Nanni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tiamatschild) wrote2012-01-09 09:54 am
tiamatschild) wrote2012-01-09 09:54 am
Entry tags:
Fic: "Lying in a Lee" (T) Discworld
Title: Lying in a Lee
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Fandom: Terry Pratchett's Discworld
Word Count: 500
Rating: T
Characters/Pairing: Glenda Sugarbean / Mr. Nutt
Summary: Nutt craves Glenda's good opinon.
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Notes: For![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo, prompt: Bondage, held down
Lying in a Lee
Nutt had told Glenda once that the Shove became a second blood, humming about him as if it hummed alongside his own veins, the jostle and push promoting a gentle surrender of self. He thought this might be a productive comparison if Glenda wanted him to articulate why he enjoyed her hands on his, holding him authoritiatively in place. Here, in Glenda's massive bed, rolled to the center by the mattress itself, he felt both diffused and concentrated. Glenda kissed him, and kissed him again. He tried to be careful of the raw places at the edges of her mouth where her skin had cracked in the winter air, but she wasn't careful, which made it difficult for him to be.
That was what he wanted – to place himself at Glenda's direction, in Glenda's hands - so Nutt put his worry away and set himself to trust that Glenda knew what she wanted from him, that Glenda would shelter them both.
He felt her heart beating through his hands, where hers were pressed to his, and he felt the volume of her body shift with every breath she took, though she wasn't pressed to him very closely. But he felt the shape of her in the air, he was breathing her breath. She'd his left thigh pinned in place with her right shin and he wished she'd rest more weight on it. It would be all right; she wouldn't hurt him. It was difficult to hurt him in that sense, the physical sense, though he often felt he might shatter in every other.
Not now. Nutt gently squeezed Glenda's hands with his, the press of his fingers against the bones of her palm just above the last knuckles barely enough force to register as firm.
Glenda pulled back, and, despite the concerned crease between her eyebrows, she blushed when she realized he'd been watching her face while they kissed. “Nutt?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
“I am more than all right,” he answered solemnly, because it was an important question, then smiled. He could not have done otherwise. “Thank you for making sure. I am very happy.”
Glenda smiled back, an infrequent gesture from her that made Nutt feel almost like stretching for sheer joy, except she might misinterpret that and think he wanted up. “Yes, I think you've got taller again.”
“Yes. That is why I suggested your bed. I can see that morphic resonance may present some inconveniences.”
“Oh?”
“Well. If we were standing up, I do not think we would find it very comfortable.”
Glenda ducked her head against his shoulder. “No,” she said, her voice shivering with amusement. “No. We wouldn't.”
Nutt let his head tilt back as she kissed him again.
“This,” she said, “was a good idea.”
He wasn't sure if it was the praise or the kiss or her weight on his hands that made his toes curl.
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Fandom: Terry Pratchett's Discworld
Word Count: 500
Rating: T
Characters/Pairing: Glenda Sugarbean / Mr. Nutt
Summary: Nutt craves Glenda's good opinon.
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Notes: For
kink_bingo, prompt: Bondage, held down Lying in a Lee
Nutt had told Glenda once that the Shove became a second blood, humming about him as if it hummed alongside his own veins, the jostle and push promoting a gentle surrender of self. He thought this might be a productive comparison if Glenda wanted him to articulate why he enjoyed her hands on his, holding him authoritiatively in place. Here, in Glenda's massive bed, rolled to the center by the mattress itself, he felt both diffused and concentrated. Glenda kissed him, and kissed him again. He tried to be careful of the raw places at the edges of her mouth where her skin had cracked in the winter air, but she wasn't careful, which made it difficult for him to be.
That was what he wanted – to place himself at Glenda's direction, in Glenda's hands - so Nutt put his worry away and set himself to trust that Glenda knew what she wanted from him, that Glenda would shelter them both.
He felt her heart beating through his hands, where hers were pressed to his, and he felt the volume of her body shift with every breath she took, though she wasn't pressed to him very closely. But he felt the shape of her in the air, he was breathing her breath. She'd his left thigh pinned in place with her right shin and he wished she'd rest more weight on it. It would be all right; she wouldn't hurt him. It was difficult to hurt him in that sense, the physical sense, though he often felt he might shatter in every other.
Not now. Nutt gently squeezed Glenda's hands with his, the press of his fingers against the bones of her palm just above the last knuckles barely enough force to register as firm.
Glenda pulled back, and, despite the concerned crease between her eyebrows, she blushed when she realized he'd been watching her face while they kissed. “Nutt?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
“I am more than all right,” he answered solemnly, because it was an important question, then smiled. He could not have done otherwise. “Thank you for making sure. I am very happy.”
Glenda smiled back, an infrequent gesture from her that made Nutt feel almost like stretching for sheer joy, except she might misinterpret that and think he wanted up. “Yes, I think you've got taller again.”
“Yes. That is why I suggested your bed. I can see that morphic resonance may present some inconveniences.”
“Oh?”
“Well. If we were standing up, I do not think we would find it very comfortable.”
Glenda ducked her head against his shoulder. “No,” she said, her voice shivering with amusement. “No. We wouldn't.”
Nutt let his head tilt back as she kissed him again.
“This,” she said, “was a good idea.”
He wasn't sure if it was the praise or the kiss or her weight on his hands that made his toes curl.