the one with textures felt off

I’ll Be Seeing You

MASTERLIST

SEND ME A REQUEST

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary: You lost your vision at a young age due to an infection in your brain and you’ve coped with it well. You’re a successful professor at a local university, casually making your way down the hall when your friend and college Helen Cho introduces you to Bucky. You grow close over several months of late night coffee and the occasional stay in your apartment, but Bucky doesn’t want to tell you who he really is in fear of scaring you off. What happens when a miracle procedure might give you back your sight?

Warnings: light swearing, blind!reader (for most of it), bad editing sorry

Words: 4726

A/N: Okay before you read this, I am not blind, I do not know anyone who is blind and therefore this is my BEST ATTEMPT to write from the perspective of someone who is visually impaired. Please don’t be too hard on this. 


It’s amazing just how much of someone you can see when you can’t actually see them.

Your day started out like it always did; with the sound of your alarm blaring in your ear. You reached out to tap at your phone screen, one, two, three times until you finally hit the correct place that disabled the alarm.

The wind whistled outside and you heard the patter of rain outside of your small apartment. It must be horrible weather outside, you thought to yourself. You pulled the covers of your bed off of your body and sat up, dangling your feet over the edge of the mattress. 

You propped yourself out of your bed’s compound, feeling along the wall to find the door so you could walk out of your bedroom. Once you’d managed to exit your room, you traced your hand along the walls of the hallways until your fingers caught on a doorway, you turned right.

Your life had been like this for as long as you could remember. You’d lost your sight when you about three years old due to a rare brain infection that the doctors caught a few days too late. It wasn’t all too troubling to you know, you were in your late twenties and had a wonderful job working as an assistant professor at a local university. 

You were happy, every piece of your life seemed to be falling into place… Except of course for love.

You’d been single for so long you almost forgot what it was like to feel someone’s tight and loving embrace or how attached you can get to the smell of someone you love.

So many people had set you up on blind dates - and so many people had made the blind date joke - that every time a friend brought up a ‘wonderful guy’ they knew, you’d shut it down instantly. The blatant truth about every man you’d gone out with on those set ups was this; no one wanted to date the blind girl.

You’d all but given up as you attended friend’s weddings and baby showers, some of them. Perhaps you weren’t cut out for that kind of life, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

As you went through the motions of making coffee that you’d all but memorized, you felt the empty space of the base of your left ring finger and sighed heavily. 

You drank your coffee in silence, your mind drifting off to the possible face of whoever Mr. Right might be, not that you’d ever see it for yourself.

When you made it back to your closet in your room, you peeled off your sleep shirt, feeling the hangers that hung in your closet for the braille lettering that told you what was hung there.

mom’s favourite dress’

That one you remembered the texture of, it was soft and lightweight but felt beautiful on. You decided that this would be perfect.

You put it on, walking back to your front door and feeling inside the drawers to grab for a pair of flats, which you found instantly by their feel.

You slipped them on and took your keys from the hook that you felt on your right, waiting for the familiar honk of a horn signifying your ride was here. When you heard the sound, you reached forward and grasped the cool metal of the door knob, twisting it and pulling it open, making sure to grab your long cane before you walked out.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A voice, which you recognized as your co-professor, Helen Cho said.

“Hey!” You said as you felt the padlock for the keyhole, locking it and turning to walk down your porch towards the sound of the idling car.

You felt your cane hit the car lightly, so you felt along the smooth metal surface until you found the handle, opening it and getting inside.

The smell of the mint car air freshener hit your noise rather violently when you entered, but you got used to it after a while.

“Big day today.” Helen said as you began moving.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“I managed to convince Banner to come and give a lecture on gamma rays.”

“Are you serious?” You gasped. You knew Helen worked for some high end clientele from time to time and only really took up the co prof job because she needed to be busy, but you didn’t know she had that much pull.

“Uh huh.” She said.

“Holy hell.” You mustered, “So we don’t even have to lecture today?”

“Nope, we push everything back for tomorrow.”

“It’s like a day off.” You laughed.


“And so, gamma radiation acts as an invasive form of…”

You had been zoning back in and out of Banner’s lecture, not that it really mattered anyways. It had been about a half hour so you excused yourself, taking your cane and making your way back out into the hallway to take a small walk to stretch your legs. 

You’d made it about halfway down the familiar hallway when you heard a very unfamiliar voice accompanying that of Helen Cho.

“I know it’s hard for you being here, but I figured it would be good for you to meet her, I mean you’re perfect for each other- Oh, hello, (Y/N). Bored of the lecture already?” Helen’s voice said.

“Not that Banner isn’t a wonderful public speaker,” You mused, “But gamma radiation isn’t new for me. Nothing to learn really.”

“I figured as much,” She laughed, “Oh, this is-”

“Bucky.” The voice said.

Bucky had extended his hand shake yours but Helen nudged him and nodded down at the white cane you held in your hand and he understood, his face flushing bright red.

“Okay everyone, I’m blind not stupid.” You laughed, sensing what he’d done based on an immeasurable amount of experience and the awkward silence.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said, extending your own hand out, which he took.

His hands were warm and rough and calloused, large palms and long fingers but comfortingly so.

“And you.” He replied, something along the lines of shock in his tone, but you shrugged it away. 

“Well, I’ll let you to get back to it.” You said, quickly dismissing yourself and turning to walk back down the hall when Helen stopped you.

“Wait!” 

You turned back around.

“Bucky and I were going to go out for drinks later tonight, I figured you might want to join?”

You hesitated, social outings weren’t your thing, and Helen knew that.

“Or maybe just coffee?” She rephrased.

“Sure, if you want to meet at my place around 9?”

“God, you are such a nightowl.” Helen laughed.

“Yes or no, dearest, it’s not that hard.” You chided her.

“We’ll be there.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Nice meeting you Bucky.”

You finished your day quickly and thanked Helen when she dropped you back off at your apartment, ignoring the ‘wear something nice’ comment she made. You knew she was saying was ‘wear something nice because Bucky is going to be there’, but you didn’t say anything about it.

You didn’t know Bucky, you weren’t looking to impress him. If he turned out to be a great guy after tonight and you saw each other again, maybe you’d consider the whole ‘looking really good’ thing, but not yet. You didn’t want to put that much effort into an appearance that you couldn’t even appreciate yourself.

You made yourself a quick dinner. An aspect of your life that seemed to shock everyone around you was how well you coped independently. You were able to do almost everything by yourself based on muscle memory, hearing, scent, and a little intuition. 

By the time you politely asked siri what time it was, it was around 8:30. You decided to change into a pair of jeans and a soft knit sweater, your favourite one.

You let your hair down from its fastened bun, loose curls hitting your face softly.

A sound of a car door slamming made you slowly make your way to the front door of your flat. You instantly noted that it wasn’t the same sound of slam as Helen’s car.

A buzzer went off and you pressed the button at the door, “Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s Bucky.” The voice answered, and you remembered him by the sound.

You liked his voice a lot, it was rough and a bit patchy, but low and smooth sounding somehow.

You unlocked your door and swung it open.

“Hi.” You greeted him, stepping to the side to allow him in.

“Helen sort of bailed.” He admitted, and you noticed that his voice still came from in front of you meaning he hadn’t entered in yet.

This was another schemed date attempt on Helen’s part and you only now figured it out. You mentally cursed yourself for not being wise enough to see through it.

“I just figured I’d swing by and tell you, you probably don’t want to spend the night with a total stranger.” You heard him take a few steps back.

“Well, who said that?” You asked, as if your words came out faster than you could process.

There was something about this man that you liked quite a lot, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. He had an aura about him that you found relaxing.

“The coffee pot is already on, I won’t be able to drink it all by myself.” You said with a smile.

“Alright.” He replied and you felt the wind brush by you as his large frame made it’s way past you.

“Make yourself at home.” You said, moving back into the kitchen once you’d closed the door, “How do you take coffee?”

“Just black would be wonderful.” He said as you waited to hear him sit down on the couch, but no such sound came, “Can I help with anything?”

“Gosh no, sit your ass down.” You laughed, and were overjoyed to hear him do the same.

“Okay, okay.” He said, his footsteps moving back to the living room where he sat on the couch.

You poured the coffee into mugs and carried them out to where Bucky was, knowing he was on the couch. You handed one to him, slightly to the side but close enough that he could reach it, then made your way over to sit beside him.

“So since it’s now just the two of us, I suppose I should get to know you.” You said.

“Suppose so.” You felt him shift uncomfortably, which made you feel like you needed to back off ever so slightly.

“Unless of course you don’t want to.” You added.

“No, it’s alright. i just don’t usual talk much about myself.” He said.

Bucky wanted to open up to you, just like he wanted to open up to anyone, but you seemed incredibly sweet based on what he’d heard from Helen, and you seemed to not know his history quite yet, so he was unsure about the whole thing.

“Well, you can ask me things and I’ll answer, and if you feel alright with it, you can answer too.” You suggested, sipping your coffee.

“That’s great.” Bucky smiled at your compromise.

For nearly two hours, Bucky asked you a multitude of questions about yourself stemming from what your favorite food was all the way to how old you were when you went blind. After a while, he told you that he wanted you to ask him a few questions, so you asked him all about his childhood and where he grew up.

Brooklyn was a great place, he explained to you, full of really great people. You loved listening to the sound of his words when you knew a smile appeared on his face, it made everything sound sweeter from his lips.

You were beginning to really like Bucky, you felt a strong bond with him that you hadn’t felt in a long while, and you were enjoying every second of time you spent with him.

“Alright, can I ask you one more thing?” You inquired as a fit of laughter bubbled back down from your chest.

“‘Course.”

“What’s your favourite colour and why?”

“Hmm,” He pondered, “Blue. It’s really calming. Plus it matches my eyes.”

You nodded your head with a laugh, “I wish I knew what colours looked like.”

What you said nearly broke Bucky’s heart, he’d answered the question so nonchalantly.

“I thought you lost sight at three.” He said.

“I did, but even before then I was completely colour blind.”

“Oh,” He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You said, “I asked the question because it’s always interesting for me to hear what different people answer… I’ve always felt like I’d like blue as well.”

“Yeah?” He asked, “Why so?”

“Everyone always says it’s calming, or cool, or reminds them of the ocean. It sounds pretty.”

Bucky stared at you in amazement as a thoughtful smile played on your lips.

“Can I ask you something else?” He said.

“Yeah.”

“How do you recognize people?” He whispered.

“Most of it is by voices, or smells,” You explained, “And if I’m close with someone, I usually memorize their face.”

“Memorize their face?”

“Here, like this.” You said, setting your cup down and reaching your fingertips forward until they landed on his cheeks gently. Your one hand moved to his brow, the other down to his brush over his nose. 

You noticed that he’d tensed when you’d first touched him, but seemed to relax a bit more as your moved you hands along him gingerly.

Your fingers brushed down the stubble that dotted his face, moving down to the strong jawline that lay beneath it. Your other hands moved to brush over his closed eyelids, feeling the long eyelashes under them. The thumb that rested by his jaw went to trace ever so gently along upper lip, then back along his lower. You couldn’t help but noticed the cool air pass by your thumb as he sucked in a breath at your touch.

He felt so handsome, and the conversations that you’d had over the past hour only made you more attracted to him.

“Keep your eyes closed and try to do the same to my face.” You suggested, breaking the silence.

In a moment, you felt one hand reach out and press to your cheek, a thumb tracing its way from your brow down to your nose and lips, resting on your bottom lip much like you had to him.

A sigh came from him as you pressed a small kiss to the pad of his thumb. He couldn’t quite comprehend how sweet you’d been with him, but he wasn’t going to question it not even for a second.

“You should try two hands.” You said, but Bucky looked down at the hand he wasn’t using, the ugly metal limb, and told you he could get by on just using one.

Your index finger made a trail from his chin down his throat and along his adam’s apple, which caused him to swallow rather hard. You knew the impact that you were having on him and it was something that you were proud of.

When your finger made it’s way back up to his lips, Bucky knew he was done for. You were possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and feeling your touch like this was intoxicating.

“One more question.” He whispered.

“Okay.” You said, enjoying the way his lip felt as it moved under you thumb when he spoke.

“Can I please kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t reply with words, you simply leaned in and kissed him, your lips replacing the spot where your thumb had been. You had never kissed anyone quite like that before, so full of passion. It was as if Bucky was kissing you like he hadn’t been kissed in a long time, and like he worried he might never get the chance again.

When Bucky left that night, you pecked him on the lips again quickly, and he assured you that he’d be in touch. 

 mjjm  xHe kept to his word, calling the next day and setting up another late night coffee date. It continued this was for a good few months, each other you getting together multiple times a week to talk, or listen to music, drinking various kinds of coffee all the while. There were times when he’d even stay the night.

The dangerous part of it all was that Bucky knew he was falling in love with you, but he still didn’t know how to tell you who he was. It scared him so badly because he knew you couldn’t love someone like him. A girl like you, with a beautiful heart who brought smiles to the faces of everyone she met, would never fall in love with him.

It was on one night when he was over at your place that he noticed you seemed different. He tried to shrug it off, to get you to laugh, but you wouldn’t.

Fearing the worst, he asked you what was wrong.

“There’s this trial,” You said, “A doctor called me saying I was eligible to be apart of it. They think they can reboot the part of my brain that causes my blindness. They think they can get me to see, again.” You said, your eyes filling with tears of an emotion Bucky couldn’t recognize.

“That’s great, doll!” He said, rubbing your shoulders.

“I know it is, I’m just terrified of the whole thing.” You admitted, “I’ve lived almost my whole life like this.”

“I know, darlin’, but there’s so much out there that you’re missin’.”

“Can I ask you another question?” You said.

“Of course you can.”

“Can you wait during the procedure? They told me if there was someone I wanted with me, they could wait there and come in afterwards.”

Bucky was shocked that you’d want him there, but he agreed with his whole heart, promising he’d take you there himself.

“I want you to be the first face I see.” You said with a smile.

Bucky had never heard anything so beautiful in his life, so he leaned in to kiss you with everything he had, unable to reply with words.

“I love you.” He blurted out.

You, shocked as anything, pulled away from him. Bucky knew he’d messed up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” He began but you shushed him.

“I love you too.”

“What?” He asked.

“I love you too.” You repeated.

“(Y/N).” He whispered, pressing his lips back to yours again.

As happy as he was to hear it, he knew that he needed to tell you who he was. If he was going to lose you, then he needed to put himself through it now and not when you put the pieces together yourself.

“I need to tell you something.” He said between feverish kisses.

“Alright.” You said, still keeping up with the kissing.

“I’m not who you think I am.” He said, trying to slow you down.

“What does that mean?” You said, pressing another peck to his lips.

“I’m not- I did- I’m-”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier?” You deadpanned and Bucky’s jaw dropped, “C’mon, did you think I didn’t know? We met through Helen who doesn’t talk about it, but works with the Avengers, you never stand to my right which means you avoid touching me with your left side, and when you talk about your childhood, it’s painstakingly obvious that you didn’t grow up in the 90′s like most people my age.”

“You knew?”

“I didn’t until the first night you stayed over.” You told him truthfully.

You squeezed his hand when you felt him shift uncomfortably at the memory. Bucky had a terrible nightmare when he’d slept on the couch of your flat one night, and you had to sprint out of your bed to wake him.

Managing to find him, you’d shaken his shoulder gently, pleading for him to wake up until you’d felt him jolt upright.

He asked your name and you explained to him that he’d had a nightmare. You’d instantly sensed his embarrassment as he apologized for waking you, but you were having none of it. 

You knew him well enough at that point to know that he was all talk when he was trying to convince you he’d fall back asleep just fine. You told him to come sleep in your room, and he stammered out what sounded like a dismissal.

Eventually, after telling him you’d hold your breath until he agreed, he caved. You walked him back to your bed, where he laid next to you  and held your hand all night.

Bucky might never tell you, but he got the best sleep of his life that night.

“You knew?” He asked again.

“Yes, and none of it means a damn thing to me.” 

You kissed him again with a burning passion, tongues dancing against one another as opened mouths melded together.

He’d never felt love like this in his life, and neither had you.


“I’m really scared.” You said as you sat in the gurney of the hospital a few weeks after yours and Bucky’s love confession.

“I know, doll, but it’s gonna go great. I’ll be right there when you wake up.” You felt Bucky’s stubble rub against your cheek as he pressed a kiss to it.

“That is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.” You mustered a small laugh.

You reached forward with both hands, silently asking him to hold them. You felt his right hand grasp your left, leaving your free hand empty.

“Buck…” You whispered, and he reluctantly held your other hand in his left.

You’d assured him that you liked the arm, it was cold and solid and you loved to press your hand to it and feel the plates rotate when he moved. You saw beauty in its mechanics.

“Is it bad that I’m nervous too?” Bucky asked.

“Not really, I will be seeing your face for the first time.”

“You’re not gonna call me ugly are you?”

You burst out laughing, “I know you’re not ugly.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“I’ve felt your face.”

“Huh, you can tell by that?” He asked.

“Oh, yes,” You replied, “You’re far from ugly.”

A small laugh passed his lips, and you felt your heart flutter. You loved his laugh so much that it had quickly become your favourite sound on the planet, right in front of the almost unnoticeable sound of the vibranium plates in his arm shifting about late at night when he shifted in his sleep.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” You heard the door open and shut closed as someone entered the room.

“Yes?” You asked.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Bucky kissed your forehead as you were wheeled into the operating room, holding your one hand tightly and whispering words of comfort until he was told that he couldn’t go any further with you.

“I love you.” You said, receiving a peck on the lips.

“I love you too.” He said back, “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll see you after.”

“Yes, you will.”

You felt his hand slowly retreat as they wheeled you into the room and strapped you down with IVs and God knows what else. When you felt a mask go over your face and you were instructed to count downwards from ten, you enjoyed your last few seconds of darkness before you went under.


When you woke you couldn’t see a thing, which alarmed you to an extent that is completely indescribable.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), you’re up.” A woman said, “The procedure was a success.” 

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“You have a wrap covering your eyes, we needed to shield them because they’re quiet fresh at the whole seeing thing, but you can take it off whenever you’re ready.” Her sweet voice said.

“Bucky.”

“I beg your pardon?” She asked.

“There’s a man named Bucky out there, can you send him in?”

“Of course.”

Bucky was in the room within seconds of hearing his name being called, he knew it meant you were awake and that you were ready to see him.

He was ushered into the room and saw you sitting up in the bed, clad in a hospital gown, a white bandage wrapping around your eyes.

Upon hearing the door close, you called out to him, and he was by your side in an instant.

“Hey, doll.” He said, pressing kisses to every part of your face.

“Hi, Bucky.” You said.

You let out a loud sigh and paused for a moment before instructing him to sit down on the bed in front of you.

“May I?” He asked tentatively and you knew he must be talking about the wrap. 

You nodded slowly and allowed him to unravel it until it was completely gone. Your eyes were still closed, but the light that had filtered in through your eyelids made you gasp slightly.

You weren’t ready to open your eyes, not yet.  A wave of panic set in and you couldn’t help but feel tears begin to fall.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Bucky said, his fingers wiping away your crying, “This is all extremely overwhelming for you.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this.” You cried.

Bucky bit his lip and tried his best to imagine what this could possibly feel like, but he could barely comprehend. Then he remembered the first night that he was over.

“Here.” He said, reaching for your hands and placing them on his face, “Feel for now until you want to see.”

You nodded furiously, trying to keep your hands from shaking profusely as your fingers mapped out the face that you knew so well. 

You felt a flesh hand reach up and trace along your cheek. Bucky had closed his eyes and done the same thing as he had before, except this time after about a minute, he added the other hand, the cool metal of his fingers brushing along your lips.

“I love you.” You whispered, a desperate cry from your mouth.

“I love you too.”

You listened to his breathing, the sound that brought you comfort in the night when he slept next to you, and willed yourself to open your eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open and an unpleasing light filtered in, but your main focus was on the face in front of you. His eyelashes were long against his cheeks as he held them closed, his jaw strong, lips plump.

A sharp cry came your mouth, your hands pulling away from his face as his eyes shot open to see you.

The intense colour of his eyes was something that took your breath away, you’d never experienced anything like it before. You decided that no matter what, that shade of blue would always be your favourite.

You began to sob, tight choking racking your chest as the overwhelming nature of seeing the man you love for the first time - and seeing much of anything at all - hit you hard.

Bucky pulled you into an embrace, holding you like his life depended on it. His heart was so full of love and care for you that he didn’t give a damn if your tears were soaking his shoulder.

Bucky held you for what felt like forever until your cries had softened. When you left, Bucky showed you every beautiful thing he could think of; fireworks, blossom trees, sunsets. He loved to see you light up when you saw something new.

He made a pact to show you every beautiful thing that the world could offer, but you assured him that the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on was him. And he’d shrug it off, but on the nights when you’d stay awake and stare at him, absorbing every little detail, you knew that it was absolutely the truth.

Bucky was amazed by you with or without your sight, because either way you loved him, either way you held him on the nights he couldn’t sleep, either way you were the one he’d run to if anything went wrong.

Either way, you were the only one who had ever taken the time to truly see him for who he was, and his heart beat for you and only you.

it snows on earth c:

rose sips tea and reads a book indoors while regularly checking to make sure that The Aesthetic is intact. she deigns to make one (1) snowman

dave makes a perfect replica of sbahj out of snow. rose tricks him into licking a mailbox. she tells him the only way to unstick him is to cut off his tongue and then records his worried indecipherable screeching

dirk has only ever seen snow from the internet so while he knows its cold he doesnt know its That Cold. he sticks his bare hand into the snow and his expression just. flattens. he says nothing but he’s screaming inside

roxy hasnt ever felt snow either but she thinks that texture-wise it’s like cotton balls so she performs a flawless swan dive into a snow drift and emerges 2 minutes later with pneumonia and the biggest grin you’ve ever seen 

Well, I guess there are worse fates than ending up the absolute epitome of a, “Prettyboy Meathead” who’s “All Brawn and no Brain” or a, “Smelly Brute”

You see, I used to be the captain of the Chess Club. Short, scrawny, specky redheaded beanpole with acne, a lisp, stuttering with anxiety. But now, They really did a number on me…

Who’s they? The football team! That’s who! They’d been bullying me ever since I transferred to this school, having argued for home schooling instead, but losing out and ending up a freshman here. They targeted me right off the bat, first day, “fresh meat” as they called me, while throwing me into a dumpster. This repeated itself for a few weeks, until finally I’d had enough, and lost it.

Yup, I admit it, I lost it. Total tantrum. But I swear, I didn’t mean to break the quarterback’s ankle! All I’d meant to do is… well, I mean I didn’t know what I meant to do, I just charged at him, screaming about how they were all just pretty trophy boys, worthless mindless meatheads, disgusting sweaty animals, plowing head first into his rock solid abs. We both went tumbling down the wheelchair ramp, myself stopped by a column, while he continued, crashing into a display case and howling in a deep rumbling rage.

That afternoon, when the nurse and the ambulance EMT’s concurred that his ankle was shattered in 2 places, taking him off the roster for the big game and chance at the championship, the team was not so thrilled with me. Hell, the whole damn school wanted to lynch me! I had to leave early, my parents getting a phone call to pick me up. I was reamed out the whole way home. My mother nearly had an asthma attack she was screeching so loud.

My dad, while still joining in on the reaming, seemed almost, proud. There was a little shimmer in his eye that I’d never seen before. It lasted only a second though as my mom hit her stride and went into full parental meltdown. I’d never seen her this angry.

Only a day passed before we got a call from the school. I was expelled, unless my parents and I agreed to a few demands. My mother, trying to save my academic career, agreed before even hearing them. My dad though, agreed to a meeting with the Principal, and oddly, the coach of the Football team.

Heading over to the school was like a motorized death march. The car ride dead silent, treading into the school and down to the Sports offices where both the Coach and Principal were having a heated debate. I only caught a blurb or two before they noticed us and quieted down. Something about “coach’s special training”

I found out during the hour long meeting, that the Coach had me in mind for replacing Blake, the Quarterback I’d taken off the field. Everyone, including the principal had their reasons as to why I couldn’t, myself as well, but Coach wouldn’t have it. He claimed that he could have me in playing condition before the big game, and, if I played, I could keep going to school, the expulsion would be voided.

Again, my mom agreed fully, signing the forms before my dad could stop her. My dad though, asked questions. The answered were vague, everything was about “focus, drive, determination, and making up for my mistakes” After a good 25 minute spiel, my dad too signed the form, signing my academic life away to a man who was quite literally an entire team’s worth of brawn packed into one.

Long story short, the game was in 6 weeks. My training started immediately, as well as a strict diet, supplements that coach provided, all of my study halls and my time on the chess team was forfeited to Coach, during which I was to watch football videos and take notes.

Weird thing is, after a few videos and days taking the supplements, I couldn’t really take notes… Strange, as I’d been a straight A Student. I just couldn’t. It was too boring. Even stranger, I couldn’t sit still. My body felt jolted and alive, my muscles aching and warm, feeling like they were going to burst off of me. I sat, squirming in my seat watching the videos, mindlessly taking in the plays, when, day by day, my body seemed to change.

First came the sweat. No matter how little I was active. Even just sitting at school or home, I was sweating, sometimes profusely. Soaking through my clothes, and, rather embarrassingly, stinking through my deodorant and body wash. by day 3, I reeked, constantly, I could smell myself. People noticed as well, the football team calling me stinky, and Jockstrap. Others moved away from me in the halls, or left seats empty near me in classes. However, sometimes I’d catch some of the prettier girls, especially the ditzy Barbie type, taking side glances at me, their eyes lingering on me for a moment before shaking their heads and running off giggling

Then came the muscle spasms and odd unexplained growth spurts. I was a late bloomer, short and thin. but each passing day added a bit of height, a bit of weight, becoming more solid and dense. I had one night in particular where I woke up screaming in pain as my body cracked and expanded, until I’d ended up a week later, 6′2″ 140lbs or so, looking solid, but not brawny. Well, not brawny, YET.

After the growth spurts, the videos lessened, and it was time for on field practice. Alone at first, then with the team. I can’t remember most of it, Coach would say something strange to me, and I’d lose track of time, waking up dazed and dizzy in the locker room with a towel around my waist, wet from the shower, or naked soaping up my body mindlessly as the hot water boiled away my thoughts.

I noticed now that I had bushy, wiry hair under my arms, and a dense collection around my groin, which, after the 4rth practice wearing a cup, felt packed and swollen. Each night I was jerking off load after load, feeling as if each jet caused my balls to swell and churn, until after a week, I had a veritable salami between my legs, with egg sized nuts in a musky, furry sack. The team took notice too, and started calling me Donkey. a nickname that encompassed my densely packed bulk, my large pendulous cock, and the always constant reek of musty stink coming off my body.

It was at this point that my mother tried to stop the whole thing. She cried when she watched my grades plummet, watched me get bigger, brawny and brutish, while out nightly dinner talks about the day and world news skidded to a halt, replaced by football, coach, the team, girls. My dad however, loved every moment! He’d even helped me move out all of my nerdy crap from my room, to replace it with a  weight bench and a shelf for future trophies.

After practiced and the changed to my body, coach had me work up my arms to beefy, thick bulging dense pythons, my biceps rounded, with a vein running down its length even at resting. My chest as well, widened my shoulders and held my pads up like a statue. I was quite built now, lumbering round at about 162lbs, when he stopped me after a grueling workout, held my head in his hands and said it was time for the last details in my reparations for ruining his star player.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, as he brought out a tin with gel inside, a pair of cleats that looked about 4 sizes too big, and a jockstrap and cup that seemed to pulsate menacing in his hand. without pause, he greased up his gloved hands and smeared the gel into my hair. it burned, and smelled of sulfur. I thought he was going to make me bald! Until I felt my hair thickening, rustling on its own with the gel mixing with my sweat, leaving me with an oddly boyish, yet decidedly bro-like Bieber cut. I could see my reflection in one of the mirrors, my hair was that of one of those pretty boys you see on TV! Thick and luscious, styled perfectly to the side, it’d stay like this without effort, as I found out soon after.

Then he forced me to sit on the bench behind me, took off my size 12 workout sneakers, tossed them across the room into a bin for lost and found items, and stuffed my feet into the huge cleats he’d brought in. My bare foot sunk into the sole of the cleat, feeling its warm, slimy texture. It felt like it’d recently been warn by a whole team during a month’s worth of games and practices. My feet itched intensely, all I could do was grunt In protest as the material seemed to tighten around my toes. Odd though, they didn’t seem to be moving. Hearing a few harsh, cracking pops and feeling searing pain in my feet, then a disgusting, foul smell rising upward, Coach took the cleats off, and I was staring down at a pair of size 16 boats. Long splayed toes shining with sweat in the fluorescent lighting, stinking up the room, looking masculine and raunchy. He covered his nose with his collar and muttered, “fucking athlete’s foot, always brutal” as I felt the burning sensation between my toes.

Then, as I tried to use my new strength to break Coach’s hold on me, he pulled down my gym shirts, then my jockstrap, letting my hefty, hairy meat free. He wolf whistled, giving me a wink as he slipped the jockstrap up my legs, then stuffed the cup in the pouch, hefting my cock and balls into it. I was right, it was pulsating! It felt like it was gripping my package, squeezing hard, then letting go, repeating over and over rhythmically. As it did so, I could feel my balls churning up a thick, heavy load, while a sudden head rush seemed to knock my brain out of my skull. I felt high, dizzy, horny, as my entire body seemed to warm up, then it felt like I was boiling on the inside, as a dim, dull rag seemed to fill my head. I felt my crotch start to itch, and a burning in my throat. I grunted, them moaned, my voice cracking harshly upward, embarrassingly, before dropping low and dumb, a deep, dim sounding baritone rumble.

M head filled with thoughts of wild, aggressive games, fucking like a stallion, working out till I couldn’t move, all while the cup seemed to milk up a steady drizzle of precum that, I’d find out later, would continue to pour from me at the slightest thought of passing glance of a pretty chick. I felt the need to pound my opponents into the dirt on the field, my whole body in fire, as coach whispered all my new desperate desires for sports, sex, being a man, filling me with pent up needs. Then, he ripped the jock and cup off me as my eyes rolled back in my head, told me to get changed into the outfit you see above, for my Team photo in the yearbook. I grunted, “fuck yeah” and dressed, stating at the Smelly brute, with the pretty boy good looks and dim, no brains behind the eyes state, as he took my photo, and I filled my pants with cum.

in. out. in. out.

She repeated the mantra over and over in an attempt to slow her labored breathing. Her face flushed, her knees skinned, her shirt sweaty, she lay flat on the concrete pathway in between the forest and the Elsewhere cafeteria. She wondered briefly where her heels had gone, but dismissed the thought.

“I made it. I actually made it. I outran them,” she muttered to herself in between gasps, “I’m safe now” She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the steadiness of the stone beneath her spine and the refreshingly still night air. Her feet ached, god how they ached, and between her ribs there was a sharp pain, but despite all odds she had made it. Faintly, she heard the thrum of drums and the ancient call of the hunting horn, and the steady beat of something not-quite-horse-hooves. She was dizzy, giddy with her victory. “I made it

she was struck with a white-hot fear as she heard the call, she ran, she ran so fast, she ran like she never had before

Not-Ellie, her current roommate, had warned her about the Hunt tonight. They were on well enough terms that Blossom considered herself vaguely Favored- not that Not-Ellie was a particularly powerful Fae, but she knew when the Hunts came to Elsewhere, and she knew when it was best for mortals to find shelter.

she could hear the slow peaceful breath of the not-horses, she felt sharp teeth around her ankles, and she kept running

Despite her words of warning, however, Blossom had found herself caught between a late-night writing class and the relative safety of her dorm. Stupidly, she figured she had enough time to make it back, but her shoes (comfortable as they are) were not made for sprinting, and before she reached the halfway mark she could hear the baying of the hounds. stupid stupid stupid. Laying there on the concrete, she hardly remembered how she got there. “Running, for sure,” she relayed to herself, “lots of running. Jumped over a river, maybe.”

she tripped over a gnarled root when the loop of it hooked the edge of her heel, she fell face-first into the freezing stream. the wind around her howled mournfully, as if it knew what fate was to befall her. her hands scrabbled for purchase on the riverbanks, but the tide was too swift and the current tore her away. a moment of blackness overtook her when the jagged rocks struck her forehead, and she came back to consciousness seconds later choking on the moldy water.

“Jeez, maybe I should try out for track or some shit. Never knew I could run like that before.” Her hand flopped up to her forehead of its own accord- she felt as if there should be something there, but nothing was felt except a thin sheen of sweat. She was still a bit dizzy, though, so she made no movement to get up.

her palms stung, her fingernails were in shards, but she found the strength to push herself out of the murky water. the stream widened here, and the current slowed, and she gave herself a moment to rest. perhaps, she thought, the flowing water was enough to stop them. her eyes drifted shut-so tired, so incredibly tired, she hardly noticed the not-hooves slowing as they approached.

Blossom coughed. She slowly sat up, noting the soreness of her feet. “I really got lucky. I didn’t think they’d ever let up.” She thought about Not-Ellie and her words of warning: 

“Once they get your scent, they never let go. It’s part of the thrill of the hunt, you see,” Not-Ellie’s eyes had flashed a dangerous violet for a moment, and her teeth looked too white. “What fun would it be if they just gave up!” Blossom had laughed nervously, while Not-Ellie threw her head back and let loose raucous peals of laughter. Blossom eyed the door, wondering if the other students were listening in. “No, Flower-girl, you don’t want to be out there on the night of the Hunt. Though it would be amusing to me!” 

“Pretty damn lucky, that’s for sure,“ Blossom said. 

she was barely awake. her lungs burned, her ribs were white-hot with pain, her feet were white and cold, she couldn’t move, her words stuttered in her mouth, she was being dragged (no, not dragged, she wasn’t touching the ground) the leaves shifted in the breeze beside her

Blossom coughed again, harder. There was something caught in her throat- it didn’t hurt, but it was a bit irritating. The spinning world slowed for a minute or so, and she took advantage of this fact to rise to her feet and survey her surroundings. The cafeteria was further than she had thought at first, the dim streetlights somehow distant (as if there was fog wrapped around the fluorescent bulbs) (or her)

she was delirious. she heard voices, or just one, or thousands of overlapping tones of the wind, and they were all calling her nickname.

“what would you give? what would you give?”

her lips were too cold and numb to move, she couldn’t form the words so she just thought.

“I would give anything, I would give anything to live”

the vines twisted lovingly around her wrist, a flower bloomed above her left ear.

“would you become one of us? would you join the forest? would you give your skin and your speech?”

her mind was fuzzy, the riverwater dripped from the tip of her nose, moss began to travel up the trees where she hovered.

“I would give anything” she repeated in her mind. “my skin, my life, my name, my speech”

“you will be safe,” the forest sang. “you will be loved.”

she felt safe. she felt loved.

the vines gently set her down on the moss. dazed, she stumbled barefoot onto the concrete path between the woods and the elsewhere cafeteria.

Blossom’s throat itched, it burned like hell. She doubled over, coughing, hacking, and it felt as though something was making its way out. With dawning alarm, she scratched her arm furiously, something itched, something burned, all over her body.

She coughed, she coughed again, harder, and a leaf drifted down from her mouth. Again and again, and more and more leaves cascaded down. She watched in horror as her nails strained against the swelling of her fingers, as they popped off one by one (it didn’t hurt, why didn’t it hurt), as her hands twisted and gnarled. Her hair was wet with riverwater, and then with sap, and then it fell down her shoulders and she looked and every strand was a string of willow leaves. She reached upwards to her cheek and felt the soft pillowy texture of moss, her lips grew hard and crackly like lichen, her breath caught in her chest and she tried to gasp but she couldn’t anymore.

The baying of the hounds grew closer again, it had never left completely. She tried to call out but her vocal chords had stretched into petals.

The baying of the hounds grew ever closer.

She felt the moss spread down, down, over her neck and her collarbone, down, down to her hips, down her legs.

 She felt the roughness travel up, up from her bare feet, up her legs, her hips, her ribs, her collarbone. Her facial muscles stiffened, the bark dug underneath her skin until it replaced it entirely.

 The baying of the hounds was loud in what used to be her ear. The Hunt had arrived for its quarry, but all that remained was a tall tree (some horrific combination of flowers and bark, with long willow-leaves oak-leaves and gnarled branches and bright red berries) blocking the concrete pathway between the woods and the Elsewhere Student Dining Hall. If what used to be Blossom still had ears, it would have heard the irritated snort of the horses, or the long, mournful howl that followed. But it didn’t have ears, and so it heard nothing.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Not-Ellie grinned as she watched from the nearby shadows. She had told Blossom not to go outside during the Hunt, but she wouldn’t be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the show. Stupid mortals, she giggled to herself, one way or another, the Hunt will always get you. She waved jovially at the train of dogs and not-horses as they melted away, then peeled herself out of the darkness and leaned up against what used to be Blossom. 

“And to think, you really believed we were friends. It’s okay, I won’t blame you for not getting it." 

The tree leaves rustled, as if curious.

Not-Ellie shed her glamour like a snake sheds its skin, and rose a vine-arm to caress Blossom’s used-to-be-cheek. A flower bloomed in the center of the fae’s chest cavity. 

"Once we get your scent, we never let go. I won my quarry in tonight’s Hunt. And now, you belong to me.”

Used-To-Be-Blossom screamed inside its timber “You said i’d be safe, you said I’d be loved!" 

"Really, dear,” Not-Ellie responded, “of course you’ll be loved. Much like a hunter swells with pride at the sight of his first kill, so too do I love you, Emily. Now calm yourself, before the stress affects your branches.”

The tree, bound by the True Name it gave up so freely, shuddered once, then fell silent. 

It was calm now. It was loved. And it would never be Blossom again.

Another pseudo-horror Elsewhere drabble, I guess! This one is quite a bit longer, and probably doesn’t make much sense, but it’s 3:00 in the morning and I haven’t slept in 48 hours so I might as well submit it!

x

everythingsmellsofrum  asked:

What's the coolest thing you know about Tapirs?

Their pee dries white and sticky and requires a lot of work to scrub off and the ones I’ve felt had a similar texture to one of those weird extruded scrubbing pads.

…snorkelpigs are just kind of A Thing and a running joke from one of my first internships. I was so squicked out by cleaning up after them, and scared of them because they were so much bigger than I expected.

@bigcatawareness now sends me photos of them every time she sees them. I will never escape my past.

Even Angels Fall pt. 2

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader
Au: Mafia, late 1920′s-1930′s
Word Count: 3,727ish
T/W: Angst, slight smut, blood, hospitals, surgery scars, pills 
A/N: Philip was in a “mafia” group (aka family) and claimed he’s out for good. (Set in “gangster” time, late 1920′s-1930′s)  I’m sorry, in advance.
Song mood: Big Eyes - Lana Del Rey & Love Don’t Break Me - BILLY
Tags: @justfangirlingaround@iworshipmusicals


 “Philip is like fire. He’s warm and comforting from a safe distance, but once you come closer you will be burned. Just like fire. It doesn’t want to be feared, it wants more, just as Philip did. And I am a love letter being consumed by his flames. Why, you might ask? Because I love him. Everything about him, he’s my beautiful spark. I love him.” ~ y/n. February, 15th.


You were woken up by a nurse’s heels clicking against the concrete floor. Opening your eyes as she pulled back the blinds, officially waking you up. Stretching out in the visitors chair, you looked over to your side, seeing Philip still “asleep” in the hospital bed. You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling a pain, most likely from having spent the night in a very uncomfortable chair. 

“You must really love him, Honey,” the older lady in all white said, smiling at you. 

“Hmm?” you asked, still waking up mentally. 

“Most young ladies wouldn’t stay around for their guy like this,” she stated, “they usually find another boy, saw it all the time during the war, poor guys were heart broken.”

“Well, Philip’s my only,” you smiled over to your curly haired boy, “I could never leave him.”

She nodded respectfully, leaving the room. You moved the chair to the side of his bed, sitting and holding his hand. You kissed his knuckles, still bruised from the fight. Resting your chin on the edge of the bed, you studied his beautiful features. Thinking about all the memories you had with him, he couldn’t leave you. Not yet. Tears pooled in your eyes, just remembering how you had left him, he must’ve been so scared.

“You gonna wake up today?” You whispered, barely able to get the question out. “It’d be a great day to. I could see your smile, and hear your voice. You could-” you had to pause to take a shaky breath, “you could let me know you’re okay and I could tell you I love you.”

Keep reading

Caught ***NSFW

Prompt: Yixing comes home after being away on tour for a long time and catches you masturbating

Genre: Smutty smut smut

Word Count: 938

Edited by: @shineeexobts


“What are you doing?”

Keep reading

katsstories  asked:

Got a scary horse story? (H3)

Horses can be on the scary side anyway when you remember that they are the species most likely to send a veterinarian to the morgue. This is made worse when working with people that don’t really understand horses as well as they think they do.

The case that made me decide to stop mixed practice was a horse with over confident owners. The horse had cut itself on the inside of a hind leg, and was not the sort of creature that was happy to let you pick up its feet anyway, so even getting a half decent look was going to be hard, and suturing the skin flap under local would be impossible.

The decision was made, after discussing the various risks of anaesthesia, to knock the horse out and close the wound. I would have liked to have had a competent nurse with me, but didn’t have that option with it being a public holiday.

Horse anaesthetics can be dangerous, for everyone involved. The horse is a large creature with powerful muscles that can flail its limbs to devastating effect. While it is going under anaesthesia there is the danger of it falling badly, either on itself on on you, and they can go into an excitement phase where they kick, trash, or stagger around. If this happens, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop a disorientated 400kg+ horse except get the hell out of the way.

This horse did not go down quietly. It decided, as the anaesthetic took effect, to rear up and attempt to cartwheel backwards.

Now imagine you’re at the front of the horse when this happens. Neck and feet flailing in front of you as the horse rises higher and higher. 

The owner, for some reason, was more worried about the horse’s safety than her own, and was trying to yank the lead rope down to stop the horse cartwheeling. This was a stupid thing to do because firstly you can’t stop the horse anyway, and secondly you’re placing yourself in the middle of the danger zone.

So I grabbed the lead rope from the owner, yanking it forcefully out of her hands and shoving her away.

It was then that the horse went over.

With me holding the rope.

Now I am not a frail lass. I’m pretty heavy, but that’s nothing to a full grown horse that’s proceeding to trip balls. I was lifted momentarily off the ground, hooves flashing near my face and the lead rope tearing through my hands.

Tearing is the right word. It burned. Texture in the rope tore away at the skin of my hands causing such pain coupled with fear that you would not believe.

I couldn’t look at my hands. I just couldn’t. They felt like they were on fire but I would have to drive myself to hospital and now the horse was anesthetized on the ground, I only had one chance to close the wound. No way on earth would the owner, who was now a mess despite the fact that they were not injured and I was, would allow me to knock their precious horse out again.

In shock, with hands that felt like they were still on fire, I started stitching up its leg. I wont claim it was my best work, far from it, because I was not in a good state and acutely aware that I was now kneeling at the back legs of the horse, which was probably a more dangerous position to be in once it started to wake up.

And I wouldn’t have long. 

I got a few sutures in, my dexterity was awful and the surgical scrub stung badly, before the horse started to twitch and I was out of there. I made sure the thing recovered ok, left instructions and drove myself to hospital, clutching the steering wheel with the little undamaged areas of my palms, still not being able to bring myself to look.

It was a strange fear that played in my mind. Obviously i had survived because I was now driving, though probably not as alert as I should be. I was fearful for my hands, and my future.

You need enough feeling and dexterity to function as a vet. You have to be able to feel the texture of a mass inside an abdomen, perform delicate procedures through gloves, sense a vibration in a pulse when you’re up to your shoulder in a cow. If I lacked feeling or sensation, I would not be as good a vet as I should be.

When I was at the hospital I found out I had second degree burns on eight fingers and both palms. I also realized, as the adrenaline faded, that my glasses were missing and I had a bruise on my right cheek.

The glasses, as it turned out, had been crushed under the horse, and I hadn’t noticed.

It must have hit me.

That was my last horse anaesthetic.

The Five Year Plan - Part Two

Hi! Without further a do here is the final part of The Five Year plan! I hope you all enjoy and don’t hate me… Please? 

PROMPT - @outside-the-government #Writeawaythewinterblues challenge with the prompt: ‘I am going to find out either way when I examine you, so you might as well tell me now.’ 

PAIRING - Leonard McCoy (Bones) X Reader X Jim Kirk

PART TWO WORD COUNT - 13,926 words

SUMMARY -  “Then enlighten me.” Leonard challenged, “because every other time that glint crosses your eyes it normally spells trouble.”

“It’s just a simple three way deal, call it a-” Kirk froze as an exciting smile grew across his features, his eyes glinting with an untold emotion. “Five year plan.”

WARNINGS - NOT AS SMUTTY AS PART ONE BUT SPRINKLING OF SMUTNESS MAYBE SO IM GONNA SAY NSFW JUST IN CASE, FLUFF IF YOU SQUINT, ANGSTY AS HELL. You get my drift.

Part One

—————————————————————————————————-

In a flash of light your surroundings swirled and morphed into a different scene, the dim red lights of the turbolift shifting into a cold white. Around you unidentifiable shadows morphed into existence, the swirling darkness quickly taking the forms of bustling ensigns as they wandered by; their attention not on you but rather the meal trays clutched greedily between their hands.

 “No emotions?” Uhura repeated slowly, her eyebrow arched upwards as she dipped her spoon into the watery mess which pooled amongst her tray. Rolling your eyes you leaned forwards across the table, your hands flapping in an uncoordinated mess as you indicated for your company to keep her voice low. Afterall the last thing you needed was a wandering whisper to be picked up by one of the many gossiping officers in the mess hall.

 “Yes.” You resigned, your eyes shifting nervously for any sign of the ship’s captain or chief medical officer. “I should have realised on night one that I wasn’t going to be able to uphold it.”

 Nyota’s smile was tight, her eyebrow creeping towards her hairline as she leaned forwards; her long pony tail flicking across her shoulder with interest. “What do you mean?”

 Your lip trembled minutely as you stared into her rich brown orbs, your attention tracing the harsh flick of her eyeliner before falling to the meal tray set before you.

 “I think I’m falling in love with them.” The confession passed your lips easily as you stared at the long forgotten spoon before you, its end dipped partially amongst the bland soup which pooled in your own tray. “Both of them! I mean- how is that even… possible?”

Keep reading

Pocket Size

Request: Maybe one where the reader shrinks because of a spell? Gabe puts her in his pocket and adorableness ensues?

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1222

Gender: Female

Author: Gwen

Your name: submit What is this?

Originally posted by brieflymaximumprincess

“Turn magnitudinem ranarum. Mus nunc per magnitudinem. Ego autem interfecit tunc iuraverunt!” The witch screamed out at you as a last resort before you fired your weapon, watching as she fell to the ground in a heap. Once you made sure she was down, you yelled in triumph to your partner, who was somewhere in this moldy house.

Keep reading

Sandwich Necessities

Overview: Cas and the reader are on a mission to create the perfect sandwich.

Characters: Castiel, Reader, a guest appearance by Grumpy!Dean

Word Count: 1,220

Warnings: mild language, sandwich throwing, FLUFFFFFFFF

A/N: I stole a prompt from @rosie-winchester‘s challenge (with permission). It’s bolded in the fic. A shout out to @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie for reviewing my sandwich shenanigans and actually just all my general shenanigans. Love you both!

“What are you doing?” I asked, taking in the sight in front of me with a confused smile.

Castiel turned to look at me, a butter knife in one hand and a bread slice in the other. “I was trying to make a sandwich,” he looked back at the counter with a frown, “but I’m afraid all I’ve managed to do is make a mess.”

I suppressed a giggle as I crossed the kitchen and came to stand in front of him, “You’ve got peanut butter in your hair.”

He frowned at me, “Of all the things I have attempted since becoming fully human, I was certain this one would prove to be simple.”

My fingers reached up to gently rub the sticky mess out of his soft tresses, “Just wait until you have to do your taxes.”

Keep reading

I Am Yours (Jeonghan drabble)

Word count: 1121

Idol: Jeonghan (Seventeen)

Genre: Fluff 

A/N: Okay as the Jeonghan feels didn’t let me live after the last drabble I wrote I made sort of a second part to it. If you wanna read the first part click here: “Let It Flow”.

Originally posted by seungheol

You both ran into the house holding hands and laughing, still soaked  to the skin. You wanted to stay a little longer under the rain, but it was getting so cold you would certainly get sick.

You finally got to the kitchen after leaving a water trail behind you which almost made you slip.

“I’ll make some hot chocolate as I promised before you tricked me to go outside” Jeonghan said lifting you up by the hips and making you sit in the countertop. You leaned in to peck his lips before he turned around to turn the stove on.

You’d never seen him that happy, he seemed at peace with himself. It was like making hot chocolate with you was everything he wanted to do. You caught yourself staring at him like you always did when he was like this, when he was just enjoying the moment and being himself with you. It was a feeling had to explain with words, being able to experience infinite happiness and joy through someone else’s as if it was your own.

Keep reading

Revisiting Aya

[[Anonymous requested “Jaal and Ryder at the waterfall location” and I took liberties. Also, this got sort of out of control.

NSFW, smut

Ryder x Jaal

AO3]]

There were certain perks in being Pathfinder, one of which was that if you asked people to clear out of a small area at a given time, they generally fell over themselves in their haste to accommodate. At one point in time, it was something Wren Ryder may have felt guilty about, but today she was reveling in the comparative freedom it gave her, steering the small shuttle from Aya’s bustling city into the quiet of the foothills.

“Ryder, you are sure you can drive this?” Jaal was stuck in the passenger seat, blindfolded and trying to sit with his hands folded, every now and then turning his head in her approximate direction and trying to look as skeptical as one can with half their face blocked.

“Nope, but how difficult can it be? Few switches, ignition… I’ll wing it.” And winging it she indeed was, having not yet managed to crash and burn and kill them all. It would be a bad beginning to what she had envisioned as the perfect day. An anniversary. Their first, hopefully of many. She was uncertain if angara even thought of anniversaries in the same way humans did, and even less sure that they followed the same calendar year, but she kept her mouth shut, simply telling Jaal it was a surprise. He would have to live with that.

With surprising smoothness, the shuttle landed, a soft burst of hair preventing it from crushing too many plants. They were here, and the butterflies in her stomach were suddenly overwhelming. “Okay, you can take off the blindfold. Uhm, surprise?” Doubts assailed her; this was a bad idea, he wouldn’t care, this was cheesy, too over the top. It took all her willpower just to look at him and try and gauge what his reaction would be, rather than looking away and just attempting to hope for the best.

Jaal pulled the blindfold off his face, eyes widening. “The hot springs. You have taken us back here.” He turned to smile at her, his hand drifting over to cover her own and squeeze it gently. “I asked Liam to show me a human calendar. It has been a year since you said yes to being with me.” Ah, so he hadn’t forgotten. Not at all. “I was going to surprise you back at the Tempest, but I see you’ve beaten me to it. The punch.” The phrase came out garbled, as if Ryder had ever expected anything else.

“There’s more. Come on.” Stepping out of the shuttle, Ryder walked with more confidence than she actually felt, moving to the edge of the water and looking out over it. It looked the same as it had before- maybe slightly more lush, but equally as beautiful, the cool air contrasting with the natural heat of the water and creating a pleasant shimmering effect over the whole area. It had been perfect then, and it was perfect now, and there was a comfort in this new familiarity. A year and it felt like yesterday in the best possible way.

Jaal followed her with his eyes, leaning against the shuttle and simply watching with a half-smile on his face. Shooting a look back at him, Ryder removed her shirt, hoping that this paid off. It had involved a lot of asking around human settlers woken from Nexus, trying to figure out who had their priorities out of order enough that they would bring the item in question in the first place. Eventually she had found someone, but talking the woman out of it had been another battle entirely, and it had cost her so many credits… Not the point Ryder, she told herself. This is the point.

Her back was to Jaal as her shirt landed on the rocks, and when she looked over her shoulder, she was trying to gauge his reaction to the swimsuit she was wearing. Two pieces, far flimsier than her tastes usually ran. She felt almost like a kid playing dress up than an actual adult, but the last time they had been here they had undressed themselves, and there was something lacking in that. Jaal’s hands couldn’t deal with the intricacies of human clothing so well, but pulling on a few pieces of string? Even a krogan could manage that.

Jaal’s hands carefully settled on either side of her waist, pulling her around where he could look her up and down with obvious appreciation. “I will devour you,” he said simply, emphasizing ‘will’ to stress how imminent it truly was. “But what is it?” One hand picked up one of the strings, rubbing it between two fingers gently, the texture clearly strange for him. To be fair, neoprene felt weird even just on her skin after so long in either armor or her own ship clothes, like it was too slinky and too slippery, as if it could slide right off. Which was kind of the point, come to think of it.

Keep reading

Threesome

This is a continuation from the following reaction I did: Seunghyun walks in on you having sex.

Warning: Contains heavy smut. If you are 12 don’t read it or whatever. 


Seunghyun hovers in the door, his gaze lingering as Jiyong slips inside you, his thrust sloppy with his drunkness.

‘Fuck, Seunghyun. Are you going to stare at us all day? It’s killing my vibe.,’ He pants as his momentum doesn’t stop, his hips continuously snapping into you in a frantic, jolting pace. ‘If you’re that curious, come and take the other end.’ Despite the rhetorical reverb, Seunghyun’s head tilts in interest, the offer one he was clearly contemplating.

‘I can’t help but think she must be good if you’re so desperate with her all the time…,’ He mulls quietly, before turning to the girl next to him abruptly, his head nodding directionally back down the hallway. ‘I’ll come get you later.’ In an instant, he had made up his mind. A quiver shoots through your body, your mind confused as to whether it was induced by fear or anticipation. Seunghyun’s voice was smooth, containing a subtle finality to it that was equal parts intoxicating and intensely disharmonic. Not to mention the fact that Jiyong had basically just given you away, like you were his toy to be shared with whomever he chose. His eyes meet yours as he hovers over you, his body pausing it’s rhythm to check into yours.

‘It’s okay, right, baby?,’ He questions, his nose resting gently against your own. ‘It’s just sex.’ You peer into Jiyong’s eyes, blurred with the previously consumed alcohol in the evening and give your consent a short, curt nod in agreement, your eyes blinking slowly as your cheeks flush with redness. You don’t even know why you’d agreed. Perhaps it was the glasses of champagne you yourself had consumed, but you’d always been intrigued by Seunghyun and his mysteriousness. Jiyong had just presented you with the perfect opportunity to explore that.

‘Sure.’ You whisper quietly to him. His lips tuck behind his teeth, a smirk appearing on his face, lifting the corners of his mouth in a half moon crescent shape.

‘That’s my baby. I knew you were damn dirty.,’ He murmurs, his lips pressing into yours aggressively, his mouth bitter with the taste of whiskey and the lingering remnants of his last cigarette. ‘Seunghyun’s going to find that out pretty quickly, too.’ His pace starts again, slower this time, but with the same drilling power, as he nods his head in his friends direction to invite him towards you both. A stuttered gasp leaves your mouth as the tip of Jiyong’s member connects with the perfect spot inside you. Seunghyun comes to stand at the top of your head, his eyes meeting Jiyong’s as his tall stature towers dauntingly over your body.

‘Any rules?,’ He raises an eyebrow in question, scanning your exposed torso with interest, his question directed towards Jiyong.

‘No marks, alright? I don’t want to think about you next time I’m fucking her and I see a damn hickey you gave her.,’ Seunghyun nods deeply in understanding, crouching down to bring his face to your level. ‘And fuck her with a condom.’ Jiyong adds with a ferocity Seunghyun couldn’t argue with.

‘Any suggestions?’ Seunghyun’s voice is a purr, his breath melting against your skin as his hand reaches up, lingering softly on your neck. You are almost certain he can feel the quiver of your racing pulse as his fingers dance delicately against your throat. His touch is a stark contrast to Jiyong’s frantic movements penetrating your lower half.

‘She can take it really deep. Don’t go easy on her.,’ Jiyong smirks, his hips jutting roughly in uneven timing, his words breathy with his own lust. ‘She likes it really rough, don’t you baby?’ Seunghyun’s head nods in agreement, before lowering itself to your lips, a fire of lust burning through his kiss. You hear his hands fumble with the buckle of his pants as he continues the kiss, deepening it. He breaks apart, pausing to look into your eyes from above you.

‘You know how close Jiyong and I are, right, Y/n?,’ Seunghyun’s questions you gently, his words a soft murmur from his mouth as his eyes gaze into yours. You hear the distinct sound of the metal zing as he unzips the fly of his pants. ‘Sometimes Jiyong likes to share things with his Hyung. It’s nothing romantic for me, alright? I’m just here to get off. Are you okay with that?’ You slowly nod your head, your eyebrows creasing as Jiyong’s erection hits your spot again. A whimper of acknowledgement passes your lips.

‘We’re all clear.,’ Jiyong answers in staggered breathing. ‘Just stick your dick in her damn mouth.’ Seunghyun’s erection appears from the top of the briefs he was wearing, slowly revealing it’s thickness. He brings it forwards, towards you, before giving your entire body a tug to move your head off the table slightly.

‘If you want it, take it.’ Seunghyun pauses, his hands holding the tip of his erection just above your mouth in a tantilizing tease. You cast one last glance at Jiyong. Once you’d done this, there was no going back. Jiyong gives you a short, quick nod of approval, and you move your lips around the thickness of Seunghyun’s cock, the salty taste of him hitting your tongue instantly. It had been a long time since you’d felt anyone but Jiyong in your mouth. The texture of Seunghyun was different, your lips accepting his rough, veined shaft as they stretched wide, curling around him. He begins a slow thrust of his hips, your fingers reaching to grip the lower end of him, stimulating what refused to fit inside your mouth.

‘She’s good, huh?,’ Jiyong’s smugness is met with a guttural moan escaping Seugnhyun’s lips. ‘Wait till you get to this end. Her pussy is nice and tight.’ A twitch of anticipation runs through Seunghyun’s erection, flickering across your tongue. You smile lightly at the feeling, and Seunghyun’s hand reaches to brush against your cheek gently.

‘I can see why you’re so infatuated.’ He slips his dick out, bouncing it across your face with a smirk, before leaning down and enveloping one of your nipples completely in his mouth. His teeth graze the skin, nipping lightly on the mound of engorged, sensitive flesh, and you feel Jiyong intentionally aim his hips to hit you perfectly again. In a matter of seconds, a continuous circle of moans are dancing off your tongue as Jiyong quickens his pace and Seunghyun’s other hand slips over your body to stroke the pearl of nerves in your folds. His long torso leans, stretching effortlessly over your shorter stature to stimulate you.

‘Fuck.,’ You whimper desperately, Jiyong’s relentless pace banging against you. ‘Ji, baby, please… Let me cum.’ Your begging seems to please Seunghyun, his lips curling into a full grin. You can feel them shifting against the thickness of your puffy nipple. He nips it again, before letting it fall from his mouth with a tug. He straightens himself fully.

‘She cums on command? I’m impressed.’ He looks at Jiyong, taking in the smirk of pride evident on his face.

‘She’s a special girl. Would you like to do the honours and give her her first one?,’ He withdraws himself, slipping smoothly out of your drenched core. A whine leaves your lips, a pout forming as you begin to sit up.

‘I want you, Ji.’ You peer at him through hooded eyes, your face begging desperately. ‘Please, make me cum first.’ You shift, wrapping your hips around his legs and adjusting yourself closer to him. He looks down at you, taking in your face as his eyes skim over your pleading expression.

‘What’s wrong with Seunghyun?’ He questions, the offence evident in his voice.

‘Nothing’s wrong with Seunghyun… I just… want him to see how good you make me feel.’ You puff you breathlessly. Jiyong’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance.

‘You want him to see that? You want him to watch your face as I fuck you senseless?’ He questions, his hand reaching up to gently ruffle your hair in affection, lingering to cup your cheek. He looks at Seunghyun to explain your demeanour. ‘She gets needy for me sometimes.’ Seunghyun’s eyebrow raises in interest, the apparent dynamic between you and Jiyong something he found curiously entertaining.

‘He wants to watch us too.’ Your head nods in Seunghyun’s direction. You knew. You’d picked it as soon as you’d met him. You’d seen the way he’d steal lengthy glances at dancers during practices, his eyes lingering long enough to build an image, but not get caught. You’d seen the way his head would follow girls in short skirts at the club, drinking in the way their hips swayed with his eyes. You’d even seen his eyes on you on the rare occasion your bra strap had slipped into view, or your top button had accidentally popped open when he’d been around. Everything about his being screamed visual, every sign pointing to a voyeuristic tendency. He liked to look. You knew.

‘She’s perceptive.’ Seunghyun comments in approval, his cheeks puckering with dimples as he nods at Jiyong in consent, his face breaking into a smile. ‘And she’s right. I want to see it. Give it to her.’ Jiyong sighs, taping your legs to release his hips.

‘Turn over, then.’ His voice is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist, pressuring you to twist. You turn obediently and  come to rest on your hands and knees, arching your back to offer yourself to Jiyong, your hips lifting higher. He knew this was your favourite position, and he knew he’d hit you perfectly as soon as he entered. He didn’t hesitate, nor did he ease gently into you, the sharpness of his entry causing you to gasp instantly on contact. The wave of pleasure instantly begins building again as soon as he enters, his rough hips snapping against you, his thickness grazing your spot with perfect anglement. A shudder runs through your body, Jiyong’s left hand digging nails into your hips as he pulled you into him, thundering against you. His right hand reaches up and falls sharply to leave a stinging slap on your ass. Your eyes fall on Seunghyun’s, your gaze locking his as he watched intently. He doesn’t blink, standing with his pants hanging open, his shirt crinkled and roughly untucked, his erection twitching slightly as he watched.

‘Ji, baby, please.’ You beg, your lips pursing around the words as you moaned them out. Seunghyun’s grin grew.

‘She sounds so fucking sexy begging like that.’ He chuckles.

‘It will be your name soon, my friend.,’ Jiyong comments. ‘You can cum, Y/n.’ He adds as an after though, a few particularly rough thrusts following his words. You crumble, your legs sagging as you shudder, your muscles spasming around his presence inside you.

‘Jiyong, I love you.’ You say as he slows his thrusts, momentarily forgetting Seunghyun’s presence as your brain clouds in post-orgasmic bliss. You close your eyes, sinking with a wave of exhaustion into the table. A chuckle leaves his lips as he slips out of you, another sharp slap of his hand coming down hard on your ass.

‘I love you too, Y/n. But we haven’t finished yet.,’ Due to your tiredness, you don’t sense the movement occurring around you until you feel a pair of strong, unfamiliar hands snake around your waist and lift up your hips, pulling them to a fuckable angle. Your eyes snap open, twisting behind you to see Seunghyun surveying your ass, his fingers skimming over the skin that had turned red with the impression of Jiyong’s palm. In the space of time between your orgasm and him standing behind you, he’d managed to slip a condom on. Jiyong is crouching beside you, his hand coming to stroke your hair. Despite his rough play during intimacy, he was a gentle man with genuine concern for your wellbeing. ‘Can you give us one more?’ He questions lovingly, his thumb stroking your sweat drenched forehead lightly. Your head signals approval with a delicate nod, your eyes taking in the gentleness of his concern.

‘If it’s too much, I’ll stop.,’ Seunghyun says affectionately as he eases himself into your core, your sensitivity causing you to groan as soon as his tip had pressed against you. He was thicker than Jiyong, your body taking the time to get used to the sensation of the pinch of pressure you felt from his presence. ‘Fuck, Jiyong… you were right. She’s tight.’ His husky voice vibrates through the room. Jiyong continues to stroke your hair affectionately, before planting a subtle kiss on your forehead.

‘Can I cum in your mouth?’ He raises an eyebrow questioningly at you. He knew it wasn’t something you usually let him do, but considering how far out of control things had unwound tonight, it wasn’t going to be hard to lower your standards. You nod listlessly, your brow furrowed in a creased frown of concentration. The overstimulation of Seunghyun’s thickness was flooding you with feeling due to your sensitivity from your previous orgasmn. Jiyong stands, his hand remaining against your head, before moving it to tilt your jaw upwards. You open your mouth obligingly, the salty tang of his own taste mixed with the metallic bitterness of your juices overpowering your senses. His hands grasp your hair, bundling it into a thick ponytail he uses to guide you lower down his shaft, filling your mouth entirely with his member. A raspy gag escapes your throat, and Jiyong eases himself out slightly, a coy smile flickering across his face. Seunghyun’s grunts fill the room as he continues his steady pace, his thrusting smooth and even, quickly picking up speed. You moan, the vocal hum resonating around Jiyong.

‘Oh, god, Y/n.’ He struggles to articulate his words as your lips purse around him, your tongue working it’s way sloppily around his member in a twirl. The chorus of his uneven breathing joins the fray of sounds filling the room, your body quivering in sensory overload. The taste of Jiyong in your mouth, the relentlessness of Seunghyun’s motions behind you, the auditory crescendo of their combined pleasure. Your energy sags, and you begin losing track of anything but the cardinal feeling of both of the men stimulating you. Another few thrusts from Seunghyun, and your second orgasm racks through your body, bringing with it a new level of tiredness. Without warning, the warmth of Jiyong’s liquid fills your mouth, spilling down the back of your throat, and you gag, swallowing the load reflexively as your own muscles wrap tightly around Seunghyun’s presence inside you, your body convulsing against him. Jiyong uses your hair to push your head, deepening himself in your throat, remitting the last few drops of his cum into you. You gag, choking slightly again, and he slips silently from your lips, once again coming to kneel at your level.

‘Ji.’ His name is a bare sussurate from your mouth, your energy not allowing you any more volume.

‘You’re doing good, baby.’ He reassures you soothingly, his hand ruffling the locks of your hair, shifting them off your face. Your body was heated, your hair sticking flatly to the position Jiyong had moved it to due to perspiration.

‘She is doing good.’ Seunghyun grunts from behind, his hands gripping your hips to steady you and allow him to drive deeper into your core. The rawness of his power causes you to stutter out your now heavy breathing.

‘I’ll let you finish.’ Jiyong comments casually to him, before coming to stand, making his way to the couch in the far corner of the room. You watch him as he picks up the jacket he’d shed there, peeled off by you earlier in passion. He digs in the pocket, drawing out a half empty, crumpled packet of cigarettes. His long fingers spider over it, selecting one and bringing it to his lips. It was a dirty habit you hope he’d drop, but it didn’t seem like there was any chance that would happen in the near future. Seunghyun removes himself from you, your attention snapping back to the reality of what was happening.

‘Almost there.’ He mutters to you as his hands slip over your hips, twisting you to turn and lay on your back. Your tiredness prevents you from any use of your muscles, and Seunghyun hooks his hand around your legs, dragging your torso towards him. He positions your legs upright against the firmness of his chest through his shirt, his erection guiding itself between the slickness of your folds. His pace continues again, unceasingly intense in it’s rhythm. A jarring thrust sends your body sliding down the table slightly, his strong hands gripping your shoulders to pin you against him. The feeling again builds in the pit of your stomach as Seunghyun threads himself through your entire being, coaxing your orgasm from every corner of your body. You shiver, the feeling of intense pleasure again spewing from inside you, your muscles clenching for the third time around the foreign feeling of his thickness. His pumps jutter, the condom preventing you from feeling the warmth exploding from his tip despite you knowing it was happening. His smoothness turns to uneven, sloppy thrusts as he finishes, cuming as your third orgasm subsides. He hesitates, waiting a fleeting moment, before withdrawing himself slowly from you.

‘All done?’ Jiyong questions as Seunghyun turns away, smoothing the shirt you’d creased beyond repair. There was no way the three of you could go back to the party without your now ragged appearances and delayed absences raising suspicion.

‘Yes.,’ Seunghyun nods, the snap of the rubber from the condom being removed ringing in the air. ‘I have to say, that was much more enjoyable that whatever is going on out there. I can understand why you’re so into her, Jiyong.’ He walks slowly towards the rubbish bin, his natural suave demeanor returning to replace any indication he’d just had senseless sex with his best friends girlfriend. He drops the condom lightly from his palm, before readjusting his shirt again, tucking it swiftly into his pants.

‘She is something special.’ Jiyong concedes in agreement, his eyes gazing over your limp form lying sprawled on the table.

‘Thanks for letting me have a turn.’ Seunghyun’s eyes meet yours, a subtle wink flicking over his face. ‘Hopefully it won’t be the last.’ He turns on his feet, slowly exiting the room, the heels of his shoes clicking dramatically against the hardness of the floor.

‘Baby, come here.’ Jiyong purrs from his spot on the couch, his arms opening invitingly to you. You urge your muscles to move you into a standing position, your shaking legs carrying you treppidly towards your boyfriend.

‘I’m exhausted.’ You say as you collapse into his arms. He pulls you closer, cuddling you tightly against his side, his lips pressing against your forehead with a tenderness you’d come to expect over the years.

‘That was something, though.,’ He chuckles, his lips hovering above your skin, dotting briefly against it at the end of his sentence. ‘You did really well, Jagi.’ Your eyes meet his, a pleased smile curling the corners of his mouth to elicit the puffy apples of his cheeks that became increasingly prominent when he was happy.

‘That was an unexpected something, is what it was.,’ Your arms swats him lightly. ‘Next time tell me before you go inviting people to fuck me in a threesome.’

‘Are you really mad?’ He raises an eyebrow in question, hugging you tighter into him. You relax into his hold, the warmth and security he provided an ultimate comfort to your exhausted frame. You inhale the lingering scent of cigarette smoke mixed with his cologne, and you breathe deeply to allow yourself to commit it to your memory.

‘Not at all. If all of your friends fuck like Seunghyun, we should make this happen more often.,’ Your comment brings a deep chuckle from his lips. ‘Let’s ask Seungri to join us next.’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby girl.,’ He continues his chuckle as his hand reaches up to mildly play with a strand of your hair. ‘I had to admit towards the end it was all sitting a little uneasy with me. You’re my girl. Seeing Seunghyun make you crumble like he did wasn’t that fun.’

‘Nobody can make me cum like you, Jiyong.,’ Your head arches, reaching to kiss his lips softly. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. I’m all yours whenever you want me.’ Despite Seunghyun’s ability to make you completely unravel, what he did to you was nothing compared to how Jiyong made you feel. The comfort, the affection, the tender streak that came out at exactly the right moment to keep you going a little further… Jiyong knew you like no one else ever would.

‘Let’s get you home, baby. You look like you want to crawl into bed and sleep for days.’ His finger releases the strand of hair, smoothing over your face to pinch your chin affectionately.

‘Only if you’re by my side.’

anonymous asked:

Heyheyheyhey! Can we get a fic where Noct has to set a good example for his kids and eat his veggies? And he has to force himself not to look like he's dying on the inside or about to vomit. His s/o finds it hilarious and calls Iggy to describe everything that happened.

Okay, but one thing! My mind is forcing me to imagine that Ignis was the one who cooked the meal and was there for the whole thing. So, I apologize it’s not completely what you asked for. >_>


It was dinnertime and the king’s son and daughter whined impatiently about their hunger at the dining table. As he and his wife repeatedly assured the young children (five and eight, respectively) that dinner was on its way, Noctis couldn’t help but wonder if he had been so impatient at their age as well.

Just when the couple thought they had quelled their kids’ concerns about dinner, Solis slapped the edge of table with her small hands, shifting in the decorated seat so that she was on her knees. “Daddy, is it macaroni? I want macaroni and cheese!” She shouted, leaning over the glossy surface. Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Solis, please sit in your seat like a big girl, okay?” The queen chimed before giving her husband an expecting look.

“You can’t have macaroni and cheese every day. You have to eat something… healthy… healthier, sometimes.” Noctis nearly grimaced as he lectured his daughter so ironically. No matter how much time had already passed being a father, it never really seemed to get easier for him to relay an example he still had trouble following himself.

As Solis erupted in an “awww,” the grumpy elder child scoffed. “Healthy food tastes like crap, dad.”

The king’s eyes widened as he took in the image of his son twirling a butter knife while resting his head in his hand. He felt it in his heart; if ever in doubt, these were his biological children.

“Watch your mouth, Felix. Wouldn’t want to have to sit at the table while your sister has ice cream without you.”

The boy became quiet at the suggestion.

“…Oh, that’s right. Ignis is cooking tonight, isn’t he?” Noctis smiled at his wife before turning to his children. Solis was looking excited, but Felix was still unamused. “Everything is good when Ignis cooks it, right?”

The younger child beamed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Yes! Uncle Iggy makes the best macaroni and cheese!”

The king threw his head back and laughed this time. She was just too cute. Too pure. Though Noctis shortly came to realize that he didn’t know what was being cooked up in the kitchen behind him. By the time he was asking his wife what they were having, the tall advisor was carefully wheeling in a cart with covered dishes and… the queen was smiling suspiciously. While the children were rejoicing, Noctis narrowed his eyes and gave his beloved a flat-lipped look that said, “I trusted you.” However, when he turned to greet Ignis and the man lifted up the lid on the large silver platter, he was relieved to find roast chickatrice with gravy. The dish next to it was a rice bowl.

“Oh.” He said out loud, unintentionally. The advisor might not have been able to see the look on his king’s face, but he had heard him and was now smiling suspiciously as well.

Ignis spoke cheekily. “I take it this is a suitable meal for his majesty and the family?”

“Of course, Ignis, thanks–Oh no…” Noctis barely had a chance to express his displeasure as the third dish was unveiled, revealing a heaping pile of roasted veggies. When the smell of broccoli hit his nose, his breath caught in his windpipe and choked him. The king struggled not to turn his head and cough towards his family on either side of him, so he just cleared his throat into his fist as nonchalantly as possible. From the left side of the table, a chorus of groans sounded before being silenced. Less enthusiastically, Noctis repeated, “Thanks, Ignis…”

“Her majesty expressed concerns about the family’s nutrition, so I surmised that a little helping of mixed vegetables was in order. I should like to know that they are to your liking.”

Noctis glared at his trusted advisor through his dark spectacles, knowing he detected the scowl without even having to see it. He turned his head slowly to face his queen.

“Everything is good when Ignis cooks it.” She echoed, patting his hand for good luck.

Her heart was in the right place, at least. Noctis nodded slowly, then Ignis handed him a pair of tongs to serve himself. While he frowned and deposited a small amount of the veggies onto his plate, he steeled himself for what was to come..

“Grosssss.” Felix commented. Didn’t help the atmosphere much.

“It’s for the kids, It’s for the kids…” The father repeated in his head. He forced a grin in their direction, as Regis once did for him as a small child. Only now he had to wonder if the aversion to vegetables was really genetic. Noctis readied his fork. “The future of Lucis sits next to you… Oh, screw it–”

Noctis took a stab at the vegetables on his plate, getting a little bit of everything in one big bite. The confident expression he wore going into it was quickly wiped off as he felt the peas in his mouth squish combined with the texture and overwhelmingly earthy taste of broccoli taking over. The carrot bits definitely weren’t his favorite, but he found himself trying to focus on the flavor of them in order to distract himself from the greens. Noctis gripped his utensil hard in his hand and fixated his eyes on the chandelier that hung high in the dining room. Why, oh why, had he taken such a big bite? Everyone was watching him chew. That taste just kept coming back. How many little lights were in that whole fixture?

“Mmk!” Those gag reflexes had to give sooner or later and finally, they did. But Noctis regained composure. His kids were watching, and he couldn’t throw up at the table. He powered through, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back before swallowing it all down. Noctis took a deep breath afterwards, laying his fork down with a clang.

“So, what do you think?” Ignis inquired. As if he didn’t already know.

“You've… outdone yourself, as usual.”

When the queen was suddenly unable to contain her giggles, Noctis lightly kicked her heel beneath the table.

The brunette smiled softly. “That’s good to know. Now, dear Felix and Solis… How much veggies would you like?”

“Ha! I told you he’d gag at least! You owe me five gil from your piggy bank!”

Noctis frowned.

Antidote || Sam Drake X Reader

Summary: Imagine being the one to bail Sam out of prison after thirteen years. But when you see him, his nose is nearly broken due to a fight. It’s up to you to help fix it and care for him throughout the night.

————-

Sam’s alive. Those two words rang in your mind like sirens sounding. After thirteen years, your Samuel Drake was still alive in that dammed Panamanian prison. Once you had received the surprise call from Rafe stating that Sam survived the gunfire, he knew that you would want to be the first to see him. “So what I want you to do, (Y/N), is go to Panama, bail him out, and bring him back to the States. Got it?” Rafe spoke through the phone.

His words seeming so lifeless and stern, you shook your head and a shaky “Yes.” escaped your lips. Rafe scoffed on the other line and continued. “I went ahead and transferred the cash to the prison for Sam’s bail. I’ll give you enough money for two flights and possibly a room while you’re there…And one other thing. You cannot tell Nathan about this!”

Before you had time to question, the call ended. You thought it was strange how after seven years of no communication Rafe decided to contact you. After everything went down with both you and Nate choosing to move on from Henry Avery’s treasure, after Sam’s death, leaving Rafe on his own to claim it as his. It was so shocking with that in the past he still phoned you, which you’re happy he did to inform you that your other half was alive.

~~~

Panama hasn’t changed. It was still the old place you remembered over a decade ago. The plane landed on the runway, its tires leaving skid marks on the scorching hot cement below. You could see the enormous prison out of the circle window next to you. Causing a sickening pain in your stomach, the memories flood back of when you and the three boys went on that horrific mission to retrieve the cross. How you warned them of it being a stupid idea and how you weren’t allowed access into the fissility. They made you be the one to do research and wait on that boat for their return, only finding that two came back and Sam was shot and had died there.

You snap back to reality as people were boarding off the aircraft. You handle the paperwork and are officially let into the country. First agenda being renting a car, you make your way out of the airport and pay for a run-down rusty black ‘07 Ford Fiesta. As you buckle the seatbelt you look at your cellphone, reading a text from Rafe, giving you the directions from the airport to the prison.

Within minutes of driving and listening to the radio, you could see the Panamanian prison in the distance. Feeling slightly nervous but over all happy to see your love again and wrap arms around each other…One mile left and you spot the gate up ahead. The car came to a stop and you slam the door shut, walking towards the prison. You’re greeted by a tall, greasy-looking guard. “How can I help you ma'am?” He spat.

“I’m here to get Samuel Drake. My-friend…” You hesitate. “Sent the bail money this morning.”

“Ahh, yes. Drake,” The guard snickered. “wait here and I’ll send him.” He then pushed a button and started speaking a different language into the walkie talkie that he held in his right hand. You leaned against the rental car as you waited for Sam to exit the prison gates; mind feeling numb and rapid thoughts submerged your brain. Nerves getting the best of you as your heart raced and anticipation grew immensely.

Minutes pass and you see the elder Drake brother making his way towards you in the same clothes you both shared your last goodbyes in. He carried luggage over his left shoulder, smiling greatly when you both locked eyes until he broke a frown, gripping his nose which was covered in fresh blood. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his torso as he dropped the bags and joined your embrace. “Sam! Your nose!” You called with concern as your lover was severely injured. You took a step back and got a better glimpse at his tired face.

“Yeah, as soon as I got the call that I was being bailed out, wards had to pull a guy off me.” Sam coughed.

“It looks broken…Sir can you do anything to help? Patch it up or give us a bandaid?” You frantically ask the guard who only laughed.

“He’s your problem now.” Said the prison guard as he shut and locked the gate behind the two of you. Only his nose seemed harmed, it bled like a busted dam with blood streaming down his face. You inform him to quickly get in the car and that you’d be taking care of him tonight. You rush down the narrow streets both sitting in silence as you drove around towns until you found a small motel to settle into.

~~~

Now halted in a parking lot you grabbed a first aid kit from the backseat, rummaging through it looking for something to stop the bleeding. Sam watched as you searched the mini box that contained medical supplies. He remained to cover his damaged nose. “Well this is a fantastic introduction to a reunion.” He teased, trying to shine some light on the subject. You glanced up at him in the passenger seat.

“I’ve never seen a nose bleed this bad before.” You mention as you take a closer look at it and lightly dab a cloth on its bridge. Sam flinched in pain as a response, you hated seeing him in this state. “Here, lets go inside and get a room. I’ll continue where it’s brighter.”

The sun was nearly down. Small rays beaming the horizon and water glistening a light blue from a marina not too far from where you two were. You helped Sam carry a bag into the building, his belongings in your left hand and your bag in your right. He held the cloth over the wound as you managed a room number in the lobby; standing behind you.

Entering through the motel door, you set the luggage down and quickly grab the medical kit once more. Sam took a seat on the bed which you soon joined him and examined the cut. Focusing on the wound you could feel his eyes on you, not looking away. Trying to ignore it you finally cracked and met his gaze. “What?” You question; blushing.

“I’m just happy to finally see you after so long.”

You hesitate for a moment as your heart beat increased. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You spoke while wiping the last bit of dry blood from his bridge and applying the bandage to it. “So I guess you’re wanting an explanation, huh?” You say as you inch back, getting comfortable on the bed with the elder Drake’s nose now recovering.

“Please by all means.” He smirked and kissed your temple.

“Rafe-” With just the mention of his name Sam’s eyes narrowed without saying a word as you continued to explain how you bailed him out of prison. “called me the other day and told me that you actually lived through the gunshots. Which I’m surprised he informed me because after the incident the three of us still looked for the treasure. Six years Nate and I stuck with Rafe, but all we did was reach dead ends. He became so obsessed with finding Avery’s treasure that Nathan and I grew tired of Rafe’s BS and left for him to find it himself. He wanted me to bail you out. Said something about meeting up with him to discuss things that he didn’t go into detail with. And lastly to not get Nate involved.”

“I think I know what he wants (Y/N).”

“What is it?” You question, not placing the puzzle pieces together.

“I’m guessing he wants me to rejoin him on the hunt for Avery’s treasure…”

“No! You can’t! Sam I lost you during our last mission. I don’t want to risk it again if you go with that bastard!”

“(Y/N)-” He got cut off.

“I’m scared Sam! This could be the last time I see you.”

Before speaking again he leaned over and kissed you on the mouth. It felt like the world had stopped, that nothing else mattered. Just the two of you in each other’s arms again after many years. Seconds after a passionate kiss the two of you departed. “I’m here with you now (Y/N) well alive and breathing. I am yours to hold and keep.” He said in a low voice.

You felt your heart grow warm in your chest. All the problems on earth slowly melting away. Your entire world sitting in front of you, he looked you in the eyes. They sparkled in the dim lighting. You lock your arms around him and whisper. “I never want to lose you again.”

His long arms wrap behind your back as you move closer to him “You never will.” He answered. Sometime of talking and sharing old memories with one another pass by and you both begin to feel tired. Fatigue lingered and Sam took off his shirt exposing the three bullet wounds on his lower abdomen; it pained you to look at them.

After changing into a pair of night clothes, he joined you in the motel bed and shut the nearby lamp off. You scoot closer to his body, hearing his breathing pattern, it sounding so soothing. You place a hand on his chest, tracing your index finger up and down his torso as the two of you doze off. You felt the texture of the three holes and stop. He looked down at you as if knowing what you were thinking. Sam grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing your palm firmly.

“Don’t worry princess, we’ll sort all of this shit out in the morning, I swear it…I love you.” He said as he turned to kiss you once more.

“I love you too.” You say while dozing off into a trance, curled up to Sam’s body, waiting for the next day to surface.

Originally posted by sosavagedrake

s-mars46  asked:

Hi first time ever bothering with a request. I really like your writing style and I would like to see your aproach for SS and #87? :) Thank you!

87. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

hahaha, i could only think of this! :) thanks for requesting ♥♥

They were some of his favorites, the round yet imperfect shape of each tomato that sat on the plate. Sakura’s emerald green eyes watched as he emerged from inside, welcoming her on their back porch.

The summer sun had been scorching hot that day, turning her ivory skin to a faint red, her nose the brightest of red she’d ever seen.

“Looks like a tomato,” Sasuke joked with a dry voice, a smirk gracing his lips.

Sakura couldn’t help but blush lightly, a smile on her own face as she lightly punched his arm. She knew he was referring to her sun burnt nose, the way it glowed in the dim light that the sun had to offer.

With a gentle breeze, Sasuke reached to the plate before plucking a simple tomato from it and plopped it in his mouth. The satisfaction was seen as he chewed and swallowed, a mellow smile forming on his face.

“How are they? Although they’re late bloomers, I managed to harvest them in time. They’re a little on the small side, but it works out,” Sakura noted, looking out to her beautiful garden.

Sasuke nodded his head gently before taking another from the plate, a low hum coming from his throat. “Hn.”

Sakura smiled before leaning back to her hands and watching the pink skies overhead turn to a burnt orange, the clouds reflecting the golden rays of light. Silence transcended upon them, and with that, comfort. It’d been awhile since it was just the two of them, peacefully enjoying a late summer night in the confines of their home.

It hadn’t been like this since they returned home from their travels; just the two of them, welcoming each day with a different outlook than the day before, not sure what would happen or when it would happen. Now, they were back in the Leaf, in a home of their own and happily married.

“Why do you like them so much?” Sakura finally asked, her eyes still scanning the green of her plants.

Sasuke remained with an expressionless face, his fingers reaching for another. The number of tomatoes had diminished rather quickly, and while she waited for his answer, she felt the weight of her body begin to lean forward.

“Why do you like dango so much?”

“Touché,” Sakura grumbled, her eyes turning to the remaining tomato on the plate. She could feel her curiosity rising; maybe she could like the particular fruit if she tried it. 

Before Sasuke could pluck the last piece of fruit from the plate, Sakura had already managed to grab it and bite into half of it, her teeth beginning to chew it. At first, the flavor was rather bland, almost sweet. The texture in her mouth was what weirded her out next.

As Sakura’s face began to twist with discomfort, Sasuke grabbed the remainder of the tomato from her hand and shot her a dangerous look. Sakura only swallowed what was left in her mouth, her eyes quickly meeting Sasuke’s mismatched orbs, a sheepish smile rising to her face.

Sasuke looked pissed off, but rather amused. Not only did Sakura try another one of his tomatoes yet again, but the dissatisfaction that crossed her face was what caused his amusement. Sakura felt the embarrassment wash over her like a wave, her face now matching the burning feeling of her sun burnt nose.

“Shouldn’t have done it if you knew you didn’t like it,” Sasuke commented before eating the remainder of the fruit, a simple smirk resting on his face. “Your cheeks look like tomatoes now, too.”

Hidden Rooms - Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Jughead has followed a mysterious new girl to a room that provides students with escape. He starts to learn more about the girl to only find himself infatuated with her.

Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 4,985

Masterlist

Taglist: @sgarrett49 @theselfishllama


The weekend was full of investigating, writing as well as a failed attempt by Mr. Andrews in trying to make spaghetti for dinner. Yet every free moment, my mind would wander to Y/N. I just wanted to know what Monday would bring.


She didn’t see me but I saw her. She was taking books out of her locker when Cheryl and some of her posse went up to her. I couldn’t make out the words but Y/N’ s face went stern and red. Cheryl left with a signature hair flip while Y/N’s callous eyes followed Cheryl. She turned, slammed her locker close, and fled.

Keep reading

catsandcannolis  asked:

I think fidget toys are great for people who ACTUALLY need them. Being Autistic AND dealing with anxiety issues means stimming when necessary for me. I have a fidget cube and a spinner which I use at work a lot. Nobody questions it though, which I'm thankful for. I'm currently looking for a green or purple tangle toy since I've heard they're great for stimming. Anyone have a suggestion?

Tangles are awesome!! I definitely recommend getting one. There are a lot of options to chose form which can be overwhelming. However, the main choices are Tangle Therapy/Relation, Fuzzy Tangles, Hairy Tangles, Metallic Tangles, Textured Tangles, and assorted Tangle Jrs. 

Tangle Therapy/Relax: textured, rubberized, bigger than the tangle jrs. 

Fuzzy Tangle: soft, almost felted. Feels really nice, but the fuzzy stuff wears off pretty quick

Hairy Tangles: Rubber strings all over Tangle. Provides great sensory input but can’t be used as easily as other tangles.

Metallic Tangles: Tangle Jrs that are shiny and smooth. Great for manipulating and look nice

Textured Tangle:Hard plastic with some joints having different textures. Good for additional sensory input

Assorted Tangle Jr.: Comes in a variety of colors and patterns. Smooth. Manipulate easily. 

Once you figure out what kind of tangle you want, there are quite a few options of places to shop for them. I highly recommend Amazon as they have a wide variety of tangles and the prices are usually pretty good. I’ve heard Ebay can also be a good option. 

I hope you find a great tangle!

-Sabrina

A Daydream

Ben was walking down a sand dune. He was wondering how did he get here? He never wandered off the path, and this place didn’t look like anywhere he had been before. From the heat and his shadow on the sand he figured it was mid day. Ben looked up at the suns and almost lost his mind along with his footing. He landed on his butt, his mouth falling open. Where was the red sun? This couldn’t be right. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, there was only one sun in the sky.

He grabbed a fistful of sand and felt the texture. If he wasn’t mistaken the sand somehow felt smoother as well. Sand of Tatooine was coarser and more grainy in texture, this in comparison was rather smooth. Nothing made sense. Where the hell was he? As far as his eyes went there was sand and sand, no terrines.The atmosphere too was drier in comparison.

Ben realized with a jolt he wasn’t on Tatooine anymore, he was someplace else. He didn’t know what to do. How did he get here? That was when he felt something blunt poking the back of his shoulder. He jumped to his feet and looked back, hand reaching for his saber on his belt. And with a shock he realized, he didn’t have his saber with him.

He followed the metal rod that was poking him to it’s source. There was a small and slender creature in light beige cloth standing on a dune, assuming a defensive stance. It was a humanoid, albeit short, and had its head covered with a headscarf and had large handmade goggled covering its eyes.

It jerked the rod, or staff, in front of him in a threatening manner and shouted something in an alien language that Ben didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry,” He brushed his hand on his robes, “I don’t understand you.” He enunciated the words slowly to make the creature understand.

“Oh basic,” it said, and it was still pointing its weapon at him, but he could hear its voices muffled by the covers. “Who are you and what are you doing in my territory?”

The voice sounded like a child and it had a weird accent, Ben couldn’t quite place.

“I’ve no idea how I got here,” Ben answered truthfully.

The creature, pulled the scarf covering its mouth and pushed the goggle up. A large pair of hazel eyes stared back at him. And a freckled face with upturned nose and chapped lips. The creature was a human child, but Ben couldn’t tell if they were a boy or a girl.

“Are you lost?” It’s a girl. This time Ben was certain. “Where are you from?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, kid.’ Ben said, with his hand on his waist, as he looked around.

She arched a delicate eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. “Try me?”

Ben chuckled, “Tatooine. It’s another desert planet. I don’t know how I got here.”

She finally lowered her staff and held it at her side, it was at least a foot longer than her. But she carried it with ease and conviction.

“Did someone drop you here?” she asked with a sudden sadness in her tone that made Ben really look at her. He could feel sadness and understanding rolling off her.

“I don’t know.” He replied and pause before asking. “Did someone drop you here?”

There was sudden flash of anger and then she schooled her expression. She looked at him with curiosity that unnerved him a little, like she could see right through him. She pulled the scarf off her head. She had brown hair that she put up in three small buns. Ben gasped.

“Have I seen you before?” She tilted her head to the side, “You seem very familiar.”

Ben didn’t want to ponder that, because he was feeling the same way. The kid looked awfully familiar, like he’d seen her somewhere, but had forgotten. And the hair buns– it was like her. He suddenly felt a pressure on the back of his eyes, like thinking about the topic was making his brain inflame. He fell on his knees clutching his head and heard someone calling his name, from a distance.

“Ben!”

Excerpt from Chapter 2 of Adventures of Young Ben Solo

Read Chapter 1 - Pod Racing on AO3


Will be update on Tuesday :) For @reylorobyn2011 because she apparently needs a dash and eye cleanse. 😂😂