusing to brush her teeth or wear what he's picked out for her. Every day there's some sort of battle… but that's parenthood.

“You have to go.”

“I don’t want to! Please let me come with you papa.” The slightly pouted lip that accompanies her request nearly has Martin folding. He would jump through flaming hoops above a pit of hungry crocodiles to make his daughter happy, but he simply can’t always give her what she wants, when she wants it.

Knowing he has exactly one card he can play to prevent her impending tearful meltdown, Martin sighs.

"You've already missed too many days this month, Attie. I'll get in trouble if you don't go, and I won't be able to play if I'm in trouble. You wanna watch papa play this weekend, don't you?"

Atla tugs on her pigtail, frowning at her half finished plate of pancakes. She's a spitting image of her mother- right down to her nose and her fine, light lashes that brush her cheeks. The only bit of him that she's inherited is her fair hair and bright eyes- everything else is wholly her mum. Martin doesn’t mind that- he misses her, and mornings like this only make the ache in his chest worse.

"Okay papa," Atla murmurs finally, much to Martin’s relief. "But when I get home can we play keepy ups?"

"Of course we can, søta. Papa will always play keepy ups with you. Now go get your bag, make sure you have your book to return to the library."

"Okay pa!" Atla hops off her chair, grinning as she comes around the island to wrap herself around Martin’s leg in a hug. “I love you pa! You’re my favorite pa ever.”

Martin’s heart turns to mush, “I love you too, lille venn. Hurry up before you make us late again.”

Raising her on his own is tough, but he wouldn't trade moments like this for all the wealth in the world. Martin loves her smile more than anything.

Martin’s focus shifts to packing his own lunch while Atla bounces up the steps to the second floor to grab her things. His lunch is far less glamorous than his daughters, lacking the sandwich cut in the shape of a star (the only way she’ll eat one these days) and the cherry tomatoes cut perfectly in half. Instead, he shoves a protein bar from the back of the cupboard into his bag, along with two pieces of toast leftover from breakfast. It’ll do, he supposes.

"Pa- did you pack me a kake?" Martin smiles and hands her a bright pink lunch box of her own before he bends at the waist to pick her up.

"Yes Attie I did, I wouldn't forget the best part would I?" Martin shifts to prop her on his hip, smattering her cheeks with kisses until she giggles and shoves her little fists at his chest.

"Pa, stop! Stop-" Atla cuts herself off with a squeal, tucking her head to Martin's shoulder. He laughs, smoothing a hand over her hair. His daughter is beautiful, just like her mum. If he concentrates hard enough, he can move past the hurt and remember how similar her laugh was to Atla’s, or how she always sang her to sleep at night.

Martin wasn’t ever supposed to do this alone. He had a partner at his side, someone he loved with his whole heart and wanted to spend every waking moment with. He dreamed of a family with his wife at his side, with a bundle of children and animals to occupy their time with.

But no one can escape fate. No one can live forever, and no one can have everything they dream of. These are fundamental truths, though Martin struggles to accept them.

Martin's smile grows wistful, his demeanor softened by nostalgia. Atla frowns, in tune with his sudden mood swing. "What's wrong pa?" She reaches up to touch his lips like she's trying to make his smile reappear. "Why aren't you happy?"

"You look like your mum today," he says simply, pushing past the lump in his throat. Atla grins, wrapping her arms around Martin's neck for a hug. This is part of their morning routine too, as integral and unmissable as breakfast.

"You say that every morning papa."

"I know I do, Attie. I don't want you to forget her." The last part is mumbled, more for himself than the toddler in his arms. She'll bounce back- she only knew her mum for three years, not ten like Martin had. It is proving much harder for him to get over their loss than for Atla. For quick flashes, sometimes he resents Atla’s mom for leaving him so soon. Then he realizes almost immediately how foolish he is for even thinking such a thing.

"I won't forget mama, I promise. No more sad." Atla possesses far too much emotional empathy for such a young girl, though Martin is extremely grateful for it. He isn’t sure he would get through mornings like this without her.

Martin pulls a false smile onto his face, one that becomes genuine when Atla smiles at him, too. She won't remember her mum in a few years and that's okay. It's Martin's job to teach her about her mum down the road, and that's a job he takes seriously.

"Good. Now let's get you to school before they call me asking where you are again."

**********

Truthfully, you love your job. You don't mind that you're the designated early arrival teacher; you're an early riser anyway and this allows you to connect with and mentor students beyond your own classroom. You also don’t mind the extra money on your paycheck thanks to the few extra hours you work before and after classes each day.

Becoming a teacher was in the cards for you since the moment you set foot in a school as a toddler. Out of all your friends, you were always the one offering to tutor them or set up study groups for exams. The idea of molding young minds and you strive to reach as many as possible. You teach a class of fifteen seven year olds, each of whom you love with your whole heart. It's nice to touch the lives of more students of every age, regardless of how small the impact may be.

Today you have a dozen kids in the gymnasium, aged from four to ten. They mostly pair off in their usual groups, as they do most mornings. This early, your job is easy. Most of the children are still half asleep or actually asleep on one of the cots in the corner, like six year old Rose. She loves her morning naps and you envy her on the ones after a late night of lesson planning.

Other kids play with toys or kick about a football, laughing quietly while being conscious of their sleepy peers. Satisfied that no one is intent on causing trouble this morning, you return to your planner until your calm is interrupted by a shriek of your name. A grin instantly splits your face and you brace yourself for the small body that slams into your legs moments later.

You bend down to return her hug, "Good morning Atla! Thank you for the hug, you're the best hugger I've ever met."

Martin Ødegaard comes strolling in a few paces after his daughter. Upon seeing her wrapped around your legs he smiles, tapping her shoulder and convincing her to let go with a single look. "Good morning Miss Sunshine," he drawls, his accent notably thicker than normal as he addresses you by the nickname your students have given you. "She's got loads of energy this morning, so good luck."

"I'm sure I can handle her, don't worry too much. I've got coloring books-"

"Coloring books!" Atla shrieks, earning raised brows from the pair of you as she runs off to find them. Children can be simple creatures, requiring little to keep them entertained. Atla, you’ve learned, is one of those children, preferring creative, collaborative activities that involve as many of her peers as possible. You and Martin share a knowing smile when she offers a second box of crayons to a boy sitting near her, pointing to her own page before sliding it between them to share.

"She does love being crafty," Martin laughs, hands in his pockets. "Anyway, I hope your day is less chaotic than mine is shaping up to be. I'll be back at four to pick her up, I'm assuming you'll be here?"

"As always.” You tip your head to see around Martin’s broad frame, scanning the room to ensure the growing quiet isn’t anything you need to be concerned about. Once you determine you’re in the clear, your gaze returns to where Martin had been standing a minute before, only to notice him heading for the door.

“Oh, Mr. Ødegaard- one moment please."

Martin pauses at the threshold, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

You smile at Martin, shaking your head. "Mr. Ødegaard-"

"Please, you can call me Martin, I've told you a thousand times." Normally, you have a strict rule about calling parents by their first names when children are within earshot. Parents generally don’t mind, understanding why you do it, but Martin insists on being on a first name basis… Which you can’t exactly say you are opposed to.

"Martin." Your face heats when he grins, nodding in approval. "There's a permission slip that needs signing if you have a moment."

Martin smacks his forehead, "that's right! I completely forgot- you're touring the stadium this week, right?"

"Yes, we are thanks to you!" You beam at him, "my kids are all excited. None of them have stopped chattering about it since they learned about football in PE- and they're excited for a maths lesson while they're there, which is a feat in itself."

You have no idea how he managed to secure a backstage tour of the Emirates stadium for nearly a hundred students, but you aren’t about to complain. Field trips are rarely this exciting, so this is an opportunity you won’t miss.

"Attie said everyone's looking forward to it, I'm just glad I could help make it happen for you lot." Martin runs a hand through his hair, looking like he wants to say more on the subject, though he shakes his head. "Right I need to get to work, if I could sign that?"

"Oh- of course!" You hand over the paper you're holding, watching as Martin grabs a purple pen off your desk and signs on the line. He hands it back with a charming smile, hiking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Duty calls."

You mimic the gesture, "ditto. Have a good day Martin."

Martin's smile grows impossibly wider as he waves to Atla, who returns the gesture and screams her own goodbye. The energetic blonde is one of your more behaved pupils, despite only having Martin to raise her.

Perhaps it's because of her absent mum that you've grown so attached to her so quickly; whatever the case, she's easily one of your favorites. That isn't to say you don't love each student in your class. You treat each like you would your own child, though some you naturally bond with more than others. Such is human nature, and as long as you don't blatantly show said favoritism, it isn't an issue.

"Miss Sunshine? Is it snack time yet?"

You crouch down to be level with the student tugging at your pant leg and ruffle his short brown locks. "I don't know, is it? What time do you have snacks Billy?"

"Umm…" the young man taps his chin thoughtfully, foot moving in sync. "Oh! Ten thirty."

"And right now it's what time?" You nod to the clock on the wall, waiting for him to try. Telling time is one lesson you're aware he's currently working on in class, and you'll use every available opportunity to tutor students. Teaching moments can be found anywhere if one knows where to look and how to interpret situations creatively so kids don't get bored.

"Uhh… it's seven… six?"

You nod along with him, remaining encouraging, "You're half right, it's seven something. Try again- remember the big numbers aren't the minutes, they're the hours. You have to count by fives, remember?"

Billy nods, face scrunched in concentration. "It's… seven thirty!"

"There you go! Great job- that's exactly right! So that means it isn’t quite snack time just yet. Why don’t you go color with Attie and see if that makes you less hungry?"

“Oh- okay! Thank you Miss Sunshine!” You gratefully accept the hug he offers you, then shoo him off to play while the rest of the kids arrive.

Eventually the clock marks eight thirty (which Billy happily informs you of mere seconds before the bell), and you usher the students to their respective classrooms before making your way to your own room.

You've done your best to create a comfortable, fun environment that fosters learning in all types of kids. There's beanbags they can choose to use instead of traditional chairs. Rows of books in all sizes and subjects line a shelf in the cozy corner, piled high with blankets for students to curl up in. Growing up you hated the harsh white lighting in most schools, which is why you have a few floor lamps scattered through the room to provide a level of warmth. Your prize bin is overflowing with bouncy balls and other little trinkets for kids to earn through academic means or through acts of kindness.

You sigh, taking a seat at your desk and mentally preparing for the day ahead. It's been a long week and you're definitely glad it's Friday; going out with the girls tonight will be a blessing.

**********

"Friday night is date night lads, you know that! I can't skip it again or my girl will have my head."

"Martin, you've said no to us for the last month! Just a few hours mate, come on!" It’s true, Martin hasn’t gone out with the team in ages. Being the captain means he knows that he should or he risks unrest within his team, but he’s been consistently putting family first which most of the lads respect.

Martin shakes his head at Kieran, "Atla loves film nights right now. She won't be little forever Kieran, I need to spend as much time with her as I can before she gets to that stage where she wants nothing to do with me. Besides, I'm not even sure my sitter-"

Martin frowns when his phone chimes inside his locker. He pulls it out to see a message from his usual babysitter, Beth, stating that she is indeed available tonight. Kieran must have stolen Martin’s phone while he was in the shower and fired off a message to her in an attempt to convince him which is, regrettably, working in Kieran’s favor.

If Martin is being honest, he could use a break. He's felt worn out lately and the idea of letting loose for a few hours seems like the perfect remedy to months worth of pent up stress. Doesn't mean he has to tell Kieran that though.

"Cheeky bastard," Martin mumbles, glaring as Kieran beams.

"Now you have no excuse. Two pints! You cannae say no!"

"You buying my pints?"

Kieran waves a hand, "Yeah sure mate, if that's what it takes to get you out with us!"

"Fine, two pints! But that's all you get, then I'm going home to Atla." Kieran's fist pumps the empty air, clearly excited to have convinced Martin. He jogs off to tell the other boys the good news, and Martin texts Beth to confirm what time she'll need to be over. He still intends to pick Atla up from school, so Beth shouldn't need to be over for more than a few hours later that night.

Martin checks his watch. If he leaves now instead of waiting to be the last out like he usually is, he could pick Atla up a touch early and maybe still squeeze in a movie.

After a quick word with Kieran, Martin grabs his things and jogs to his car. Atla's school isn't more than fifteen minutes from the training grounds, which is partly the reason why he enrolled her there in the first place. Of course, the excellent ratings and reviews he read pages of didn't hurt either.

If there is one thing Martin is certain of, it is that he will do whatever it takes to provide his daughter with the best possible life she can have. Whether that be driving her to a private school across town or dipping out early from training to bring her lunch, he'll always make sure she knows she's loved and has the world at her feet.

Feigning a doctor's appointment that he apologetically forgot he'd made, Martin convinces the front office staff that he needs to take Atla home early. He waits in the lobby, scrolling on his phone until he hears her melodic voice.

"Hi papa! Why are we going home so early?”

Martin tucks his phone away and crouches to sweep her into a hug. No matter what sort of day he's had, an Attie hug can make all his troubles dissolve in seconds. "Because you have an appointment, little one."

"Oh." Martin has to bite his lip to keep the smile off his face when her disappointment shows. Her brows draw together in the most adorable pout he’s ever seen, until her eyes begin to sparkle when he winks at her. Martin thanks the teacher that walked Atla out, picks his daughter up and shifts her onto his hip so he can sign the paper pushed at him. Once they're safely out of earshot, Atla murmurs, "why are we really going early pa?"

"Papa's gonna treat you to an early film night, how's that sound?"

"Yay!" Martin shushes her when she shouts, her little body unable to contain her adult-sized excitement. "Sorry pa… can I have chocolates?"

"You always get chocolates on film nights don't you? Of course you can." Martin sets her in her car seat, helping her pull her arms through the straps.

"I can do it." She lightly slaps Martin's hands away from the buckles and he watches as she studiously straps herself into her car seat. Attie is one of the most independent toddlers Martin has ever met; if there is a task she thinks she can do on her own, she won't stop until she is given the opportunity to try.

She beams triumphantly when she slots the three buckles in correctly, patting Martin's chest with unmatched tenderness. "I told you pa, I can do it!"

Martin shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss her nose. "When did you get so big, hmm? I swear, just yesterday your feet couldn't even touch the seat in front of you, now look." He points to where her pink sneakers have scuffed the back of the passenger seat, leaving little black marks he doesn't have the heart to erase. They're a semi permanent reminder of Atla being this little.

"I'm big and strong like you! And I'm gonna be bigger than you one day!" Atla puffs out her chest in the most adorable way, reminding him instantly of some of the lads.

"You've been around your uncle Kieran way too much if you've learned that from him. Now tell me what you learned today søta, like you always do."

Martin listens and sneaks glances in his rearview as Atla explains her playground exploits and her foamy-volcano science experiment in colorful detail. Her pigtails bounce when she shakes her head and waves her hands to try and replicate the way the volcanoes erupted when they combined the ingredients as instructed, and Martin's heart aches.

His daughter won't be so young and innocent forever.

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #martin odegaard fanfiction #martin odegaard oneshot #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #arsenal #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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awritersstuff · 7 months

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Just imagine being smoky's girlfriend and you always tell him things like "you know you should rest more you are still weak smoky " "eat fruits you need protein " and many more things like things like he should rest he needs protein. even tho he is much better now . But once smoky has enough and when you told him that he is still WEAK he take it to himself to prove you wrong and now you are here .

Your body folded in half your knees almost touching your ears and smoky strong arm supporting them . His hips snaping into yours at a fast pace 😳. Your face coverd by your own tears and smoky bend his head to kiss you lips softly . His kisses are sweet, soft and blissful very different from the sinful deed he is doing to you right now . His pase not even flattering a bet. The room is filled with your sweet moans and his heavy grunts. You could feel the familyer knot building in your stomach and not just you smoky can also feel it your pussy clenching around his thick dick . " you about to cum , honey " smoky says almost in grunts and you nod . Smoky chuckle and now it was his time to tease you "but didn't you say I was weak ,huh . And now look at you , look you need some rest . Too bad you are not going to get any" and with that a single last thrust he came hard "already tired we still got 3 to go its only the 7th round " and since that day you sweard you will never call smoky WEAK but only if you wannabe railed😉

Now only imagine because that all we can do ( crying in horny)🥲🥲

#high and low #high and low smoky #high and low x yn #high and low smoky x yn

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cxyotl · 3 months

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I want to hear more about how you came up with the idea for your apocalypse au! Did you have any inspirations behind it? Did it come in pieces or all at once?

OUGGG ok i made the original zombie au in 2021, then it shifted the more in biology i got ^^

so if you dont know, im an ecology major and have done a few jobs with the department of wildland resources. i took inspo from two things: amoebas (slime mold) and prions (CWD)

chronic wasting disease, or the zombie deer virus, is a prion disease that affects north american deer populations. prions are incredibly interesting (and kinda scary) and i really wanted to tie them to my zombie hyperfix. for two reasons actually: first, because theres no cure for prion disease. its just proteins folding wrong and drilling holes in your brain. SECONDLY because you could be infected for years and not know. how scary is it to know that anyone around you could be infected with a zombie virus, and you wouldnt know until they went down the deep end and died from it? thats freaky as hell. plus, prions hold onto the dead body and spread to consumers, so not even a dead zombie is a safe zombie. freaky. you can also be infected by prions just by touch- you wouldnt need to be bitten to be killed. i wanted to explore that.

i really like amoebas, and felt like the egg arc in dsmp matched the description of such an intelligent single celled organism like slime mold. so imagine big ass slime mold tracing the bodies of zombies, and then imagine that that slime mold naturally carried a prion.

#thanks for this ask!!!#cxyotl prions au

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tethered-heartstrings · 1 year

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i'd like to join-

1. Is there something normal one of them does that the other finds endearing? (ie. pacing when thinking, talking with loads of hand gestures, etc.)

2. Is there something completely mundane that one of them does that makes the other feel like they're falling in love all over again?

3. There's a lot of focus on ways that Hannibal comforts Will, but what can Will do to comfort Hannibal when he needs it?

4. If there was still anything one of them would keep/hide from the other, what would it be? How long would it be able to last before the other finds out?

1. Will has a habit of licking the tip of his pen before writing and insists on cheap bulk pens. He also keeps a lighter in his pocket despite not smoking “just in case”. Will has an anatomical heart emoji next to Hannibal’s name in his phone, and Hannibal has a normal heart for Will. Will always ties his left shoe first but takes the right one off first. Hannibal has a daily Flow streak on his phone and plays it when he has his coffee. Will eats his foods in categories or in a pattern. Either the veggies first or in a rotation of veggies, carb, protein, etc. Whatever order from least to most tasty (obviously it is all delicious but he still has favorites). Hannibal watches what Will saves for last and incorporates that part of the meal into more future meals and tries to improve on them. Will notices this.

2. The way Will always folds/puts away Hannibal’s clothes first so they don’t get wrinkled. The way Hannibal talks to all the dogs in full conversation, no baby talk, and does not talk to them all the same way. He also keeps a list on his phone of what all the dogs like/dislike so he can keep track. When Will feels restless at night he Will sometimes check to see if Hannibal’s car is full of gas and always refills it if its halfway or less full. Hannibal wakes up early and usually makes the coffee, and a cup is already poured and ready just how Will likes it. Will knows Hannibal shaves everyday/on a schedule and sets the razor out for him.

3. I see Hannibal as having “acts of service” as his love language, so Will does the things normally “assigned” to Hannibal. Or things Hannibal could easily do but Will does anyway. Takes his shoes off for him, hanging up his coat, runs him a bath, cooks dinner, etc. Little things to show Hannibal how much he does for the both of them and how important and special he is to Will. If Hannibal is having a hard time, Will lets him talk without interrupting too much. If Hannibal wants to draw, Will will intentionally sit somewhere still to let Hannibal sketch him and get lost in his art for a few hours.

4. I think if either of them felt they were in danger and the other couldn’t immediately help and it would only stress them out, they would keep it to themselves. And i think if Hannibal sensed anything Wrong with himself medically, he would get all the answers first before ever indicating to Will something was amiss. I don’t think they necessarily want to keep things from the other. So much has been laid between them, the worst of themselves have already come forth and been shown. They don’t have anything to hide anymore, unless they think it will spare the other’s feelings and protect them. But they always plan to share the entire truth once it is okay to do so.

#sorry if 1 and 2 are too similar they got merged in my brain #anonymous #the curious clown #also yeah feel free to join! i will answer what i can #tbh these are all like mini prompts and i just answer what comes to my mind first. answering with my heart lol

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unknownjpegs · 4 days

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breakfast

Lark’s the only one home when Maran shows up on the doorstep.

There’s a thin halo of light from the city behind him outside that accentuates the slowly growing peach fuzz across his head. Looks like it would be pleasantly soft to the touch if he ran his palm over it, a thought that sort of startles him and is quickly shoved down. Lark’s noticed that Maran keeps it shortly buzzed usually, but it seems to grow out quick. For some reason, the hair cut doesn’t seem to cut down his youthfulness. Same age as Xavier, yet seems so young sometimes, to Lark. Especially in that lonely face. He leans against the door frame, has to tilt his head up because he’s another tall one.

“Hey,” Lark offers in greeting. “Trying for Ben? He left his phone here on accident—ran out for food with Xavier.”

“Oh.” Maran says it like it’s a bit of a punch. Small scrunch of disappointment on his face; not necessarily that Benny’s not there, but—Lark feels like an asshole immediately. Doubly so when Maran starts to turn to leave. His hand shoots out too fast. Vampire like, but he can’t temper it in time before its curling into Maran’s jacket.

He jumps a little, looks instantly spooked by the pale hand grasping onto him. Brown eyes flicker down to it and then up to the vampire in the doorway.

“Come inside,” Lark says. He moves himself slightly outside the door, glances around at the desolate street. Sharp ears pick out all sorts of sounds; cats in the alleyway, a couple fighting in an apartment down the street, Maran’s heart. “Kinda cold out.”

“You feel that?”

“No,” Lark says with a curled grin and then pulls Maran inside.

—

They end up in the kitchen, Maran at that round, shitty poker table that had gotten pulled off the street. A paperback book has to stay wedged up underneath one of the legs so it doesn’t wobble—and Lark’s the only fucking guy in the place reading anyway. Old On the Road copy; not really something he was morning from his shelf. It’s not a big kitchen, nothing luxurious. Not like there jobs pay well, but it’s clear. Not like how you’d expect a kitchen that has men in and out of it everyday.

“Can you eat that?” Maran asks, pointing toward the blender that Lark is tossing ingredients into.

“Nope.” He uses a parring knife to slice up a banana anyway. “S’why Benny and Xavier are gone. Went out to get tacos—told them if they brought it home I’d break the T.V.” Lark levels a look at Maran as he dumps the banana’s into the blender to join milk and ice and peanut butter. “Cooked meat smells disgusting to me now.” Maran’s brows pinch upward.

“That is right fuckin’ grim, Lark.”

“You get used to it.” The blender whirs on, loud and obnoxious with Lark’s hand flat to it. He’d gotten used to tuning noises like this out; a fluctuation between senses that were too good and senses he had to momentarily dull. Helps for some reason to keep his thumb tucked into his fist. Like a focus on something else grounds him. Lark pauses to shake the ice around, then gives it a second go. It all blends into viscous tan concoction that he vaguely recalls tasting good.

“I used to make protein shakes for myself every morning,” he explains, without really knowing why. Maran’s comfortable like that. Similar in a lot of ways to Xavier. Promotes this you can talk to me kind of vibe without meaning to. Lark doesn’t look over at him as he pours the shake into a plastic container.

“You were that type, yeah?” Maran’s got a hand folded under his chin, leaning forward with one of his legs kicked out. He’s got a ridiculously silly graphic t-shirt on underneath a wearing thin leather jacket. Lark had only pulled on sweatpants and a tank top—he didn’t feel the cold anymore, but the layers the humans were wearing suggested it might be a chillier night than it should be.

“Nothing wrong with taking care of yourself instead of getting tacos at one in the morning.”

“But s’not for you? Said you can’t eat it.”

Lark folds the lid over the container and shoves it to the side. Digs into the freezer for more ice to replenish the blender.

“They don’t eat enough fruit.”

“What?”

“They don’t,” Lark says, tossing a handful of blueberries next into the blender. “Eat enough fruit. They don’t eat anything that isn’t processed fucking garbage. The only thing I’ve seen Benny use this kitchen for was melting down metal to pour into bullet casings.” Mention of the man makes Maran shift a bit and Lark almost wants to repeat what he’d said, because crush aside, Benny was melting metal to pour into bullet casings.

It’s not like he can’t see the appeal Ben has. Weird energy, like touching an electric fence that isn’t live enough to hurt you, but enough of a bite to make it burn. He’s not bad looking either; if you’re into slinky blonds with nearly see through blue eyes. Just, opposites attract maybe.

Because Maran is gorgeous in that effortless way men can be sometimes. Freckled, tanned, pouty set to his lips. More than anything, he’s sweet. Morose a little in a way Lark isn’t entirely sure he knows. Puts off an energy of not belonging, of being on the outside, looking in at them through a window collecting snow till it covers them all up. Like he hasn’t nudged himself into the circle yet, even with his hand firmly in Benny’s.

“You’re makin’ them meal prep?” His voice pulls Lark out his head, parring knife on the banana slipping a bit. It skirts off his finger, a little black swell of blood welling to the surface. It doesn’t actually feel like anything, that shallow. Almost just the sensation of skin parting, but no actual pain. He dips his finger into his mouth and rolls his eyes.

“You’re three inches shorter than Xavier, probably weigh more than him,” he replies, voice muffled a bit. “Or Benny? Wanders out of his room, I’ve got a headache. Yeah, eat less fucking salt.” Lark slaps the blender on, the ice whirling and the sound making his sensitive ears ring for a moment. When it cuts out, Maran is laughing. Really sweet sound, his eyes squinting a bit around it.

His hand slips to cover his mouth, ending it with a snort.

“Sorry, mate—it’s just—you’re basically their mum right now.”

Lark leans with his lower back against the kitchen counter, pouring the smoothie into a tall beer glass that says Bud Lite on it. He smiles, his closed mouth half grin, tilted as it is.

“Xavier,” he says in a high pitched, annoyed voice. “Stop reading comics all night, go to bed.” He flaps a hand in a peevish mockery, eyes rolling, getting huffy with the imitation. “Benny, love of God, fold your laundry.” Maran snorts again, a tuck of his teeth into his lip so as not to give in. “Maran,” Lark leans in one hand on the table, grinning wider, keeping up this faux motherly voice. “Enjoy your smoothie,” he ends the charade with his real voice, even toned as he puts the glass down on the table.

When he draws back and resumes his casual lean against the counter, Maran is blinking at the glass.

“Look,” Lark sighs, a little laugh to his song like voice as he tilts his head back. “I’m sorry if—I didn’t mean to make it seem, like earlier—that you were only here for Benny and,” Lark drags a hand over his skull, making a mess of his dyed blond hair.

“You don’t hafta—”

He jerks open a utensil drawer and rummages until he finds a straw. Lark dramatically leans forward and slides it into the smoothie. As he does, he gets closer and—feels awkward. Feels real awkward and maybe not the necessarily right, but he curls his hand into a fist and rests it on Maran’s shoulder as he sits there. Pats it a few times with his same crooked grin from before.

“You should hang around more often, Mar.” Lark means it, hope it feels authentic, as it can from someone—something—like him. You’re good, he thinks, tries to radiate that feeling out. One of the good ones, and you’re good for those two because between you and me, I think they struggle being good. And sometimes, you’re right, maybe I fucking baby them and worry about them and hate them, resent them, for being human when I’m not anymore. I wanna be like you, Maran, as much as you wanna be included. I’d like to be excluded again.

It’s such a lonely life; for him, a vampire, to be prowling around killing his own kind, but sometimes he wonders how exhausting this has to be for them. Humans.

For a moment, Maran can only stare at the smoothie in front of him. One hand lifts and wraps around it and tugs it closer. Lark lifts his hand from Maran’s shoulder, shoving it back into his sweatpants pocket and clearing his throat.

“Blueberries were my favorite, before.”

“Really like tangerines if m’being honest,” Maran replies before taking the straw between his teeth and smiling.

—

Somehow they end up in the living room next, and Maran falls asleep on the couch. Lark sits on the one end; had gone and got a hoodie at some point to swallow himself up in. He sits with his legs thrown out, spine curved, chin tucked into the giant neck of the sweatshirt. Maran’s gone and sprawled himself out over the other end of the couch, his leather jacket over the back of it. His arms tuck around himself, face pressed into the arm, chest rising and falling.

Maran smells good; and his heart beat is loud. It’s an even, slow, pretty rhythm that makes Lark’s mouth pool hard. When he looks at him, he can see the pulse, fluttering handsomely underneath the skin of his throat. Maran falls asleep in front of him, a vampire. Lark’s eyes stay there for a moment.

He misses blood. Fresh blood. He misses putting his fangs through something, into something. The euphoria of it, the warm splash in the back of his throat. Lark misses holding onto someone so tight he could break them and feeling them moan at the pain, pleasure, hypnotism of it all. He closes his eyes and stops breathing, so he doesn’t have to think about how good Maran smells.

There’s a calendar in his room. Red dots on the days he visits the mortuary to get his blood supply in bags. He used to warm it up first, try and pretend it was coming out of a vein. Doesn’t bother anymore, denies himself even that, because it’s not supposed to taste good. It’s not supposed to feel good.

There’s an absolute crash of a sound from the front door and the two missing men stumble in together. They’re all long limbed and excited, a conversation following them. They reek like meat and that’s good, because Lark takes a deep inhale of cooked cow and it makes his stomach turn.

Benny pauses at the entrance to the living room, the kitchen light behind him putting him in shadow. Lark’s eyes can see him clearly, though, the way his electric blue eyes land on Maran and then slide his way.

“Oh, we just fucked,” Lark says, with a quick gesture between the two of him. “I was too good—he needed an immediate nap. Something about the best he’s ever had?”

“Lark,” Benny says, dripping with nasty poisonous playfulness as he steps further into the living room. He lifts a hand and points at him and Lark points at himself then, innocently before rolling his eyes and standing from the couch.

“Relax. I made him a smoothie and he’s asleep because its four am.”

“You made smoothies?” Xavier’s head ducks around the corner, his red hair in wild disarray because he’s letting it grow out too long. Bothers him around the ears—Lark wishes he could tuck that thought away, because, Christ, Maran was right. Mothering.

“For breakfast, if you two ever fucking sleep.”

“C’mon, Maran.” Lark can pick up the whispering, but he doubts Xavier can hear that gentle note, that tone that doesn’t fit Benny. That feels out of place for him as he stoops close to Maran on the couch. One of his hands has slid underneath those folded arms, patting softly to get him to rise. Maran’s eyes flicker open a little, a huff leaving him as he wakes. Lark swings back to look at Xavier who grins toothily.

“Banana and peanut butter?”

Lark groans and exits the living room, to put himself to bed before daybreak.

#writing #hj #vampire au #lt #mgc #mgc x lt

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1kook · 3 years

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skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…”

Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane.

Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot.

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form.

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds.

They were his favorite.

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this.

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month.

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity.

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings.

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream.

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping.

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since!

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind.

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck.

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching.

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go.

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen.

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins.

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?”

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world.

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.”

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.”

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here.

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action.

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes.

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high.

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time.

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down.

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.”

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now.

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly.

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist.

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy.

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can.

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer.

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question.

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.”

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides.

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry.

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes.

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be.

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest.

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly.

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?”

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign.

He strikes while the iron is still hot.

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion.

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort.

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months.

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it.

Kinda.

Probably.

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over.

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing.

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders.

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off.

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face.

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing.

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting.

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.)

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you.

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone.

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more.

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs.

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it.

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him.

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top.

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror.

He’s never seen you like this before.

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips.

And then something unforgivable happens.

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information.

Your hand.

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness.

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face.

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant.

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.”

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.”

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him.

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him.

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip.

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now.

The sympathy doesn’t last long.

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams.

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand.

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this.

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches.

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are.

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out.

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him.

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead.

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.”

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands.

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!)

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead.

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises.

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock.

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon.

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time.

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.”

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago.

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap.

There was never a choice.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts jungkook #mine #skirtfic

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sgwrscrsh · 3 years

Text

winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked.

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.”

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands.

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.”

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said.

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist.

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves.

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms.

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves.

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes.

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?”

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner.

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you.

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door.

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry.

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?”

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go.

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings.

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you.

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts.

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you.

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds.

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots.

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask.

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining.

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.”

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug.

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by.

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!”

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.”

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out.

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs @sachirou-senpai @honey-makki @kenmaki

#skye writes fluff #seijoh four #seijoh third years #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu poly #haikyuu post time skip #skye writes a series #summer on you: the series

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transgenderer · 3 years

Note

can you explain prion diseases i don't really get how just bad protein(?) can be that damaging

basically a protein is a very long chain of molecules called amino acids. these amino acids are constructed by the ribosome in a line, but the properties of the various amino acids in the specific sequence of a particular protein cause this line to bend and twist, (referred to as folding) until the protein is in some elaborate shape

(this is a single long line, bending and twisting and coiling. the thick parts are the same protein, but traditionally when the protein forms a specific type of know shape (in this case, whats called an alpha helix) they represent it like this to make it easier to see))

the proteins function in the body depends on its shape, its only able to do what it does (for example, speed of certain chemical reactions, or carry certain molecules, or form certain structures) if its in the right shape.

now, to prions! a prion of a given protein has the same sequence of amino acids, chemically its the same thing, but it turns out sometimes the same sequence of amino acids can fold into a different shape if its guided there by another prion, or gets really unlucky (prion replication is unclear, it seems like its probably from normal proteins forming long chains called fibrils with preexisting prions, and getting converted).

this shape, just like the right shape, is also stable, and it will stay like this, but it no longer has the nice properties of the shape the protein is "supposed" to be in. now, it wouldnt be so bad if the prion didnt spread, a single bad protein is fine, but (again, for debated reasons) because prions convert other proteins with the same sequence into more prions, eventually your body has far fewer of the right-shaped protein, and a bunch of wrong-shaped proteins gunking up the works, because often prions are resistant to being broken down by parts of your cells that break down old proteins

so, the really scary thing about prions, is theyre not alive, or even close to alive (like viruses), theyre just proteins, which means the only way to get rid of them is to totally destroy the shape of those proteins (this is called "denaturing", when a protein gets too hot, it loses its shape), but you cant really just denature a single protein, so trying to destroy a prion in an organism would kill the organism, because its full of proteins you DONT want to denature , because theyre important, and if you want to disinfect equipment which you fear might have prions, you cant just use antimicrobial soap or hydrogen peroxide or whatever, you have to get it really hot.

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yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

hurricane (brian may x fem reader)

request by the wonderful @speciallyred w prompts 45 and 58 from this prompt list! i was super nervous to write this bc i love her writing but i hope u enjoy!!

genre: per request of anna, angsty! but it ends w some fluff to mend ur broken heart hehe

summary: he’s never home, and neither is she. he can’t communicate, and she just wants to be loved.

words: 1.5k this was supposed to b a drabble OOPS

warnings: crying, sadness, mentions of marriage+kids, mentions and accusations of cheating, i think that’s it but as always, lmk if i missed any!

a/n: ok so a. y/n wasn’t used so if u wanted this do bri x some other female or oc that would work, and b. i also didn’t use anything that would keep this from being able to be read as a gwil!bri fic :) mwah (also i just realized this but this could totally be a song fic for i want love by elton john ok bye luv u)

⭑ 🎸

It was deathly silent in the spacious former home of Brian and his beloved, that had now been reduced to only a house. The ticking of the grandfather clock he had insisted that they had to have when they moved in could be heard ringing out and echoing, pestering the girl to no end.

It was always quiet in their house, even when they fought. There was never a rushed bustle of children you had to get out the door to school, and not even a cat or dog to create a disruptive chaos as they ran about, muddy paws leaving marks on the floor.

There would be the occasional record playing lowly, the notes floating about the house, and sometimes if she couldn’t sleep, she would have Bri play her a soft tune on his old acoustic, his voice having no issue bringing her to rest.

But even now, during one of the most heart wrenching fights that the pair had gone through, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the hardwood flooring.

As Brian was a soft and gentle man, never yelling or raising his voice in the slightest. He wasn’t mean or cruel, in fact, his entire aura calmed her to no end, which is why she supposed she hated this so much.

She scanned with careful eyes over his silhouette, watching as stray curls rustled from the draft coming in from the open window, goosebumps raising on both of their exposed arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just you, Bri.”

He rolled his eyes from where he sat on the white sofa, moving his fist under his chin. A scoff fell from his rosy lips as he turned his head to look out the window, not actually paying any mind to the green hills, a light frost covering the entire landscape.

“So are you just going to ignore me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

A salty tear rolled down her face, the incoming breeze hitting her dampened face. She inhaled sharply, her chilled skin becoming slimy and cold to the touch.

Brian wouldn’t know that, though, he hadn’t touched her in days. Weeks, even.

She had wanted to say that his words were malicious, with venom dripping from his tone, like some sort of acid was coating his vocal cords.

But they weren’t. His voice never raised a damn octave, staying completely neutral. And it was driving her mad.

“Then what is this, Brian?”

“I’m collecting my thoughts.”

She laughed, the sound lacking its usual melodic intonation that the guitarist adored so much. He was the reasoning behind the dry chuckle, that much he knew, and he hated it. God, how he despised it. But, he would never let it show. How could he, when he was the initiator of the (extremely childish, now that he thought over it) conflict to begin with? He knew his accusation was emptier than the large building they resided in, and he knew that the results would be horrendous.

But jealousy was an ugly green parasite that had rooted itself in Brian May’s heart, slowly consuming him from the inside out. It was like a devil that rested on his left shoulder, insisting that she was unfaithful, taking advantage of his extended leaves. He foolishly acted on the devil’s words, which led to where they were now.

“Well, how long do you need to ‘collect your thoughts’?” She folded her leg under her opposite thigh, leaning towards him, the distance of only a few feet feeling like worlds away to her broken heart. She would always be drawn to him like some sort of magnet, no matter how badly he hurt her.

“I’m not sure, would you like me to do so elsewhere?”

A beat passed.

“Why, so you can go shag someone else, just like I apparently have been?”

Again, silence.

“You were gone for 3 hours every night on every Tuesday the past month-“

“You kept track? You’re out of your damn mind.” She raised her voice, sitting up, suddenly enraged with his obsessive distrust rather than saddened.

“That’s not important-“

“What’s important is that you’re gone on tour for 10 times as long as that, leaving me here completely alone to my own devices! I trust you enough to believe that you remain mine while you’re away, but for some unknown reason, you can’t manage to think the same about me.”

His flippancy on the issue at hand agitated her (or his lack thereof in general, she supposed) to no end. She wanted him to scream and cry, to throw something, to loudly shout, to shed fury fueled tears as she had. She knew it was wrong, but quite frankly she didn’t care.

He tried to speak up for himself, stuttering out something about how he did in fact trust her, but all to no avail. She would have none of it, not now.

“What’s important, Brian, is that every Tuesday, I’m staying 3 hours after work to try to make it so that I don’t have to rely on you for money, because I don’t want you to think even for a moment I’m with you just because you’re some incredibly famous rockstar who happens to be loaded!”

She was standing now, although she couldn't quite remember bringing her body from the comforts of the soft chair by the mantle to her feet. The roaring fire beside her had died down into a flurry of golden embers, heat still radiating from the pile of charred logs, Brian failing to provide even a fraction of the same warmth.

“Because I love you, and as of late, I’m starting to wonder if you love me too.”

He stood, walking over to where she was in a timely manner, his long legs carrying him quickly. Her breath hitched at their sudden proximity, her surprise only growing when he gripped his hands on either side of her face, pulling her forward and capturing her lips in a long awaited union.

She loathed that her stiff figure was melting into him faster than she would like to admit, and she even more, she loathed the fact she knew she always would.

He was able to taste her tears that hadn’t ceased to roll down her face, the bitter droplets seeping onto the tip of his tongue. He pulled away, his right hand caressing her cheekbone while his forehead rested upon hers. His bottom lip quivered, a wave of emotions hitting him like a hurricane in full force.

His eyes become glassy, and all at once, tears flood his eyesight, pouring down his flushed features. He looked down, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. The bawling didn’t stop as he had hoped, though, it just slowed, the liquid dropping onto her shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. And ’m sorry, I’m so incredibly sorry, darling.”

She smiled softly, lightly massaging the top of his scalp, his locks growing frizzy.

“I know. But it’s just so hard- It seems everyone is getting married, and settling down. Hell, even Fred has his cats.”

They both laughed, and she chewed her bottom lip, a habit of hers that Bri had picked up on in the time he’d known her.

“I just get lonely, Bri, and it feels like you never let me know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. That’s all, honest to God.”

They moved to sit down, and he pulled closer than they had been in ages.

“I’ll support you in any way shape or form, no matter what, yeah?”

She simply nodded, leaning onto his shoulder.

“Yeah. I know.”

Raising his eyebrows, he cocked his head, choosing his next words carefully.

“And if you’re serious about, y’know, having a family and ‘settling down’ and everything, I’ll do it.”

She met his eyes, her smile growing wider.

“Really?”

He hummed, nodding his head. “I love you, and this house is far too quiet.”

She giggled, tossing her arms around his neck and throwing herself on him.

“I must say I agree.”

After the grins had retreated into soft smiles, and the two had come to a much more stolid point, she sat up, patting her lap.

Brian understood immediately, laying his tired head down and allowing her to play with his hair. She moved her hands to oh so lightly trace the crook of his nose and the bags under his eyes (from the late nights he spent performing, wishing he was in the exact position he was in now), the ticklish feeling making him nuzzle into her hand with a whine.

She couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful boy beneath her, as even with all the work that there was to be done between them, she felt confident that he was in it for the long haul.

🦔⭑ 🎸

me @ u for reading that

ty for reading, like and rb if u wanna :) go drink some water and eat some protein if u can!

as always, xx hj <3

#brian may #brian may x reader #brian may x oc #brian may x you #brian may fluff #gwilym lee #gwil! bri x reader #borhap #queen imagine #queen fic #borhap fic #gwilym!brian #gwilym lee x you #gwilym lee x reader #brian may imagine #ok bye mwah

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lesbianmonsterlover · 4 years

Text

Under New Skies (Female Lizardfolk x Female Reader)

Three days into your little solo camping venture, you were regretting not paying more attention during that one astronomy class you took to fulfill your science gen ed in school. The little clearing where you’d set up was about a mile down a dirt path off of a main thoroughfare, and only the fact that it was midweek and getting into autumn kept things relatively quiet. You hadn’t come across another camper since you set up your tent and fire pit, spending your time pretty happily alone. Something has felt off all day though. It was so misty when you woke up, damp tendrils coiling along the ground and into the trees, so dense you couldn’t see past the treeline at all. You felt electric, almost like what you’ve read about before lightning strikes, all of your hair standing on end. Nothing happened though, and by late morning the sun had taken care of the mist leaving the day unseasonably warm.

Now, though, it’s nighttime, and something definitely seems wrong. You should be able to see the big and little dipper at this time of year, but they don’t seem to be anywhere in the sky? None of the constellations you can name seem to be anywhere actually. You don’t want to dwell on it, chalking it up to ignorance, but it leaves a niggling in the back of your brain. You wish you’d paid more attention to a lot of things, now. Were these forest sounds familiar? You want to say you’ve heard these bugs before, and birds, and frogs, but really would you notice if they were different? You think you would, hope you would. Something feels off though, but you put it off to deal with it in the morning.

That lump of lead hasn’t gone away by morning, and even though you’re meant to spend another night here you decide to cut the trip short and trek back to your car. It’s a ten mile hike from where you are to where you parked, a straight shot once you make the mile back to the main trail. You take care to clean, making yourself a thermos of coffee for the road before putting out the fire, and leaving the campsite behind with nothing to signify your presence other than a small ring of rocks surrounding cold, damp ash.

The first few minutes of your hike, you keep telling yourself you’re cutting you trip short due to paranoia. But you promise yourself a treat to make up for it, maybe some pastries and a gourmet coffee to make up for the freeze dried instant stuff you’re currently drinking, with enough powdered non dairy creamer to choke an actual cow. You don’t notice how long you’ve been walking, until you’re pretty sure you’ve walked well over a mile on this dinky little pathway through the underbrush, and you really should have come across the main trail now. Sitting on a downed log you pull out your map and your phone. You curse the lack of bars, regretting not bringing your little handheld satellite GPS receiver, but you’d thought it would be overkill for a short and straightforward hike like this. That will show you to never do that again, you suppose. Still, your compass says you’ve been walking the right direction, and you wonder if maybe you just haven’t gone quite far enough. Still, you keep your phone out, knowing that you should at least get a bar or two on the main trail, considering you were using it on the hike in.

By the time lunch rolls around, you haven’t made it anywhere it seems like. Sure you’ve made progress, but you know you’ve walked at least half a dozen miles, and you still have no cell site, you’ve seen no main road, no other travelers. You sit, resting against a tree, and study your map while you eat a protein bar. You’re scrutinizing, trying to figure out where you might be if you’ve gotten turned around. You wonder briefly if you should head back for the clearing you came from and wait it out another night, but what would that do really? You left at the only trailhead leading out of the clearing, that leads onto the same straightforward little trodden path that should have hit the main trail hours ago. There are no paths branching off of that one, and you haven’t stepped foot off the path since you began walking. You finish your protein bar with a grimace and have a few sips of water before angrily folding your map and continuing to follow the path.

The sun is just touching the tops of the trees when the little path you’ve been walking down all day finally intersects with a trail. You say a trail and not the trail, because this road that you’re now standing on looks completely unfamiliar to you. It looks like an old through road, unpaved and with two well worn ruts for what look like cart wheels running along it. You don’t see any sort of civilization either direction, and you’re contemplating climbing a tree to see what you can make out from up that high, but you really don’t want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere in need of an ambulance and you aren’t exactly a spry young child anymore, capable of climbing trees on a whim.

You wrack your brain, trying to figure something, anything out. You know that when you left the main trail onto what had been a small path to your campsite you’d turned right, so you should turn left down the trail to get back to your car. You head that way, despite all contrary evidence you keep hoping that if you just push through it you’ll reach your car and be headed back home. Maybe you’d go see a doctor, or maybe you’d just sleep off this experience, but it would be over and you could go back to the regular world.

When it’s well and truly night, and you still haven’t seen hide nor hair of another person, you let yourself settle down for a good cry. The moon is full, and you can at least see where you’re going, but all that does is illuminate everything that’s wrong. You should be able to see some sort of light pollution nearby, the sky shouldn’t be this full of stars, why is there no noisy civilization. You should be close enough to hear cars on the road, so where are they? You know you should settle down and wait for morning, but you know your brain just won’t let you sleep. So why rest? You keep pushing forward, and by the time the sun is rising you just want to collapse into another sobbing heap as the road continues ever on in front of you.

You aren’t hungry, anxiety eating at your stomach as much as it is your head. You do make sure to choke something down though, knowing that if you’re going to keep walking you need to keep calories in you. You’re thankful that the road runs near to a running source of water, you can hear that at least sometimes in the background and it’s easy enough to find once you go looking. Filling up your large canteen, you drop a water purification tablet in and continue out on your trek. Running on fear and anxiety, you stagger on for what could have been hours, or maybe only minutes, or maybe even days (okay that’s a bit of an exaggeration) until you reach a fork in the road.

Now, do you go the Robert Frost take the road less traveled with its overgrown footpath and dark canopy, or do you listen to the horror trope screaming at you in the face and take the well maintained and nicely lit pathway? Your desire to not wind up murdered wins out, and you take the brightly lit road with its well worn ruts. Robert Frost will have to wait until you aren’t in an actual life or death situation to come in with his wisdom. Although when you trip in one of those well worn ruts and sprain your ankle two miles later you’re rethinking your decision. So, you break down, and I mean who can blame you?

-------

Two days ago, and a handful of hours, Rha’ss felt her chaining for the first time. Usually sometime around reaching maturity one’s chaining would make itself known. Some bloomed slightly earlier, some later, but most who made it into their thirtieth year without it knew that they would not find themselves being called by their other half. It wasn’t unheard of at all for these unfated pairs to still love and live together, but the connection of a chained couple was known to be unrivaled, such that even high born nobles would take their fated regardless of status.

At thirty-eight Rha’ss had resigned herself to life without a chain, becoming a sellsword content with the knowledge that there would be none to truly mourn her when the time came. So imagine her surprise when she woke in the middle of the night to feel that gentle pull in the center of her chest, a yearning wrapped ‘round her heart that would not be fixed until the subject of her desires was with her. Between contracts as she was, it didn’t take long for her to be fixed on her horse and following the gentle pull in her chest.

She wondered then what had happened to have brought the bond to life so suddenly. Were you just coming of age? How would she handle that, and the differential that comes with such a difference in life experiences? Was there something else that had kept the bond dormant for so long? Were you merely far from her, and only now in close enough proximity for it to kindle? She hopes you won’t be disappointed by her, a hardened and jaded mercenary. She long buried her love and affection beneath a tough veneer of indifference, necessary for the blood she traded in. How would you handle holding hands that had dealt death?

Rha’ss isn’t sure what to make of you when she first comes across you. You’re curled in the middle of the road, sobbing, with your hands pressed against your face. From what she can see you’re too tall to be a gnome, but your ears are round so you can’t be an elf. Maybe half elf half gnome? You’re dressed so oddly too. In bright colors and materials she’s never seen before. Your shoes are odd to her, your coat, your bag. Everything is so strange. But when you look up, and your watery eyes sparkle against the sun as you stare up at her, she can’t find it in her to be upset.

“What’s the matter sweetling?”

-------

You find yourself staring up at an imposing creature astride a rather large dapple grey horse. They look like a lizardfolk out of a fantasy game, their reptilian face gleaming like jade in the bright sun. Their head is crested with pink and teal moving down their spine in impressive pointed frills almost like a mohawk. Their slitted eyes are a bright yellow, matching some of the scales that look almost like freckles across their shoulders and down their arms. Their throat leading down into their shirt is a pale cream, and the whole look is rather impressive. You wonder briefly at the edge of your consciousness if you should be scared, but something in your chest that’s been tight since two mornings ago seems to have relaxed now that you’re thinking of it.

Still, this...person? Person. This person is definitely not a human. And isn’t that something to think about? You wonder briefly if you’re in shock, did you actually break your ankle? Is this some weird fantasy your brain has stirred up to keep you from passing out and dying? Is all of this some weird fever dream where you’ll wake up in your campsite after a bout of food poisoning vowing to never eat rations again?

“What’s the matter sweetling?” Their voice is rough and feminine, low and rasping but with a lilt and timbre that makes you think of your grandmother in some odd way. They’re off their horse now, kneeling over you and looking down at you with such tenderness that all you can do is start sobbing anew and throw yourself at them. They shush you with quiet murmurs of nothing, taloned hands gently sifting through your hair to scratch at your scalp soothingly. Somehow, you choke out everything. From the changed pathway, to the different stars, to the different bugs, even to themselves.

“I don’t know what’s going on. Everything is all wrong, none of this makes sense! I can’t - I don’t know where I am, I can’t figure out how to get home. What do I do?” The being surrounding you gives a low, soothing hum, and their cool skin helps ground you.

“Well, sweetling, I can tell you that you’re at the border between the riverlands and dragon’s spire.” They give a thoughtful hum when your face remains as confused as ever. “In Xanthalan?” Your brows knit together further, and she huffs a little. “Why don’t we start with where you’re from, sweetling, and maybe your name at that. I am Rha’ss, daughter of Sharath, protector of the dragon’s spire.”

When you introduce yourself, with much less pomp, she finds herself confused. “I’ve never heard of that land before, and I have traveled across the great East sea to the basin of the world, and across the great North sea to the kingdoms of ice.” She frowns in thought, staring down at you heavily. “Where is your map?” When you fumble your map out of your bag and hand it to her she frowns again as she unfolds it. “This doesn’t make much sense…” She studies the map with you caged in against her chest, her arms still wrapped around you. “I think we need to pay a friend of mine a visit.”

Rha’ss moves to stand and pull you up with her, and you go with it completely forgetting your ankle. Until, of course, it decides to give under you when you try to put your weight on it. You’re pleasantly surprised by Rha’ss’ strength, as she catches you easily without stumbling. You mumble a shy apology, but she just gives you a warm look and caresses your cheek with her thumb lovingly. She helps you onto her horse, mounting behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist to take the reins. You feel small in front of her, she must be at least seven feet tall the way the top of your head doesn’t even graze her chin. You don’t have much riding experience, and it shows, but she’s patient with you, and the way she guides your hips into the rhythm of riding is surprisingly sensual.

It’s only a two hour ride at a moderate pace before you come across a small town built alongside the road. There’s an inn, and what looks like a general store, but that’s all you can make out before Rha’ss is pulling you bodily from the horse’s back and carrying you into the inn like a bride over a threshold. After settling you gently in a chair by the fire she greets the innkeeper and barkeep like old friends, complete with embraces that make you suddenly and unexpectedly jealous, all in a hissing sort of language you don’t understand. They’re both lizardfolk like she is, so you’re guessing it’s their own language.

You take a few moments to look around. There are a few others in here, not lizardfolk so this isn’t a planet purely populated by reptilian people. It looks like some orcs, and something furry with round ears - maybe a gnoll? And then a pair of short but intimidating looking...you’d have guessed humans but who knows at this point, both with impressive beards. So dwarves? You’re brought out of your reverie when Rha’ss walks back over to you carrying two frothy mugs and a roll of what looks like linen. “Let me bind your ankle sweetling, and then we can talk more.” The care with which she handles you makes you feel secure down to your bones, but you’re dreading trying to come to terms with whatever it is that’s happened to bring you here.

Under Rha’ss’ watchful stare you take a long sip of the drink she’s brought you, thankful that at least honey mead is honey mead regardless of whatever else is going on around you. “I don’t even know where to start…” You sound exhausted even to your own ears, the kind of weary that extends past physical tiredness and into the realm of a soul deep exhaustion. “I was camping, having a fine few days in the woods, but the other night I noticed the stars didn’t look quite right. I couldn’t find any of my landmarks. And then my trail disappeared, and I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how I got here. None of this makes sense. I’m just a normal human, from a normal family, lizard folk and orcs and stuff, none of this should be real. I can feel you’re real like I am though, and I’m starting to think I’m not hallucinating all of this…” You take another deep drink of your honey mead before placing your tankard down on the table and resting your face in your hands tiredly.

When you look back at Rha’ss she’s staring with a confused look on her face. “What’s ‘human?’ Is that your clan?”

You give her an equally confused glance. “No? It’s my species? My race?”

She doesn’t look appeased by that. “I’ve never heard of ‘human’ before.” She hums thoughtfully. “You’re softer than an elf, but bigger than a halfling or a gnome. You’ve got the rounded ears too.” She jerks her chin in your direction and you touch the rounded top of your ear a little self-consciously. She drinks from her own tankard and stares away in thought, you can almost hear the gears working in her head as she tries to puzzle things out. “That map you showed me earlier, you said that was from your home?” You nod at her and she hums again. “But you were camping just along the dragon’s spire, I know that land better than almost any and your map is fully foreign to me.” She frowns in contemplation, mumbling to herself before pinning you with a serious look. “Tell me what you know of heart’s calls and chaining.” You stare at her as confused as ever, you aren’t sure what you’ve done wrong as her face falls while you look on. Her sigh is weary and resigned, but she gives a grimace of a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Worry not sweetling, all will be revealed in time. Qruz has told me that the Wizard Gorux has made himself comfortable in the inn as of yesterday. It seems we were expected, we’re to meet tomorrow.”

You just nod your head tiredly at this point, too overwhelmed to even question it any longer. You can’t lift your head again though, crashing hard after the stressful past days. You’re already half asleep when Rha’ss picks you up again and settles you on a rather comfortable straw mattress in an upstairs room, and you’re out completely with barely enough time to mumble your thanks.

-------

When you wake the next morning, the first thing you notice is that you aren’t alone. While you’re alone in your little bed, you can see the lizard person, Rha’ss, from the day before, along with a somehow even taller and broader orc sitting across from her at a small table. They’re conversing lowly, and you can’t understand them over the crackling of the fire. The orc is dressed in ornately embroidered robes, and has a plethora of feathers and glass beads woven through his black hair. He looks wizened but not old, his hair lacking even a single streak of silver but his eyes carrying the weight of centuries.

You don’t really pay attention as he comes over and asks you a few questions, you can tell from them that Rha’ss has shared your story. He smudges you with some fragrant herbs, although you can’t place what any of them are and that sends a pang of sadness through your heart. Whatever he sees though makes his face go grim and he settles the lizard woman in the chair with a heavy look. “Aye, lass, it’s as ye thought. It isn’t the first time a bond has made it across time and space, but this is something I’ve only read about. It hasn’t happened in a millenia at the least. Do not take this gift lightly.” He turns to fix you with an inscrutable stare, dark eyes searching your face. His eyes soften though, and with an exhaled puff of air he places one large hand on the crown of your head and mumbles something in a language you’ve never heard before. “Blessings on you little one, I do not envy your position, but I know Rha’ss, I know she will love you and cherish you until the end of days if you let her. Do not ignore your chaining, the both of you will suffer for it.”

He’s gone before you can ask him about it, and Rha’ss is staring at you guardedly. “I guess it’s time for me to explain that eh?” She pulls a small leather pouch out of her pack, removing a pipe and what smells like it might be tobacco. You watch as she packs the leaf into the bowl of the pipe, soothing herself with the practiced repetitive motion. “Never thought I’d find myself doing this. See, sweetling, from the time we’re babes we hear about our calling. Our heart’s calling, or we call it the chaining. Because it’s said to feel like a chain pulling us together. I’d never felt it, my whole life. I dedicated myself to my sword, to battle. But I woke three nights ago to a feeling in my chest I knew with certainty was it.” She stands from the table then, leaving her pipe abandoned and unsmoked as she moves to kneel before you. “I was trying to fathom who might be waiting for me at the other end of my chain, and sweetling, it was you. Please, tell me you feel it.” Her hands are on your knees, and her yellow eyes are full of open affection and fear it won’t be reciprocated.

You reach up to stroke over her reptilian snout, soft little fingers skating up the butt of her jaw. “I know that I was panicking until I met you. That as soon as you held me I knew I’d never been safer in my whole life. I can’t promise this will always be easy for me, and that I won’t make mistakes, but I can promise to try.” Rha’ss relaxes against you burying her head against your stomach and gripping tightly at the back of your shirt. You lean down to kiss the top of her head between her eyes, and she curiously nuzzles up against your breasts when they crowd in against her. Your soft giggle at the action makes her face light up, and she begins rubbing against you with her jaw trying to make you laugh again.

Once she has you laughing you tug her face up to your own, kissing along the top of her nose. Her scales are cool and smooth against your lips, and she lets out an affectionate chittering noise when she feels your soft mouth on her. She strokes her tongue over your cheek and throat, letting out a high, throaty sigh at your taste. The gentle prick of her talons at your hips barely keeps you grounded as she laves over your skin with her dark, forked tongue in repeated strokes. You can’t help letting out a sigh of pleasure when that curiously dextrous appendage presses down the front of your shirt and skates over the cup of your bra. She seems intrigued by the garment, and with questioning eyes she tugs at the hem of your shirt.

You let Rha’ss strip it from you wordlessly, lifting your arms over your head until you’re left in your bra and hiking pants on the bed. Her talons gently trace the cup of your bra and up the straps to your shoulders. “This looks much nicer than a corset sweetling, not that I’d know much about that either way.” She leans down to lick a hot stripe down between your breasts before sneakily pushing her tongue underneath the front busk between the cups. You’re thankful to be wearing a front closing bra, and with only a little bit of experimentation she’s used her hands to pop it open, letting it fall aside to bare your chest to her. Her taloned hands have been smoothing and stroking up your sides, from your hips over the side of your chest and back down, gently massaging at your hips at they sit there momentarily before repeating their journey.

When you cry out Rha’ss’ name in frustration as she merely gazes down at you, she repeats yours back to you in a smitten sigh. Her knuckles gently graze over the peaks of your nipples, and she watches your face to learn what you like and how to touch you. She gently pinches them between two fingers, giving an experimental tug before fondling your breasts in earnest, her tongue licking stripes along your shoulders and throat. She has one firm thigh lodged between yours, and you can feel her cool skin heating beneath the languid thrusts your hips make up searching for friction.

Her head soon replaces her hands, that prehensile tongue coiling around one breast before giving a firm lick up the center to rasp over your nipple. You barely notice her hands as they skate down your stomach, talons dipping into the waist of your pants before she tugs at them softly, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. You lift your hips in assent, feeling bereft for a moment as she moves away only long enough to tug your pants and panties down in one fell swoop. She tugs her own garments off then too, a simple tunic and linen pants that whisper to the floor as she tosses them carelessly aside.

Rha’ss is on you again then, and over you. Her face is tucked into your neck, tongue scenting and tasting your skin as she presses your soft breasts against her cool, firm torso. The give of them against her is enticing, and she relishes in the way that you arch up into her when her thigh finally makes contact with your bare core. The heat is so intense against her cool skin, and she presses up against you harder in an attempt to feel more of it. You’re burning hot and so slick. She grips your hips, just careful enough not to prick you with her talons, although you may be sporting bruises later. She uses this leverage to move you up and down against her, drawing your slick heat over her flesh and painting her with your essence.

Your head is thrown back, baring your neck up submissively. One of your hands is caressing down over her head and neck, skating along the base of her frills. They had been tucked down against her back, but as she loses herself to pleasure you find them occasionally flaring unconsciously. Your other hand is at her back, at the base of her tail. You hadn’t really noticed it until now. Reaching down for a handful of her buttocks you instead catch the base of her tail, although the way it makes her stutter and cry out against your throat has you abandon your original goal in favor of stroking over where her tail meets her back with your soft hands and blunt nails.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, one moment you’re lost in your partner and the next you’re almost whiting out as the heat licks down your spine and your back arches. You cry out Rha’ss’ name, toes curling and thighs cramping as you reach your ecstasy. She spreads you out before her, and as you’re fuzzy from your pleasure you watch as she teases something from a slit at the apex of her thighs. It’s not quite as large as a penis, although it’s much thicker at the base and tapers to an odd blunt, angled tip. “When you’re ready, sweetling, I’ll fill you with my brood, but this will do for now.” She sighs happily when she slips the cool organ between your labia to rut against you. The oddly cool and slick sensation against your clit has you clenching again, and you cry out loudly when the tip prods at your hole only to just barely slip inside.

Rha’ss lets out a guttural noise when your hot body surrounds her, and you can feel the organ lengthen inside you even as it gets thinner. One of her hands comes down to stroke at your clit, touching you in just the right way that has you clenching harder. You’re still so tight around her, gripping her in all the right places. You’re surprised by her orgasm, a cool fluid gushing from the tip inside of you and flowing out to coat your inner thighs. It smells strangely sweet and heady, and the feeling of her coming inside of you along with her incessant fingers on your clit has you reaching your peak again.

Rha’ss falls beside you, pulling you in to lay on her chest. She feels blissfully cool against your heated skin. There will be more to work out and talk about, this is only the beginning of something after all, but you find yourself feeling oddly at peace with things. You know there will be trials, and that things won’t always be easy for you considering the abrupt and complete change of your lifestyle. But in this moment, you find you’re more excited than anxious. You’re pulled from your contemplation by Rha’ss fingers gently sifting through your hair to reach your scalp, lulling you to sleep with gentle touches and soft words.

#lesbian love #lesbian fiction #lesbian romance #WLW #female reader #fem reader #female lizardfolk #fem lizardfolk #smut #thigh riding

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achaoticeternal · 4 years

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Ransom Drysdale x Reader request from capshoney: Ransom with 31 and 39?

Summary: Ransom is oddly kind to you, but you always brush it off because of your closeness with his mother. Word Count: 2.4k

31) “If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.” 39) “Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“(Y/N),” You heard your name spoken with calmness, yet with authority from the black office phone that sat to the right of your Mac Desk Top. Everything was finely put in place, perfectly organized so that you could complete any task at a moment’s notice.

Currently, your eyes were fixated on the screen of the desktop, checking over the calendar for Mrs. Drysdale and various appointments she or her husband previously set so that you could coordinate a time for her to meet with a fairly new client. Your job was supposed to be centered around organizing Mrs.Drysdale’s emails, clients, and setting her calendar. Yet, your job description originally didn’t include practically becoming her personal assistant in both her workplace and life.

“(Y/N),” Mrs. Drysdale’s voice called again with just a touch of impatience.

Quickly, you picked up the phone and opened her full calendar for the month, along with opening both her husbands’ and sons’ schedules in minimized tabs.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Linda?”

“Father’s will reading shall be taking place on Saturday at 3 pm,” She promptly stopped and you quickly began typing away into Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale’s calendar.

“Aare there any arrangements you would like particularly made? Dry-cleaning? Have to cook set up a lunch or appetizers?”

“I need two items. First of all, have my pink suit pressed and dry-cleaned please,” You quickly scribbled down her request onto a post-it note, “and secondly, if you could stop by son’s little bachelor pad and ask if he plans to attend that would be phenomenal. And make sure his maid is still coming and that he hasn’t managed to scare her off yet. You can do that after your lunch break.”

“Yes ma’am, anything else?”

“Actually, if you could go now, you could pick up some lunch for him. I doubt he’s had anything besides a protein shake and who knows what else. Charge it to the VISA”

“Of course, ma’am. Have a wonderful afternoon.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

After five years, 2 years as an intern and 3 as an actual employee, you had come to know and be known by Mrs. Drysdale’s full family. They were an interesting mix of hard workers with rich kid mentalities. Well, most of them. And they were ever a loud crowd. But quite recently, her father had died from a supposed suicide. Of course, that truly wasn’t any of your own business, you just coordinated the funeral date, the invitations, the catering, and anything which the family didn’t want to settle themselves. At the end of it all, you weren’t permitted to attend the funeral which in all honesty made a fair amount of sense.

You didn’t know Harlan at all personally, but he was always kind to you and asked his daughter and her family to treat you with kindness. But two factors didn’t make sense about the funeral. Why they didn’t allow Harlan’s sweet nurse, Marta, to attend… and why Ransom Drysdale didn’t make an appearance at his beloved grandfather’s funeral?

- - -

The little doorbell camera rang as you balanced a paper sack and drink tray in one arm, and your purse and phone in the other. You waved at the camera, knowing he got humor out of watching people wait for him through his recently upgraded phone.

“Afternoon, Ransom. You know I would usually let myself in with the key above the door frame, but as you’ll notice,” you attempted to show off full your hands were, ”My hands are quite full. If you could kindly-”

The large wood door swung open into Ransom’s modern house before you could finish your sentence. And there stood Ransom in a pair of black jeans, a creme shirt, and a burgundy cardigan which you gave him for Christmas two years ago. If he had a scarf and boots on, you would’ve suspected that he just returned home from an outing.

“-open the door,” you stepped inside and made your way promptly to the kitchen, “Glad to see that you're fully awake and you didn’t leave any trash for me to pick up. How sweet. That makes what? Three months?”

“Well, it’s been four months since I brought home a pretty little thing for any bar or club,” Ransom took a seat on a stool and watched you unload your items onto the kitchen island. From the brown paper sack, you pulled two clear to-go containers; one containing Ransom’s favorite turkey and rye sandwich and a side of fruit salad, and in the other, your preferred lunch meal of choice. He threw you his signature smirk as you handed him his container, his hand soft grazing yours, “Are you proud of me, (Y/N)?”

Both his words and his actions caused your cheeks to fluster a bit. You understood how unprofessional your encounters with Mrs. Drysdale’s son were, but either she made it a point to notice or she simply didn’t care. Linda had only taken comfort in you a few times, but her frequent concern was Ransom and his future.

“Of course I am,” You smiled at him kindly, before returning back to business reaching into the bag again to obtain napkins and cutlery, “Now, your mother will pester me about this if I don’t get an answer to her in the next twenty-four hours. Do you...”

Ransom’s gaze shifted down to the pile on the counter where he noticed a napkin with black spots.

“...Do you plan to attend the reading of the will? I mean, after his birthday and not attending the funeral, I’m not sure what your p-”

“Yeah, I’ll be there, but (Y/N),” sipping your drink, you turned around to see what had captivated him, “who wrong this note?”

On the napkin was inscribed:

Does sleeping with him get you extra money from his mommy? X.

“Wh-what? I need a drink, that doesn’t even make sense. I haven’t even spent the night here, well except for when your mother left me here for four hours the night before our business trip but I’ve never even entered your room with you in there. This is just some small... little...” but the world seemed to fade quickly.

- - -

“Does she have any family?”

“Her mother and sister live in Vermont, but no one in the state. We treat her like part of our family”

The two female voices continued their conversation as you opened your eyes but quickly covered them to adjust yourself to the light. You saw Ransom sitting in one of the chairs while Linda answered any medical or personal questions.

“Where are we? Ransom- what happened?”

“Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”Ransom asked.

Telling you how proud I am of you.

“Asking about your schedule for the weekend?” From there on, things were blurry, but shapes and colors would stand. Things you might remember later.

“From your report, it seems you were drugged. Nothing heavy, but quite fast-acting. At least, you weren’t behind the wheel when this happened,” The nurse responded, “You’re free to leave, thanks to Mrs. Drysdale here.”

Linda gave the nurse the same smile she gives to every client after a sale, “Thank you, now let’s get to my car. Hugh, your father is probably waiting at the house with dinner. And you better behave, because Ms. (Y/L/N) will be our guest tonight”

- - -

The dinner table inside the Thrombey House was on the quiet side, even though the full family was in attendance. It wasn’t your first time attending such an event, but it wasn’t one you made frequent. The youth spent most of the meal on their phones while the adults chattered about various topics, and even asked you a few questions about future aspirations or opinions on the current state of something you probably couldn’t care less about tonight. Everyone tried to engage themselves in something, except for Ransom who picked at his food and made a few crass comments under his breath. You took the slight lull to speak up.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay for the evening. My car is stranded at Ransom’s and getting an Uber this late in the evening is-”

“(Y/N), you’re my go-to girl, my secretary, practically my personal assistant. I couldn’t allow for anything bad to happen to you. You’re far too... valuable to be lost,” Linda never spoke like this, unless she needs to boast about her own self-made business and image.

“In fact,” it was now Richard’s turn to begin boasting about how you were so helpful to the entire Drysdale family and coordinating the funeral and this and that and you just couldn’t comprehend why such a family always had to one-up each other. It simply had to be exhausting.

Fran then entered into the dining area and began clearing plates. You offered to assist her, but she mustered up a smile that said she could handle it by herself. When she came around to take your plate, a neatly folded piece of paper sat right underneath it. Quickly, you snatched it from its’ position, hoping to one saw the paper or your sly movements.

You thought you could get away with it until you felt a foot connect with your shin. Blue eyes met your own and you knew Ransom saw everything. He just seemed to always pay close attention to you, maybe a sign of concern or endearment. And you could tell exactly what his eyes were saying.

“Well, thank you, all of you with providing me dinner and a room for the night,” You quietly slid your chair back and stood.

“Of course, dear. Hugh,” Ransom peered to his mother as if surprised by her attention, “Please show, (Y/N), our guest room before you make your own exit for the evening.”

Ransom lead you easily up the oak staircase to the second floor where he pushed you inside what seemed to be a supply closet. A large supply closet mainly filled with old board games but still a simple closet.

“What was that paper you were so quick to hide?”

You tugged it out of your pocket and unfolded it, smoothing the creases so you could read the context better.

Asset protection is important for any and every company. X.

“This one doesn’t even make sense! How do you go from a direct attack on me to this- this load of shit!”

“Well, in my eyes a person who won’t make a better effort to threaten you or do it in a more accurate way is a piece of shit,” Ransom’s eyes skimmed over the paper, “But this time, it’s remarkably true. My parents admire your hard work for them, so you are an asset in a way.”

You felt fear knot up in your stomach, you couldn’t understand what someone could have against you. In every aspect, you were an honorable citizen who made a fair living. It just didn’t add up, “Where’s the guest room? I need to sleep.”

“Right, but I’m going to show you a different way into the guest room,” He grabbed your hand before leading you across the hall into another bedroom. The pair of you crept into the closet and Ransom kicked a panel in the wall. A door quickly slid open and the pair of you made your way up a little staircase, “Harlon just loved his hiding places”

“Ransom. If I’m in potential danger? What do I do? I don’t have to first clue in-

“Well, first of all, don’t be so damn trusting. It makes you an easier target. Second of all, find somewhere or someone you can stay with that you could seek comfort and safety in, at least until you feel safe.”

Both of you came to a stop as you made it to a small door. But a little idea popped into your head, “Well, could I stay in that big house of yours? I don’t have any family here and I refuse to go bankrupt in a motel room because of a potential stalker. I know it might be strange given our past flirtations, but I-”

“Wait, are you saying you want to move in with me?”

“Not really, move in. That would mean something completely different and- and completely out of the question because of my position in your moth-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can stay with me. It’ll be nice to have a welcomed guest around,” Ransom pushed open the door and emerged into the guest which felt like a victorian guest suite set up, “and that’s why we came in through the back”

In the front of the door was tripwire for a possible trap unseen, but just the thought stirred you in unpleasant ways. Ransom searched the room before finding three darts ready to fire at any notice, “I’m really looking like a good guy, stopping any threats before they happen.”

“Yeah, it’s almost out of character,” You grabbed the glass of water by the nightstand.

Quickly, Ransom snatched the water from your hand, leaving you shaking, “Niether of us brought a glass up with us and I’m not going to have a repeated visit to the hospital to be asked if I gave you a date rape drug.”

He entered the attached bathroom and poured its’ contents in the sink while you sat yourself upon the bed. Thinking of the events from today. Shakily, you looked up to Ransom, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I haven’t done anything. I-”

“Maybe someone is trying to get your attention,” He sat beside you and took your left hand into his right, using his thumb to caress the gentle skin, “And you still have me, though this is too far outside my comfort zone with any woman. If we’re going to keep ending up in life-or-death situations, trust that I will save you every single time.”

“Thank you, Ransom. For offering your assistance. For making sure I don’t get myself hurt. For not being a huge dick to me also,” you laughed.

“Well, what’s my mother’s is mine, and I happen to like her little personal assist,” before he stood from the bed, he gave your knuckles a strangely gentle kiss, “good night, (Y/N). I’ll see you at Breakfast”

Everything blurred, including Ransom’s exit, as you feel into a soft slumber.

:———————————————————————:

let me know if you think this deserves a part 2 or anything!

#knives out #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombrey #ransom thrombey smut #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans in a sweater

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greycappedjester · 3 years

Note

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do.

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better.

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic. And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life.

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist.

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….”

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck.

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere.

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time.

In other words, it was a normal morning.

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt.

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider.

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.”

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web.

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore.

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”

#hq at hogwarts #atfo #cards #walking with my eyes open #call me your home at night #shuffling the deck #triwizard tournament #hq #dcst #dc #atsuhina #wow #okay i think i'm finally done with tags

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Man And His Cat

You both explore pet play.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult situations +18 , Pet play, Spanking, Oral, Its kinky

A/n: Sooo who wants smut? my quarantine imagine went down well so here is another dirty fic. This will probably be a mini series feel free to send me your kinks and I will try and incorporate them. I am still working on my other stories slowly but on a little writers block and I may or may not have re-watched superman vs batman so look out as there might be some more dc on the horizon because omg I nearly forggot how yummy they were. Anyway here is another smut piece for you all hope you enjoy xx

Taglist @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81

A Man And His Cat

You lounged across the sofa in your hello kitty onesie playing your xbox, you'd gotten Jurassic world evolution and was currently snickering letting your t-rex run around eating people. Henry was upstairs you could hear him moving around in the study. The door bell went off you quickly got up wrestling kal out of the way to answer it hearing the post man call out he had left it on the bin you thanked him bringing the large box inside with a few letters piled on top. Not thinking anything of it you brought the post in kicking the door shut behind you.

"Babe what the fuck?" You froze not sure at first what you'd done wrong

"Shit hands! hands! sanitize them quick! we cant take chances! Your not supposed to answer the door I've told you that! Were in London! For Christ sake" He said rushing to you snatching the post handing you the sanitizer that sat on the table by the door. You shook your head quickly rubbing the sanitizer over your hands letting it soak in as Henry shook his head at you watching closely.

"Sorry, sorry I forgot" he sighed since receiving your official 'shielding' letter from the government Henry had been a little mother hen....papa bear? Either way he was on edge hounding you about keeping your hands clean not touching anything that could possibly be infected or letting anyone other than himself with in 6ft of you. He even made you take your temperature each day with good reason tho your heart clenched things were getting bad the infection and death rates climbing each day ,there was rumors that the UK was on the course to being just like Italy and Spain. In a way his worrying was your fault when the letter came through Henry had freaked out a bit, it hit him hard when he realized it wasn't just speculation it was a fact that if you caught this thing it would most likely kill you and he was shook to the core. It didn't help when you'd only told him a few days prior not to worry about your condition that it was under control ,which technically it was every two months you was having blood tests every so often your blood count would dip a little but you normally managed it with your diet just eating more meat usually does it, the protein helping your count go up a little. You didn't bore him with the details he didn't need to know to much, you knew what to do and when to do it, it was normal for you. You feel yourself getting rough you get a blood test and up your steroids, you feel better you lower them back down the main goal being avoiding blood transfusions. But Henry had insisted he needed to know everything now he said it'd make him feel better so you told him, sat him down and explained that somehow your body can survive on a borderline blood count it should be 120 to 150 yours hovers around 100 to 110... If your lucky, not low enough for a transfusion but low enough to cause a few problems if it drops any more the lowest it got in recent years was 57.... yeah that wasn't fun, you'd spent two whole days seven till seven getting transfusions then had to go back to have the iron in your blood taken out....It was not pretty, but since then you'd been more careful. You explained the fact that your immune system was practically non-existent you caught chicken pox a year before and it nearly killed you two days after the spots appeared causing all sorts of issues pneumonia, bacterial infections in the heart and lungs then sepsis resulting in a few weeks in hospital in the infectious diseases unit so yeah safe to say catching this thing would be bad. Henry bless him was gobsmacked he knew you was anemic ,that was it, he had enough on his plate you didn't want to add to it.You leaned back on the side unit by the door trying to pet kal who sniffed at your hand then snorted walking off, he didn't like the sanitizer one bit.

"Henry I'm sorry I just-it keeps slipping my mind" he nodded wrapping you up in a bear hug resting his chin on your head.

"I know baby I'm sorry for snapping... I just don't want to loose you, stay indoors and stay safe those aren't just the government's rules ,their my rules as well baby girl remember?" You nodded kissing his chest before replying.

"Yes daddy" then turned and walked to the living room again noticing kal playing in his small cubby hole that had been a cupboard until recently, it had been turned into his own little bed room, complete with bed, night light and shelves that had some family photos of the three of you, you blew him a kiss and he huffed plonking his head down on his fluffy bed stretching out ready for his morning nap, you settled back down to play your game. Henry used the sanitizer then ran a hand through his hair sighing he picked up the post bringing it in placing the large box on the counter. He smirked realizing what it was. His order from bondara ignoring the letters he quickly got a knife slicing open the box. Henry routed around in the box like a kid on Christmas excited he headed up stairs to collect his other investments. You was pulled out of your game by Henry combing your hair back with his fingers pulling it up and back into a high ponytail, something you had no idea he could do, you paused the game turning to him but he held you still facing the TV then you felt them. He had clipped your little fluffy grey kitty ears in your hair pulling the pony tail tighter to secure the bottom of the crocodile clips. You brought a hand up to them confused a little touching them softly. He walked to the side smiling cooing at you

"There she is my precious little kitty! Just look at how cute you are?" You flushed at him as he bent down petting between your 'ears' then he growled in your ear.

"I could just eat you all up" you mewled rocking on the sofa a little anticipating the way this would turn out he gasped a little.

"But whats this? you still need your collar how will anyone know you have a loving owner if you don't have a cute little collar on?" he strode across the room plucking something from the box and retrieved a few more items from the counter that you hadn't known was there ,now tho you could clearly see a folded black towel you moaned at the implication he must have brought it down from upstairs turning he made his was back to you this time standing in front of you.

"As much as I did like your own kitten collar I got you a new one, not from bondara I didn't like theirs much but thankfully etsy is still up and running, here it is see?" You gasped as he revealed a pink leather choker with a pretty lace and ruffle design making it look more like a fancy Lolita choker then a kitty collar apart from the large rose gold D ring hanging from the middle just below a dark pink bow and medium-sized rose gold bell You quickly made to grab for it but he pulled it out of reach .

"No let me do it" you quickly held your head high stretching your neck for him to put it on he chuckled at how eager you was, you smiled wide as he quickly placed it around your neck you sighed when you felt the inside was a little padded with a soft almost suede like material. He spun it around so the bell and D ring was central then hooked two fingers inside checking how tight it was satisfied that it wouldn't choke you he pulled away and watched you closely then he sighed

"No ... its still not right is it kitten?" You tilted your head feeling a little ashamed?upset? he didn't like it? Did he think you were ugly? You blinked frowning at him bottom lip wobbling a little as you were on the brink of tears pulling back from him.

"What-" he shushed you placing a finger to your lips

"Kittens don't talk, now there is something missing pet, Ah! I know now this might be it" he said and picked up a small shiny matching rose gold heart tag, he held it to you to read it. On one side it said kitten the other had 'Property Of Henry If Lost Call' and his phone number on it you gasped a little opening your mouth the thank him but he snapped his fingers at you.No talking. You pouted mewling up at him again not sure how to communicate how much you loved it. Then you clicked leaning forward licking his hand biting lightly before tilting your head nuzzling his crotch. You smirked as his breath hitched in his throat and he grunted swearing quietly unable to stop himself from grinding on your head a little then stopped as you pulled back he grunted again rearranging himself in his bottoms. He made quick work of threading the tag onto the D ring he kissed your head

"Good girl and look baby it was a set" he leaned over you picking up a thick soft paracord lead in pink with leather handle decorated to match your new collar clipping it onto the D ring then looped it around his hand tugging lightly prompting you off of the sofa once you stood he quickly undid the buttons on the onesie letting it fall leaving you naked in the room. You shivered nipples puckering as the soft lead grazed your breasts and tummy as he moved, stepping out of the onesie Henry kicked it across the room.

"There we are kitten, nearly finished now down" he said barley containing his excitment you got down on your hands and knees before him holding his gaze rubbing your thighs together rocking side to side trying to caress your tingling clit between your lips as you felt small trickle of your arousal escape onto the floor mewling at the tiny flickers of pleasure it caused. Henry lead you across the living room to the island in the kitchen crawling was a little tricky at first but you soon found a smooth rhythm staying beside him smiling as the bell tinkled at every movement you made, he smiled down at you from this angle you could already see the bulge forming in his trousers, you went to sit down when he stopped only to have him fold the lead in one hand an strike you with it lightly across your breasts making you yelp out then moan looking down seeing a red stripe across them.

"No sitting until your told now ass up, good kitten just like that" you complied preening at his praise. He bent down holding out a fluffy grey kittytail plug you squealed a little bending further down pushing your tender breasts to the cold floor looking back at him expectantly waving your ass in the air at him. He laughed and crouched beside you running a hand across your dripping pussy he leaned over kissing your head growling as his fingers massaged your wet center you moaned pushing back on him, he dragged his fingers to your opening plunging two thick fingers inside crooking them trying to scoop out more of your cum holding the plug just below you arched pushing back skimming your breasts across the cool floor trembling as he fucked you slowly bringing the plug to your clit and pressing it in small circles making you buck against him moaning and keening in higher pitches.

"Oh looks like I may have wasted money on lube hey baby? all wet and ready for me already such a precious thing." he ran the plug along your ass smearing your arousal across you all the way down to your slit you moaned as he spread his fingers out pulling your lips with them revealing your quivering hole to the cold air of the room making you gasp and clench as the freezing metal plug passed over it resting heavy on your clit, bucking a little you whined pushing back a little as the cold metal met your heated wet flesh, he held it still letting you warm the toy before running it back and forth slowly twisting it letting your arousal coat it wanting to make sure it was wet enough for him to push it in once satisfied he lifted it moving one hand to your bottom then began pressing it insistently at your tight little pucker. You whined placing the side of your face on the cool tile looking at him, he stroked your head shushing you when he realized just how much bigger this was from the last one

"Ok kitten now try to hold still one big deep breath just like before...Good girl now out push on your bottom" you nodded whining bearing down on the toy as he held your shoulder using it to pull you back as he started pressing the tail further into you. You arched taking deep breaths when the plug seemed to get wider and wider you shook your head trying to arch away as it stung despite your arousal easing the way, you panicked a little as it seemed to keep stretching becoming sore as your tight ring tried fighting it .

"N-no its to muc-AAHH!" you cried out , he shushed you

"Come on kitten... Nearly there....Just a tiny bit more I promise......Push out again for me good girl! shh that’s it...Such a good girl for me......Ah ah no! stop moving bab-baby no no don't do-HEY! enough!-you’ll hurt yourself!" He scolded you as you tried to push against his hand on your shoulder to wriggle away then when that didn't work you unconsciously tried tucking your bottom beneath you whimpering. He stopped you with a quick volley of sharp spanks you yelped as his hot hand heated your ass, then there was a familiar popping sensation as your bottom swallowed the plug closing snug around it. He had used the distraction to quickly push the last of the plug in with a quick little shunt. You pushed up on your hands breathing heavy as the plug was indeed larger then the one you had used before, you ached as your ass tried fighting it wanting to push it out you let out pitiful breathy moans as you rippled around it.

"Daddy? Its big-im not sure-FUUCK OOHH" you cut yourself off moaning loud when he grabbed the tail and gave a small tug smirking as you cried out then followed it trying to ease the pressure he thrusted it a few times hitting something deep that made you arch high and squeal pressing back on to it as your pussy ceased and your clit throbbed so hard it almost felt raw he let go then twisted on his feet petting your head drawing patterns on your back.

"Oh baby I know its hard but your a kitten and kittens don't talk , if you carry on daddy will gag you understand?" you nodded at him pressing your head into his chest and kissed it softly wanting a little comfort, hissing deep breaths as you clenched around the tail plug whining, he brought the hand from your back and rubbed around the plug pressing it lightly.

"Its a little bigger but look at you? such a good girl look at that pretty little tail now just one more thing and you'll be daddies perfect kitty" he stood back up getting the remaining items a set of mittens that had no thumb piece instead just one Little pouch to fit your hand in with little paw prints on them they would be held on by two thin leather wrist cuffs. you wriggled around now growing accustomed to the bulbous plug pressing on your insides moaning as the ache became more a pleasurable throb you rocked a little in the air mouth open gasping as you rocked faster feeling the plug press against the back wall of you pussy, Henry quickly snatched up your hands one after the other locking them into the paw mittens. He stood back groaning loud as he watched cupping his erection rubbing along the bulge moaning rocking his hips into his palm as you kept arching your back. The sight was more erotic then he could have dreamed, he almost drooled as you rotated and wriggled your hips pushing back and forth trying to make your plug hit the spot he had pressed it to earlier moaning with closed eyes flushing a bright red, flinching as the tail ghosted your legs as it swayed behind you, turning you looked at the soft tail hanging between your legs giggling as the soft fur licked at your thighs. He snapped out of it and tugged you moving slower this time you stopped every so often moaning and whimpering as each step make your pussy twitch as the plug pressed against the back wall of it teasing your sensitive flesh from the wrong side by the time you got to the sofa both thighs were wet and you was shaking with need he sighed sitting down on it legs spread holding the lead tight keeping your head close to his crotch

"Come on baby time for your little treat" he said motioning for you to pull him free you brought your hands up fumbling with the zipper only really achieving to rub him through them ,making him grind against your hands throwing his head back you groaned in frustration whimpering at him resting your head in the inside of his thigh running your nose across the bulge sighing he looked down then petted you between your ears again.

"Oh kitten you can do better then that come on get daddy out." you pouted at him and nipped his thigh with your front teeth making him hiss and tug harshly on the lead growling at you before wrapping the cord around his fist once more pressing your nose into his crotch

"Bite me again kitten and see what happens, you think I wont fuck your throat raw? Ram into your mouth until my cock is choking you? Face fuck you until your pass out? I wouldn't test me kitten not now Ive waited to long to have you like this." His low ground out threats made you moan you couldn't wait until he fucked your mouth, already craving his salty taste, you kissed his cock through his trousers licking at it, it made you realize what you should do you trembled tucking your knees underneath you to keep your weight off of the plug you licked a long strip up the front of his trousers wetting them making him grunt again, one hand rested on your head petting you, you smirked watching through your lashes as he started flushing and panting, he loved it when you did this it was the only time he let you tease mostly because he was enjoying himself to much to fight for control, for all his talk of wanting control you think he secretly liked being at your mercy every once in a while, you poked out your tongue grazing his zipper then bit down making sure to press on him harshly making him yelp and hiss though clenched teeth when you dragged it down, he fumbled quickly undoing his top button and shimmied them down his hips giving you enough room to bite his boxers and pull them down....only you didn't you wrapped your lips over them sucking on him hard through them making sure to soak his boxers with spit making him groan giving a thrust up to your face fisting his fingers in you hair a little careful not to pull off the ears.

"FUCK kitten!! Oh GOD! fuck pleaseplease do that again!! come on once more such a good girl" you did taking your sweet time kissing and suckling on him nudging him with your nose pushing him up and latched onto the sensitive underside of his cock running your teeth over his hot flesh rocking your hips left and right letting your pussy massage itself poking out your tongue you flattened it running it up the vein near his head pinning it to his hip then opened your mouth around it humming, he jerked up ass leaving the seat moaning out loud swearing at you for being a tease, you continued up finding his swollen crown you licked at it then his slit sucking again on him. He groaned loud and drawn out flexing his fingers and widened his legs you carried on enjoying having the man at your mercy for once kissing and sucking at his twitching length he began rocking faster panting.

"OH! yesyesYES Baby...WAIT HOLD ON!... Fuck slow down!Dont nono that's it kitten thats enough daddies going to cum! NO! ENOUGH!" you giggled as he used the lead to jerk you away panting and sweaty you thought it was funny you'd never heard him that desperate before, he normally had godlike restraint holding himself back for hours if he really wanted to, he gasped then ran a hand across his face and melted into to sofa fighting of the impending orgasm. You sat there biding your time once he relaxed you swooped back in ready to force him to cum in his boxers, but only managed one kitten lick before being jerked away again he growled at you in warning giving you a stern look then tugged of his top still panting.

"you cheeky little thing!" you grinned raising yourself to your knees running your hands up his thighs as you leaned in kissing along the v of muscles above his boxers licking at his skin then nuzzled him lightly ghosting his stomach with your nose placing butterfly kisses here and there feeling him flex trying to arch his cock up to you, you slowly made your way down again opening your mouth tilting your head to engulf the muscle just on his boxers waistband flattening your tongue relishing in the pleasure filled noises he let loose and in the same moment curled your fingers over it the elastic pulling it away letting him spring free hitting your chin. He grunted as you let go letting the elastic snap back onto his balls only letting his cock free he looked down at you giving you a heated look

"Careful baby you don't want to play these games with me" you blinked innocently at him smiling then began kissing lower until you was at the base of his cock ignoring the small patch of hair at his root kissing him obscenely with open mouthed wet kisses then licked him from base to tip before plunging down on him he groaned closing his eyes tight

"FUCK KITTEN! Oohh god that's so hot, shit your mouth is SO FUCKING HOT UGH!" You sucked him deep swallowing around him letting one hand wander to his balls cupping them and rolling them in your palm your other hand dropped between your legs and you ground yourself on your hand moaning onto his cock as you worked your clit in slow firm strokes making your new gloves sticky and wet from your arousal. He cried out desperately bucking into your mouth and throat moaning and crying out cutting off his own words as you kept changing your pace hearing your little bell jingle with your movements on him bobbing your head slow with harsh sucks to his head then fast making sure to swallow or moan as he hit your throat focused solely on making him cum. Today he would cum first you were going to make sure. You whined as you changed direction on your clit feeling the heat in your belly slowly make its way down settling in your hard clit rubbing and tapping at it moaning louder as your orgasm began to build. He shivered his thighs jerking and trembling as you pointed your tongue pressing on the sensitive vein underneath it he shook his head clutching at the sofa grunting breathlessly each time he felt the vibrations of your throat moaning on him.

"BABY BABY STOP! I cant fuck please its to much- no nononono not yet I FuckFU-Fuuuck ah AH AH OH SHIT FUUUUUUCK" you ignored him, he was so lost that he had forgotten the lead, you used it to your advantage pulling back and sucking hard on his head licking at his slit then gripped his sack squeezing it tight as it tensed upwards then with one small drag of your teeth he whimpered loud and high releasing in your mouth jerking himself uncontrollably into your mouth face fucking you just like he threatened. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back but decided to go further swallowing as much of his cum you could but continued to suck and bob on him then cried out as your rocking hips found that perfect position on your clit making it throb and twitch your walls clenching, spasming making the plug move and caress your depths finally you screeched around his cock and came over your hand soaking the glove he yelped curling his feet into the floor shifting back trying to get away you followed placing your hands on his thighs pushing them back as he tried closing his legs trembling from your own release moaning and withering against him.

"UGH NOO FUCK STOPSTOPSTOOOP! ITS TO MUCH BA-KITTEN STOP IT NO PLEASE" he through his hands down blindly pushing you but you fought him wanting to torture him a bit, a little pay back for the other day you reasoned, but you couldn't fight him long even in his fucked out quivering state he was ten times stronger than you, you dragged your teeth across him one last time as he pushed you back off of him completely.

"Your a little bitch, you know that?" He said head tilted back and one arm draped across his eyes heaving deep breaths you just giggled kissing his thighs

"Where the fuck did that come from Anyway?" You just smirked licking your lip trying to collect the cum that had escaped from your mouth he groaned watching your pink tongue darting out.

“Meow?” You were a dangerous little kitten he decided. He looked down feeling your wet mitten then frowned a little before smiling deviously.

"Oh kitten? You didn't touch yourself did you?" You froze a little then sent him coy glance pulling your hands down slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. He caught your offending hand quickly

"Did you?" You shrugged feigning innocence as he pulled your hand up sniffing it you blushed

"It certainly smells like you" you whined at him flushing embarrassed making him chuckle, he licked a long strip of of the mitten slapping his lips as he puled away tutting.

"Oh i think you did didn't you? Because daddy knows exactly how you taste and that my sweet little kitten is definitely you on this little mitten, such a needy little kitty hm? Did suckling on daddy really make you that desperate? Poor little baby" you panted as he bent forward his pupils dominated the blue of his eyes hot and playful all in one he peered down at the wooden floor sighing.

"Such a messy little pussy you have" he pushed you back a little you ducked when his leg swung over you and he got up walking to the counter again you watched carefully as he approached the box you took the time to admire his taught ass as he bent forward a little reaching inside picking something out then folded the towel over his arm then hear the distinct sound of leather cracking on an open palm. You snapped out of your ass worshiping gaze eyes flicking to his hands as he spun around looking at him as he held a new leather paddle with a paw print on it he smiled slyly crooking a finger at you. Come here. You gulped then rose from your spot on the floor crawling toward him gulping.

"You know kitten you was very reckless at the door earlier it was very naughty trying to torture daddy and playing with yourself without permission? I think you should be.....Corrected shall we say, for future reference just as a deterrent?. After all prevention is better then cure isn't it?" he licked his lips watching you squirm on the spot just across the kitchen island he tested the small paddle again. Your whole body ceased up as he stared at you.

"Erm N-no lets not how about best two out of three? You know three strikes and your out?" He chuckled shaking his head.

"Oh baby but that was three strikes and how many times do i have to tell you? kittens don't talk do they?" You pouted trying to sit your bottom down only to jerk it back up as your tail plug pressed deeper and the soft fur tickled your leg... not only that you didn't want to get it wet with your arousal

"Come kitten what do you say?" You blushed

"Meow" his face lit up yet his eyes only got darker

"That’s it such a clever kitty, but I must say you will be getting more then three strikes of your new paddle trust me now come round here like a good girl" you crawled around to his side squeaking as he lifted you effortlessly bending you over the counter you hissed as your breasts squished into the freezing cold marble your toes didn't touch the floor as he shuffled you up with the edge of the island on your thighs. He stood off to the side a little admiring the way your grey tail hung between your legs, the pitiful noises were delicious he grunted feeling himself twitch already starting to harden again he patted you bottom drawing lines along the soft skin moving to your slit following up towards the plug lifting the tail holding it taught in a fist but not pulling it out just tugging enough to make it press down into your pussy from behind. You moaned squirming trying to follow it as he held it high toes scrabbling up the cupboard door failing.

"Oh baby that's so cute, you know I can see your pussy trying to find something to latch on to, does it feel hot? Is it empty? Sweet kitten you see if you had been a good girl following your rules, if you had stopped when daddy said and asked to touch yourself daddy would already be balls deep, battering away at your needy little pussy painting your insides with his cum... but no instead you hand to be a naughty girl and will have to settle for your paddle." You cried out as he circled your twitching clit as he spoke emphasizing words with shallow thrusts on his fingers he pulled away picking up the paddle striking your lower cheeks and pussy making you jump and moan hearing a wet slap as the sting settled in he pulled away running a hand over the pink spot

"Oohh look at that hah you have a little paw print on your tush now,I think fifteen will do don't you sweety? Five for each naughty thing you did? You know normally I would have you count and say thank you, but well seeing as your a kitten today you should meow instead" You groaned as he lifted it again slapping a bit harder this time you yelped as he aimed for the under curve of your left cheek then meowed dutifully.

"Very good again" he struck you again lower on your thigh no harder then before this time you meowed again moaning as your pussy clenched dripping on your touching thighs. You closed your eyes tight as he continued peppering your ass with the paddle the final five landed in quick succession on your weeping pussy you meowed loud and hard sobbing each pussy spank had directly struck the underside of your clit. Throwing the paddle on the counter he cupped your red swollen lips his hand cooling the burn. He smiled then tilted his hips up bringing his fully erect cock to your entrance. Throwing the towel down on the floor. You sobbed higher as he drew lines on your slit teasing your muscles you jerked against him just on the edge of cumming kicking out your legs.

"You know I have been doing some reading about squirting, I think I've sussed out how to make it happen on command shall we test it out?" You shook your head grunting as he thrust forward you cried out feeling him force your walls apart making room for his fat throbbing cock it stung more then ever with your weight on your tummy and plug in your ass but you loved it.

"Ugh! NOOO!AH AH FUCK!" You mewled grunting at each punishing thrust stretching you he was fighting the plug in your ass for room holding firm he grinded your clit you screeched as he angled his hips and tugged up on the tail making the embedded metal run along his cock growling. Before you knew what happened your body ceased walls tightened clamping around his cock moaning and gasping releasing, flooding over him he laughed groaning as your steady stream of cum hit his abdomen and washed over him.

"Oh fuck! yes I knew you could do it good girl, fuck that's so HOT! again more come on baby you can do it! Give it to daddy once more then I'll fill you" he grunted doubling his efforts stroking his cock around inside of you giving sharp tugs to your tail jolting you back against him to meet his brutal hips making you whimper at the harsh treatment one of his hand snuck below you pinching your clit almost jerking it off.

"FUCK I’m nearly there KITTEN! OH SHIT! Fuckfuckfuck you better fucking cum for me! Or I'll get the wand out again!" That did it You threw your head back placing your toes on the cupboard door rocking against him cumming again long and hard, so hard you couldn't make a sound all the air left you and you just hung there your mouth hanging open in a silent scream he grunted gabbing your shoulders pulling you back to him making your spine curve painfully as you fell apart around him again your sopping pussy sucking on him trying to trap him with on final painful thrust he growled rubbing his cock head on your cervix releasing torrents of cum into you. He lowered your shoulders down feeling you go limp taking a moment to catch his breath then he pulled the box towards him panting heavy fishing out another plug

"NOnonono please Henry no moreIi cant-I came again I promise I did please don't get the wand out!" You panicked pleading with him as his hand disappeared into the box pushing back on him, he smiled waving a dildo plug on your face

"Not a wand see this is for your pussy love, to keep my cum inside you for the rest of the day.....after all you was a bad kitten" you mewled relaxing happy he wasn't going to torture you again to tired to argue you laid still as he pulled himself from you quickly plugging you up before anything could escape. You moaned and wriggled he slid you off of the counter to you feet quickly supporting you as you nearly dropped to the floor smirking a smug little smile you reached behind you to pull the tail from you he smacked your hand away

"Ohh no I think I will have you stay like this all day, at least then I know you wont answer the door" you gaped then pouted at him crossing your arms at him

"A-all day? What if I get cold" he chuckled walking across to the sofa throwing you his tshirt you quickly tried slipping it on but dropped it due to your mittens you sulked stamping a foot he pulled on his boxers then returned picking up the tshirt sliding it on you then quickly undid the mittens you flexed your fingers when they were free , he collected the damp towel on the floor wiping down your thighs and between your legs you took the other end patting his pelvis down blushing realizing just how much mess you'd made you looked down still wiping him tears sprung to your eyes sniffling

"Oh god this is so embarrassing" could hear the quiver in your voice, ready to cry out of shame he growled not having non of that he shook his head hooking his fingers into your collar pulling you up on your tiptoes forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Not its fucking hot! I cant believe how sexy that was feeling you cum so thoroughly, drenching me uncontrollably, fuck it was the most amazing feeling! And I cant wait to make you soak me again and again, one day I’m going to drink it from you." You blushed shocked by his words as he leaned in kissing you passionately sucking on your tongue he pulled away tossing the towel into the washing machine then pulled the leather cuffs from the loops in the mittens throwing then in as well quickly turning it on to rinse and dry. Then quickly he scooped you up settling back on the couch, you squirmed pulling the tail from under you he held it up your back lightly then handed you the controller.

"Now show me your Jurassic park d-did you let the t rex out?" You smiled giggling at him nodding then snugged back into him as you started making a new paddock in the game. These next few months were going to be the best of your life if today was anything to go by.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #quarantine writing

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