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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

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Punishment

Summary: The MI6 knew who to send to find August Walker. And August Walker knew exactly what buttons he had to push to get what he wanted. At least he thought so until he woke up chained to his own bed. Naked.

Pairing: August Walker x nameless OFC (you)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fem-Dom vibes, Dom vibes, Bondage, Smut (dirty talk; unprotected sex; facesitting, oral, Anal Play, Anal), getting drugged

A/N: I know I say this often but I think this gets on the top 3 on the filthiest things I ever wrote. Thanks to my obsessive better half @ladyreapermc for being the best beta ever. Love you x

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The way he laughed while he knew you were sitting at the bar watching him was slowly but surely driving you mad. There he sat, his tie loose, his legs spread while the women around him looked at him like he was the single most tempting specimen that walked the Earth.

You felt a tap on your naked shoulder.

You had bought a new little black dress for this little mission specifically. It didn’t leave much to the imagination but still had enough space that you could wear your gun strapped to your upper thigh.

“Is this seat taken?” You looked over your shoulder, seeing a very attractive man with bright green eyes smile at you. You caught August’s gaze as you turned fully on the seat, your attention shifting towards the stranger.

“Be my guest.” You smiled. A little distraction wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

An hour later the stranger called Jim had to leave. By now you knew he was going through a dirty divorce and just wanted to let loose, but you were here for a mission and couldn’t exactly help. Not that you wanted to.

Finishing your drink, you carefully got off your seat, taking your purse as you turned and walked towards August Walker.

“There she is. My favorite agent.” August smirked as you approached him.

You raised your eyebrow at the women in his arms who shared a look and then got up, leaving without a comment. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, noticing his eyes lingering on your cleavage before he met your gaze. His hair was longer, his signature mustache hidden under the overgrown facial hair.

“You aren’t as hard to find as you think, August.”

“Yet, it took you an entire week to actually find me.” He crooked his eyebrow.

You leaned closer, giving him a good view of your breasts as you picked his drink. His eyes remained on your body as you traced the edge of the glass with a finger before you handed it to him. He let his tongue dart out, wetting his lips before he took the glass, his fingers brushing yours before he brought the tumbler up to his lips, emptying it completely.

“I think I need to remind you of the terms of your deal,” you said, your fingers on his cheek. His eyes darkened, his hand grabbed your wrist guiding your finger into his mouth sucking on it. You breathed in deep, feeling the wetness pooling in between your legs.

“I’d like to see you try, agent.” He grinned.

You tilted your head, your hands now on both of his wide shoulders as you leaned down your lips close to his ear.

“Be in your room in 5 minutes and find out.” You winked at him as you turned around to leave the bar. Looking over your shoulder you could see him checking you out. August Walker was in for a good punishment. And if only he knew the game had already started.

When you let yourself into his room 10 minutes later, August lay passed out on his bed. Grinning to yourself, you set your purse down on the table and put the “Do not Disturb” sign on the door of his hotel room before closing and locking it behind you.

You were just putting the finishing touches to your outfit when you heard the rattle of metal followed by a groan. You turned off the lights in the bathroom and opened the door to walk back into the hotel room.

“Ah! You’re awake.” You grinned as you walked towards the bed. There he was, just how you left him. Naked, already half-hard, and chained to the bed. You did think of using rope at first when you imagined this night but quickly decided against it. A strong man like August needed something stronger. Something… colder.

“It was the drink, wasn’t it?” He asked groaning, rolling his eyes. You didn’t know if he was more furious with you or with himself for getting caught in such a basic trick.

“Of course it was.”

“Great. And what are you planning on doing with me chained to the bed?” He asked, testing the handcuffs connected to a chain.

“Tonight, August Walker, you will learn that you have to follow the rules. If not the one’s from the MI6, then at least mine.”

“Or what?” He crooked his eyebrow.

You smiled at him and opened your bathrobe to reveal what you wore underneath, which wasn’t more than a garter belt, stockings and a cord with the keys to the handcuffs around your neck.

He hissed as he took you in, his wrists fighting against the handcuffs, his muscles flexing. Slowly you let the bathrobe fall to the floor as you moved closer. You got on it, kneeling in between his legs, your hands in his crotch as you took the beauty of him in. Biting your lip of all the things you imagined doing to him, you sighed.

“Or I won’t fuck you.” You smiled sweetly at him.

“Like you could say no to my long and thick cock. Look how hard I already am for you.” He flashed you an arrogant grin..

You didn’t have to be told twice, staring down at the hard shaft throbbing right in front of you. The temptation of just sinking around him was strong but you pushed it away, sticking to the plan. You clicked your tongue at him, sitting down in between his legs spreading yours over his.

“Fuck!” He cursed in a low voice since now you wet pussy was in full display but completely out of his reach. He fought against his restraints, his breath picking up speed..

“See Mr. Walker…” You smirked, voice soft and sultry, your hands wandering over your body, ignoring him completely. You pinched your nipple, making yourself gasp, your other hand slowly running down your body letting one finger flick over your clit.

“As much as I would love for you to fuck me senseless like in the past…” You continued to play with your pussy, your hand knowing just what to do to pleasure yourself. “Tonight, you are not in charge. You are going to make me cum over and over again. And maybe if you behave well enough, you get to cum inside of me. Maybe, if you’re a really good boy, I’ll even let you fuck my ass.” You looked at him, seeing sweat form on his forehead as he watched you play with yourself. You whimpered as you pushed two fingers inside while massaging your breast with the other.

“But… I have to be sure if you’ll follow the rules in the future before you get to cum inside of me.” You bit your lip as you began to fuck yourself with your fingers, finding that spot inside of you that made you see stars.

Closing your eyes you forgot about the man in front of you, chasing your orgasm. Moans left your lips and you could hear the handcuffs rattle, his thighs shifting underneath your legs. You ignored him as you felt your orgasm wash over you, his name on your lips.

Panting, you opened your eyes, meeting his dark blue ones.

“You are going to regret this once you unchain me, kitten.” He growled and you grinned wickedly as you crawled over him to straddle his stomach. You pushed your wet fingers in his mouth hearing him moan as he tasted you.

“Who says, I am going to unchain you, August?” You grinned down at him.

“You gonna keep me here as your fuck pet?” He asked, words muffled around your fingers.

“A very nice idea. How about you earn your way to freedom, hm?”

“And how do I do that?”

“What was your record again? 6 times?” You rolled your hips on top of him, drenching his chest hair with your juices. He nodded.

“Then how about this: I’ll unchain you once you make me cum 8 times? And because I’m feeling generous, the one I just had also counts.”

You continued to roll your hips on top of him as he looked up at you.

“Deal.” He grinned with such confidence you almost faltered, but did the best to cover up with a smirk to match his.

“You sure you're up to this, August? Without your magical hands?” You teased, both of your hands on his shoulders, as you rubbed your pussy over his stomach trying to get some friction.

“I think you know my tongue is more than enough.”

“Right. I always wanted to shut you up like this.”

You grinned as you inched forward, your pussy just over his face. You almost screamed in ecstasy when he brought his head up and licked on stripe from back to front, moaning as he tasted you. With one hand on the headboard, the other hand in his curls you let him devour you.

There’s one thing August Walker doesn’t step back from and that is a challenge. After he made you cum for the third time with his tongue, your body was slick with sweat, your chest heaving and your pussy throbbing with overstimulation. All you wanted was for him to fuck you senseless. And he knew it. You got off him, letting yourself fall down beside him as you tried to catch your breath.

“Already tired?” He asked in a mocking tone, despite being slightly out of breath. You turned your head towards him, noticing his face wet with your juices, a shit-eating grin on his swollen lips.

“Just catching my breath, big boy.” You smirked back.

“You know. You could always just give up. Unchain me and I won’t punish you too hard, little kitten.” He said.

“You’re not in charge here, August. I am. Though, I do think you deserve a little reward, don't you?” You asked. He said nothing as you carefully got on your knees, your legs still feeling like jelly and knelt next to his cock.

“I don’t think…” You let one finger run up from his balls to his tip, his skin burning hot and sticky with all the precum that had leaked out. “I have ever seen you this hard.” You looked at him, noticing his clenched jaw as he breathed hard.

“Do you want me to suck your cock, August? Do you want me to gag on your big fat cock?” You asked, leaning down and just kissing the tip. You licked your lips as you straightened up, tasting his precum and moaned pornographically. You didn’t wait for his answer as you parted your lips and took him as deep as you could, hearing him curse. You looked at him as you found a rhythm, your tongue licking the prominent vein on the underside feeling it pulse.

Releasing him with a plop, you closed your fist around him, continuing your torture.

“You wanna cum inside my mouth?” You asked, earning a beast-like growl.

“Once I get free, I’m gonna fill every hole in your body.” He hissed.

“Is that a threat I hear?” You grinned and spat into your hand before you continued to jack him off.

“It’s a promise, kitten.”

You saw his victorious grin a second before you felt his hand on your nape. Alarmed, you reached for the chain around your neck, hand coming up empty as August had already taken them. You had no idea at what point he had managed that and didn’t have much time to think about it as he held your face down and forced his cock in between your lips. He thrust into your mouth, his hand pulling your hair into a ponytail and keeping your head down forcing his cock deeper and deeper making you gag.

“You think you are in charge here, little kitten?” He tugged on your hair, making you move up his body until he could kiss you hard.

“I am in charge of you. I’m in charge of you every second of the day. Even when you’re fucking your dildo in your shower. I always know what you do.” He hissed, looking deep into your eyes.

“I knew you would be here before you even knew it, kitten. Who do you think gave the MI6 the tip of where I was.” He grinned, making you gasp.

“And now quit the bullshit and fuck my cock before I really punish you.” He kissed you again, his teeth nibbling your upper lip.

Straddling his hips, immediately you took him deep inside of you, biting your lip as he settled inside of you perfectly. Like he always did.

“Fucking made for me.” He groaned, slapping your ass hard, as he thrust up into you, watching you like a hawk as he brought his hand up and unlocked the other cuff, releasing his left hand..

“You must have been really desperate for my pussy if you dislocated your own thumb to get out of the handcuffs.” You moaned, grinding on top of him. One of his hands massaged one of your breasts, while his other was on your ass moving your body on top of him.

“I haven’t had a pussy since the last time we fucked.”

“Liar.” You moaned, crying out loud when he slapped your ass hard.

“Do not call me a liar. I never lie.” He growled. You swallowed hard, looking down at him. His beautiful eyes staring back at you. Against your better judgement, you actually believed him.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning down and crossing your arms around his neck as you kissed him. He began to thrust into you, slow and deep both of his hands on your ass, one of his fingers teasing your asshole.

“You really want me to fuck your ass?” He asked, smirking up at you.

“I want you to cum in my ass, August.” You whispered, biting his earlobe.

“You must be really desperate for my cock, huh?” He grinned, thrusting faster, holding you close against him. Your breathing got heavier, the familiar sparks in your lower belly returning.

“I missed you, August.” You whimpered, crying out as he fucked you into your fifth orgasm. He kissed you almost tenderly as his hands pushed your hair out of your face. He looked at you as if he was seeing you for the first time.

“I want you on all fours.” He whispered. Still breathing heavily, you followed his command and weakly got yourself in position and turned your head to watch him.

August rubbed his chafed wrists before popping his thumb back in place like it was nothing, before he set the keys on the bedside table, flashing you a quick smirk.

“I really want to chain you up sometime,” He commented as he pulled a drawer open, fishing something out.

“The last time we did this, I had to carry you to the bathtub.” He said as you watched him stroke himself with a lot of lube, before you felt something cold on your ass. His finger played with your asshole, slowly forcing it in as his other hand played with your pussy.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you pass out under me, kitten.” He chuckled darkly as he shifted behind you, one of his hands on your hip as you felt the tip of his cock.

“Ready or not…” He said before he slowly pushed inside.

Before you met August 6 years ago you weren’t into anything kinky. You were freshly recruited into the MI6 and most of all, a virgin. You fell in love with him. All of him. In all of his wicked ways.

You both groaned loudly when he was fully inside. A sensation you probably would never get used to. And you never wanted to. He played with your clit as he fucked your ass.

“Always so fucking tight and ready for me.” He moaned as he began to thrust faster. You grabbed the bedsheet, meeting his thrusts.

“I want you to come away with me.” He groaned, fucking you harder.

“I want you to leave the shitshow of the MI6 and stay with me.”

He abandoned your clit only to pump two fingers into your pussy, his other hand on your stomach, pulling you with your back against his chest. You were a sobbing mess high on pleasure as you brought one of your hands behind you to his neck, holding onto him.

“Come away with me, kitten.” He whispered against your ear. Adding a third finger as he fingerfucked your pussy. You felt his movements become harder and even faster, finding yourself close to orgasm again.

“Come away with me and help me cleanse this planet.” He moaned against your ear.

Moaning his name you nodded, your other hand finding your clit, screaming when you came hard. You were shaking in his grip, holding on to him as he pushed you down on the matress, fucking you deeper as he finally reached his own orgasm, spilling his seed as deep as possible. You whimpered as he lay on top of you, still hard inside your ass.

“I’ll go with you, August.” You said quietly, still trying to get back to breathing properly.

“I was hoping you would say that.” He kissed you shoulder, pulling out of you and getting off the bed. You heard water running and turned around to look at him coming out of the bathroom, rubbing a washcloth over his cock. Parting your legs as he got back to bed, he settled still hard on top of you. You raised your eyebrow.

“I promised to fill all your holes, didn’t I?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #august walker #august walker x reader #henry cavill #august walker smut #smut #ff #august waker x ofc

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

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Last Night on the Plain

Summary; As an archeology student at the end of your first year of University, you spend the summer on a dig in the South of England. Throughout the whole dig you’ve lusted after the site-lead; a fresh out of his doctorate Dr Cavill, assigned to the dig to get some leadership experience. Will the last night you spend on Salisbury Plain be one to remember?

(This fic is a prequel to my multichapter story Superior Specimen it can be read alone but contains spoilers for that story) Links for Superior Specimen: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Pairing: Grad Student Henry Cavill x 19 year old Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Mutual Pining, Professor/Student Relationship, Oral Sex, Blow Job, Fingering, Unprotected Sex. SPOILERS FOR Superior Specimen.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post a new fic.

Please check out my AO3 for masterlist.

Last Night on the Plain

Sitting on the kerb outside Iceland, the little town of Warminster was quiet on a Saturday afternoon. The Land Rover would soon be coming through to pick you and your friends up, the dig site lead having driven a few of you into town to collect supplies for the last night of the six week long dig.

Six weeks of living in tents, running to the nearby stream to dive into the Watercress filled waters and wash, rinsing your underwear in a bucket and hanging over guy ropes of the tents and hoping the cows in the next field over don’t lean over the fence and eat them, six weeks of celebrating the end of your first year of University.

You loved Archaeology, having studied hard for your A-Levels at college, you got the grades to go to Southampton University to study it. The dig would contribute towards your yearly grade, teaming up with other uni’s from around England, the excavations on the far west of Salisbury Plain in the south of England, and the project was to uncover settlements from when the giant pillars of Stonehenge were moved from their starting point in Wales and anything from the trade routes over the following millennia.

Your friend nudged you in the ribs, nodding to the vehicle heading towards the three of you;

“Hey hey, here comes Cav”

“Dibs on shotgun” you blurted out, your friends groaning at your speed at calling the front seat.

Standing, the three of you watched as the site lead pulled up to the kerb, his big smile at seeing you misfits waiting for him made your stomach do a little flip. He brought the Land Rover to a bumpy halt at the kerb, leaving the engine running as he got out and helped load the supplies into the back, reaching the front passenger door just in time to hold it open for you. You missed the way he looked at your ass as you climbed in, shutting the door after you.

The ride back to the dig site was bumpy; 30-year-old Land Rovers weren’t known for their comfort, the lack of seatbelts in the vintage vehicle not helping as the country roads and tracks were littered with potholes. You were painfully aware of the way your breasts were bouncing around, having foregone bras within the first week of the dig. They pinched and prodded you as you bent over excavating for hours on end and became an unnecessary addition to have to bother keep washing by hand.

On one particularly vicious bump you were bounced across the narrow bench seat, grabbing at Cav’s leg before you ended up headbutting the steering wheel. He apologetically smiled at you;

“Sorry…”

“S’ok”

You rode in silence for a while, the pair in the back deep in discussion about the merits of getting an upgrade from their Sony Ericsson’s to Blackberries. Finally your seatmate spoke;

“So, pink, huh Punk?”

You pulled at a strand of hair, holding it out from your head and grinned;

“The Sun-In turned it orange. Orange isn’t my colour”

“I left you in town for forty five minutes… how did you have time to dye your hair?” he said with a grin.

“It’s Cherry flavour Panda Pop. We stood in the alley behind Ladbrokes and poured a bottle over my hair”

He laughed, his toothy grin wide and genuine;

“That explains the smell”

“Hope you’re referring to the cherry and not the alley”

His face paled and he stuttered, before you grinned and gave his thigh a squeeze;

“I’m teasing”

He smiled and turned his attention back to the road, concentrating on the journey now that the paved roads had finished and it was now dusty tracks across the farmland. You watched as he steered the vehicle, and you knew he was going to be your only regret of the summer. Dr Cavill, or Cav as everyone called him on site, fresh having finished his doctorate in Palaeontology, but desperately in need of some leadership skills and experience on how to run a site dig. He was cute. Tall and fit, gorgeous blue eyes and high cheekbones, both of which were regularly hidden by his mop of soft chestnut brown hair. When he was deep in concentration he would nibble at his lip and it only made them plumper.

You were so in your little dream world that when he made the sharp right hand turn into the field the dig was in you lost your grip, your hand sliding from its spot on his thigh to in between his legs, your head low on his stomach;

“Oh!”

He slowed the Land Rover as you scrambled back to your seat, his cheeks flushed and pink.

“Sorry…”

The campfire was down to its last embers, the sun almost fully set. It was the last night of the dig and you were all celebrating. The finds had been fantastic, everything catalogued and recorded, friendships hatched and grown, sunburn peeling away to reveal soft skin, leave-in bleach hair sprays and nights of passing around a three litre bottle of White Lightning - the cheapest by volume cider you could find. Cav had excused himself to his tent, not often joining the students for the latter parts of drinking, and the nights argument was whether or not it was too late to walk the three miles to the Red Lion pub in Heytesbury.

“You guys go. I’m gonna take one last look at the north end trench, see if i can find my amethyst necklace I lost last week”

“Punk, you’re drunk, it’s getting dark too!”

“I’m not drunk, I’ve had a few sips of Cider, and I’ve got a head torch”

“Fine, suit yourself”

Brushing through the sandy soil you were yet to find your necklace, but as the friction under the brush suddenly changed you looked closer, smiling when you saw what was revealed.

Minutes later you stood at his tent, calling out;

“Cav? I’ve found something…”

He appeared in the doorway, the camping lantern illuminating his tent as it sat on the table where he would write his notes and inspect finds;

“Hey! What have you…” he saw the shards of pottery you were holding in your hands, his eyes going wide; “You found the last parts?”

Nodding you smiled. Throughout the dig the team had discovered finds from multiple era’s, and one he’d found was the majority of shards from a Roman Pot, an urn that would have been used to carry Olive Oil all the way from the southernmost parts of the Roman Empire. You knew that it had been frustrating him that all his attempts to reassemble the urn had failed, the missing pieces seemingly integral to the structure.

He pulled the tent flap to the side for you to enter, setting the pieces down onto the table before straddling the bench that sat beside it. Cav came over and grabbed the tray that held the other parts, a ball of blu-tack nestled in the corner;

“This is amazing! It looks like all the missing pieces are here!” he turned to you, his eyes shining bright in the glow of the lamp; “I thought you all were going to the pub?”

“I stayed… I wanted to have one last search for my necklace I lost last week”

“Oh… did you find it?”

“No. But this is so much better! C’mon, I wanna see if we can get this to fit together now!”

His long legs meant he could step over the bench with ease, sitting down next to you and you watched as he started to push the pieces together, cradling them in his large handspan. Softening the blu-tack he pulled a little off and applied it to the edge of a piece, angling his arm at an awkward angle, cursing under his breath;

“Could you…”

“Sure” taking the piece from him he held the fragile urn in both hands as you bent over his arms and stuck it into place, moving onto the next piece, this time near his hand furthest from you.

Due to the angles you were struggling to see, before you spoke quietly;

“Lean back a little”

He did as you asked, extending his arms to full stretch as he held the artefact, letting out a squeak of surprise as you tucked yourself under one arm, shuffling to straddling his lap and sit;

“Okay, now I can see what I’m doing…” you muttered as you pushed your ass back against him, the whole thing completely innocent, but you were unaware of the look of panic on his face, how he was afraid he was going to crack a tooth from gritting his jaw, willing his dick not to get hard.

He was now rendered to simply holding the urn in place, he was unable to concentrate, however you had taken over the placement of the new pieces, slotting them into their gaps, the blu-tack holding them secure. As you slid the final piece in you sat back, resting your back against his chest, smoothing your hands over his as you both took in the piece of pottery that dated back two millennia;

“It's stunning…” you muttered.

He softly brushed his thumbs over the sides of your hands, and you felt the warm puff of breath on your neck as he spoke;

“So are you…”

You let out a breathy sigh, your back arching and you could feel he was hard, the bulge against your ass pressing incessantly against you. Resting your head against his shoulder you turned your head and his lips caught your own. The world stopped and you saw stars as those soft pink pillows caressed your lips, moaning into his mouth and he took the chance to slip his tongue against yours.

Somehow the two of you managed to gently rest the delicate artefact back onto the tray in the midst of your fledgling passion, his hands intertwining with yours, fingers laced together as his tongue worked magic with your own.

When you broke the kiss you were gasping for air, his mouth finding your neck as he kissed along your exposed shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth dragging against your skin and making you moan;

“Oh… oh fuck… yes…”

He stopped for a moment, his hands still entwined with yours but he wrapped his arms around your body;

“Tell me to stop… tell me this is wrong, I’m your supervisor…”

“It’s the last night… let’s give ourselves this night… Just promise not to fall in love with me…”

“It may be too late for that already” he murmured against your skin, but you were lost in the haze of lust to comprehend his words.

Your hands finally parted, his slipping beneath your strappy t-shirt, yours reaching back to curl into his hair as his tongue danced patterns over your neck again. You were writhing on his lap, lost in the moment when suddenly the bench tipped, the two of you falling back and landing on the ground.

You moved first, rolling off before turning and straddling him, leaning over to catch his lips with your own as you ground your clothed core against the bulge in his tented shorts;

“I’ve wanted to feel you between my thighs for the last six weeks” you muttered against his earlobe, pressing kisses to his jawline as his hands found your ass and pulled you firmly down onto his body; “The amount of times I’ve gotten myself off in silence as I thought about sneaking into your tent…”

He could only let out a guttural moan, and as your hands found the edge of his t-shirt you parted so you could strip him of it.

You sat back, pressing yourself down harder against his growing erection as you admired his smooth and pale chest, the tiniest crop of hairs right in the centre, delicate muscle definition but still slim and athletic. You watched his face as you trailed your fingers down the length of his long body, finally brushing against the thin trail of hairs that led from his navel into his shorts. You shifted back a little, unfastening the button on his Khaki shorts and unzipping him, reaching into his underwear and grasping his hot length before pulling him free of the cotton confinements.

Bending you took him into your mouth, sliding your tongue over his hot flesh as you swallowed around him, bobbing your head up and down. His hands found your head, pressing gently to tell you the speed he liked, a string of curses falling from his lips as you rapidly drove him to the brink of pleasure. It didn’t take long until he let out an ‘uh-oh’ and you slid a hand up his stomach, his own grasping at it as he started to cum in your mouth. You swallowed all that he gave you, his back arching as he thrust up into the warm comfort between your lips, before his body went limp.

Pulling off him his hands gripped at your arms, pulling you up his chest until you were laying on top of him;

“You’ll need to give me a moment… then I’ll be right with you…”

You grinned and pressed a kiss to his bite swollen lips before standing, and he pushing himself up to rest on his elbows, a look of panic on his face before you grinned at him;

“Chill… just getting more comfy…”

You pulled your top off and dropped it to the ground, unfastening your combat shorts and let them fall too, kicking off your flipflops before you were standing there in just your knickers, your thumbs hooked over the sides before he finally spoke;

“I want to be the one to take those off…”

He quickly stood and pulled you over to the double air mattress he had in his tent, watching you lay back against his sleeping bag as he stripped himself of the rest of this clothing. As he climbed on he crawled up your body, and it was then that you saw the tiniest patch of brown in the sea of his blue eyes. You were mesmerized by it as he lay over you, your legs parting as he rutted against you, already growing hard again. He moved to your side and slid a hand down the length of your sternum, over your soft stomach and into your underwear, feeling how the thin cotton was soaked through with your arousal. Sitting up he pulled the ruined scrap of fabric down your legs, looking at your soaked petals as he parted them with his long fingers, finding your sensitive nub and rubbing delicate circles against it, before sliding his hand down and pushing two fingers into your soaked hole;

“Fuck… you feel so tight…”

“I need you… I need you inside me…”

“I don’t… I don’t have any protection…” he looked pained to admit what could be the stopping point of the night.

“I’m on the pill… been taking it continually so I didn’t get a period whilst on the dig…you can go bare…”

His eyes went wide, he’d had a number of lovers over his years at University, and he was well into his mid 20’s, but he had always used condoms, never wanting the girl to have to take the responsibility for their tryst… he had never gone bare but just at the mere thought of sliding into your heat, to feel your hot wetness against his skin, it made him as hard as a rock.

He scissored his fingers inside you before shifting, pulling them from you as he positioned himself between your thighs, the light from the lantern casting long shadows over your bodies. He rested his tip against your folds, taking a moment to lick your juices from his fingers, then with a smirk he started to press into you.

With each passing inch your eyes fluttered shut, not realising you were missing the look on his face as he found heaven between your legs. The feel of your pussy around him was almost suffocating, hugging him so tight as he slid in with ease from your arousal;

“Oh my god… you feel so fucking good… you’re gonna have to tell me how you like it, cos’ I don’t think I’m going to last long…” he muttered.

Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongues whilst your body grew accustomed to his impressive length inside you, the biggest you had ever taken;

“Hard and fast, I was made to be broken… break me…”

At your words something changed in him, pushing his body onto his arms as he started to rut into you, watching your juices shine on his dick as he pulled out, only to slam back in as your body took every inch of him, your silken channel hugging him tight. The tent was filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, and knowing you were the only ones on site your voices rose, your moans filling the night sky.

Your body was bucking beneath him, shaking from pleasure and he could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer. He desperately wanted to feel you come around him, pushing a hand between your bodies he rubbed furiously at your clit, feeling your body tighten and your back arch, and as you came your body trembled around him.

The feeling was indescribable, he was so deep in pleasure that when his back arched and he came deep inside you he let out a roar, his eyes screwed shut as he filled you with his come, finally going limp, his arms shaking from the exertion of holding himself above you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of you, burying your face in his neck as you breathed in his scent.

Finally finding his voice he whispered quietly;

“Stay with me tonight”

Wrapped in the sleeping bag and blankets you did just that, curled up in his arms and the warmth of his embrace.

Henry was woken by the sounds of the camp being broken down, the crews from the various universities packing up their things as the minibuses arrived to take them back to the halls of residences or shared houses. He was alone in his bed, and as he sat up he could hear your voice yelling out to your tent-mates to ‘pick up your fucking stuff’.

In the hours that followed various vehicles turned up on site, his own supervisors, benefactors and sponsors of the dig, all very excited by the finds and reports, and especially of the assembled Roman Urn. At every moment he tried to get away, tried to find a moment to talk to you, but as the minutes and hours ticked by the window was closing.

You were all packed up, everything in the old minibus. Every time you had looked across the site he was talking to someone important looking, never getting a moment where he was alone. The driver of your minibus honked the horn and you panicked;

“Hang on, I’ve just got one more thing to do…”

You ran across the site and he saw you, excusing himself from the people he was talking to and managed to intercept you behind the old Ford Transit van that was taking the equipment away. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your lips;

“I didn’t want you to leave before I got to say goodbye”

Your bottom lip trembled, your voice shaking;

“I’ve left my number on a piece of paper on your table, its tucked under the tray with the urn on”

He let out a sigh of relief, nodding before kissing you again, the sound of your minibus driver honking the horn impatiently.

You reluctantly pulled out of his arms, giving him a final wave before running to the bus, and he watched from the side of the van as you climbed in, the vehicle driving off into the distance as a cloud of dust trailed behind it.

“Henry!” an older male voice called out cheerfully.

Rubbing his palms over his face he took a deep breath, before turning and smiling at his supervising professor;

“Hey, good to see you Sir”

The older man clapped a hand over Henry’s shoulder;

“You’ve done an amazing job on this dig… the reports that came in have been exemplary. You had all the same students at the end of the dig as at the start which I’ll have you know is a particular skill… some site leads drive students away in droves!”

Leading Henry back towards the dig site he waxed lyrical about Henry’s skill and how he showed true leadership skills, turning to another gentleman that was leaning against Henry’s Land Rover;

“Have you met Piers?”

Henry shook his head, he knew who he was being introduced to, the CEO of the most prestigious museum in the UK and some would say the world with regards to Archaeology and Palaeontology. Shaking the man’s hand he was speechless;

“We’ve been following the dig reports, your talent is something I haven’t seen for many years… we’d like to discuss a position on our expedition board with you…”

“Y-yes… that would be fantastic! Thank you”

“Now, let’s see that Roman urn I’ve been hearing all about…”

Leading the men to his tent he lifted the tray, pulling it out into the sunshine as they took in the beauty of it, no-one noticing the small scrap of paper catch on the wind and slipping out of the tent, Henry too distracted by the reality of being hired for his dream job.

Many Years Later.

Henry grinned as his team crowed around him, the heat of the Siberian Summer seeping into their pores. In broken Russian the students were laughing and shouting, before three of them carried the massive femur bone they’d excavated a few days previously over to Henry, heaving it into his massive arms.

“Smile!” someone shouted out and he heard the clicks of phone camera shutters, before he gently rested it onto the soft ground, chatting to the team as he did so.

That night they hit the bars of the nearest town, Henry smiling when he saw one had wifi, connecting his phone and uploading a few updates to the dig account and also his own. An hour later he checked his phone and saw his Instagram notifications, one account name in particular catching his attention; @thepunkwiththepinkhair

It couldn't be, could it?

It was. It was you. The pink may be gone, but he had finally found you again.

*******************************************************************************

Thank you for reading!

Some explanations of British shops/brands;

Iceland = a budget supermarket chain

White Lightning = cheap, harsh apple cider, sold in bottles that are 3000ml/a gallon for around £5.00 (USD7/EURO6)

Panda Pop = very cheap fizzy drink, full of additives, artificial colours, sugar.

Ladbrokes - a chain of gambling shops.

Sun-in - spray in hair bleach that you would spritz on your hair and go out in the sunshine, and it would bleach your hair. Apparently it was meant to give you ‘sun kissed highlights’, but when i was 18 i turned my hair bright orange with it.

In the UK University starts when you are 18, and a degree lasts 3 or 4 years. You can then do a ‘post graduate course’ which is another year of studying, and if you want to work towards your doctorate, it can be another 4-7 years on top of that, which is why Henry in this story is literally fresh out of studying even though he is approximately 25 years old.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut

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the-original-b · 3 years

Text

Other cool dinosaurs

As a few of you know, I recently made a post about a statue of a T. Rex using the dimensions of Specimen FMNH PR 2081, known as SUE by the community, and it got more attention than I ever thought something like that would. And while I’m thrilled that so many of you share my passion for dinosaurs, I mentioned a few other creatures in that post that I feel were outshined by the T. Rex. And they deserve our respect and admiration too.

So this post is about them.

First, I want to introduce you to my friend Al.

...short for Allosaurus, regarded by many as the Jurassic’s alpha predator; measuring 32 feet (10 meters) from nose to tail, standing 10 feet (3 meters) tall, and weighing between two and three tons, it’s easy to see why.

The name Allosaurus is derived from Greek, meaning “Different Lizard,” for its vertebral structure which was different from everything else at the time of its discovery. Based on tiny fractures found in their bones, we know Allosaurus was an active predator, but its legs were comparatively short and not great for running long distances. So it’s believed that it preferred to use stealth to close the gap on its target then pounce when close enough, similar to a leopard. When it did, it shot out at speeds of 20 to 30 miles per hour (32 - 48kph), and used its long arms tipped with large, clawed hands to hold its prey down while its mouth finished the job.

And this mouth was nothing to sneeze at.

Its mouth, loaded with 4-inch (10cm) teeth, could open almost 80 degrees, wider than T. Rex and most other known predatory dinosaurs. However its bite was pretty modest for something its size--comparable to what a lion can deliver--so its widely believed that Allosaurus would swing its head downward with its mouth open like a battle axe to deliver more force in its killing blow.

There’s also the belief that Allosaurus hunted in packs to address larger prey like sauropods. In a behavior known as flesh-grazing, they would rip chunks out of large prey to get just enough food to get by, rather than risking life and limb trying to kill something several times its own size. We see similar behavior in cookie-cutter sharks when they attack whales.

But, as awesome as Allosaurus is, it still lives in the shadow of its bigger, nastier cousin: Saurophaganax Maximus, the “Lord of Lizard Eaters,” standing 13 feet (4 meters) tall and measuring 42 feet (13 meters) from snout to tail. Consider it the Jurassic’s T. Rex.

That’s it in dark red, compared to other Allosaurus specimens in bright red and green. You’ll notice its silhouette is virtually identical to the Allosaurus, and its bones are similar too, and some paleontologists would agree with you. In fact, there’s a lot of history surrounding the Saurophaganax genus as a whole.

For a while it was designated Allosaurus Maximus since the bones were so similar they could almost be classified under the same genus, like a lion and tiger (Panthera Leo and Panthera Tigris respectively). But experts were able to discern enough differences in comparable bones to make a strong enough case for Saurophaganax to stand as a unique genus, despite its similarity to Allosaurus. As of writing this, the greater scientific community recognizes them as two distinct genera; I personally hope they remain so, because Saurophaganax is such a cool name.

Now I want to shift gears and address another predator I mentioned.

Charcarodontosaurus, the Great White Shark Lizard, a giant with enormous jaws loaded with combat knives.

These beasts were among the largest terrestrial predators to ever walk the earth, measuring between 39 and 44 feet (12 - 13.3 meters) and weighing between 7 and 16 tons (approx. 6 - 15 metric tons). They belong to the same family as giants like Siats, and were widely agreed to be larger than T. Rex. However many paleontologists agree they weren’t quite as powerful as T. Rex, and theorize that they used different methods to kill their prey.

Here’s an image I found comparing the two which I hope better illustrates what I mean by that; on the left we have Carcharodontosaurus bones in gray, and on the right we have T. Rex in tan (with a human skeleton for funsies). Notice how much bulkier T. Rex’s bone structure is than Carcharodontosaurus’s, namely how much more massive its head is. T. Rex needs that gargantuan head to better deal with the ungodly forces its legendary bite subjects its jaws to. (unrelated, but I just read T. Rex holds the title for the longest teeth in the fossil record at twelve inches or 30cm, but that’s beside the point of this post)

Carcharodontosaurus’s jaws weren’t designed to deal with the stresses that struggling prey would subject them to, and if it bit its prey with the strength that T. Rex did, it would probably shatter its own skull. This is why paleontologists believe it adapted a bite-and-wait strategy when hunting; Carcharodontosaurus would sink its eight-inch (20cm) serrated teeth into its prey and carve out a huge chunk of meat, then stalk its victim as it bled out, eventually weakening to the point where Carcharodontosaurus could kill it without a struggle.

This is actually similar to how sharks hunt, excising huge chunks out of prey so they bleed to death and can be eaten without a fuss.

I didn’t write this to downplay how awesome T. Rex is, or to prove T. Rex’s superiority over other giant dinosaurs. I merely wrote this hoping that I was able to show you guys something new, and share my undying admiration for these amazing creatures that deserve our respect.

#science #dinosaurs #long post #allosaurus #saurophaganax #carcharodontosaurus #tw blood

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nocluewhatsupg · 3 years

Note

Also, bitch i will make you an Asa only blog, don't try me >:] Can i get a nice slasher on slasher action with Asa and his male slasher s/o? Not smut, but like... killer friends? Idk

📻 and ✨ believe in Asa supremacy. 🙅, the more sane mod of this blog, does not agree.

Here’s Y/N dying of dehydration that we wrote at 3 am then forgot about for a week.

Asa x Male!Slasher!Reader

God fought in your stomach, twisting and pulling delicate flesh. Bile rose in your throat, coating a dry mouth and stinging. At 5:54, you arose from the dirty mattress you slept on, pushing the ratty blanket off of your frozen body. Raising a scarred right hand, you grasp a cheap wooden table with the strength you still had, and pulled. Drilled into the floor, the table was a good counterweight as you fully rose from a would-be grave.

6:00 came and went. Your meal was nowhere to be seen. What did move, rustling from stagnant stillness and shaking dust, was a doll hung high on the ceiling. In one, beady black eye, the glint of a camera. As you stare on, you did not feel the horror surrounding you. Panic, however, drowned the god in your stomach with a mighty wave.

This was a test. You were being tested.

You ran a dirt-covered, blood-soaked hand through your disheveled hair in pure exhaustion. Your eyes flicked around the cell you were kept in, a much better fate than nailed to the wall or stuffed in a trunk. It was barren, with only your mattress and a table. Thick iron bars separated the room in half, half where you were trapped, and half for visitors to stare and marvel at the collection. There was nothing to hold, nothing to tear or burrow or slash. Control was slipping through your fingers, and you could feel it.

"Come on, man. We were friends, remember?" You call futilely to the void of a human watching you. "I-I scratched your back, you scratched mine?"

Using charm that dodged you death row, you spread your arms wide, opening yourself up like a bear trap and inviting him to pass the glimmering steel jaws. He did not fall for your friendly tricks. He could have you open and disarmed whenever he pleased.

The city was glorious. Under your booming voice and his silent sadism, the city trembled at your feet. It was only natural to join forces, to grow above a population so doltish it left its doors wide open to you. It was only natural to see you and him were a different breed to the simpletons you tormented, and you belonged together.

He didn't see as similar as you expected, or he simply didn't see it at all. The longer you spent clawing at your own skull inside a fabric laced box, earth shattering rage screaming in your head, you realized he was a different breed entirely to you. It wasn't about control to him. It was about collection. He never saw a partner, an opportunity like you'd spent your life chasing. He saw a curious specimen, and to your fury, something below him. The longer you thought about it, pacing around your cage, the more delusional he seemed.

Instead of the devil incarnate, he believed himself to be a god higher than the one that fought in your stomach. The ultimate higher being, while a dog of order, it was all for a higher cause.

You didn't have a job, and you couldn't keep the madness out of your eyes long enough to land one. It was always someone else that provoked you, and in your reason, if they left you alone it would've all been fine. He had a stable job, and the ability to leave and flit among the herd peacefully.

You, however, put your face in the blood, left caricatures pointing out your best features on the walls. You left mangled, torn survivors to scream of your terror in hospital beds as they died. You made yourself in the headlines, carving desperately your cursed name into the stone of history and praising yourself in human sacrifice.

He didn't even leave survivors. The press couldn't even come up with a funny name to dull the horror he created. Quick and impulsive, dealing little damage that built up as the week went on, versus his calm and planned, where his bi-monthly attacks were awful enough to trump all the work you've done in a year.

With a warm smile, you tasted sweet opportunity on your tongue, and charmed your way into his life. It used to be a monthly agreement, a collaboration to bring more pain to the city for no other reason than your entertainment. Then, the schedule and him along with it, changed to satisfy your voracious need for blood. Monthly became weekly, and you'd meet him in the cobweb covered basement of a local bar. On the knife-scratched oak table, he would display his week's work, blueprints and careful planning. He carried detail in every operation, and took twisted pride in discerning to you each step of the plan. It warmed your small, black heart how he showed you just how the night's activities would play out, just for your itchy trigger finger to ruin it all and force him to improvise.

While he wore his mask around the clock, you thought it looked nice in the dim lighting shady bar basements provided. You knew it looked better when it was covered in blood, multicolored LEDs bathing the dance floor in deep purples and blues, screaming mingling with pounding and high beat music. Impulse ran your very existence, somewhere around your first or second kill you realized it didn't matter what happened. We all die in the end, you either kill yourself or get killed. Not a second thought passed your mind after the first, solidified idea came, and you pressed in. The blood you'd smeared on your face as a makeshift mask smudged on his. Halfheartedly, he shoved an arm between the two of you, his slim knife catching on your shoulder. A survivor huddled in on herself as she pushed against the shadow darkened wall desperately, whimpering as she watched with eyes blown wide you pushing him back into the pool of blood on the floor. Someone important once said 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer', and you couldn't get closer than that.

You lick your lips, and no moisture transferred between. Time was running out. Pent up anger vibrated in your bones, and you begin to snap your fingers impatiently.

"Come on, I'm not asking for much. I'm sure there's a hell of a lot more people you've got who ask for more. All I want is some water. Simple thing." Most importantly, you did not plead. You bargained. "Just a little aqua, compadre."

He never was a fan of your quirky sort of humor, and even in the face of dehydration, you smiled the charming smile of a dysfunctional bear trap.

Every piece of furniture in the hotel, from pure hell to castle-like, was carefully chosen to not only appear luxurious. It struck fear, the sheer normality and absurdity both. He drummed his fingers on the table, entertainment in both glowing eyes as he watched you flail wildly, desperate to catch the camera’s eye. The dim room he sat in was illuminated by only the screens before him, buzzing with knowledge and control. Beside him, sitting on the uninteresting wooden table, a tall glass of water. Cold to the point sweat had begun rolling off the clear glass, fresh from a tap, and what you were dying for kept just out of reach.

An alarm cried, beckoning for his attention. He tilts his head to the sound, a warm expression on his face as he thinks.

You'll survive just a few more minutes.

#slasher #slashers #slasher community #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collector 2009 #the collection 2012

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dorevenge · 3 years

Text

where ignorance is bliss - chapter 1

SUMMARY: Maria Collins Carbonell is a young woman in a man's world, fresh out of college and ready to take on the '60s with Obadiah Stane on her arm, until she meets an older and mysterious Howard Stark - who's on his way to change the world, and he wants to take her with him. [AO3 LINK] Rated Teen

CHAPTERS: [1] 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

PAIRINGS: Maria/Howard, Maria/Obadiah, Peggy/Daniel, Edwin/Ana, Carol/Maria

… Where ignorance is bliss,

Tis folly to be wise

– Thomas Gray, 1742

If you ever met Howard Stark, you only knew half of the man.

He was lauded as a genius, a gamechanger in every field, a philanthropist for tomorrow, the best of humankind – yet he managed to be the worst of it at the same time.

I met him at a casino in ‘60, charmed and overpowered after losing millions for the thrill of it, and we married shortly after. It was the beginning of the last twenty years of my life.

September 17, 1959 – Queens, New York City

“Obie, dear, we’re going to be late.”

“Darling, it’s check in four. Entertain me for just a few more minutes.”

“Chess minutes are longer than normal minutes, and being late in normal minutes makes Giulietta mad.” My eyes flash across the board, and the moves come to me. Hovering my fingers above the pieces, “I move my rook here, you’ll be forced to move this pawn, then my bishop here… Check in two, love, let’s go.”

I check in the mirror that every blonde hair is where it’s meant to be and adjust the pearls around my neck. Obadiah always wanted me to look good – not too good that other men would chase me, but enough that they would look at him because he was standing next to me. “They’ll look at the beautiful dame, then the businessman who’s arm she’s on, then ask to invest in his company just for a chance to be near her longer.” I wasn’t convinced that his plan worked.

Obadiah and I have been together for seven months at this point, long enough to grow tired of his perpetual tardiness, but not long enough for us to be seen leaving the same hotel room together. We slept in separate beds last night, of course; Obie is a man of high morals but tight checkbooks.

Purse hanging from the crook of my elbow, I call out over my shoulder, “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He hums in response, still curled over the chessboard trying to figure out where he went wrong. I close the door behind me.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Obie says, coming in from the elevator, fiddling with the cufflinks he bought just for the occasion – more than he could afford, he’ll probably return them at the end of the trip – the light from the chandelier above reflecting on his scalp. We leave the lobby to wait outside.

“Stop fretting. Your presentation will be flawless.” I straighten his tie as the taxi slides to a stop outside the hotel doors.

“I don’t want to let Howard down. Everything is riding on this.”

“I know, Obie, I know.”

I talk with the wives of the other businessmen in a corner, while they over-sip on over-sweet drinks. Obie didn’t send me to spy, but it’s hard not to notice when their loose lips spill secrets not meant to leave the boardroom, and surprises meant to wait for the expo. The first day of the event was reserved for socialization, for inventors and investors to shake hands, tease each other about what they might be presenting and prod for any information they can get. The women are undermined, seen and not heard, but always listening. Always listening.

This was my second Stark Expo; last year I attended as an intern at the Future Foundation, frequently dismissed as a secretary or spouse before I got the chance to share that I was about to graduate from Columbia Business School with Honors. I was put into a box before I opened my mouth. The fifties are a terrible time to be a smart woman.

Tired of the gossiping, tipsy wives, I leave to find Obie. He was almost always easy to find, taller and broader than most of the scholars who have never known a hard day of work in their life, and his bald head shines like a lighthouse. Unsuccessful, I wander off alone.

A waiter hands me a martini, and I find myself in front of the exhibit dedicated to Captain Steve Rogers. It was the same every year; there’s no new information about the man since he crash-landed in the Atlantic, but the fanfare and mythos around him has only increased. The shield and empty suit sat behind a wall of thick glass, carefully preserved by the curator, who was a close friend of the Captain. Several pictures of him decorate the exhibit. Tall, blonde, steel blue eyes. He was handsome, with wide shoulders and an even wider jaw. The perfect American specimen.

I stand in front of the suit, the reflection of my head barely coming up to its sternum, imagining how differently the war might have ended had he survived. A silhouette joins from my right and makes me jump, my senses a little dulled from the drink. I turn around.

“Peggy!”

The brunette Englishwoman takes me in her arms, and I breathe in her perfume. I had met her at last year’s expo when she tried to convince me to learn some self-defense, promising it wouldn’t make me too muscular and unfeminine.

We let each other go, and I notice her cast a sad glance at the exhibit before looking back to me. “Maria, how are you? Are you still working for the Future Foundation?” She looks perfect, as always, with her signature red lipstick.

“I’m well. I graduated from the internship and am working elsewhere. I’m here with a man.” Her eyes widen curiously as I continued. “He’s presenting an invention on Saturday.”

“Is it serious?”

“It’s… Comfortable.”

“If you need some excitement, my offer from last year still stands,” she offers. I smile at her politely, looking down at my shoes. I don’t think I was meant to be a secret agent.

“Maria, there you are! I have someone I want you to meet.” Obadiah blunders into the exhibit, a drink in his hand, and it is clearly not his first. He places a large hand on my shoulder and turns around to point back into the party. “Oh, I don’t know where he went. Howard was just here.”

“He’s probably off in a corner with some blonde,” Peggy smiles. “I need to speak with him, I’ll send him your way once I find him.”

She leaves, and once she’s out of eyesight, Obie’s hand slips from my shoulder to my waist. The forwardness brings me out of the martini-induced hazed, and I stand straight up. I move his hand for him.

“Sorry, Mar,” his breath reeking of alcohol, releasing me. “I’ll find something to eat, get something to soak it all up. I’ll need to stay sharp tonight.” He kisses me on the cheek, and I’m alone again, the swell of music and murmur of guests in the background.

Obadiah’s presentation went smoothly, but not as fantastical as he had hoped. The inventor before him showed something very similar, and the crowd was unenthusiastic and less receptive. Some investors bit at the bait, handshakes and promises were exchanged – but no money, which is what Obie desperately needs to continue this charade of a rich man. He came from very little, but he is very good at multiplying anything that crosses his path, a paradigm of the American legend. I do not know much of Obie’s past, but I do know it is grim enough to make him cry in his sleep some nights. Maybe I should invest in gasoline, he would ponder, or some new kind of energy. I need to create a legacy.

His legacy. We talked more of his legacy than anything else, more than chess moves or what to have for dinner or even the weather. His legacy. And he was positive his legacy would start with the two of us, flowing from our descendants, a watershed to admire for decades to come. While he hasn’t asked my father for my hand, he has dropped more than enough hints about his intentions, and I dodge every one of them best I can. He was 29 – six years older than me – and it was time he started a family by society’s expectations. I just wasn’t sure I that wanted to participate.

He lives in a tiny apartment in the Bronx – an apartment, not a house – and invests every penny he earns back into his machines. My father, a realtor, tried to convince him into investing into some real estate in the Upper East Side, but Obadiah gently refused his help, believing the only way to make in this world is to make it on your own.

I am asleep by the time he returns from the second day of the expo, and his entrance wakes me in a start. I had retired early, not wishing to entertain the drunken wives any longer.

“That bastard,” Obie trails off, locking the hotel door behind him and setting the key on the dresser. He sits on the second bed in the room and collapses into a sunken posture, his head falling heavily into his hands.

I slip out from under my covers and sit next to him. I run my hand up and down his back, trying to bring comfort to the defeated man. He would never tell me what had occurred that day, no matter how many times or ways I tried to ask, only the aftermath and resentment that followed, and it is my duty to pick up the pieces.

“God strike me down if I ever willingly enter business with a Stark,” he finally sighs into his hands. “That man is the worst of them all, a piranha and a coward. I told him my next great idea, and not five minutes later I hear him pitching it to an adoring crowd like it was his own. The rich get richer, and I’m still at the bottom. Hold me to it, Mar, if I ever shake his hand, it better be when I’m buying his company out from under him.”

“Yes, dear.”

#where ignorance is bliss #wiib reading #marvel #howard stark #what if #fanfiction #canary writes a fanfiction

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jwslw · 3 years

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An idea for semi-realistic monsters

I’m probably not the first person to think of something like this, but here is my take on a Cockatrice and Wyvern like creatures that evolved from raptors.

Cockatrice and Wyverns

Overview

An odd evolutionary offshoot of the Dromaeosauridae (raptor) family, The Wyvern and Cockatrice are unusual ambush predators, that can produce and spit venom for hunting. Like most other Dromaeosauridae, the Cockatrice and Wyvren have three fingers on each hand, the first and second finger on each hand is surprisingly dexterous and used by the creature to help it climb, the third finger on each hand is elongated, and properly part of the creature's wing structure. Cockatrice and Wyvren are also digitigrade bipeds with a large sickle shaped claw on each foot that can be used to slash or anchor them to larger prey items. At first glance, Cockatrice and Wyvrens do not look that different from modern reconstructions of raptor type dinosaurs, including a large plume/fan of feathers at the tip of the tail. Unlike other raptors, Cockatrice and Wyvrens do not have normal toothy mouths, instead they have heavy beaks, similar in structure to, but not as robust as, the beaks of the Phorusrhacidae (terror birds), a large bright red wattle-like venom sac immediately behind their lower jaws, and a double row of serrated ridges running down either side of the tail starting half way down the tail's length and terminating just ahead of the fan. Because of the rigid nature of their tails, a Cockatrice or Wyvren can employ their tail ridges in combat, but only to a limited degree, employing them as a defense against pursuing enemies, or occasionally, to injure larger prey in hit and run attacks. Cockatrice and Wyvren are not true fliers, but, they glide quite well, with most studies estimating that both species possess a 6 to 1 glide ratio.

Cockatrice and Wyverns mostly live in temperate to sub-tropical regions, Cockatrice prefer to live in forested foothill regions, while Wyvrens live in more mountainous regions or wide open plains. Both species prefer to nest in caves or structures such as barns and basements were they have ready access to food.

History

The origin of the Cockatrice and Wyvern is not yet completely understood, some researchers have assigned them the speculative genus expuens accipiter, (spitting hawk in Latin) within the family Dromaeosauridae to the creatures and assigned them the species names Africanus (Wyvern) and Pacifica (Cockatrice). These names and placing are not accepted by all researchers, with some arguing the creatures simply stem from the same common ancestor as Dromaeosauridae and modern avians. Fragmentary fossil evidence suggests that the oldest ancestors of the modern species evolved in Cretaceous south-west Asia some 78mya. It is still not clear to researchers how the creature's survived the KT extinction event. Researchers are confident however that the two modern lineages, first diverged at the start of the Pleistocene glaciation beginning 2.58mya, with the ancestors of the ea. Africanus (Wyvern), being confined to Africa, while ea. Pacifica (Cockatrice) were confined to the islands of the South Pacific, with their modern forms moving into the Eurasia as the glaciers receded.

In recent times researchers have proposed the existence of three additional species the North American ea. Leedsdiablos (the Jersey Devil), the semi aqutic ea. Amazonas (the Brazillian Boiúna serpent) of South America, and the ea. Oceanis (the Poukai bird of Maori folklore) said to be native to New Zealand and Australia. These claims are however, dismissed out of hand by most researchers, with alleged sightings put down to hoaxes, miss-identification or illegally imported specimens.

Cockatrice

Physical traits

Cockatrice are the smaller, and more social, of the two species. A typical Cockatrices 91-122cm (3-4ft) long from beak tip to tail tip, stands 56-61cm (22-24in) tall at the shoulder, with a tip-to-tip wingspan of 3-3.1meters (roughly 10ft), and weigh 20-28kg (45-60lb), like birds, female Cockatrice are larger than males. Cockatrice have predominately off-white, yellow, or brown feathers, males have dark green, red or blue feathers on their heads and tails for mating display, both male and female cockatrice have brightly colored red, green and blue feathers concealed within their breast and wing feathers for threat displays. Cockatrice produce a potent neurotoxin that can paralyze their prey, that the cockatrice can project upto 4 to 5 meters (approximately 15feet), or inject it directly into the target through a pair of hypodermic fangs near the tip of the creature's beak. A Cockatrice's neurotoxin is designed to cause a victim's joints to seize up, a creature that has been effected by Cockatrice venom will be unable to move for upto, 144 hours (six days). The venom will not absorb through normal epidermal tissue, as such, a Cockatrice will aim for a creature's face, attempting to contaminate the soft tissue of the creature's eyes, mouth or nostrils. The common hunting strategy for a Cockatrice is to climb on to an elevated position, such as a small ledge or particularly thick tree branch to attack its intended prey, first by spitting on it and secondly by leaping onto the target, leading with its heavy foot talons. Cockatrice have powerful legs it can sprint at upto 75kph (55mph) for three minutes, and can leap 7-8meters (roughly 25ft) from a standing start at ground level. A Cockatrice will reach full maturity in three years and can survive upto 20 years in captivity, but, most live only 10 to 15 years in the wild.

Society and Child rearing

While not true pack hunters, as many as 15 mated pairs of Cockatrice can be found living in a single cave or building. Cockatrice mate for life and eggs are lain in clutches of 4 to 6. Breeding season lasts from late spring to early summer and fertilized eggs take 8 weeks to hatch. During this time, the mother will stay with the nest while the father hunts for food to bring back, and will continue to hunt while the mother guards the young for the first 4 weeks after they hatch. At a round 7 weeks old, Cockatrices chicks will begin to accompany their parents on hunting trips. A Cockatrice couple will chase away a current clutch of young when the mother begins to brood again, typically one year after their hatching. While they are unnervingly quiet when hunting, Cockatrice are boisterous creatures when at rest or threatened, with a wide range of calls, similar to sounds made by both predatory and non-predatory birds.

Diet

Cockatrice are obligate carnivores, while they mostly stick to animals they can quickly dispatch and consume whole, such as small rodents, lizards or birds, they can, thanks to their neurotoxin, bring down prey considerably larger than themselves, while their mate is tending to their young, males will frequently pursue goats, beaver and other similar sized animals to bring back to the nest. While single and mated pairs of Cockatrice will usually attempt to drive away other Cockatrice that come to close to their kills, a strange behavior can be observed when a single or mated pair brings down a particularly large prey item such as a cow or elk. When this happens, the successful Cockatrice will begin making a peculiar high pitched wailing, this wail can be heard out to a range of 4-5km (roughly 3 miles) and will draw in other Cockatrice, which will be allowed to share the catch with them. When consuming large prey, Cockatrice have a “puncture and pull” feeding method, and can not crack bone, though, they can digest the bones of smaller animals when consumed whole. To maintain ideal health, a Cockatrice must consume at least its own body weight each week.

Wyvern

Physical Traits

Wyvern are larger and much less social than their smaller cousins. A typical specimen stands 1.8-2 meters (6 to 7 feet) tall at the shoulder, measure 4.5-6.1 meters (15-20feet) long from beak to tail tip, a tip to tip wingspan of 9-10 meters (roughly 30ft) and a weight of 272-296 kg (600-650lb). Like most varieties of bird, female Wyverns are larger than their male counterparts. Wyvern feathers are a mixture of dark gray, rust red, and dull brown, giving the creatures a surprising degree of camouflage in their preferred habitat. Unlike the Cockatrice, Wyvern do not have fangs and do not produce neurotoxin, instead, they produce a potent molecular acid that can cause serious damage to any organic matter it comes into contact with, including sedimentary rock, and is capable of scouring flesh down to the bone on unprotected humans or similar creatures and can even inflicting third degree burns to animals like hippopotamus and rhinoceros, or humans wearing thick winter clothing. When stored in the venom sac, and when initially projected from the Wyvern's mouth, the acid is coated in mucus that prevents it from injuring the Wyvern producing it, the mucus will quickly dissolve once exposed to the air, once this happens the Wyvern is just as vulnerable to the acid as any other creature. The venom sac of a typical adult Wyvern can produce enough venom to cover a 45 to 50 cm² (17-20 in²) area, an adult Wyvren can project acid upto 10-11 meters (roughly 30 to 35 feet). Once a Wyvern has “spit” acid, it takes roughly 85-90 seconds for it to produce enough acid to do so again. Wyvren acid is however virtually ineffective against most refined metals and modern ceramics such as ones used in the production of bullet proof armors. A Wyvern is fast, capable of running upto 68kph (45mph) for upto 3 minutes and can cover a distance of 10 meters (30ft) when jumping from a standing start at ground level. When hunting a Wyvern will spit acid to cripple prey before leaping on to the prey to disembowel it with their talons. A Wyvren reaches full maturity at six years old and can survive for upto 50 years.

Society and Child rearing

Wyvern are mostly solitary creatures, though they do mate for life and will occasionally tolerate Cockatrice or other small predatory animals sharing their hunting ranges. Wyvern breeding season usually begins in late winter and lasts till early spring. After mating a female Wyvern will lay one or two eggs and incubate them for the next twelve weeks. During the entire incubation process and for the first three months after the Wyvern chicks hatch, the mother remains at the nesting site while the father hunts. At two years old, the chick(s) will begin accompanying their parents on hunts. For the first four years after the chick(s) have hatched, the mother Wyvern's body will produce hormones to suppress her reproductive cycle, however, after this period, hormone production ends and the mother will begin brooding again at the start of the next breeding season, at which point she will chase away her adolescent child(ren) as a potential threat to her future chick(s).

Diet

Wyvern are obligate carnivores, when tending chicks that are to young to leave the nest, Wyverns will content themselves with small game that can easily be carried to the den, like goats, gazelle, sheep or young deer. When not tending to young or when the young are old enough to accompany their parents on hunts, Wyvern hunt large game, like cattle, adult deer, and in some cases, even giraffe or hippopotamus, while a Wyvern's beak and jaw muscles are not quite strong enough to bite through bone, they are strong enough to severe the cartilage, allowing them to bite off arms and legs to swallow whole. Wyvern living near rural communities are especially found of domesticated pigs and donkeys. To maintain proper health, a Wyvern must consume roughly twice its body weight each week.

The Boiúna serpent (Speculative)

While still regarded as a hoax or miss-identification of an existing animal by most researchers, a great deal of eyewitness testimony has been gathered on the hypothetical ea. Amazonas has been collected and presented here.

Physical traits

In most regards a Boiúna serpent is reported in one of two ways, either being similar in size to its Cockatrice cousins or to Wyverns, however, their wingspan is described as only 1.5 to 2.2 meters (4-7.5ft) from tip to tip when reported as being Cockatrice sized or 5-6 meters (16-20ft) when reported as Wyvren sized, however, its wing feathers are much longer and seemingly employed to create shade for attracting fish. The legs of a Boiúna are usually described as longer and thinner than either of its two recognized cousins, with less pronounced cutting claws. The beak of a Boiúna serpent is described as being more like the beak of a Cormorant, long and thin with a sharp hook at the end for catching and holding fish. The feathers covering most of a Boiúna serpent are said to be mostly blue-black or purple-black, with a smaller tuft pale gray feathers on their chest and necks, the beak and leg scales are usually a dark brown color. On the matter of their venom, accounts seem to be largely split between two camps. While all accounts say that the Boiúna serpent lacks teeth, and therefore can not inject venom, roughly half of all reported encounters claim that they possess a weakened version of the neurotoxin produced by a Cockatrice, with the effects wearing off in a matter of hours or after only a day or two, while other sources claim that the Boiúna serpent produces not venom, but, a strong natural adhesive that can pin potential threats in place allowing them to escape or bring down the target, Boiúna serpent venom is believed to have the same range as Cockatrice venom when “spit”. It is not known for certain, but, most researchers that believe in the Boiúna serpent, think it is slower than other relate species estimating their top speed at around 59-60kph (40mph).

Society and Child Rearing

Boiúna, do not seem to be sociable creatures, traveling alone or mated pairs. As most researchers believe young have never been observed, arguing that the Boiúna may experience indeterminate growth, it is believed that they are kept sheltered for much longer than with other species of expuens accipiter. However, in recent years, an alternate theory has emerged, suggesting that reports of smaller Boiúna are actually of young/immature members of the species and that the larger adults actually practice significantly less parental care than their cousins.

Diet

Unsurprisingly, the primary diet of the Boiúna serpent is believed to be fish and small reptiles. Boiúna serpents are also speculated to raid the nests of other birds as well as caiman and other reptiles. Some witnesses report seeing Boiúna serpent kick snakes to death in a manner similar to Sagittarius serpentarius (Secretary birds). Others have claimed to witness them feeding on large animals such a Tapir and Pudu deer. If the latter stories are true, it is not known if they actively brought down the animal in question, or merely used threat displays to chase off the animal that actually brought it down.

#monsters #speculative evolution #speculative biology #speculative zoology #creative writing #fiction

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saxxxology · 5 years

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What Goes Bump in the Night - 6

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, Victorian social dynamics, allusions to non-consent and dubious consent, dominance/submission, slow burn with eventual smut, suspense/horror/gore themes.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITES.

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You don’t know how long it takes you to wake. When you do, the storm is still raging on, but you’re back in bed, lying on top of the covers. Sam’s sitting on the edge, his jaw set. When he sees you moving, he glances down at you.

“Welcome back.” His voice is tight. He’s upset. “You’ve been out for a few hours, I was able to put you on the couch while I finished working.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I know I broke the rules.”

Sam stands up, looking down at you. “You might be sorry, but you know what happens now, Omega.” He goes to the top drawer of the dresser and pulls out a long leather strap, which he folds in two.

A belt.

Your stomach rolls with fear, and you cower back against the headboard. “No,” you whimper, “no, please, don’t…”

“You broke the most important rule I set for you,” Sam says firmly, slowly approaching the bed, “you could have waited at the top of the stairs and called for me, or simply stayed here and waited for me to come back. But you went into the basement, where I’ve told you time and time again, never to go for your own safety. You need to know that you can’t break the rules, Omega, and this time you won’t be getting pleasure from it.”

He lunges. You scream, kicking out as he wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you back until you’re bent over the edge of the bed. You don’t submit to it; if it was Sam’s bare hand you’d be getting, you would take the pain, but a leather strap can draw blood if used hard enough.

You struggle against his grip and manage to roll over, fighting him with every ounce of your strength. “I swear I won’t do it again!” you sob, “please, don’t, Sam, please!” Sam grunts as you wiggle free and duck under his arm, making for the door, His hand catches your hair, twisting in the thick locks, and you go limp, falling to the floor with a loud squeal of pain.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” you whimper, digging your fingers into the legs of his slacks, “please, I’ll do anything, you can—you can take me, if you want, you can use me, Alpha—!”

Sam grimaces as you look up at him, face stained with tears. Your eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, lips quivering. The man in him knows he should punish you for your wrongdoing, wants to see your ass red and bruised from his lashing, but his Alpha is telling him to comfort you, that he’s doing wrong. All you’ve done is look for him in a time of desperation.

“God damn it.” He gives in to instinct, throwing the leather strap down to the floor before he collapses onto his knees. You fall into his arms, sobbing wildly, and he hugs you tight, feeling your body shake violently against his chest. “Shhh,” he whispers, “it’s all right, Omega, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You clutch his shirt, burying your face in his chest as he lifts you up, sitting on the bed and gently rocking you back and forth. “I won’t do it ag-again,” you sob, tearfully looking up at him. “I p-promise, I won’t go down there again.”

“Good.” Sam brushes your hair from your face and watches you take a shaky gulp of air. “But you know that if you do that again, I will have to punish you.”

You nod. “I won’t. I won’t break any more rules, Alpha, I swear.”

Sam cups your jaw. “What do you swear on?”

He watches as you let out another short sob before speaking again. “My maidenhead,” you answer. “I swear on my maidenhead that I won’t disobey again.”

Sam nods, acknowledging your apology and vow. He says and does nothing, only holds you until you’ve stopped crying.

***

You wake tucked underneath Sam’s arm, as usual. It’s normal at this point to wake up cuddled together, and he shifts when you stretch, grunting in his sleep as he rolls onto his back, remaining fast asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake him, you slip out of bed and quietly pour a cup of tea that’s gone cold since it was made. You haven’t slept very well, and you quickly give up on the thought of trying for a little more.

It’s stopped raining, and the sun peeks through the clouds, shining down in soft yellow rays. The sight pulls your thoughts from the events of the night before, of Sam holding a thick leather strap, or the flayed open thing on the table in the basement. You shudder at the memory of Sam pulling the gore-encrusted organ from inside the chest of the beast and retreat to the bathroom to splash water on your face. Your eyes are still puffy and red from your mindless crying the night before.

Sam’s sitting up, stretching his powerful arms over his head when you come out. His eyes flicker to your face, and he sighs at the dark circles under your eyes. It’s pointless to ask if you’ve slept well, so he settles for a stiff “g’morning” before getting out of bed and walking past you to the bathroom.

Breakfast passes silently. Dean’s nowhere to be found, so you and Sam make do with cooking bacon, sausages, and eggs for yourselves. After eating, you pop the question that’s been on your mind all night and all morning.

“What was that thing you were…?” you motion with your finger, lost for a descriptor.

Sam catches your meaning and swallows a mouthful of coffee. “It was a hominid species native to parts of Africa. They’re called Anthropophagi, one of our acquaintances in Massachusetts just killed a pack of almost thirty. One specimen was fairly preserved, so she was sent to us.”

You swallow thickly. “Are there… are there other things out there?”

Sam nods shortly. “Vampires… werewolves, some things you’ve probably never heard of. If there’s a legend about it, it exists, or existed at one point in time. I didn’t want you to find out about what I really do because I didn’t want you knowing what’s out there.”

“Well…” you look down at your plate, “I know now… so what happens?”

Sam exhales, standing up and sweeping the empty dish from in front of you. “You learn. We have books that you can read, but you don’t go in the basement.” He says the last bit with a smile, as if he knows that you’ve learned your lesson without needing a punishment. “Understand?”

You bob your head slowly up and down. “Yes.”

Sam smiles down at you. “Good girl.”

***

A month after you discover the Winchester family secret, John returns from Boston. It’s been a rough time, and he’s not pleased to find out that you’re still unclaimed. Sam bears the brunt of his father’s anger, and you stay out of his way until he’s rested and in a better mood.

To celebrate the successful completion of the near extinction of vampires in almost all of Massachusetts, the Winchesters throw a dinner party. Every hunter within a three-hundred-mile radius (only about ten in all) is invited, and the morning of the dinner, Sam goes into town with firm instructions for you to bathe, wash your hair, and set your hair in braids to dry. When he returns, you’re sitting on the bed, filing your nails. He’s carrying a large white dress bag and doesn’t try to hide the smile on his face. It’s strange seeing him this happy.

“What is that?” You watch him hand the bag up on the door of the closet.

“Come here.” Sam beckons you over and makes you stand in front of him. “Cover your eyes.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Why?”

“Just do it,” he says. He waits for you to have your palms over your eyes before stepping away. You hear the hiss of the heavy zipper, and then the rustle of fabric. Sam places his hands on your shoulders, turning you slightly, and you grin behind your hands. “Open.”

You lower your fingers and instantly cover your mouth. The most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen in your life is laid out on the bed. The white skirt is puffy with chiffon and satin. The neckline falls low over the shoulder, and the short sleeves are puffy and trimmed with gold lace.

“Oh, Sam…” you run your fingers over the lace and delicate embroidery. “It’s so beautiful… where did you find this?”

“I had it made.” Sam smiles and runs a palm over the fabric. “It’s one of a kind, just for you.”

You sniff. “I thought I’d be wearing my usual dress for dinner.”

“That?” Sam casts an eye at the simple frock draped over the back of a chair. “No. You’ve been good, and tonight is one of few nights I might get to show you off for my colleagues. Not very many of them get to see a beautiful woman as often as I do.”

You turn to look up at him. He’s never called you beautiful before; Sam’s terms of endearment normally range on the more sexually vulgar side. “Beautiful?”

Sam nods. “Since you’ve been putting on weight,” he squeezes your sides and wiggles his fingers, “you have become quite the figure, ‘mega.”

***

That night, you and Sam finish setting the dining table and hurry upstairs to dress. You help him with his bow tie (something you’ve become used to) and straighten his jacket. In turn, he helps you into the brand new dress, tying the thick ribbon in back until the corset is cinched neatly around your waist while you fix your hair in the mirror.

“Well,” he says, once you’ve done a full spin for him to survey the look, “you look like a million dollars.”

Your cheeks burn. “It’s just the dress.”

Sam chuckles and holds out his hand. “Come on. I can hear everyone downstairs.”

He leads you down the steps, and the moment you’re visible, every head turns. Dean and John are mingling with the guests, and you see John raise an eyebrow as Sam loops an arm around your waist, a silent display of his ownership. Many of the men are Beta, but you catch the scents of a few Alphas, one of whom stands in the back, beady eyes fixed on you over a chalice of wine.

“Gentlemen,” Sam begins, “may I introduce my Omega, Y/N.”

You offer a practiced curtsy, keeping your eyes averted from theirs, and then Sam leads the way into the dining room, you by his side. You take your normal places at the table while the others situate themselves in the first available place. The men tell stories of the monsters they’ve hunted, ranging from a pack of vampires that a hunter named Gordon tracked across seven states, to a family of Djinn that had been working in the ghettos of Philadelphia several months earlier.

The conversation turns to you soon after.

“So,” a man named Gabriel begins, “when did you acquire an Omega, Sam? We all thought you were abstinent for life.”

Sam chuckles and wipes the corner of his mouth. “Crowley’s place. He was auctioning off almost twenty girls, she was up for cheap.”

“How much did you pay for her?”

Sam answers shortly. He hates discussing his finances. “One-fifty.”

Several hunters whistle and exchange glances. Gabriel leans forward, swirling wine in his glass. “She worth it?”

Sam clears his throat, not looking at you. “We, um…”

“Oh, come on!” Gabriel pounds a fist on the table as the other men chortle with laughter. “How on earth can you not have claimed her yet?”

Sam makes a deliberate effort to change the subject. When he mentions the Anthropophagi, several men inhale with surprise, instantly captured by the gravity of the new topic.

“I thought they were native to Africa,” another hunter, Castiel, says, “how did they end up in America?”

Sam shakes his head. “Long story. Had to do with one of ours in New Jerusalem back in March. He wouldn’t give us the full story, but I suspect his father had something to do with it.”

You clear your throat softly as the men begin a conversation about how the monsters could have migrated to America. The presence of so many men is overwhelming, and you know that Sam won’t be upset if you need to take a break.

“Sam?” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “can I go upstairs for a few minutes? Please?”

He hears the slight desperation in your voice and nods his consent. You politely excuse yourself to no one in particular and leave the room, lifting the skirt of your dress so that you don’t trip on the stairs. Back in the bedroom, you sit down on the edge of the bed and heave a deep sigh, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands to try and push back the tears that threatened to appear.

After several minutes of silence, the door creaks open, and you raise your head.

The man who’s entered is tall, close to Sam’s size, with sandy blonde hair and dark eyes that glitter maliciously. It’s Nick, the same Alpha who’s been watching you all evening, and you feel your chest tighten as fear shoots through you.

“What are you doing in here?” you ask, trying to sound braver than you feel, “Sam won’t be happy that you—”

“He’s busy.” He smirks wickedly. “Thought I’d let myself have a taste of the goods… almost in heat, I can smell it.”

You stiffen as he steps closer. “Please don't touch me, Sam’s going to be upset.”

“Sam doesn’t give a damn who does what with you, apparently.” Nick glances at your neck. “An Omega’s no good without an Alpha making use of her. And if Sam’s not marked you yet, he’s leaving you open for anyone to take. There’s four other Alphas downstairs who’re thinkin’ the exact same as me, except I actually act on my intentions.”

You pull away, trying to scramble back across the bed, but Nick’s bigger and faster. He grabs you, pulling you back until your hips are on the edge of the bed. You cry out, and he reaches up to press a hand over your mouth.

“Shut up,” he snarls, “this is what you’re made for.”

He pushes the skirts of your dress up and shoves a hand between your legs. You try and close them, but only succeed in squeezing his hips with your knees as you try to fight him off. Your instinct to escape unharmed takes over, and you bite down on his palm, tasting his blood on your hand. He yells, pulling his hand away.

The sharp smack of Nick’s other palm across your cheek sends you reeling to the side, and he takes advantage of your shock to grab a fistful of your hair and drag you down to the floor, one hand wrapped around your throat to cut off your airway. He yanks the skirts of your dress up, working your thighs apart with his knees, and you reach up, trying to scratch at his face as you choke and gasp for air.

“Gonna do what Sam doesn’t have the balls to do,” Nick growls, “show him how a real Alpha’s supposed to treat his bitch.”

You twist your body hard enough to make a seam on the corset split, and the moment Nick’s fingers slip from your throat, you let out the loudest, most bloodcurdling scream you can make in an effort to let Sam, or anyone else who might be within earshot, know that you’re in trouble.

“I told you to shut up!” Nick strikes you again on the same cheek, and your head smacks against the carpet with the force of it. He rips your bloomers down the middle and tugs his belt open, reaching down to free his cock. He leans over you, a tight smirk on his face as you struggle against the arm he braces across your shoulders.

The door crashes open with a loud BANG! Sam races in, his cheeks red, eyes burning with fury. Nick jerks in surprise, and whatever excuse he’s got catches in his throat.

“Get off of her!” Sam grabs him by the collar and drags him off of you, slamming him up against the wall before landing a solid punch across the side of his face. Nick tries to get a kick in, but Sam’s too fast. He delivers another solid slam of his fist against the other Alpha’s temple and shoves him out into the hallway. You hear the fight progress, slowly moving down the hall until there’s a loud yell, a grunt from Sam, and the sound of something heavy falling down the stairs.

Moments later, Sam returns, his chest heaving. His jacket is rumpled, and one sleeve is torn from the shoulder. He’s got a bloody lip, but he pays it no heed as he lifts you off the floor and sets you on the bed.

“Oh, God,” he clutches you to his chest, and you can feel his hands shaking as he gently cups your face. You dissolve into tears, unable to find the strength to make a sound as Sam examines the reddened mark on your cheek. He stares down into your face as your eyes go wide.

“C’can’t breathe,” you stammer, “Sam, I can’t—”

“I know.” Sam reaches around and undoes the bow on your dress, quickly pulling the ribbons free. He lifts you up to drag the bodice down and over your hips. He leaves the dress in a pile on the floor, leaving you half-naked on the bed. You feel cold, and it’s hard to breathe.

“Shh,” he soothes you, gripping your hands and bringing your fingers to his lips. “You’re in shock, you need to stay warm.” He pulls the comforter up and tucks it around your shoulders, waiting for you to stop shaking enough to step back.

“Wait here,” he murmurs, “if you need me, call for me and I’ll be right here.”

“Where are you g-going?” You pull the thick covers around to hide your bare torso.

Sam heaves a sigh and rolls his shoulders back. “Nick’s dead. We need to dispose of the body.”

***

It takes Sam nearly two hours to come back. When he does, you’re still sitting in the same place, eyes fixed on the floor where you’d been pinned down. He snaps his fingers, effectively pulling you from your trance, but his words and gestures are soft.

“What did you do?” you ask, your voice scratchy.

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t need to worry about that. Everyone’s gone, save my brother and father.” He gently cups your head, tilting your neck back so he can examine your neck. “Some light bruising… does your throat hurt?”

You nod. “Only when I swallow.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, but his touch remains soft. “The bruises should heal in a couple of days. I’ll make some honey and chamomile tea for your throat.” He turns your face towards the light and grimaces at the bruise on your cheek. “Christ…”

“It’s not that bad,” you lie.

“Y/N, he was a large man, he could have easily killed you,” Sam says firmly. “I’ll bring you some ice for this as well… do you think you can handle a bath?” When you nod, he retreats to the bathroom. You hear the squeak of the taps and water gushing into the tub, and then Sam’s coming back and helping you into the bathroom. You’re slightly unsteady on your legs, and he helps you finish undressing (he murmurs something about burning your bloomers) before lowering you into the warm water.

“I’ll be back with your things,” he whispers, and then he’s gone, leaving the bathroom door open. You focus on the sound of the water pouring out of the faucet and into the steadily filling basin, trying to make yourself weightless as the tub fills enough to allow you to float.

Sam returns after several minutes. You hear the soft click of the door closing and sit up, heart thundering in your chest. He steps into the bathroom, rolling up his sleeves as he pulls up a stool to sit beside the tub. Wordlessly, he reaches for the bar of soap and lathers his hands, gently rubbing the suds over your back and shoulders. You spend the better part of an hour bathing, and it’s only when your fingers turn pruny that he helps you stand and dries you off.

He carries you back to the bed, tucking you in and stripping down to his linen underpants before climbing in beside you. He offers you a bag of ice, which you hold to your cheek with a wince as he lifts a cup of tea to your lips, making you drink the hot liquid until half of it’s gone. The honey soothes your throat, and the sweet chamomile gives you something to focus on rather than the pain of the ice against your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers,“I should have kept an eye out, or kept you close.”

You close your eyes, wishing you could just give in to the exhaustion and melt into the warm heat of his body. “It’s not your fault… but why did you kill him?”

Sam grits his teeth. “I saw him on top of you, about to… about to take you, and I just lost control. I just remember dragging him off of you and the next thing I knew he was lying at the bottom of the stairs.” He sighs heavily. “I never wished anything like that to happen to you, I swear it. I’ve seen what that can do to a woman.”

You tip your head back on his shoulder and let him squeeze your hand. “I’ll heal.”

“I know you will, but…” he darts his tongue over his lower lip. “You are going into heat. I estimate only a few days before…”

You shiver. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sam nods and rests his chin on the top of your head. “Would you like me to get your nightdress? You’re shivering.”

You let him stand, fetching your gown from the closet. He helps you dress and slides underneath the covers, turning you onto your side so he can lie protectively behind you. His bare chest presses against your back, expanding as he pulls in a heavy breath. As if to anchor yourself to him, you reach for his hand, winding your fingers through his. He squeezes your palm and presses his nose against the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, ‘mega,” he murmurs, “I’m going to keep you safe.”

#what goes bump in the night #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam winchester #a/b/o dynamics #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester reader insert

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brat-in-a-teacup · 5 years

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Initiating the new recruit

NFSW, Really Really NSFW, No-Plot-Just-Smut, Obviously 18+!

This is for @covered-byroses 2500 followers seriously that is an amazing amount and this writer is amazingly good. The kink I chose was Gangbang.

Twink Steve (Pre-Serum), Howling Commandos,

A tiny smidge of dub/con, Alcohol,

Anal, A smidge of Bondage.

Bukkake, Gangbang,

6M x m, Language,

Word Count: 1672

“Private S. Rogers reporting for duty Sir!” Shouted Stevie standing to attention, saluting Colonel C. Phillips who did a double-take at the short wiry pale soldier standing before him. “Jesus Christ they really are scraping the bottom of the barrel now, they’ll be sending over broads next! Muttered Phillips who was staring down at the recruit in front of him. “Right go over to those trucks there they will take you to the Howling Commandos maybe they will have a use for you although I can’t imagine what,” Sighs the colonel with a resigned sigh and a dismissive wave. Stevie grins thanked the commander before running off to the trucks.

— Hours Later —

Stevie was nudged awake by the other soldier in the back of the truck, nodding his head in goodbye, Stevie stumbled as he jumped out falling to his feet, the truck backfired as it moved away causing Stevie to start coughing a familiar tickle starting in the back of his throat. Stevie grabbed his bag and rifle breathing deep trying to calm his breathing looking over at the small campfire surrounded by 6 hunched over figures finding a familiar handsome and dark-haired soldier in the middle of the group. Stevie rushes over calling out, “Bucky, Bucky hey pal”. Bucky hears the familiar voice and looks over his face breaking into a grin running over and grasping Stevie in a hug. “So Stevie, they finally let you in huh? Let me introduce you to the HC unit”. Bucky directs him towards the men surrounding the fire, drinking beers and sharing stories from before the war looking up as the Sargent brought over there newest recruit. Bucky points at a rosy-faced, bowler har wearing soldier, “Ok so this ugly guy here is Sergeant “Dum Dum Dugan, the fellow to his left is Private Morita, the guy next to him is Private Jones, the frog next to him is Private Dernier and then there’s this lad whose name is…” The blonde Englishman interrupted him turning to hold out his hand to hakes Stevie’s. “Good evening I’m Private James M Falsworth, a pleasure to meet you Sargent Barnes left out how handsome you are when describing you, come join us to have a beer” Private Falsworth patted the spot next to him. Stevie smiles shyly taking his place between Bucky and Falsworth. The night carries on smoothly beer flows and the men are merry, laughing and joking telling Stevie tales of battle against the Nazi Germans.

Stevie tried to keep up with the others beer for beer but ended up feeling his head was spinning and an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach stumbling to his feet, Stevie lurched to the treeline dropping to the floor heaving as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

Bucky hurried over with a canteen of water in his hand, soothing Stevie’s back as Stevie coughed and spluttered the last of the alcohol from his mouth.

“Hey pall here have some water sorry I forgot your such a lightweight, you ok?” asked Bucky palming the back of Stevie’s neck and hairline. Stevie nodded, kneeling back on his heels swilling his mouth out with water. “I… I’m ok Buck, sorry to embarrass you in front of your unit… “ Stevie looked ashamed but Bucky took him by the chin “no worries Stevie we know some ways to make up for it don’t we… how we were under the shit back at the apartment… hmm the gents are curious to know what you are like…” smiled Bucky a mischievous grin covering his face. Stevie blushed at the memories it was true him had been close and shared more than just an apartment but in public, they were just best of friends as close as brothers.

“I… dunno Bucky… the guys they seem like straight shooters…” stutters Stevie blushing looking to the floor becoming more flustered. “Hey Stevie there is a war on out here pleasure be it food, beer or of the flesh are hard to come by sometimes you have to create your own entertainment and it brings the unit closer together” explains the handsome brunette who was now stroking Stevie’s jaw.

“Come on I promise the guys will be gently, to begin with, and I will personally make sure you enjoy it… I’ve missed the taste of you Stevie…” coo’s Bucky.

Bucky leads over the smaller soldier hand in hand sitting down and pulling Stevie onto his lap one arm around his waist the other pulling Stevie’s head to the side kissing him his tongue swirling around Stevie’s mouth still tasting of beer.

The others moved over pulling Stevie into kisses with them each with a different style some harder more demanding, another softer like a woman’s touch, Steve felt himself harden against Bucky’s thigh humming into the kisses as the deepened becoming rougher more passionate.

The unit circle around Stevie taking turns to kiss and caress his cheek, his neck, his chest until Bucky started undoing Stevie’s shirt button by button the chilled autumn air invaded his skin making him shiver unexpectedly. Bucky took off the shirt showing the soldiers the pale flesh and they each grabbed and stroked, admiring its unblemished softness. Stevie feeling overwhelmed by all the sensations focused on holding onto Bucky’s lapels, kissing whoever he was pulled towards until Bucky pulled his hands behind his back, binding them together with a discarded tie another being placed around his eyes stealing his sight, Stevie’s anxiety and arousal heightened further. “Buck… Bucky…I don’t know…” Questioned Stevie his voice a squeak between kisses his lips redraw from stubble. “Shhh, trust me, Stevie, I will make sure you enjoy it I promise” smiled Bucky nodding towards the men as they quickly removed their clothes palming their already hard and quivering members. Stevie’s mouth was guided to one cock kissing the head before another took its place, then another slowly he took one in his mouth further and further until his nose was brushing the groin at the base. Stevie hummed and sucked just the way Bucky had taught him just before the war began before their worlds changed.

Suddenly he was pulled away and another cock was thrust into his mouth this one longer but not as wide still the tip pressed against the back of his throat he heard a long sigh he thought to belong to the Frenchman, Stevie started bobbing his head up and down hollowing his cheeks focusing on breathing through his nose. Stevie was helped to kneel and he guessed Bucky was undoing his pants his cock was hard and heavy and pressing uncomfortably against his khaki’s, it sprung forward to a cheer by the men around him praising his cock and his skills with his mouth. Stevie was pulled off the Frenchman’s cock and a thicker cock with raised veins entered his mouth filling it up, he was grasped by the head and the owner started fucking his face from the smell of cigar smoke and the grunting it was Dugan, Stevie felt there was nothing he could just hold on taking shallow breaths when he could. Just when he felt he was struggling for air he was released and felt a coolness by his arse and two fingers into him he groaned in surprise recognising Bucky’s talented fingers one hand grasping his cock the other working him open, Stevie squirmed on Bucky’s fingers when a third was introduced wanting to thrust his hips forward his cock pulsating with need. Just as he could bear it no more, Bucky pulled his fingers out and lowered Stevie onto his long and thick cock which was a specimen to behold. Bucky grunted at the tightness of Stevie’s hole tenderly allowing Stevie to adjust gently bringing his fist forward and back over his cock, Stevie was gasping and praising Bucky until his mouth was filled with another cock. Bucky made sure to keep Stevie just on the edge, his movements slow and measured steadying Stevie with a hand on his hip thrusting in and out of him. Stevie was drunk on endorphins begging for more cock with each change of soldier, Stevie begged Bucky to fuck him harder, faster allow him the release that he craved so near but so far from in control of his voice was hoarse by now, saliva streamed down his reddened face. “I think our Stevie boy here is ready to be baptised don’tcha boys, last one to cum this twink’s face does first watch” called out Dugan grunting with effort. Bucky also picked up his pace, hand and hips working in tandem that had Stevie moaning, nipples puckered pulling against his restraint incoherent to speak. The first spurted from Stevie’s left coating his cheek and part of his the next came from in front hot spunk shooting across his face, Stevie licked his lips tasting the man in front. Two appeared to cum at the same time coating his lips and hairline. The next came from Falsworth who came crying out and holding Stevie by the hair smearing his face with the cooling cum. Bucky was grunting his hips snapping against Stevie’s thighs Stevie bounced up and down his hair pulled to expose his thin neck, a hand around it causing Stevie to come, the sensation causing Bucky to come moments behind. Bucky pulled Stevie down grinding his hips, burying himself deep as Stevie bucked his cum spurting over Bucky’s shoulder.

The men laughed each giving Stevie a kiss, helping him off Bucky who pulled the smaller man close unbinding him, wiping his face until the cum had gone leaving a sleeping and cum drunk Stevie curled up under two overcoats Bucky curled up beside him whispering sweet nothings into his ear. “Hey, Buck?” whispered Stevie, “Yeah whatcha want? replied Bucky. Stevie gave a small sleepy chuckle “I wish they had let me in the army sooner after this evening…” Bucky smiled tenderness in his eyes “me too pal me too…”.

#covered-byroses #Marvel #Bucky #SteveRogers #TheHowlingCommandoes #lemons #NSFW

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paganinpurple · 6 years

Text

Clowder - Ch 5

I suck at updating anything and I have no excuse...

Buy Me A Coffee?

It Was You (comes before this fic)

Read on AO3 or FF.net <<Ch 1 <Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6>

Patrol

Chat Noir dropped down onto the rooftop silently - even his steel toed boots making no noise as they came into contact with the flat beam connecting the two sloped surfaces of the roof. In front, towards the far edge of the roof -back turned towards him- was Ladybug, pigtails caught in the light breeze blowing towards him and trails of hair gracefully flapping along with the ribbons holding them up.

The sky was dark but Paris was the City of Lights after all, and by the illuminations along the Seine he could make out the subtle movement of her head as it turned -proving that despite his silence, she knew he was there.

“You know,” he started, sauntering towards her with a wicked grin adorning his face, “bugs that stay out in the open tend not to do so well when a cat spots them.”

“Maybe I wanted you to see me,” she said back, her face turning to watch him from over her shoulder, a playful glint in her eyes and her smile.

It was the first patrol they had been due to complete since everything had finally been out in the open between them and Chat had been getting slowly more and more excited about it all day. Back when he had first discovered Marinette’s identity he had immediately thought of playful, flirty patrol routes, littered with newly discovered make-out spots and the odd scandalised civilian as they were seen together. But it had quickly become apparent that it had been too risky. Not because they were frightened Hawkmoth would find out - after all, he would have already known they were close from interviews and on the job banter, and if he had wanted to try and use their relationship against them he would have already done so.

No, it had been too risky because if anyone had seen them, it would definitely make it back to the Ladyblog and Alya would have immediately assumed Chat was cheating on Marinette. Her possible reaction was a multi-faceted thing -she might have gone directly to Marinette and freaked out, she could have waited at her house until he showed up to chew him out herself, or she might have tried publicly shaming him. All of the many, many scenarios Marinette had managed to come up with had been less than ideal and some outright dangerous to them.

But, with Alya in the know that Ladybug and Chat were together now…

“And why would a tiny, cute little bug want a big scary cat to see them?” he asked, finally reaching her and sliding an arm around her waist to tug her back against his body.

“Maybe I want to play a little,” she said, turning in his grip to face him, palms pressed against his chest as she reached up to whisper into his ear, “before he eats me up.”

Chat sighed. “You’re too good at this,” he said before leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said when they finally pulled apart, “I’m just being the same old me as always.”

“Liar,” he said with a smirk, “You know, I have a girlfriend who hates liars.”

It was Ladybug’s turn to smirk now. So, he wanted to play it like this, did he? “Something us girls have in common then,” she told him, “I think there’s a lot your other girlfriend and I would agree on, actually.”

“Oh really?” he said, his lips peeling back to reveal a dangerous looking grin as he considered her, “Then I think you two should absolutely meet up some time.”

She raised an eyebrow playfully and circled around him, the breeze now pulling her hair out of her face where it fanned behind her in an otherworldly dark halo. “No thanks, Kitty. I’m not as into girls as you are. Although I might want to revisit the two boyfriend’s thing again someday. That was an interesting afternoon.”

She bit back a laugh as Chat appeared to choke on his own saliva at her comment before looking down at her wide-eyed. “Ladybug!” he sputtered, “Absolutely nothing happened, and you know it!”

“I know,” she said, backing away carefully until she was leaning against a chimney stack which formed an enclosure from the brisk night air and gave her a reprieve from her uncontrollable wind-rushed hair, “That wasn’t because I didn’t try hard enough to make something happen though.”

She giggled openly this time at his unamused look and especially at his snort of derision. As much as she loved to tease him, being reminded of her tasteless and lusty behaviour when he’d been split into two Chats by an akuma was clearly souring his mood, and she didn’t want that. She gestured to him to join her over by the brickwork and wasted no time once he was within reach, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again.

“I’m a horny teenager,” she said against the shell of his ear and was thrilled to feel the shudder that ran through his body as she repeated her same sentiment from at the time, “I can’t help if having two hot boyfriends makes my mind wander sometimes.”

Leaning forward, he gently nipped at her neck as she gasped little breathy sighs against his hair until he gave in to his desires and captured her lips with his own again. They moved against each other for a while - just lips at first until their kisses grew more and more heated until eventually Chat had Ladybug pinned against the wall, both bodies moving and panting lewdly against the other.

Chat groaned a little before pulling back, Ladybug trying to follow and whining slightly when he gripped her by the hips to hold her away from him. “As a horny teenager myself,” Chat began with a hiss, “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but we have to stop. You know there’s someone who will kill me if I make a mess of this suit and he’s hardly easy to live with as it is.”

“Chaaaat…” she whined, reaching down to try to cup him through the suit, “that’s not fair.”

He grabbed her hand before it reached him, lifting it up by the wrist until it was level with his face and placing a tender kiss against it. “Bug,” he said, “I said no.”

“Oh,” she said, eyes widening as it occurred to her that she had almost disregarded his choice in the matter and overstepped, all because she wanted more. “OhmondieuI'msosorry,” she said, the words becoming one long noise rather than actual language, “I wasn’t thinking. Please don't hate me.” She buried her face in her hands as her body shuddered from a combination of arousal and humiliation.

Chat rolled his eyes a little at her dramatics, starting to giggle loud enough to have her peek at him through her fingers. She frowned as they dropped aware revealing her face to him again and his laughter tapered off to a grin as her expression belayed her confusion. “Isn’t the stereotype that it’s the guy who usually pressures the girl about this stuff?” he smirked.

Her jaw dropped open in horror at his words and he couldn’t help but consider how much he’d like to taste the inside of that mouth again. Her voice was high pitched when she spoke, and he fought back the wince when his enhanced hearing registered the sound as unpleasant. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you, I-” the armour coated finger pressed against her lips halted her words and he leaned in, his smile turning dangerous as his face loomed above hers. She gulped despite her desperate attempts to remain composed.

“I know,” he said, “and had we been at yours or mine I absolutely would not have pushed that no, My Lady. It would’ve been half-hearted at best. This cat still wants to play.” Her lip trembled beneath his finger as she moaned softly. He loved this. Usually Marinette was nothing but confidence when they were intimate in any way -at least, she had been since their first couple of attempts at fooling around together- but suddenly she had turned to putty against the wall behind her. He revelled in the way her breaths came short and shallow against his hand and at how she was clearly warring with herself to avoid pressing her curves against his body again. He continued to smirk wickedly and tried to tone down his thoughts lest patrol get uncomfortable for him in his tight suit. He dropped his hand from her face to cradle her hip.

“I could s-stay over,” she said, her cadence suddenly much less measured and more unsure than before. His thoughts screeched to a halt. A sleepover. Another sleepover at his, when the previous one this weekend was still so fresh in his mind. So much for controlling his thoughts.

Mentally, he shook himself, pleading with his lower body not to react when he was outdoors and in the position of a role-model for over half of Paris. You’re a responsible superhero first, he told himself, horny as hell second. “What about patrol?”

“Let’s skip it this once. We’ll go to yours instead. I just need to, um, text maman. You know, so she knows where I am?”

“You’d-” -he cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the way his voice cracked- “-you’d need to get up early to leave before you’re caught. Can you manage that? With the way you…struggle to wake up?” He smirked. Of all his girlfriend’s talents and abilities, being an early riser was not among them.

Her nose scrunched up adorably at the thought of an early wake-up call and he melted a little at the cute Marinette-esque gesture from behind Ladybug’s mask. “Then stay at mine?” she suggested, her volume dropping as she looked up at him.

He swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. Her eyes were so, so big, boring in to his own from beneath her lashes. Twin pools of deep blue that he found himself drowning in. He wanted to give in, to surrender to her suggestion. He really did. But they’d probably stay up late again, and they had school tomorrow. But Dieu he wanted to spend another night with this gorgeous specimen of a girl. “I don’t know…” he said, not sounding even slightly believable, even to his own ears.

“Oh.” Apprehensively, she glanced between his face and some point in the distance for a few moments, her face becoming warmer and more flushed as she had some kind of internal debate with herself. Eventually, she leaned her body into him again, arms winding around his waist while she hid her face in his chest, the very picture of a bashful, pleading mess. “I really want you to come over,” she whispered, nuzzling his pectoral muscles.

He smiled tensely into her hair even as he was puzzled by her suddenly shy attitude. It was so strange to see his normally fierce girlfriend this self-conscious around him. She seemed to really want him over for some reason and if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to go too. “Okay,” he finally relented, feeling her tremble against him slightly before squeezing his waist tighter in response, “But I really do need to leave early so I’m not missed before lycée.”

“Great,” she whispered softly as another tremor shook her body. Not at all normal for her. His smile dropped and transformed into a frown at the sensation.

He placed a concerned kiss to her head. “Why are you so nervous?” he asked, tone dripping with worry as he pulled back to look at her. Instantly her face was aflame, and she quickly grabbed at the loose hairs which had escaped her pigtails, aggressively tucking them behind her ears as she avoided his eyes.

He watched as she sidestepped him to move towards the edge of the roof with such speed he panicked she might have kept going even once she reached the edge and fallen in her haste. She halted in time however, turning to face him finally. “I’mnotnervous!” she garbled, “Come on, I turned the heating off before I left. Let’s go before my room gets too cold!” And with that she leapt from the rooftop.

Head tilted in confusion at her retreating form, he quickly shook himself and began to follow her back to the bakery via the slightly elongated route she seemed to prefer the security of and remained completely puzzled by her behaviour throughout the journey.

It took only an hour or so after they arrived for Adrien to make the new-found connection that although Marinette always seemed confident when she was in a familiar setting, it quickly became apparent that she could get ridiculously apprehensive whenever she tried something new. Even something that she herself wanted and had been the one to initiate.

As a result, he was really looking forward to the next time she got this nervous around him again.

Buy Me A Coffee?

#PIP writes #miraculous ladybug #ML fic #Clowder #Love Square #It Was You sequel

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impishnature · 7 years

Text

Journal Entry #137

AO3

Rating: T

Summary: Lighthouse Keeper AU - Ford finds something fascinating that he can’t resist investigating further.

AN: This was written ages ago when @howtotrainyournana tagged me in a very interesting post about deepsea cryptids. Which I now can’t find to link. But yeah, I had to write this and I’ve been sitting on this knowing it couldn’t be posted til I’d actually written the end to Light Keeper. ^^;; But hey- I said there’d be more in this AU ;p Oh, and actually- there are already more oneshots on patreon <3

What luck – a dead cryptid has washed up along the shore! The entire fishing town is abuzz with it. We only arrived a few short hours ago, making port on schedule for once, and I feel like that careful planning has been rewarded!

They were already preparing to push the creature back into the sea, quickly and without trouble, in the hopes it could be forgotten about. I’m glad we got here when we did! Though my brother seems to agree with them… I’m not entire sure why he seems so unnerved by this particular specimen, not when we were attacked by a much livelier individual only a few days ago out in the open water. Our Stan’O’War II has the scars as proof of that particular battle! And yet he seems convinced that some things, such as this, should just be left as mysteries…

Regardless, I have finally managed to persuade the townspeople to let me take a look at it before they do anything hasty! The research is invaluable, even if none of them understand the significance of it.

Stan has gone back into town to get us supplies, he says he’ll meet me on the boat when I’m ready. We did have plans to explore this area a bit but I understand – the townsfolk are giving me as wide a berth as the creature now, perhaps it’s best we continue on our journey sooner rather than later.

Stan had been excited to reach port again though… I’ll find a place nearby for us to stop properly once I’m done with my research to make it up to him.

That is a matter for later though, for now – the creature!

It seems to be some kind of giant eel. It’s all coiled up where it has beached but I’d estimate that it could be as long as 50ft whilst in the water. It is a heavy specimen, slippery too, my hands barely even touch if I wrap them around the creature, so moving said coils has proven fruitless to effectively measure its entire length accurately.

The scales though are quite brilliant! I assume it must be some kind of deep sea cryptid. The scales when we first arrived this morning and saw it from a distance were a distinct inky black, perfect I assume for dark caverns and hidden spaces below the sea. But now, on closer inspection, they are iridescent. The light from the sun is changing them to a mesmerising array of colours, much like crows wings. There’s almost a patterned quality to it though, rings and swirls of colour, it’s really quite hypnotic- perhaps a way to lure in prey? Fascinating. I wonder what it must have looked like when it was alive…

The longer I stand here, the duller the scales seem to appear as they dry out… if I had more time I’d check if my theory was correct but I can feel people still watching me suspiciously. For now I’ll just take some samples when I’m sure no one can see. I’d rather not give them any more reasons to grow mistrustful of us.

I managed it – interestingly the skin below the scales is not actually black, it’s vaguely translucent. I wonder if there is more to this creature having a bioluminescence than previously thought.

I’m going to try and move some of the coils again now that I’ve collected some scales-

There’s a humanoid face! How intriguing, it appears to be some species of Merperson? Perhaps? Its face is quite flat, perhaps the pressure in its habitat is fairly strong, that would explain it evolving in this manner. The bioluminescence would fit this theory! Is this a deep sea Merperson? One that has survived for years in the unexplored parts of the ocean? I’ve never heard a Merperson speak of such cousins, I wonder how differently they have evolved, whether they even speak the same languages, sing the same songs… or perhaps I have been told of them before but not in so many words, not in a way I understood at the time. I’ll have to go back through my notes later!

But it all fits. The fluid eel body, thin and long, much more suited for the deeper open waters – perhaps this is a guardian of the perplexing eel gardens I have heard about before?

…It’s jaw unhinges. There are rows of sharp hooked teeth but by the impressive way its mouth opens I’d say it swallows most things whole, much like a snake or a gulper eel. Perhaps it swims open mouthed through the water, capturing anything that in unfortunate enough to get in its way…

That’s… quite an unsettling image, with the jaw open like that- I’m a bit glad that my first meeting is with this co-operative fellow.

…Moving on.

There are 6 eyes by the looks of it, unlike a fish it still appears to have eyelids, though for what purpose I cannot even begin to fathom. I’ll pull one open now and give a quick sketch.

Oh! How fascinating. The eyes themselves are pure black, much the same as the body, but the pupil itself is a thin white slit. I wonder if they were another luring mechanism?

Yes! It appears so! If I manoeuvre the head up towards the sunlight, the eyes seem to reflect the light, giving the pupils a yellow-

…Stan was right, some things should be left well alone.

I think I’m done with this research, it’s time we left this coast.

#gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls #lighthouse keeper au #stanley pines #stanford pines #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #bill cipher #the light keeper #writing a journal entry was fun #and different writing practise to my usual!

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 7

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 7

When you emerged from the bathroom Henry was just coming out of the kitchen area, two bottles of water in hand before he opened one and handed it to you;

“Drink”

“Thank you” you took it from him and lifted it to your mouth, not realising how dry your throat had grown from all the exertion. As you drank in silence you couldn’t help but to let your eyes stray over his exquisite body, from his broad chest to his narrow waist, to his thick cock hanging heavy between his enormous thighs. You hadn’t realised how long - and obviously - you’d been staring, but when he held his arms out and span slowly around with a smirk on his face you realised it hadn’t been in the tiniest bit subtle;

“Like what you see Princess?”

Stepping forwards you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest as you smiled at him;

“You know I do”

With a sly grin you pressed the cold-water bottle to his naked ass and he let out a high-pitched squeal and leapt forwards, knocking you to your ass onto the soft plush carpet. Propping yourself up on your elbows you grinned at him as he towered over you, a look of dark amusement on his face;

“Oh, you are in for it now Princess”

You let out a squeal as he suddenly swooped down and threw you over his shoulder before stalking back to the bed and tossing you onto the king-size mattress. You squealed and laughed as he was suddenly upon you, tickling your sides in a relentless fashion as you writhed and wriggled beneath him. With your legs entangled you were soon rolling around, skin sliding against skin and you could feel him getting hard against your belly. In a moment of weakness you were able to twist your body enough so that suddenly you were on top, straddling his waist. You caught his hands in yours and intertwined your fingers together, your chests heaving from exertion and laughter.

You leant forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips, and that’s when you felt it. You weren’t sure if henry knew what you were about to do, but as you knelt back upright and rolled your hips just right, you slowly sank down onto his hard length that had notched just right at your entrance when you’d kissed him. His eyes went wide in surprise, his jaw hung open before the feeling of your hot soaked walls completely enveloping him was too much to process and his eyes fluttered shut;

“Oh… oh-hoh… fuck…”

His lip trembled as you slowly rolled your hips, arching your spine before straightening. With your fingers still linked you moved, riding him slowly, spelling out letters and words with your hips to rub him just the right way to make him go crazy. Out of all the times he had known how to work your body and drive you to an intense orgasm, now it was your turn. With a roll and curve of your hips you felt his fingers tighten against yours, his mouth moving but unable to get out the words he wanted to say, before finally finding his voice;

“Hu-holy… fuck... Princess, I-if you keep going I’m gonna cum”

“That’s the plan…”

“But you…”

“Shhh… don’t you worry about me Hen, just enjoy it”

His body relaxed when he realised what you wanted to do, that you weren’t concerned about your own orgasm, and instead wanted to drive him completely crazy. With a swirl of your hips you started to spell out certain letters with your hips. You closed your eyes and concentrated on spelling and with each letter Henry’s moans and cries got more heated. On the second to last letter he let out a high pitched whine and his hands flew to your hips, the tell-tale tremble where your bodies were joined, and as you swayed your hips from right to left to right to left it was the trigger and his back arched, pumping you full of another load of his thick seed.

He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you down to his lips, kissing you before you settled onto his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you held him in the afterglow of his orgasm. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper;

“Thank you”

“Umm, you’re welcome?”

“No, really, thank you. It’s been a long time since a lover has solely given me pleasure without expecting it in return… which I absolutely will do, but…”

In that moment you felt for him, you knew that he knew he was a skilled lover, but when you have a skill sometimes people can take it for granted. You went to speak but in that moment your stomach rumbled, and you giggled as he ran a hand softly over your back;

“You are feeling hungry again Princess?”

“We did work up quite an appetite… do you think it’s too late for room service?” you propped yourself up and smiled at him.

“Go check out the fridge… I would move but you’ve rendered me useless for the next few minutes with that pussy from heaven…”

You delicately shifted off him, feeling his now soft member slip out of you, and you stood on wobbly legs, walking bow legged to the kitchen as you felt Henry’s cum slowly coating your inner thighs. Bending to look into the fridge you let out a squeal when you saw the large plate decorated with miniatures of all the restaurants famous desserts.

“Bring two spoons!” you heard Henry call from the bed and you smiled as you did as he asked, carrying the plate in one hand and the cutlery in another as you made your way through the room lit by a single lamp at the side of the bed that he’d switched on and settled the plate on the bed beside Henry as he sat propped up against the plush pillows. You handed him a spoon and grinned;

“Okay so we’re not going to just eat these off each other’s bodies?”

“Uh-huh… you see this one?” he swiped his spoon halfway through what looked like a chocolate cheesecake; “This one has cocoa nibs in… they get caught in my chest hair”

He lifted the spoon to your lips and you moaned as the rich Ecuadorian cocoa hit your taste buds, before grinning and talking with your mouth full;

“So, you’ve done the body cheesecake eating thing with someone else?” you cocked an eyebrow, before your eyes went a little wider when you saw him start to blush and you stopped chewing.

“Not exactly…” he took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly; “I was staying here last year - my Air B&B wasn’t ready - and I ordered room service. I had fucked up my shoulder on a dig so couldn’t be bothered to wear a shirt… and proceeded to drop an enormous spoonful of cheesecake on my chest”

You let out a burst of laughter, struggling to keep the chocolatey mess in your mouth as he continued;

“So not only was it super cold, it got caught in all the hairs… and my dominant arm was fucked up so when I went to pick it out I missed the plate with the crumby base and dropped it on the floor… then proceeded to step on it and leave a trail of brown stains across this carpet to the bathroom that looked like I’d trodden shit around the suite”

Your eyes watered from trying hard not to laugh and spray cheesecake over him, but the thought of him having to speak to the concierge about another ‘its-not-shit-its-cheesecake’ incident was too much… thankfully Henry could see your predicament, quickly reaching to the plate to grab a paper napkin that had been set on it and handing it to you so you could spit the cheesecake out.

The pair of you picked at the desserts, feeding each other, talking and laughing, before you stifled a yawn;

“I need some sleep… you’ve worn me out”

“Let me get rid of this” Henry grabbed the empty plate and started towards the kitchen area; “And then I’ll see about sorting you out Princess”

Standing you smiled as you headed towards the bathroom, your body and mind in that pleasant glow of pre-sleep, absentmindedly calling out to him;

“I love you to pieces Henry but you are not coming near this pussy again tonight, she needs time to recover… I’m gonna pee then fall asleep in your arms in that massive bed”

With your back turned you weren’t aware of Henry’s reaction to your words, how he’d picked up on your casual use of Love, and that he knew it came from the heart.

By the time you returned to the bedroom Henry had lowered the blinds and was laying in bed, the covers to his waist as you climbed in beside him, curling up to his wide chest as he wrapped an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You were asleep within minutes; however Henry was wide awake, his mind racing, processing something that had never been said to him before.

You woke to find Henry’s arm draped over your waist, his chest to your back as the cracks of daylight peeked in through the miniscule gaps in the blinds that covered the windows. You shifted a little and he rolled silently onto his back, the sheets draped over his lower body and you could tell he was sound asleep. Sitting on the side of the bed you reached for the water bottle only to find it empty, and with a longing glance at sleeping beauty you pushed yourself to your feet in the search for a drink.

Twenty minutes later you emerged from the shower, having found your lower body to be a sticky uncomfortable mess upon waking, you spied Henry’s shirt from the night before draped over a chair and pulled it on, smiling at the scent of his aftershave as your body heated the luxury cotton as it nestled against your naked body. Quietly making a cup of coffee you peered in at Henry, still snoring away in the massive bed. Letting him rest you took a seat in the dining area, resting your legs on the glass table as you checked your phone, snapping a shot from your hip that showed Henry’s shirt tails draped over your thigh, your steaming mug of coffee, and the London skyline in the background.

One Instagram upload later you were quietly enjoying your coffee as you checked your messages when one caught your eye, from your roommate. As you read it your heart sank. Two years ago when you’d been hunting for a flat share in London you’d been introduced to a friend of a friend, a photographer that had a flat in Fulham and was never home, as he was a Paparazzi and travelled for 9 months of the year. He kept a place in London that was in essence a storage flat, but for security he liked to have a roommate. The last person had moved out and he needed someone to take on the spare room. Rent would be low by London standards, and for most of the year you’d have the place to yourself. Well, now he had decided to make the move to LA permanent, and wanted to touch base with you regarding how you and he should go about sorting the flat… and he was giving you first refusal to see if you wanted to buy it.

You set the phone down on the table and stared out of the window, a million and one things racing through your mind… did you earn enough to get a mortgage? Would it just be easier to move out and find another place? You were chewing on a fingernail when a large pair of hands slid down your shoulders and slipped inside the open shirt to cup your breasts, whilst the owner of said hands bent over you and kissed you;

“Morning”

“You look delicious in my shirt Princess”

Henry's voice was rough from sleep, immediately ridding the previous problem from your mind and it sent a jolt of arousal straight to your core;

“You looked pretty damn good in it too last night”

Turning you stood and wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders, sighing into the tongue filled kiss as he lifted you and set your ass down on the cool glass of the table. Slowly he unfastened the few buttons that were holding the shirt together, before letting the garment fall open to expose your naked body. He ran his hand down your body, cupping your sex before sliding two fingers through your folds;

“You’ve showered”

“I have… I was sticky…”

“Mmmn… I’ll just have to make you sticky again”

He angled his hips and you felt his morning wood press against your entrance, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he slowly pushed into your soaked channel. You were expecting him to just fuck you on the table, but when he lifted you and wrapped your legs around his waist, you let out a cry of surprise before he walked the few steps to the massive windows and pressed you against them;

“I want all of London to see how beautiful you are when you cum, how well you take my dick…”

He started to fuck you hard against the glass, your head resting against the cool surface as you clung to his shoulders, and with each delicious flick of his hips he was driving you rapidly towards orgasm, his thickness filling you completely. You were almost there when he paused, and it brought your focus back to his face, surprise to see he wasn’t looking at you, instead his attention was outside. You following his gaze and let out a shriek: the window cleaning crew were hanging from their gantry, squeegees in hand and jaws agape as they watched Henry railing you against the window they were cleaning from the outside.

With a smirk Henry reached over and pressed the button for the internal window blinds to be lowered, the two of you still carnally connected as the outside world was cut off. In the now muted light Henry started with fresh vigour as he fucked you harder than ever before, filling you repeatedly before you came with a scream, squeezing his body so tight he followed soon after, pumping you full again.

He spent the longest time just holding you, pressing kisses to your face and neck before your legs started to cramp and you begged to be let down, the sclooping sound of his heavy length pulling free of your cum soaked channel met your ears and it sent a grin to your face;

“I’m going to need another shower”

“I think I’ll join you” he replied with a grin, before picking the room phone up; “I’ll order breakfast so it’ll be here for when we’re finished, say 45 minutes?”

You nodded silently, realising that the shower wasn’t going to be a ‘just get clean’ shower.

The shower had proven one thing; Henry was insatiable and had the stamina of a horse. He’d had you bent over from behind in the shower before you’d both cum, finally washing yourselves clean after that. As Henry shut the water off and stepped out he held out a hand to you, before wrapping a huge fluffy towel around your body and pressing a kiss to your nose. A knock at the suite door interrupted, Henry wrapping a towel around his waist as you started to dry yourself.

Emerging from the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, you’d tied the soft robe that was provided by the hotel around you and found Henry setting out the trays of breakfast on the table that only an hour before he’d been fucking you on;

“Breakfast is served! What would you like; waffles? Fruit?”

“Yes, it all sounds amazing”

You sat beside each other quietly eating, before Henry sat back and smiled at you;

“What would you like to do today?”

You shrugged;

“I hadn’t really thought about it to be honest… I wasn’t expecting an overnight stay at a hotel, so I didn’t exactly pack a change of clothes. I guess just head home after doing a walk a shame through reception in my evening dress”

Henry stood suddenly, holding a finger up in a ‘just a moment’ way, crossing the room and disappearing to the bedroom. You heard the quiet woosh of the sliding wardrobe doors opening, and moments later he reappeared carrying a number of bright yellow giftbags with ‘Selfridges’ emblazoned across them;

“I thought of that…”

He set the bags onto the table in front of you, and you raised an eyebrow;

“Hen… what’s in the bags…”

“An anti-walk-of-shame kit” You stood and looked into the bags, before starting to pull out their contents as he continued to explain; “I wasn’t sure what to get, or what the weather would be doing, so I got a few choices…”

Pulling a floaty summer dress from one bag you held it against you and twirled around, revelling in the way the fabric drifted on the breeze. Checking the label you saw that it was the right size, before setting it down and going through the other bags. You found a pair of comfortable velvet sliders that your feet would certainly welcome after wearing the high heels the night before, a cardigan, and a bikini that looked incredibly tiny along with some lace panties. Another bag contained travel sized toiletries and a hairbrush. Another held a pale tracksuit in the softest of jersey fabrics. You set everything back into their bags and looked at Henry;

“Thank you…. Is this normal for you?”

“No, not at all” he wrapped his arms around your waist; “With everything that happened this week, I wanted to treat you, surprise you with a night that couldn’t beat any other night you’d ever had with anyone in your past”

“What if I hadn’t said yes to staying the night?”

“Then I would have taken all this back to my place for you to use there” he shrugged and a smile on his lips.

“And why the bikini?”

“Oh, there’s a pool here, thought we could make use of it before lunch?”

The sight of Henry in swimming trunks was enough to make you want to drop to your knees, the fabric closely cropped around the tops of his massive thighs, and the way his dick bulged obscenely in them, well, you were glad you were the only ones making use of the pool. Your bikini that he’d chosen for you wasn’t much better, the top merely two triangles of fabric with an array of straps, the bottoms just about covering your pussy but not a lot else. You were thankful for the robes the hotel provided for your short trip to where the pool was.

Once you were in the water however the playful side came out of both of you, hands sneaking under the water for surreptitious squeezes and caresses. Just at the point where Henry was about to have you pressed against the wall of the pool you heard the door open to the pool room, and a family with three kids came in, the kids dive bombing into the water. You both laughed at their excitement of swimming in a high-rise, the views over London just as stunning as in every other room, and as the parents apologised for the kids you told them it wasn’t a problem at all;

“We were just about to get into the jacuzzi anyway”

“We were?” Henry muttered but didn’t argue as you led him up the steps and quickly sank down into the hot bubbling waters, the jacuzzi just around the corner from the pool. You were in the same room but thankfully out of sight, and the second the two of you were enveloped by the bubbles Henry pulled you to sit on his lap, facing away from him.

“There are camera’s here” he whispered in your ear; “But they can’t see what happens underwater…”

His fingers snuck into your bikini bottoms, seeking out your folds before rubbing against your clit. Resting your head back against his shoulder, to anyone watching it would seem you are just a couple in each other’s arms; what they couldn’t see was Henry already had two fingers knuckle deep within you. He was grinding his dick into your ass when you let the water float you above his lap enough for him to tug his shorts down just enough to free himself, before he pulled you down and you sank onto his hardness.

As you watched the city go about its day Henry whispered utter filth into your ear, his hips making the tiniest of thrusts beneath the water, his fingers rubbing hard against your clit as you did your absolute best not to moan, sigh, or give anything away above the water that you had Henry’s massive dick plundering you yet again, this time in public.

His breaths were getting shorter in your ear and you had almost bitten through your lip from trying not to moan at the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach, so when Henry’s other hand snuck inside your top and pinched at your nipple you let out a tiny grunt and started to cum, the tightness of your walls contracting around him setting his own orgasm off.

Soon after you climbed out having rearranged your swimwear, pulling your robes on before nodding to the family that were blissfully unaware of what you’d just done, their kids having been squealing and screaming far more than you two ever could.

Back at the room and showering again, you laughed as you playfully slapped away Henry’s hands as he kept trying to grab your ass in the shower, before finally turning and cupping his balls;

“Henry, give these two a rest, they’re almost empty… gotta save something for my afternoon snack…”

He grunted as you carefully washed him down of the soapy suds that covered his cock and balls, before kissing him once. As he soaped your back his voice was quiet;

“What would you like to do now? Head out somewhere? Borough Market is just across the road… Or it’s just a short walk down the embankment to tower bridge… we could be proper tourists for the day”

“That sounds good”

Sipping on the multiberry smoothie you’d bought as you and Henry had looked around Borough Market, the pair of you slowly strolled along the embankment alongside the River Thames. There was little to no breeze which you were truly thankful for as the dress he’d bought you was shorter than you were expecting, however he certainly wasn’t complaining and rather vocally had expressed how much he enjoyed seeing you in it. With your fingers interlinked with his you were deep in thought as you sipped on your drink, walking in silence towards the ornate towers of Tower Bridge.

“... Princess?”

Stopping you turned to Henry;

“Yes? Sorry, did you say…?”

Henry quietly laughed;

“I have in fact been wittering away for the entire length of the embankment… what’s on your mind?”

You saw a bench and nodded to it, Henry following you as you sat down;

“My roommate has told me he wants to sell the flat”

“Oh… I didn’t realise you had a roommate… and a ‘he’ at that…”

You sat back and looked at him, raising an eyebrow;

“Are you... Are you jealous?”

He leant forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. Taking a deep breath, he let out a single laugh before shaking his head;

“No… yes… kind of…”

“You don’t need to be. He’s gay. He’s out of the country for nine months of the year. When he is in the country, he’s barely at home with the hours he does”

“What does he do?”

“Paparazzi photographer. He’ll be here for a few months in the springtime… when it’s warm enough for celebs to be here for holidays and shopping. Usually starts with the Brit awards in February and is gone by May”

“Where does he sleep?”

“In his room of course”

“His… room?”

You stood, getting frustrated at the points Henry was focusing on;

“Yes, his room. The door off the right of the living room. That’s his room”

“Oh”

That was it. He didn’t say another word, instead just looked down at his hands. And it annoyed you. This man, this gorgeous, kind, caring man, the same man you had thought of and nothing else for the past few weeks, who had been your knight in shining armour, was suddenly focusing on such a small detail of your life and becoming jealous of it? The longer you looked at him the longer he kept his gaze averted, saying nothing.

You’d stayed long enough, silently you turned, the lump in your throat growing as you walked away, tossing the remains of your drink in the nearest bin. You didn’t look back. If he was going to be like that over something so tiny, perhaps you’d fallen too hard for him.

Chapter 8 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfic

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ganymedesclock · 7 years

Note

Reminder that you have to ramble about galra facial features.

[Edited and updated 4/6/17]

Yes, excellent!

Okay so this was something I had to think about because there’s been several times where I’ve looked at fanart, including my own, and had this moment of “this… is not a galra, this is a person spraypainted purple with color contacts and cat ears slapped on” and part of this is, I’ve had to look at canon galra and figure out what quite is the difference here.

Because the Galra are definitely what we’d call humanoid, but, they’re set up differently from humans.

I want to put this here as a reference, but I’m also putting it under a cut because there’s a lot of images to be had. But here goes!

The Body

This is technically about facial features as I said but, I wanted to touch on this, here. I think the biggest examples we can go for are Kolivan, Throk, and Ulaz, but, a lot of galra have this going on to some degree.

Most galra, compared to a human, come across a little bit stretched vertically. They tend to be taller, as we can see in that picture between Ulaz and Shiro- neither of them are standing straight up, but I think if they were, Shiro would still be about chin-height to Ulaz, and Shiro would be considered on the taller side of humans. If we assume Shiro is six foot something, it’d suggest the average adult Galra is around seven feet.

We haven’t seen explicitly confirmed female galra, so they may average either taller or shorter than their male counterparts, but I’d guess they’re about the same. When Allura shifts into galra form, one of the main things she changes is her height; as she’s passing as an average, not-remotely-suspicious foot soldier and met as such, this tells us that female galra, like male galra, tend to be tall.

That said, their proportions are also subtly different. Again, it’s on a sliding scale from individual to individual, but in general, galra have:

Larger hands- both wider palms and longer fingers.

Longer limbs relative to their height. (it was pointed out on a reblog that specifically, galra have longer forearms, while their upper arm and elbow is about proportionate to a human’s)

Because of this certain amount of seemingly species-wide lankiness (which makes Morvok stick out quite a bit) the galra also seem to tend towards a sort of streamlined profile. Seemingly, beefy profiles like Zarkon’s are uncommon.

Important note that this is not to say heavyset Galra can’t exist or “shouldn’t” exist or are some kind of aberration on their build! That would be both bad representation and ignoring our glorious man Varkon, Mall Cop MVP of the year.

That said, with Varkon, you can still see what I’m talking about- his arms are longer than what we would expect from a human of his frame.

Also, some amount of galra have tails, which would make me guess that all galra do, but usually just tiny butt-stubs that are not worth putting a hole in perfectly serviceable space pants for.

But this was about facial features, so, enough on the body here, let’s talk about…

The Face

Sagittal Crest

I’ve talked before about the fact that galra have head ridges. General terminology I’ve been using here is they have a sagittal crest, which is basically just “head ridge” in cooler words. (sagittal, referring to that center line back-to-front on the head). Every galra we have seen with the sole exception of Morvok has this crest, and it usually looks about the same- a crescent-shaped protrusion, I would guess of bone, and probably covered by skin.

On individuals like Thace and Prorok who have a defined mane separate from just, long head fur, the crest is visible and protrudes through the mane.

Noteworthy variations:

Kolivan’s crest is not a solid crescent piece but rather a line of short spikes on his head. We see this trait also in the thus-far unnamed galra commander on the far left of the picture I put on the top of this post.

Morvok, as mentioned, has no visible crest but there’s Probably Something Up With That especially considering he has a funny little crescent-shaped scar.

Unnamed first episode galra captain has an extreme version of Kolivan’s crest, where it is actually a reptilian line of spikes.

Zarkon’s entire head appears overtaken by armadillo-like plates that extend onto the bridge of his nose.

Ulaz’s is fluffy! (This is the main thing that makes me assume there’s some kind of skin or velvet over the bone, rather than it being more like a horn)

Cheekbones

Since I already have a nice repertoire of galra pictures up there, you’ve probably noticed this yourself, but, most of the galra have very sharp cheekbones that make prominent lines on their face. The main exceptions seem to be Morvok, Varkon, and young Zarkon (but not his older incarnation). Kolivan’s are more subtle, but they’re still present.

It’s also noteworthy that many of the galra appear to have a distinct ‘rim’ around their eye that’s usually black- Ulaz’s is consistently light colored, but he seems to be the only one.

We also see a lot of galra who have extra lines under their eyes but that might more be a property of the art style plus them all being adults, so I dunno if I’d immediately peg it as a Galra Thing quite like the specific dark eye rims.

I think it’s also noteworthy, as with this shot of Prorok, that, seemingly the dark rim around the eye goes all the way around it. I’m reminded a bit of the black skin around tiger eyes- which would seemingly suggest that galra skin is black without fur, at least around the eyes. It also might suggest Ulaz is a leucistic galra.

Noses

With the exception of unnamed first episode captain and Morvok, who have upturned noses, most Galra seem to have shorter, flatter noses that come to a point, with a kind of “v” shape to the nostrils. (the upturned noses have more of a “^” shape”)

This can sometimes be so prominent that the bridge of the nose is not distinguished from the rest of the face.

Some galra do have a more obvious nasal bridge- Prorok is a good example, but so is Thace.

Jawline and Hair

It’s also worth mentioning here that galra tend to have strong chins, and some, such as Prorok and the first episode captain, also have underbites. Prorok also shows us that some galra have protruding canines/ “saber teeth” on the lower jaw.

On every specimen we’ve seen where the hair or mane reaches the ears, they blend in together. Even when short, on galra that have manes, such as Thace, there’s usually hair on the side of the head and jawline as well. Thace, Morvok, Haxus and Prorok both have little tufts along their cheekbones.

Also, as seen with Haxus and Prorok, the mane often covers the neck as well- though not always, as seen with Thace. (Possibly, Thace is younger than those gray streaks make him look?)

This is why I’ve been calling the ‘head’ hair on galra a mane, because I feel like that conceptualizes it better- think of, well, a lion. This is one of the things I find the most overtly big-cat-ish about the galra!

Facial markings

We see a lot of variety, and a lot of colors.

Throk has tabby stripes, while his currently unnamed claw-handed pal (bluish guy seen here) also demonstrates another variant on the armadillo-like bone plates that Zarkon has, in the form of multiple ridges on the head and chin. We’ve seen violet (Throk), red (Kolivan), white (Ulaz), and then the warden at Beta Traz who has a goshdanged face party going on.

Pink and blue. The warden also seems to be greenish-complected, but, that’s just a trick of the lighting: in more neutral lights, we see that the warden’s actually another bluish-toned galra.

Ears

I overlooked this at first because “well, they’re pointy” but that’s not quite it at all. There’s a lot of variety here. We have two more or less distinct subsets- lower-set ears distinct from a mane that are “elfish”, and higher placed ears around the eyebrow line that are more “catlike”. Common (see, the warden, claw-handed unnamed commander, first episode captain, Kolivan is the most extreme example) there’s a kind of extra tuft around the lobe. Prorok and Thace deserve honorable mention because both have jaw-height tufts at the appropriate place. So Galra ears, not always, but often, are subtly butterfly-shaped.

A few- Haxus and Morvok- have a distinct fold, curl, or droop to their ears, but that seems uncommon.

Characters like Prorok, Kolivan, Sendak, and the first episode unnamed captain show us there’s kind of a spectrum here between “elf-eared” and “cat-eared”- but overwhelmingly, the specimens we see with manes are also the ones with the more “catlike” ears- which could mean that really the main difference between one type and the other is just whether or not it’s covered with fur. So naturally, ears that are closer to the hairline are furrier, while specimens that have a narrow hairline (the warden, Ulaz) wouldn’t have that mane reach their ears.

Either way, galra ears are a bit batlike- they can be thought of as a wide-based hollow cone with an opening on one side.

As a parting note: the inside of galra mouths and their tongues would seem to be in shades of gray-blue.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #galra #readmore #long post /#image heavy /

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allollipoppins · 7 years

Text

Ch.6: MinaYuu - A Study in Scarlet/愛して愛して愛して

Read it on AO3 here.

Minami Kenjirou sees red.

The water pools around his ankles, cascading down his pink legs and splashing against the tiles of the shower stall.

[Distantly far away far away long ago a coiled necklace]

“Now Minami, you'll be a good boy and stay still for your shot, will you?

He tries to scream but hands slap on his mouth, restrain his limb. One wraps around his neck and its coil gets tighter, tighter, tighter –

Black spots invade his vision, eclipsing the pain of the needle sinking into his skin.”

[“I want people, I want people,” it cried, this cursed necklace]

His skin is turning pink from the scalding water, the color sprouting from various spots on his limbs and spreading like wildfire, a distant rash his eyes ache to relieve but not his hands.

[Don’t get angry.]

“You good-for-nothing brat,” a woman spits from behind him before striking him on the back one more.

He sits on his knees, hands balled into fists and a neutral, distant expression on his face. The ideal figure of the obedient child.

The first strikes have that effect. They don't sting so much anymore, or maybe it's just that he can't feel them as acutely as he does for the next ones.

His nails dig into his palms as the whip hits the tender, marred flesh of his back which he is sure is a cobweb of red lines by now, a maze of strings entangled together and imprisoning his frame.

He grits his teeth when she pauses, then lashes out at him with a howl-like scream. There we are, he observes. The whip drags itself along his spine, dragging with it remnants of the skin it has reopened, and blood. The movement, somehow, reminds him of a dog licking its master's wounds.

Such irony.

Maybe if he untangled his hands from his hair, he could give in to the pulsing curiosity. Run his fingers along his arms, his legs, his chest and back. Search for dark places and feel them burn underneath his numb fingertips. Rake them with his nails, just the tips, then pressing, digging into the flesh then rubbing, and scratching, until skin there is no more.

[Don’t abandon me.]

"Please, Minami, my darling, my love..."

He advances towards the woman half-sprawled on the floor, her body slowly emptying itself from blood, liquid seeping between the fingers she presses on her stomach. If he closes his eyes, Minami could almost hear it drip. Each and every single drop leaving the veins, slipping through pink flesh and reddening fabric, attracted by force of gravity to the fellow trickles and pulling itself to the ground in a steady beat. A pulse outside of a body, a rhythm in echo wth the faltered breathing and choked sobs.

What a sweet, sweet music to his ears.

“Oh my god, Minami, I beg of you!”

His feet bring him closer in the direction of the body, reaching out towards the extended hand. He raises his own in response, fingers clutching a torn card to the pint the corners have dug into his palm and etched a new web of lines interwined with his own natural lifelines.

The knife resting in the palm of his hand is the only god he knows.

[Don’t go anywhere.]

(Hey.)

His nails, he notices, have dug into the flesh of his palms deep enough to leave crescent-shaped indents. The hot water's strangely relaxing effect, added to the cacophony thumping inside his head, has left him too numb to focus on the pain. The mark becomes an open wound and even as it draws blood, Minami's eyes only follow the trail crimson droplets take, plunging into the pink water and blooming atop the rose water. They disperse themselves as soon as they come, washed down the drain.

[Fasten it tightly, til you could throw up, so there aren’t there aren’t any people here.]

Like poppies, a voice pipes in his brain. Alive for a day, then gone tomorrow.

Just like humans.

[Nice results, huh? Hey hey, aren’t I a good kid?]

He exits the cabin and lifts his hand in front of his face, bringing it to the mirror next to the stall. The temporary crimson hair dye he used on missions has left his fingers tinted as if he's dipped them in a can of paint.

These days, he doesn't bother putting on gloves to dye his hair or using cottonballs and makeup remover to wipe the blotches of red and white caked on his face after a long night.

[Aren’t I a cute kid? Hey hey, I’m good, right?]

He touches a finger to his lips, chases the movement of the tip as it traces the remnants of wine red that formed a perfect line on his mouth only hours ago. A blunt slip on one side smears cosmetic beyond the left corner of his lips. His finger presses flush on his cheek, and he repeats the motion faster on the other side, smudging the right cheek with a wider, paler line that still burns bright under the bathroom led.

[It hurts, hey]

Maybe he should start investing in better cosmetics. If only to stop looking like he just stepped out of a freak show. He knows himself to resemble such a specimen out of overhearing the people coming by the orphanage, the same ones who come to adopt and yet whisper behind his back. They say a lot of things, mostly about how he does'nt strike anyone as a fit role model for the children he teaches at the small college. Some even go as far as saying things along the lines of him trying to find a family that will love him through his work. Someone who who will appreciate him in spite of his antics and queer physique. About what a child he is. On the outside he gives them the smallest polite smile he can msuter. On the inside he's dismembering them and cutting inch by inch with a dull saw. See how pretty they'd look with red decorating their faces.

Minami may be naïve, but he isn't so stupid as to not know what others have to say about him.

[Love me.]

But then, Yuuri did say red suited him, didn't he?

[Love me.]

“There my little puppet, I'll show you how to do it.”

Minami's wide eyes remain fixated on Yuuri's face and hands as they remove the cap atop the lipstick, the color slowly popping out of its tube like a pointed needle, threateningly long and crimson. He shivers at the thought of it pressing against his lips.

As if sensing his inner dilemma, Yuuri – or rather, the Puppet Master as he'd introduced himself the first time (he really ought to get it in his head by now, stupid stupid stupid) – smiles at him reasurringly, warm brown eyes crinkling from underneath his lace mask.

Minami almost flinches when Yuuri raises his hand, and scrunches his eyes shut tightly in expectation of a slap or a blow far worse. Surprise almost makes him pull back when instead, the vigilante carresses his cheek as if cajoling a scared, wild animal.

He lets himself be manhandled, Yuuri's hand propped under his chin and fingers raising it higher. This time Minami doesn't jump when the lipstick fills the distance between himself and the other man. The tip, spotless a second ago and almost so silky he could have sworn seeing his reflection in it, dissolves as it brushes his cupid's bow, then bends in accord with the curve of his upper and lower lip. Yuuri never once takes his eyes off his work, focusing hard on getting his apprentice's mouth perfectly shaped. His touches are slow though deliberate, a painter's brush strokes on a blank canvas.

If such is a muse's occupation, then he wouldn't mind having Yuuri's eyes on him anytime.

[Love me, more and more.]

And yet he also insisted that personal hygiene remained a capital matter.

[Love me. Love me, so much that it’s maddening.]

For the umpteenth time, Minami messes with his lipstick. It had started out as it usually did in these situations: out of curiosity he'd probed at the sticky substance spread across his lips in a perfect circle, finding it a little itchy despite the smoothness of the applied cosmetics under his now smeared finger. He doesn't need to look at the mirror to know that he looks like a mess.They haven't even gotten started on his hair for the day, and yet there's no doubt he already makes for a vision in red.

[It’s painful, it hurts.]

Yuuri sighs in fond exasperation by his side, if the telling smile that makes its way to his lips is any giveaway. It sends his heartbeat going at a faster pace, having this smile dedicated to him, and him only in this moment ...

[Undo undo the curse, okay?]

“Hey, isn't that my lipstick?” Yuuri raises an enquiring eyebrow. “The shade looks familiar.”

“It is!” Minami exclaims. “You gave it to me when I first started as your assistant.”

“I did? My, my, was that long ago...” Yuuri muses, hand propped under his chin and inching closer to Minami.

His hand then reaches for Minami's, while the other comes up to carress his jaw in a soft manner. Mnami feels his cheek heat up under his teacher's knuckles.

“I must say, my little one, it suits you very well. Though you probably already knew that.” Minami's breath catches at the compliment and sincere compliment, but he has no time to muster a “thank you” before Yuuri pulls him in for a kiss, and he reacts of his own will once their lips brush. The flavor of the flowery paste invades his mouth and melts with Yuuri's own minty and sweet taste.

“Oh, poppet” Yuuri whispers when they break apart, breathless and panting in each other's ears, “I'll make a bonfire out of that spark of yours.”

[It can’t be stopped.]

Red carries memories and images that Minami shall never forget, the kind burnt in a corner of his brain, always there but never really. The scarlet fringe that falls into his eyes, the sole untainted reminder he has of his dark days. The flames burning in the hearth of Victor Nikiforov's home at every gathering, eternally burning come what may. The blaze shortening his breathing, chocking him, almost licking his body with unbearingly strong heat.

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

He succumbs to darkness in the arms of a dark angel.

He won't die.

Not today.

[It hurts now, it’s not enough now.]

The temporary hair dye has washed away, Minami's once fiery red hair fading back to its original flaming, marigold hue. Though the strands are slowly regaining their strawberry blond shade under the bathroom light, rose liquid still beads on the half fringe falling on his left eye, forming scarlet tears that trickle down his cheek.

[People aren’t people aren’t enough.]

“You'll leave me, won't you?”

[I won’t lose to anyone in my class.]

His sobs are delving into dangerous territory. As much as he wish he could stop that big mouth of his from opening itself and sputter nonsense, he can't stop. What had first been repressed tears have turn to openly hysteric screaming and crying. His throat and face burn under the combination of neon lights and raw anger.

[Aren’t I a lovely good kid?]

“Just say it already! Say it! SAY IT!”

(Hey.)

Yuuri isn't replying – or could it be he isn't here at the moment? The Puppet Master's personality hardly ever strays far away from Yuuri's own, but he knows better than anyone what it takes to get him to blow a fuse.

When his mind comes into focus on this one single thought, Minami's brain shortcircuits. Shit. He just went all out on Yuuri, of all people, in a situation where he wasn't being Yuuri. He suddenly found himself praying for survival.

[More than that kid, more than any kid. Everyone come look at me.]

“Joker...”

“DON'T “JOKER” ME!” Minami snaps, then promptly slaps his hands to his mouth. Oh fuck fuck fuck now he's gone too far now he's lost it and Yuuri's gonna hurt him hurt him hurt him –

“Joker.” Yuuri's hand claps his shoulder in a tight grasp that shakes him awake from his daydreaming.

“My little trickster...c'mere”. Minami finds himself wrapped into Yuuri's arms.

[Was it kind of a lie?]

“Come on over then.” he encourages without force, rubbing his back for good measure in slow, small circles. “Cry all you need, I'm right there for you. I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

Tears stream silently on Minami's cheeks, the sobs building at the back of his throat not to far away now. He succumbs to Yuuri's embrace, burying himself deeper into his hold.

[I like you, you who are so filthy]

“Who am I to you?” Yuuri asks him one day, when they're facing each other.

A thousand words come to mind, interwined in sentences Minami is positive no language can render beautiful or meaningful enough.

His only response, the most logical that comes to mind, is to shrug, giving him his trademark lopsided grin and saying: “What's a Joker without his Queen? I'll tell you.”

He breaks the distance that separates them in a heartbeat, using one of the ropes he'd bought from a joke shop and customized to his taste – a subtle reference that, surprisingly enough, didn't go unnoticed. “Nothing.”

[It’s not enough,]

“Master! Master, look!”

Yuuri sighs. “Puppet, how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“I know, I know, but look, look! I made us assorted cards for my new deck. What do you think?”

Truth be told he had only made two cards to replace their predecessors, but the prospect of aligning the rest of the package with the brand new ones was a tempting project.

The cards are beautiful. Polished and brand new, depicting on one Yuuri's newly acquired indigo costume and Minami's own three-piece, gold and carmine suit; with the exception that Yuuri wore a golden crown encrusted with rubies atop his head, whereas Minami had on a glittery, purple jester cap up on.

Minami rushes to show them to Yuuri, but in his haste he almost flings them straight into his palm, and barely avoids cutting it when –

[you’re not enough.]

Blood oozes from the tiny papercut. Though the cut isn't deep, Minami is close enough to watch the copper fluid beading from the tip of Yuuri's finger. They both stare as his blood seeped from the fingertip and dropped in the middle of Yuuri's own card, now baptized with its inspiration's essence.

[I won’t let go.]

“Yu – Master” he hushes, breath tightening at the back of his throat and forming a ball that threatens to choke him. In his panic he'd almost let out that he knew about his true identity.

[I’m so sorry.]

Yuuri waves him off, smiling reassuringly. “It's fine, Puppet. See? Just a papercut.” Yuuri brings the fingers to his lips, sucking in the trickle of blood descending on his finger. Minami unconsciously holds his breath at the sudden intake of air and fluid, the suction producing an almost inaudible and obscene sound.

“Besides,” Yuuri reflects, coming closer until their faces are inches apart, “I am sure you can make it up to me, can you?”

[This is happiness,]

"Puppet..."

Later on, he drinks in the sight of Yuuri sprawled under him. His lips swollen from kisses, his ruby-coloured lipstick bleeding at the corners of his mouth. Cheeks flush and burning. Skin tattooed with bruises and handprints, soft to the touch and body pliant under his hands.

[This is happiness.]

#yoi harem #yoi villain au #minayuu #yuuri katsuki #minami kenjirou #yuuriharemheadcanons #allollipoppins

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itsiotrecords-blog · 7 years

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Animal traits are often correlated to an animal’s environment, predator avoidance, and mating habits. Often the traits make sense, but here, we explore how natural traits can become totally bizarre. And yet, while bizarre, each one of these traits makes total sense and is 100% beneficial to the animal’s survival.

#1 The Secrets of Hippopotamus Sunscreen The hippopotamus and its little brother, the Pygmy hippopotamus, both have a strange adaptation that may appear highly disturbing at first glance: the ability to apparently sweat blood. In hot weather, these animals can be observed leaking red fluids from their skin, which runs down their body in a highly obvious manner. In fact, this red fluid is not blood, but a sweat-borne chemical composed of two chemically unstable pigments which rapidly polymerize upon exposure to sunlight. This chemical is a powerful natural sunblock, and actually helps to prevent the skin disorders that it looks like it may have resulted from. Thanks to these red and orange pigments — known as “hipposudoric acid” and “norhipposudoric acid” respectively, the nearly bare-skinned animals are well-protected as they forage in the heat of the day.

#2 The Fish with a Penis on its Head In Vietnam, a bizarre freshwater fish aptly named Phallostethus cuulong has been discovered. This bizarre fish stands out with what appears to be a penis attached to its head, in the throat region. Even more disturbing is the presence of barbs that allow the male to grab onto the female. Correspondingly, the female reproductive system is located on the female fish’s throat. There are literally no options for this fish other than face-to-face spawning. Researchers note that the discovery of additional species of “penis chested fish”, with the penis mounted just below the face sheds, little light on the purpose of the adaptation. However, this style of mating seems to be rather efficient. Fewer anatomical constraints are present than one might otherwise expect, as the females lay eggs rather than giving birth to live young.

#3 Nocturnal Gulls “What will they think of next” is a phrase best applied to nature and the processes of natural selection. Surprises abound, not the least of which is the existence of nocturnal gulls. Native to the Galapagos Islands, swallow-tailed gulls have a light body and ash grey hoods. Offset against the color of the head are enormous, pitch dark eyes that serve as a perfect adaptation to the nighttime feeding habits of these gulls. The birds are effective night hunters of small squid found at the ocean surface. No other nocturnal gulls exist. Studies suggest that the gulls match their hunting behavior to moon cycles, with full moons causing prey to stay away from the surface in favor of darker conditions. As a result, these gulls prefer to hunt during duller phases of the moon, when prey is more readily available.

#4 The Sea Lizard Mosasaurs may be extinct, but a sea lizard still lives in the waters of the Galapagos Islands. The Marine Iguana has adopted an oceanic lifestyle in apparent abandonment of the forest-dwelling heritage of the iguana group. With pinks and greens making up its colors, the Marine Iguana reaches over a meter in length, and resembles a beached whale or perhaps a sea lion as it hauls out on the rocks in its coastal habitat. This lizard is a plant eater, and feeds on seaweed as its primary diet. No other member of the lizard family is adapted to the ocean, but the special adaptations of the Marine Iguana make it highly effective in its chosen lifestyle. Salt is shed by cleaner glands, and extruded salt often appears on their heads. Specimens may come in bright pink colors as well as brownish tones.

#5 The Leaf Fish Ambusher South America’s Freshwater Leaf Fish is a member of the perciforme family, which contains more living fish species than any other group. Many of these species are very ordinary, such as bass, shiner perch, and a wide range of rockfish. However, such a vast diversity of species filling a range of environments practically ensures the existence of truly bizarre perch family members. The perch family contains certain species, native to South America, that have mastered the art of mimicry in becoming deadly imposters. Leaf Fish have flattened bodies and underslung jaws that allow them to look like a leaf and float along the river. When fish prey come within reach, these floating leaves will lunge forward and strike the prey, which has almost no chance of escape from the surprise attack. These predators are perfectly adapted as so-called aggressive mimics.

#6 Gerenuk The Gerenuk is an example of nature’s sometimes-makeshift approach to ecological problems. While giraffes have developed great height to feed on trees, the Gerenuk measures just over three feet tall at the shoulder. Although smaller, this bizarre antelope has an extremely long neck that makes it resemble a tiny brown giraffe. If that wasn’t enough, the Gerenuk actually props itself up with its front feet and stands on its hind limbs, reaching a far greater height than any other antelope could. The tongue and sharp teeth are then put to work, stripping leaves off the target plant.

#7 Spiders with Abdominal Horns Whether you hate or admire them, spiders are a creature firmly implanted in the human imagination. Ranging from tiny garden weavers and deadly black widows to enormous, creepy tarantulas, spiders are familiar to us as almost completely round animals with eight legs. But certain members of the Macracantha genus simply defy imagination and set the standard for extreme spiders. Measuring just two centimeters or less, these web-weaving arachnids have enormous horns extending from their abdomen, which ends up resembling the skull of an antelope or long horned cow. Incredibly, each hornlike structure may extend as much as four times the diameter of the spider’s main body section. The purpose of such hornlike ornaments remains an open question to scientists. However, studies of other animals with similarly ridiculous adornments suggest that the horns could serve sexual display purposes, or assist in winning hierarchy and territory disputes among rival spiders.

#8 The Mouth-Peeing Turtle Animals eat with their mouths and pee with their naughty bits — that’s grade school science, right? Or, maybe not. Researchers studying the Chinese Soft-Shelled Turtle observed that the animals actually pee through their mouths. At the University of Singapore, scientists noticed that these turtles would place their heads in water and wiggle their tongues. Rather than drinking, it became clear that these animals were actually releasing urine into the water, through what we all think is the wrong end. Chinese Soft Shelled Turtles also dunk their head in the water to allow gill-like structures in their mouths to secrete the urine. The catch is that water is required, so these animals have to find water to urinate in this manner.

#9 Goblin Shark Once thought to be extinct, the Goblin Shark, native to certain sections of the Atlantic coast, remains one of the most bizarre creatures ever found in the ocean. This mysterious species has been known to reach 3 meters in typical circumstances. However, certain finds suggest the animal may reach much longer, more monstrous lengths of over 2 meters. The Goblin Shark uses its enormous nose, protruding far beyond its jaws to, send out minute electrical fields and sense prey items such as fish and invertebrates. Once prey is detected, the lower jaw shoots out and grasps the prey in a toothy, flesh and bone shearing grip at lightning speed.

#10 The Long-Wattled Umbrellabird In Columbia and Ecuador, one of the most bizarre birds on the planet is found in upland forests known as the Choco. The Long-Wattled Umbrellabird is a member of the Cotinga family, a more primitive group of songbirds with an astonishing variety of body forms and ornaments. The Umbrellabird finds itself at the elite level of Cotinga oddity, with its truly weird mating ornaments. It sports a dangling, flesh-covered wattle or “tube” that hangs from its chest. The wattle inflates with air to the point where the crested bird looks as if it is stuck on a pole. The male bird with the most impressive wattle has a higher success rate in mating routines.

Source: TopTenz

#IoTRecords

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