#he's so lonely please give him a family that will actually love and cherish him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

8aji · 1 year

Text

i think you're so good and i'm nothing like you. // i.k.

pairing: Izana Kurokawa x reader

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: No matter how hard you try to make the wrong puzzle pieces fit, there's always going to be a gap between the edges — or, Izana thinks the differences are too jarring and he’s not worth the effort.

tags/cw: hurt/comfort, insecure!izana, alluded rich!reader, very descriptive language; pls let me know if im missing anything

a/n: so this was supposed to be part of the little ask game i did a long while ago, full fic format bc word count plus the effort i put into this, the style is a little out of my comfort zone ngl :) thank you so much to my beloved @tetsutits for betaing as well as @thelastoreo and @mosviqu my beloveds for giving me lots n lots of input as well :D

m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni

Never will the warm glow of the sun setting behind rows upon rows of blooming grapevines, not take his breath away. It was so close yet so far; he swore he could touch it just by extending his hand. Even from afar, it felt warm against his tan skin, kissing his body with a warmth similar to the one he felt when he laid beside you.

Despite his aversion to being alone, or more accurately his aversion to being lonely, sometimes he needed the alone time to ground himself and think. You knew that, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear the crunching of gravel underneath your sandals as you took slow yet steady steps, the same way you would approach a scared kitten. Still, though your presence usually brought comfort and calmness, he couldn’t help but feel the way his heart picked up speed inside his chest, each beat anxiously vibrating harder and harder against his ribcage.

“Dinner's almost ready, ‘was looking for you.” Your voice, soft and sweet, coated with just a hint of the Cabernet Sauvignon your family loved to share; wine more expensive than the life insurance he did not have. He could feel how his heart picked up speed inside his chest, each beat vibrating harder and harder against his ribcage, at the sound of your voice. “You okay?”

He could feel his throat knotting up, swallowing up the scream he so desperately wanted to let out. It made him feel like a teenager again, crying after he found out his brother ‘wasn't’ actually his brother; his vocal cords were on fire as tears poured from his eyes, and though they were camouflaged by the cool rain, they fell scorching hot, burning his cheeks like acid.

And now he was here, standing with his back facing you as he tried to figure out the best way to prevent all those bottled-up thoughts from spilling out. And he knows, he is well fucking aware that communication is this and communication is that, and communication is important, otherwise, he was going to drown trying to escape the endless sea made up of his own thoughts, but he wouldn’t. He’d rather see his lungs well up with salt water than talk about the insecurities nipping at his skull.

He wouldn’t allow himself to ruin this, not after learning what it felt like to be loved and cherished and wanted. Not after making promise after promise, not after planning everything down to a t, after your family had oh-so-gracefully offered one of their properties in Tuscany as venue and had everyone flown down to Italy for a whole week.

He couldn’t do that to you.

And yet he did. Coaxed by the warmth of your hand against his as it rested on top of the railing overlooking the vineyard.

“I feel like I don’t belong.” He swallowed.

“Iz—“

“Just,” he pleaded, finally plucking the courage to talk about what had been bothering him ever since he got here. “Please, just let me finish.”

You nodded, knowing he wouldn’t continue until he got your reassurance.

“There’s, um, there’s this voice in the back of my head just telling me over and over again that there's something wrong, that I shouldn't be here, and the more I think about it, the more it makes sense,”

“You’re smart and funny and kind, and people love you and you managed to befriend my godawful broth— step-brother, how did you even do that? He’s so annoying, but that's beside the point, you're so good, too good,

“And if what everyone keeps saying is true, that the ‘opposites attract’ theory can only be proven right by looking at us, if— if we’re complete opposites then that means I’m even worse than bad, it means I’m awful, pathetic, I–”

He lets out a heavy sigh, raking his free hand through his slightly overgrown locks. His lips were pursed into a tight line, he bit into his cheek as if the slight pain would refrain his eyes from misting. You don’t move despite the urge to hold him close, you knew he wasn't done.

“I’d like to tell myself that it isn't true, but I’m not the only one who thinks that, some of the people here can’t help but look down on me, and they're not even subtle about it,"

“I know your dad doesn't like me at all,” he let out a dry laugh; to lighten the mood or encourage himself, you didn't know. “Remember when we had dinner together for the first time? He couldn't even believe we went to the same college,"

“Everything’s just a constant reminder that no matter where I am, no matter where I go, I’m just meddling,"

“I meddled my way into the Sano family, I meddled into a friend group that probably hates me, and now I’m meddling into yours, into your life!"

“And it's so confusing because I feel so good when I’m with you, I feel like I'm home and like I’m safe and like everything's gonna be alright,” he turned to you, locking gazes despite his eyes being swallowed by tears he could no longer contain; he looked so small, so fragile in a way he always was but never showed. “And I know it’s selfish to want to keep you, but I just can't help but feel that you’re making a mistake by choosing me.”

Eyes heavy with sorrow, you’re sure he was holding back his breath waiting for a response; the tightness in his chest at the lack of oxygen less painful than another—though unlikely still possible—rejection. After the dramatic monologue exposing his feelings of inadequacy and insecurity he’s sure you’d call the whole thing over before it can even start. Don’t get him wrong, he’s shared his fair amount of emotional baggage and not once did you cast him aside because of it. In fact, every time he talked to you about whatever it was that plagued his mind he couldn’t help but feel your worry. It was like you had the utmost necessity to sew his wounds back together, kiss the ragged skin in the process. He trusted you like no other, and yet, though he can acknowledge the irrationality of his thought pattern, he can't help but indulge it, let the thoughts feed on his brain until his skull is rotten and empty.

He could feel his heart crack once he felt the warmth of your skin slipping away, like a cruel premonition whispering your departure. The urge to apologise burned inside his chest and the words, bitter like bile, settled at the bottom of his throat.

“You’re not a mistake,” cupping his face in between your hands, you gingerly wipe the stray tears rolling down his cheeks. Your words were soft like silk as they tried to mend the cracks in his heart, sprinkle them with gold. The gentleness made his eyes well up with tears once again, sobs bubbling up in his throat and threatening to escape. “You’ll never be a mistake,”

Too weak, too fragile, your warm palm against his bare skin, your touch silently whispering that he was safe, that everything was going to be okay; the shimmer in your eyes, the softness of your reassuring smile, it’s enough for him to break. He cries against your body, holding you tight between his arms as if you might disappear once he lets go. He coughs through ragged breaths, choking on his own sorrows and, in spite of the uncontrollable crying, he’s able to focus on your touch, raking your fingers through his hair and leaning your cheek against his head to give him some sort of grounding weight.

“You’re my one and only,” you whisper, holding his trembling body impossibly closer with as much desperation, as if you too, thought he might disappear. You place a tender kiss on the side of his head, softly rocking the both of you in your place until the heart-wrenching sobs turn into soft sniffles. “And I promise you,” nuzzling your cheek against his hair, you almost stumble over your own words, like pressing a freshly formed bruised, the rawness in your chest makes you internally flinch in hesitation. But it’s Izana who you’re talking to, and if anyone deserved to know the sheer importance of their existence, it was him. “Forever and always, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be yours the same way you’re mine.”

You stayed like that for a while, in each others’ arms, even after the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, the sky now a mix of pinks and purples and orangy hues. His breathing had evened out by now and had the both of you not been standing, you would’ve sworn he had fallen asleep. That was until he raised his head, with his eyes still tightly shut, and leaned his forehead against yours, “Thank you for loving me.”

You pecked his lips, softly rubbing your nose against his, making a wobbly smile break through his lips. “And thank you for loving me.”

The tender moment is broken by an incoming call, the sweet melody of an acoustic guitar as your ringtone makes him melt even more; it was him playing. He could hear both of your soft giggles in the background, and he remembers very well that one time you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning when you recorded him playing in secret and then had a playfight over your phone to delete the video. You didnt delete it, and it surprised him you still kept it as your ringtone after all this time.

“Dinner’s ready now, we should get going,” you sigh, looking from your phone screen up at him, before tilting your head to the side and using your fingers to trail the edge of one of his earlobes, making him shiver in the process. “Right, ‘saw you left your earrings on the bedside table, why?”

“I– your dad doesn't like them very much.”

“Don’t listen to him, my dad doesn't like anything,” you half-joke, a hint of truth staining your words. “Can I put them on for you?”

From the pocket of your shorts you pull out the pair of hanafuda earrings, and he nods, shivering as your fingers delicately close the clasps.

“There you go,” you smile, making his cheek warm up as you check him out; your adoration for him clear in your eyes. “Pretty as always.”

#master collection.#tr collection.#Izana x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa fluff #izana fluff #izana kurokawa x you #izana x you #tr fluff #tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff

263 notes · View notes

deer333teeth · 1 year

Text

Letter to the man I used to spend all my morning smoke breaks talking to. He was an old retired veteran, and I’d get to take a break from steaming micro foam into milk pitchers and breathe. I pet his dog Jose and he’d tell me all about his life back in the war and long haul trucking across the country. Life in Carolina and California and everywhere in between.

Dear Robert and Jose,

I hope the last few months have treated you well! I hope you know I think about you all the time. I really miss talking to you and petting Jose. I really cherished the time we spent together. I always looked forward to seeing you two, and I miss it whenever it’s 9:45 in the morning. I loved all your stories, and I hope you never stop telling them. I hope you and Jose are both doing good. Please give him an extra pat and treat for me.

I’ve been loving ______. The autumn is breathtaking as all the leaves turn shades and fall. I’ve met so many kind and loving people at my university. I applied to join a research lab for an extra credit and got accepted! They were only taking on two new members, so I’m very grateful they chose me. It’s called the _____, which stands for __________________. This year my team is investigating how religion and power intersect with gender and sexuality. I’m learning so much about things I actually care about, and I get to spend time with so many inspiring and wonderful people. I’m the only freshman in the whole lab, so sometimes I feel a bit small or too young, but I know they must have chosen me for a reason. I just hope I can start to see that reason too soon. I’m definitely happier here than I was with my family at home though, so I’m trying to hold on to awareness of how far I’ve come. I’ll be coming home for Christmas break from dec. 16 - Jan. 16, so I hope to see you again soon if you’d like!

How have you been? Have you met any new people? Gone any new places? Made any warm memories? How are your neighbors? Is the man who always cries doing any better? I hope he is. I took the train down to _____ to see my best friend Sophie. We went to tons of parks and forests and hiking trails for when she gets a dog. Where are Jose’s favorite places to go? My dogs love the beach, although Poppy always turns her back on the ocean no matter how many times a wave runs into her. I miss them.

Time moves insanely fast in college. I used to spend all my days wishing for them to end, waiting to get out. Now I just wish my days could be longer. Wish I had more time. Maybe it’s because I’m happier, maybe I’m just getting older. I asked my grandma if it ever slows down again. She laughed and said it only gets faster. She said i was basically just born. Sometimes I feel like I was just born, too. Sometimes I feel all too young, and sometimes I feel all too old. I think hurt has made me old, helped me understand people and emotions and processes well. But I still feel young and naive and overwhelmed about everything else. How have you been feeling lately? Fast or slow? Young or old? Lonely or crowded? Either way, we’ll figure it out soon. Hope to hear from you (and see you!) soon.

- R. A.

#my writing #letters #mine

1 note · View note

threehousing · 1 year

Note

please tell me more about annette's mom and uncle having an affair this is hilarious lkfjglfdjglkdjl did he sang serenades to her did they have long walks on the beach did she gift him an embroidered handkerchief for him to keep in his breast pocket always

OKAY OKAY

so, Gustave's runs away to the church for what? Ten years? And before that, like Annette says (in her support with Dimitri I think?) he's not around much bc he's busy at Fhirdiad anyway.

And Annette and her mother stay with her dad's brother, the baron -- who explicitly tells Gustave he'll look after his wife:

(Image descs. in alt texts)

(oh you "swear" you'll "protect her", do you? 🤨😳)

And obviously this means nothing in reality, bc that's his sister in law so makes sense he's giving her somewhere to live while his brother neglects his family duties. BUT NEVERTHELESS I don't think it's a stretch to imagine something might have happened between Baron Dominic and Mama Dominic (rip the mothers of Fodlan god i wish you had names).

Like, picture this. Your husband has abandoned you and your daughter (possibly with no word? I don't remember if he actually tells anyone where he's gone and that he's chaged his name?). You're worried for your future -- any income from his job is a knight is gone, the Dominics don't own much land, and they're in we-have-no-money-and-our-land-is-cold-Faerghus, so the family of the 2nd brother probably isn't mega flushed with cash. Then, your daughter announces she wants to go to the School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad, so you'll be alone too. Lonely and uncertain about your future.

BUT. Your kindly brother in law, who looks reasonably similar to his brother, swoops in and tells you: hey, don't worry! You can stay with me! I'll fund your daughter's academics! I'll look after you both!! I'm sorry my brother's a deadbeat dad!

So he's got those features that attracted you to your husband. He's sweet, he's reassuring, he's offering you safety. Maybe he's not married? Maybe the spouse isn't in the picture? So you inevitably get pretty comfortable with him. Pretty close to this kind man who's been so good to you and such a rock in this storm. ARE YOU GONNA ACCIDENTALLY BE REALLY INTO THIS MAN? THIS DASHING HERO WHO SWOOPED IN TO SAVE YOU? MAYBE SO.

Like. What did he mean by this. What did he mean by this, hm Baron Dominic? Is that reason, maybe, the lovely and buxom ms dominic who u have, over these past ten years, fallen very much in love with? Do you maybe have a little resentment towards your brother for leaving her for so long? For throwing her away like that? Maybe enough resentment to feel comfortable enough raising your blade against him? Well.

They OF COURSE had long walks along the beach. Maybe they visit the Rhodos Coast when Annette's at the school of sorcery. Maybe he serenades her on the sands, maybe he praises her fortitude and beauty. Maybe, when Annette skips off to the Officer's Academy, Mama Dominic finally feels like she doesn't have to hide the truth from her daughter, so she feels safe enough to embroiders their initials onto a pretty little handkerchief for the baron to keep in his breast pocket, like two moonstruck teenagers. MAYBE THEY FOUND COMFORT IN EACH OTHER.

Also I just think this is so funny and awkward for Annette. Like, she has no idea until she comes back home after the battle at GM. This has been going on for several years and she was like, completely clueless bc she's been BUSY yknow, studying. So she rocks up back at home (putting aside the probable trauma from the whole. beginning of a war thing. bc that actually makes this quite sad and i'm going for levity rn) AND HER MUM AND UNCLE HAVE SHACKED UP LIKE. Just lets herself back in only to see her mother and uncle just sharing a lil kissy in the drawing room. babe i am so, deeply sorry. An extra trauma you don't need actually

Also, I know that Mama Dominic has game. I know in my heart that she does. She deserves to be cherished and get laid i think.

#annette dominic #storm.txt #why did i ramble so much here shyd im so sorry aksdjghkjsg #i am gonn be using this in my time skip fic tho. for sure. this has given me insp for the annette part lmaoooo #rip annette fantine dominic sorry babe #ALSO i think annette mentions a cousin in thropes??? so either he's married nd this would be a doubel affair (not what im going for)#or spouse is deceased in this scenario #in which case rip x2 for annette's cousin too #hey tumblr why’d u keep deleting the last para

8 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)

You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive. It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.

If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them. It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.

For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex. But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand. In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically. He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family. You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.

You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.

And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks. Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again. Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.

So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival. Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.

The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English. Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.

Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.

Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment. You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.

The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different. He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.

You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms. Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.

“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.

He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him. As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you. No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.

But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner. His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.

“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.

“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side. “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”

“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.

“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.

Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs. Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.

Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap. You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?

Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.

“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”

“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.

“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.

“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.

“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck.

“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.

“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder. You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.

“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.

“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.

James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.

“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you. “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”

The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.

“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued. “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least? Always by my side… like any good pet.”

A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly. You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him. But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.

James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.

“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal. “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”

“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.

“You want more, don’t you? Tako očajno…” he chuckled. You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips. “You want to be fucked, yes?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.

Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.

James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.

He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.

“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.

“Yes I do,” you denied. “Because he told me to.”

Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip. You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.

You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.

“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.

Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.

You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.

“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.

“N-no, please,” he blurted out.

“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go. You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.

“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”

“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him. But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant. “You find them attractive, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like. And tasted like.”

Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).

You looked at Sam expectantly. “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”

His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track. “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.

“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”

His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into. You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted. “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”

Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.

Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.

“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.

“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare. Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove. “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.

You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”

Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.

Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate. And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.

He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.

“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth. “Fuck, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.

You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.

“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples. “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock. I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”

As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.

“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.

“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.

Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting. “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two. And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected. “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance. It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.

That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see. Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side. But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.

He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long. “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”

“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.

He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress. “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.

Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.

The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.

“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”

“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.

“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.

You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.

“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come. You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you. “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.

You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers. “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.

Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste. You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.

He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression. They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.

"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.

"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.

All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option. He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly. Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?

“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.

“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.

“Good girl.”

But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep. You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.

“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.

“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned. "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."

“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”

You felt him nod against the back of your neck. “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you. Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.

The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him. He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.

"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?

"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.

It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years. Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.

///

dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi = добродошла назад, љубави = “welcome home, love”

lutka = лутка = “doll”

draga = драга = “dear/beloved”

tako očajno = тако очајно = "so desperate"

tako dobro = тако добро = "so good"

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes smut #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sambucky x reader #tfatws fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

therealvinelle · 3 years

Text

Carlisle wouldn’t want to be human

This really goes for most of the Cullens, Rosalie excepted (I think Edward would last one day without his telepathy and superpowers before this happened (well honestly I think his denial would keep him from ever admitting this but this isn’t an Edward post so we’re cutting this thought short right now before it spirals)), but I see both Edward and general fandom just sort of take it for granted that if anyone offered Carlisle a miraculous human again pill (and I’m just picturing that as some hokey pill being sold on ad TV) he’d praise Jesus and swallow that down immediately, and I’ve to see anybody argue with that so here I go.

First of, if Carlisle were to suddenly find himself human again I have every belief that Aro would materialize and go, “My dear Carlisle has been made a human? How tragic! Never fear, old friend, I’ll fix that for you. Om nom nom.” and then Carlisle would not be human. And I’m only half joking when I say that, because Carlisle has a lot of friends, and while his animal diet is all well and good, if he were to actually do something like this they’d be very sad his human obsession has gone too far and stage an intervention. “We’re doing this because we love you, Carlisle. Now please try not to be too delicious. Om nom nom.” And then we’re back to Carlisle being a vampire again, though with slightly longer hair this time.

More seriously, if Carlisle was offered this miracle pill, then as a doctor he’d probably be less than enthused about it. He was there to see what happened to the Native Americans when the Europeans came carrying brand new disease, and after viruses and bacteria have had 350 years and a globalized planet to evolve, our seventeenth century priest is going to be in trouble. He’s unvaccinated to boot. He also has a completely different intestinal bacterial flora than modern humans do, which I imagine would not be fun for his digestion. This guy would be a sickly, constipated mess.

As for the main reason - why would Carlisle ever want to be human?

Before he’d mastered his thirst, then he’d probably feel obligated to. For as long as he hadn’t mastered it there was always the risk of him losing control and killing somebody. In his early days he certainly would have jumped on the chance. But none of this is a problem anymore.

So, to take the reasons why he wouldn’t say yes in the present day - first of, why would he not want to be a vampire? He is past worrying about his thirst. His vampirism is at this point purely an asset to him. It makes him great at his job. All his friends and family are vampires. If he were to become human again, he’d not just suddenly suck at his job (as I imagine he has incorporated his super senses into his work to the point where he would pretty much have to learn everything anew if he still wanted to be a doctor), his brain would be slow and limited, and he could never see his cherished friends, people he has known for centuries, again. He’d have to start over with another fake identity in a new place, and sure, this time he could stay until he died of old age, but he’d still be lying to everybody he met about his identity. Carlisle is very much a social butterfly, and he’d be unable to form meaningful friendships when he could never get truly personal with anybody.

In other words, Carlisle would be signing himself up for a lonely life of being average if not bad at his work. And his work is incredibly important to him.

Then there’s the fact that as a doctor, modern viruses aside, when it comes to health problems Carlisle has seen it all. He would know better than everybody that even if the modern viruses don’t make him a sickly mess, even if he doesn’t join the statistics of people who die in tragic accidents, he could still get a brain aneurism at the age of 24 and his human LARP is over. And who knows, maybe he had some nasty disease lurking in his DNA just waiting to ruin his life had he lived long enough, such as ALS. But assuming that Carlisle says “I’LL RISK IT”, even if he makes it to an older age, aging is no joke. Dementia, gout, incontinence, the general and inevitable decline of his body - this is the looming shadow hanging over all our heads. For an immortal who has seen countless humans succumb to it, why choose this?

And for what?

So he could have kids of his own, presumably with Esme?

He has a whole family. Rosalie and Edward especially are his children. Just, this guy loves his whole family so much, I can’t imagine he’d throw them aside in favor of some faceless toddler concept. I also don’t think he’d even want kids of his own, but I think that’s for another post. And also mostly a vibe.

So he could grow old with Esme?

Again - why? She’d be just as much an outcast as he, and face all the same health risks (except I suppose for the modern viruses, she hasn’t been dead for that long). I can’t imagine he’d want to sit idly by and watch her either die ahead of schedule, or live long enough to become unable to care for herself.

Then there’s the fact that at most he’d have six or seven decades. To him, that’s just the blink of an eye. And, again, a very unpleasant blink where he loses everything, is less intelligent, and slowly dies.

Lastly there’s the fact that the human he was is dead, his time has passed. Carlisle doesn’t belong in the human world any longer. He interacts with it because helping humans gives him joy and meaning in life, but he’s a man out of his time and this brave new world is not the one he once lived in. He would not in any way belong, and I think he knows that quite well.

Just, the whole idea that Carlisle would want this is founded on Carlisle having some sort of innate worship of humans where being human is inherently better. I’m sorry, but that’s Edward. If Carlisle felt this way, he wouldn’t be turning others into vampires, and he wouldn’t have vampire friends all over the globe. To him, thirst isn’t a problem, and his vampirism means he can save more humans than he otherwise would. The remaining concern would be God, but Carlisle’s life philosophy is that being a vampire is not by itself a sin, so he’s fine in that regard too.

In summation, I think Carlisle is quite happy being a vampire, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

#carlisle cullen #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #note on the intestinal bacterial flora #a study was done on an african tribe whose members were eating the same food as their ancestors had for thousands of years #and a group of regular americans #they switched diets #and the african tribesmembers' gut flora was noticeably decreased after just a few weeks #and as far as i remember this was irreversible change #while the modern americans did not have noticeable change #so if i understand that correctly then this might not be such a big problem for carlisle #but it's still food for thought #and i imagine the transition period would suck #he'd probably just take the easy way out and eat unprocessed organic food #be that hipster #vegan vampire and hipster human #... i'm quitting this 'carlisle's indigestion combat tactics' tag spiral #before it gets weirder #point is this guy would lose everything #he could never see his friends again #and in exchange he gets to give a forced smile and say 'yay. i'm human. yayy...'

345 notes · View notes

millllenniawrites · 3 years

Text

enchanted (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part one of dear love of mine

summary: The last thing you wanted was to fall in love. That was your sisters’ job, to marry and have a small army of children for your mother to dote on. But when the man courting your eldest sister brings a mysterious guest to stay with your family for the summer, you may not have a say in the matter.

words: 1.5k

warnings: afab!reader; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: the series i’ve been talking about for months is finally here!! Totally was supposed to post this yesterday but I forgot. I started outlining this after reading @writefightandflightclub ’s Regency Femdom Week 2020 fic Of Rears and Vices and watching Bridgerton was like taking steroids so here you go!! I haven’t done an actual series in a long time so i’m super stoked about this whole thang. this is a short chapter cause I want you guys to get to know the universe and the characters but the next few are gonna take some time because they are long bois

You sat at the window, looking down at the long drive that led up to your estate. Lord Barnes was supposed to arrive before lunch and, though your stomach rumbled, you didn’t take your eyes off the horizon.

“You’re almost more nervous than I am.” Ana called.

You blinked quickly to allow your eyes a moment to adjust from the bright light outside to the dim interior of her room. Your sister stood in the doorway, her hair glinting in the sunlight. Her blue dress complimented her features and, even without the sun, you were sure she would have been glowing.

“You remember that I’m the one he’s courting, right?” Her slippered feet whispered against the floor as she crossed the room, hopping up into the window seat across from you.

“Of course I remember.” You flailed your leg out, striking her in the shin with your foot. “It’s only the happiest day of my dear sister’s life.”

She tossed a scrap of paper into your lap. On it, scrawled in a neat print, was yet another declaration of love from the strapping Lord Barnes for your sister.

You read aloud, “My dearest, Ana, how I do miss your gaze. The stars here are truly incomparable, having seen your eyes— Is this what men think is charming?!”

She snatched the paper from your hands. “I think it’s charming!”

As you laughed, you snorted, sending her into a fit of giggles right alongside you.

“I really do think he’s going to propose this time, Ana. And you know I’m happy for you.”

The summer prior, Lord Barnes had been in town on business, settling assets after the tragic death of his father. To distract himself from his mourning, he had begun going door to door, learning the names of the people who lived in the county he had so suddenly inherited.

Ana had not stopped talking about him since and, if his letters were any indication, he was just as charmed as she was.

“Of course I know that.” She turned around, flopping herself back into your lap. “You also know that by my marrying Lord Barnes, I’m helping you secure a suitable match.”

“A suitable match!” You couldn’t help but laugh again. “For Siena, yes. For me?”

“You cannot keep your nose in those books forever! I cannot let you. Don’t you think you’ll get lonely in this big house all by yourself?”

“A marriage would simply hand over our family’s legacy to whatever man decided to sign the papers. I do not think that is what Father would have wanted.”

She rested her elbows on your legs and leaned her chin onto her palms. “I think Father would have wanted you to be happy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved your poor sister out of your lap and onto the floor. She landed with a soft grunt and a flurry of skirts and immediately tried to clamber back into your arms.

Ana loved to remind you that you would be tasked with taking care of the family property once your mother passed. She had seen it as such a burden that, even as the eldest of three girls, your parents had decided she could pass on the responsibility. Siena, the youngest of the three Dean daughters, was just as enamoured with the idea of marriage as Ana was, so the future of the estate had passed to you without complaint. Their wish was to be romanced and married. Yours was stability. And with your father gone, your mother wasn’t about to keep any of you from your true wishes.

Siena was in her room, no doubt pruning and prepping for the arrival of Lord Barnes — it didn’t matter that she wasn’t the sister he was coming to visit, she had reminded you — and you did miss her presence as you and Ana shoved at each other and grappled for her letter. It was moments like this was you cherished, knowing that soon, handsome men would arrive and sweep your sisters away. Your house would be left empty of two of the most precious things you had ever beholden.

“Girls!” Your mother shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You and Ana squished yourself together in the window seat. A dark carriage had begun it’s way up your drive.

“Girls!” She shouted again. “Come down here!”

You and Ana raced out of her bedroom and down the long staircase. Both out of breath by the time you reached the bottom, you clutched each other.

Your mother and Siena stood side by side, their arms crossed. They were mirrors of each other, their coiled hair pinned into place and eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

Siena turned her nose up at your giggling, but you could see a glint of playfulness in her eye. Though she tried to appear sophisticated, her twelve-year-old spirit wasn’t easily quelled, much to your mother’s dismay.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get married, sister?” Siena’s voice was soft, more like silk than sound.

“He hasn’t proposed yet. You needn’t be so serious.” She skated over to Siena and wrapped her arms around her sister’s middle, swinging her around.

“And when the Lord Barnes proposes, Ana will be quick to get ready. Just you watch.” Your mother winked at you before grabbing Ana’s arm, pulling her off Siena. “They are about to arrive. Go look presentable.” She shooed both your sisters towards the front doors before limping along behind them.

Mister Kirk, your family’s butler, stood off to one side. He was a thin man, the grey hair atop his head so thick that it looked as thought he might topple over at a moment’s notice.

You nodded your head to him. “Thank you for the work you’ve done setting up for our guest, Mr. Kirk.”

“It is my job, Miss Dean.” He said softly. Your sisters would have teased you about the fondness in Mister Kirk’s face had they been there, but the opening of the front doors had thoroughly distracted them. “And it is guests, Miss. More than just Lord Barnes is set to join us for the summer.”

You cocked your head but didn’t dare say more. It must have been a new development. Why else would your mother not share this with you?

You didn’t wait for Mister Kirk to elaborate, heading towards the open doors of your home.

The carriage pulled up right in front of the steps. A footman hopped down from the back of the carriage, setting a stool out before opening the door.

Lord Finneas Barnes stepped out of his carriage, grinning up at your family. “Hello Ladies Dean!” He called, waving grandly.

You all curtsied, a chorus of ‘Hello Lord Barnes’ causing his smile to widen further. “There’s no need for the formalities. Please. Call me Finn.”

Everything about him was refined, down to the buckles of his shoes. His dark hair had been done in waves, tight to his head, giving him the impression of wearing a crown. And he walked like it. His smile was sweet, but everything else about him oozed boldness and masculinity.

You could have sworn Ana nearly swooned beside you. A curious mischief glittered behind her eyes.

When you looked back to the carriage, another figure was stepping through the door.

The stranger tossed his head, his thick curls bouncing back away from his eyes to reveal his sharp features. He was dressed in blue, clearly a military uniform. Various pins on the front of his coat winked in the sunlight. His dark eyes quickly took in your family waiting on the steps and his dark eyes stalled when he reached you. Mouth quirking in a slight smile that had your heart racing, his gaze passed on.

The two men ascended the steps. Your mother curtsied again, the rest of you following behind her.

You could not take your eyes off the mysterious gentleman.

“This is General Dameron, I presume?” Your mother asked.

“The one and only,” Lord Barnes boasted, clapping the gentleman — General Dameron — on the back.

The General bowed. “Thank you for hosting us while the Barnes estate is renovated, Lady Dean. Your invitation for me to join Finn here was the best surprise I’ve had since the Coast.”

The Coast. You vaguely remembered hearing about the war from the girls in town last summer. They’d had brothers and fathers go to fight — and come back victorious, if your memory served you — but as your household was of only girls, you hadn’t been particularly invested in the news of battles that did not impact your family.

“It’s not a problem.” You heard your mother say.

Ana griped your arm, viciously whispering, “He’s quite handsome,” before dragging you back into the house.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the General and your mother politely discussing something — the topic of conversation could have been the weather for all you heard of it. It was as if your ears had been stuffed with cotton.

The General’s dark eyes met yours again and your breath caught. You tore your gaze away, snapping your head around to face forward.

It would be the last you’d see of him for the rest of the day.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #regency au #star wars #oscar isaac fic #mywriting #dear love of mine

194 notes · View notes

professorrw · 3 years

Text

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Two (The End)

Warnings: FLUFF, smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows

A/N: It’s the last chapter!!!! This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever posted on anything and I can’t believe how well it’s done! I also just hit 100 followers on here too! Thank you to everyone that’s read this series, I genuinely hope you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be tagged in future works message me or comment what franchise or character you want to be tagged in and I’ll add you!

As the winter holidays arrived, the castle found itself empty. Students departed to be with family, leaving only a handful behind with the teachers. Snow covered the castle and it's grounds, creating a winter wonderland for those that remained. The weather was extremely cold, although beautiful at the same time. Most stayed inside though, relaxing near a fire while drinking from hot mugs.

Students and teachers alike switched to casual attire for the holidays. Everyone in the castle was wrapped up in thick sweaters, trying to keep cozy. On Christmas night the Great Hall was lit with hundreds of candles, illuminating the room with a warm glow. Christmas trees, decorated with ornaments and garlands, lined the walls. For the few people that remained, a feast of turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, and other enticing items appeared on the tables.

Teachers ditched formalities and moved to sit with the students, who had all joined at the Gryffindor table. Since Voldemort's death, dislike and prejudice between houses had dwindled. Many of the former Death Eaters' children didn't return to school so most Slytherins were innocent students that just happened to be placed there. You, Remus, and Minerva chatted with Luna, who was going on about the new things her father had planned for the Quibbler.

Hermione and Ginny both decided to go to the Burrow to celebrate the holidays. Like you, they were both in new relationships. Just as you predicted, Harry and Ginny got back together, and Hermione and Ron finally confessed their feelings for one another. A while after the battle Hermione informed you of the impromptu kiss between her and Ron which caused them to realize their mutual feelings.

Harry and Ron were both starting their training to become Aurors, which made Hermione feel better that they weren't attending school. Things were moving forward in the blink of an eye. The battle felt like it was just yesterday, yet it had been more than half a year. It was nearly foreign to you that things could be calm for this long, but this was the new normal.

Remus squeezed your hand under the table. You smiled fondly at him as he began to stroke the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation made your whole body go fuzzy, that was the effect Remus had on you, even now. Over a year ago you both departed from the Burrow to be safe. Who would have known things would end up like this?

Even with the small crowd, dinner lasted longer than usual. Almost everyone was spending more time socializing than actually trying to eat. There was no need to be in a hurry, so you and your fellow teachers enjoyed the company of each other and the students.

Over an hour after the feast started, people began to leave the Great Hall and head to wherever they pleased. You and Remus were the last remaining in the Hall. You were about to leave as well when Remus stopped you, tugging on your hand to get your attention.

"Let's go on a walk."

It was lightly snowing outside and was getting dark, but the street lamps of Hogsmeade were wrapped in twinkling lights. The shops were open, allowing lone witches and wizards to stop by for something to drink and someone to talk to on Christmas. You had added gloves and a scarf to your already warm outfit and Remus had done the same. No matter how beautiful it was, you didn't want to catch a cold out there.

You and Remus strolled past the storefronts and stopped a little ways away from the end of the path. The light from the street lamps created a soft glow on Remus' face as he gazed at you. Your fingers of one of your hands were intertwined with Remus' and he brought that hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against your gloved knuckles.

You couldn't help but notice how quiet he was being. He didn't speak too much normally but as you walked he didn't talk and he still wasn't.

"Remus are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"I've been through a lot in my life yet, I would go through it all again if this were the outcome. Being with you... is all I could ever wish for. You are the light in my dark life. I have lost so much, so many people. Never again will I waste the time I have with the people I love. Y/N I know we haven't been together long, but you are everything to me. I would be a fool to not do this."

Remus stops talking and gets down on his knee. You're filled with emotions as you realize what's happening. He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and opens it in front of you. Inside lies the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

"Y/N Y/L/N, I promise to always be by your side, no matter the circumstances. I want to be yours for the rest of time. I will cherish every moment spent with you as if it were my last. Will you marry me?"

You sink on your knees and wrap your arms around Remus. Tears stream from your eyes as he returns the embrace. "Of course I will."

He gives you a long kiss before taking your hand in his. He pulls the glove off your hand and slips the ring on your finger. Everything felt so perfect. Nothing could possibly make this moment more special. No words could describe the pure joy you felt.

......

The next few months leading up to your wedding was a whirlwind. You and Mrs. Weasley corresponded daily making arrangements leading up to the wedding in June. You and Remus agreed you wanted to get married as soon as possible.

You sat in your bedroom with Hermione and Ginny, your maids of honor. They were dressed in beautiful champagne colored dresses that you picked out together. Your stomach was doing flips inside of you. In just a few minutes you would walk down the aisle, Remus at the end of it. The thought made your heart flutter.

There was a light knock on the door. Mr. Weasley poked his head in, "The music is starting girls. Harry and Ron are waiting at the door for you two."

Harry was Remus' best man and Ron was his groomsman. You walked down the hall and to the double doors that led to your backyard. In front of you Harry and Ginny linked arms and began to walk out. Trailing after them was Hermione and Ron. Mr. Weasley held his arm out for you to take and looked over at you.

"You've grown so much. Your parents would be proud."

You replied with a warm smile. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were like your second parents. Being close to their kids caused it. During the holidays you and your parents would go to the Burrow to celebrate with the Weasleys. It felt like ages since the last time you spent Christmas all together. You were all very close, so it felt right to have Mr. Weasley walk you down the aisle. He was glad to do it too.

You and Arthur walked out of the doorway together and began to walk. A few yards away was Remus, tears glistening in his eyes. He looked magnificent in his suit and tie. As the distance between you was closed, your eyes never left Remus'. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. The nerves you felt before dissipated. As you got to the end of the path, Remus took your hands in his.

You both listened and got through vows and the wedding ring exchange as rehearsed.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Remus and Y/N Lupin. May now kiss the bride." The officiator steps out of the way and a camera flashes as you kiss. The small crowd of yours and Remus' friends cheered and stood as you both walked back down the rose petal covered path to the house. Looking around you saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Bill, Fleur, and Victoire in the second row. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes as she clapped. George gave you a thumbs up, which made you laugh.

You made it through the double doors and back into the house. You cupped Remus' cheek as you kissed him again, more passionately this time. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered, "Mrs. Lupin.?"

"Mr. Lupin?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." You kissed Lupin on the cheek and then went back outside to find that your backyard had been transformed. In the center was a dance floor and off to the sides were tables so everyone could eat. Beige drapes hung on posts over the dance floor. Twinkling lights were wrapped around the trees and hung from their branches. Garlands were placed in the center of the tables along with white roses in vases.

All the Weasleys, Luna and her father, Harry, Hermione, Minerva, Hagrid, Kingsley, and Tonks were seated, awaiting you both to return.

The music started again and Remus pulled you onto the dance floor for your first dance. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around your waist. You pressed your cheek to his chest as your arms went around his neck.

You sighed, thinking about everything you went through to get to this point. Remus sensed your unease.

"What's wrong dear?"

"It's just... we've been through so much. We've lost so many people along the way."

"I know darling. There's nothing that can bring them back, but gaining you is a blessing I won't take for granted."

It was true. They had faced enough pain and loss to last lifetimes. In the past two decades Remus had lost his best friends. In the past two years Y/N lost her parents and one of her best friends. Nothing could bring them back but being together would heal so many other wounds. Together, you could mend the holes that had been left behind.

As you two swayed in time with the music and gazed into each others' eyes, anyone could see that you were looking at your universes. Because no matter what, nothing could break the bond that had flourished between you.

......

Nine months later you would welcome a new life into the world, your son, Farris Lupin, who was named after your father. You and Remus were both granted leave from teaching until the new school semester so you had plenty of uninterrupted time to spend with Farris.

One night, a few months after he was born, you went into Farris' bedroom. Sitting in a large leather chair was Remus and Farris. Farris was laying on Remus' chest, sleeping soundlessly. Remus too was asleep, the book he was reading to him lying in his lap.

Extra: (this happened at your wedding)

As the night began to wind down, you were sitting with George at a table. You both sipped out of your glasses, reminiscing on your adventures at Hogwarts.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah Georgie?"

"Me and Fred had a bet."

"Oh really?" You were surprised George was freely talking about Fred. After his death, George broke down for weeks. Anything related to Fred was a sore topic for you both. You three were best friends all through school, and even past it. So close in fact, that Mrs. Weasley secretly thought you would marry one of them.

"Yeah. I just won it today." George looked down at his fire whiskey and tossed it back, downing it in one gulp.

"What... What was it about?"

"I promised Fred I wouldn't tell you." George would never break that promise, and it was possibly for the better. The bet was made in their fourth year, and would stay a secret for the rest of time.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

74 notes · View notes

deepperplexity · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Snape!

Title: Happy 61st Birthday Severus!

Summary: Severus had spent many birthdays alone and giftless. Rarely was he congratulated nor acknowledged on the 9th of January - his birthday. For many years he endured it, hid his birthday and refused to tell anyone about it. Some already knew of course but he never received anything that told him they remembered. But then you came along, the new assistant at Hogwarts and you just couldn't help but fall in love with the dark man. But it took a birthday and a gift for him that burned a figurative hole in your pocket for a day before you had enough reason and courage to speak with him out of your own accord. Little did you know that that one birthday in January of 1988 would turn into 12 more birthday with him by your side, and beneath you...

A/N: For this day, this wonderful day that our dear professor Snape was born, I have done my best to create something I hope will appeal to most of you. We start off with young Snape and a rather gloomy birthday at Hogwarts while he is a student (just Snape), we head on over to adult Snape and a rather lovely birthday at Hogwarts while he is a professor (Snape x Reader) and then we finally arrive at older Snape as he works as a potioneer (self-employed) and a rather smutty birthday (Snape x Reader) at Spinner’s End! ;) <3

The three fics/chapters follow one another and show Snape’s journey so I do recommend reading all three to get the full experience ^^ The first one is rather short but to the point, while the second is a bit longer and the third one his looong. xD

I hope you all will enjoy this and join me in wishing a happy birthday to our beloved Severus who turns 61 today! <3

+A/N: I believe I mentioned a cake, and messy bed @blog4snape a while ago, so here you go. And, @m0thgutzz, here is the fic you wanted me to link you, I BELIVE YOU THREATHENED ME WITH A WATERGUN IF I DID NOT TELL YOU AND I DO NOT WANT TO BE ATTACK SO HERE! ;)

Setting: Hogwarts -> Your home

Pairing: Snape x Reader

ABBR.:│(y/n) - Your Name│ (y/h) - Your House Of Choice │

Word Count: 9432

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Kissing, Sexual Content, Nudity, Messy Messes...

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

Chapter 1: No such thing for a Snape

1977; Last year at Hogwarts, 17 Years

Christmas was over, a new year had begun and it was his birthday. 17 years and free to wield magic when and where he pleased. No longer bound to the confines of Hogwarts; even if he was there. But, despite the fact he was soon an adult and would be thrown into the big world to fend for himself as he longed for, he was still rather gloomy.

Severus didn’t want to celebrate his birthday nor would he. It wasn’t as if anyone else remembered the day or celebrated it so why should he? It was the day he was born and there was simply nothing else to it. At least, that was how he felt. A rather mundane and regular day for the world and there truly wasn’t anything he felt were special about having been born. Some days, he even wished he hadn’t come to the world.

His mother, a broken witch, had stopped wishing him happy birthday as soon as he were off to Hogwarts. Before that, he would at least get one little congratulatory wish in the morning. His father, the irredeemable abuser of a muggle, more often than not pretended Severus truly did not exist and so the day he was born went unnoticed by the man he barely could call a father. His classmates, housemates and professor seemed as oblivious as a stone to his date of birth.

So, as he got up and dressed he wasn’t expecting the day to be any different than any other day. And, he was right. He went through it as if it was just another Monday. Which it was. Another week, more classes, more homework and idiotic people to endure. Such a waste of time, he thought as he walked away from the Great Hall after having had his supper.

The day truly had gone unnoticed just as he thought it would. It felt both good and bad, he felt content and sad about it too. But as he turned a corner heading for the common room of Slytherin he was met by Argus. The man who he had, actually, bonded with during his time at Hogwarts. His lips perked up in a tiny smile as Argus spotted him and headed straight for him with Mrs. Norris hot on his tale.

“Congratulations lad,” he said with a smile that was more of a sneer that showcased his yellowing teeth. “Thank you, Argus,” Severus said as they both came to a halt in the gloomy corridor. “Had a good day?” Severus shrugged his shoulders. “Potter exploded a cauldron in potions, he got an extra set of ears for a few hours. That was fun,” he answered the man and Argus snorted. “Serves him right, awful boy that one. Sneaking about, harassing and disrupting the others. Nasty boy,” Argus muttered in that annoyed tone of his and Severus nodded.

He had barely been able to contain his laughter at his bully, James Potter, as he pulled on the extra ears that sat right above the others. That, well that had been the highlight of his day, to be honest. Some justice in the universe. “Good evening my lady,” Severus said as he smiled a little wider as he thought of the memory and saw Mrs. Norris peeking up at him with her blood-red eyes. She purred out a meow and walked over. He scratched her under her chin and she then took a lap to stroke around his legs.

“Well, we best be off. Got floors to sweep and paintings to dust,” Argus said and the cat returned to his side. Severus nodded. “Good night lad,” Argus continued with a smile that vanished as he started walking away from the boy. “Goodnight Argus, and my lady,” Severus said to their backs before he continued on his way to Slytherin a little ways away.

As darkness settled outside of the castle Severus was sat, cross-legged, on his bed with a potions book in his lap and his wand in hand to give light. He read and read, allowed his mind to drift away from the day and time as his nose leaned ever closer to the pages of the book. It wasn’t until little circles of water marked the pages that he realised he was actually crying. The salty fluid leaked from his eyes, ran down his cheeks and dripped from his chin.

He raised his hand to wipe them away but more tears just kept on coming. He snivelled ever so slightly and even though the dorm was empty he was grateful the curtains around his bed were pulled shut. It gave him at least some sense of privacy as he wept in solitude and near silence. His chest hurt as his stomach felt filled with tiny knots that turned into bigger knots. His lungs felt too tight and it was hard to breathe without shuddering.

What is wrong with me? It’s just another Monday for Salazar’s sake! Stop this infernal crying! His thoughts screamed at him but no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he did not care, that he was truly not bothered - he couldn’t stop feeling the pain or shedding the abominable, infernal tears.

Argus’s words came back to him and Mrs. Norris's slight purr. They were his only friends. They were the only ones who had remembered. How sad was that? A janitor and a damn cat were the only two who had wished him a happy birthday. But, they remembered, they cared enough to remember and say something. Thoughts of his parents entered his mind and rage replaced the sad ache in his chest.

He wished, desperately, that they had not been his parents. He wished he had not been born into such a family; if you could even call it that. Wished, oh how he wished he had been loved by someone in his life. How he wished there was someone out there in the big world who could love him, cherish him and maybe make his birthday something other than gloomy and filled with tears. A card, a wish or even a gift. Just, someone who did something to celebrate that he had in fact been born and were part of the world. Even if everyone seemed to think of him as much as they thought of a common housefly buzzing about with no meaning. He just wished there was someone out there, just for him. Someone that would care and perhaps love him.

But alas, he had no actual hope for such a person. No hope for such a thing as love or friendship. He had, for his entire life, been taught that there was no such thing for a Snape. There was no such thing as true friendship for a Snape. There was no value for a human that was a Snape. There was no such thing as happiness or joy for a person with the last name of Snape. Such an ugly word, such a horrendous word. Such a useless, despicable name. Snape. Snape, Snape, Snape, Snape, Snape. Despicable name…

He abandoned the book and killed the light from his wand before he huddled under the covers, still fully dressed, and hugged his pillow to his chest. His hooked nose buried into the soft green fabric as he tried his best to suffocate the snivels and sobs that escaped him without his consent. It was, truly, an awful birthday. A lonely birthday. A worthless birthday for a worthless person…

Chapter 2: A stirring of hope

A/N: Here we go, the second chapter and this is where you come in as an assistant that provides help to several professors with grading papers, assisting in difficult classes etc.!

1988; Professor at Hogwarts, 28 Years.

The little box wrapped in green paper with a black string woven into a bow at the top rested in the pocket of your coat. It was terribly chilly at Hogwarts this particular day, this lovely day, this amazing day. You had butterflies in your stomach as you marched from the (y/h) common room as you had been busy grading papers for professor McGonagall after classes had ended for the day and you enjoyed doing it in the common room where there were movement and sound to accompany you.

You had, unfortunately, not sen Severus all day long. Not even in the Great Hall and you found it a bit odd. He was a scheduled man, punctual and precise in his everyday life. Yet this day, this fantastic day you had longed for since you first found out about it, he was nowhere to be found.

So, you had to go to him. The little gift had been burning a hole in your pocket the entire day and you, frankly, just wanted to hand it over and get rid of the fluttering butterflies that swarmed inside you. You hoped he would accept it, that he would open it and be pleased. But with Severus, you never knew.

Truly, you never knew where you had him. You had been flirting with him since late September and sometimes he sneered, sometimes he glared, sometimes he huffed and sometimes (although rare) he smiled and averted his gaze. You had no clue if he understood your affection for what it was. Or, if he even remotely felt anything like what you felt for him. Perhaps you were just a nuisance to him?

Nevertheless, you had decided to purchase him a gift - even if you were likely to receive none in return. You didn’t mind though. You just wanted to make him happy, make him smile. As you thought of his stoic face with the distinct features and his deep onyx eyes heat swirled in your stomach and a light blush crept over your cheeks. Your hand slid down to your pocket and felt for the gift. Yupp, it was still there. Burning a hole with nerves in your pocket.

You arrived outside his private quarters and knocked on the door. You waited, listened, and waited a little more. You didn’t need to knock a second time as Severus always answered his door on the first round of knocking. If he didn’t, he wasn’t there. So, you sighed as the door remained shut and headed to his classroom. Your nerves prickled and made you shiver slightly as you truly did not know how the dark and closed off man would react. But, you’d find out in a minute.

You knocked on the door as you had arrived and it swung open. Your breath hitched as you saw him over by a cauldron in the far corner. Brewing a potion that made aqua coloured smoke slither out and up from the cauldron he hunched over in a focused stance.

You had to take a moment to catch your breath as he had removed his billowing cloak and stood in the tight frock coat that hugged his form and accentuated his waste as it flared out ever so slightly around his hips. Images of popping buttons ran through your head as you were already too aware of how many there were - having counted them too many times to ever be able to forget.

“(Y/n), what gives me the pleasure?” he murmured without looking over at you. You took a steadying breath. You could never get used to that thunderous voice of his that could be heard so clearly even if he spoke with a rather low tone. “Oh, I thought I’d come by,” you said as you suddenly hesitated regarding wishing him a happy birthday. No, I bought a gift, it is his birthday and I don’t think anyone has congratulated him so I shall do it. Yes, yes I shall do it. Move your legs! Come on, go up to him!

You scolded yourself into moving with hesitant steps. Your shoes clicked against the stone floor as you moved closer. “Well, as much as I enjoy your company, (y/n), I am in the middle for brewing a draught of peace. It’s a rather-” “Complicated potion, I am aware.” He arched a brow at you, possibly surprised but it was hard for you to tell. His expressions were shown with small little shifts and more often than not they were hard to decipher. So you simply smiled as you leaned a little closer.

“I see you’re adding powdered porcupine quills, I’ll just wait until you’re finished then.” He arched a brow at you as you sat on top of a desk, that the students used, to wait. You smiled at him and he focused on the potion again. You knew he’d have to stir until it turned white and then allow it to simmer on low heat before adding seven drops of hellebore. He would be finished soon so it wasn’t really a bother to wait. And, it would allow you to look at him unhindered if you stayed and waited in the secluded classroom. “As you wish,” he simply grumbled out and you folded your hands in your lap as you propped your feet up on the bench in front of you.

It took exactly 14 minutes until he was done. For 14, wonderful, minutes you could just look at him. Study his features, the curves of his body and the long black hair he had fastened behind his ear on the side closest to you. He had cute ears, large but peaked and rather narrow with gentle little earlobes. For a moment you wondered how he would look with pierced ears. You found the idea rather intriguing. Perhaps, a silver ring? Oh, that would look rather sexy on him, he could totally pull that-

He straightened and you smiled hastily as your thought stopped n its tracks before it had ever reached its endstation. “Done,” he stated flatly and you lowered your feet to the floor. “Great, may I have a moment of your time now then?” He turned towards you. His face stoic but his eyes looked rather puzzled. You simply kept smiling as you honestly couldn’t stop as he was close by. He always made you smile despite the stoic face, the command of respect and the glaring eyes that sometimes, but rarely, had a gentle shine to them.

“You may,” he said as he clasped his hands behind his back and remained utterly still. You often wondered how he did it. How someone could be so still as to be more of a statue than a living being. You truly did not want to know the answer, but you still wondered. “Well,” you started as you rose from the desk, “I would like to congratulate you if I may?” “Regarding what?” “Your birthday of course!” you giggled out as you shook your head gently on a small sigh.

“I do not celebrate it,” he simply stated and you gaped at him. “But, it’s your birthday, Severus. It’s worth celebrating.” “Not to me, it isn’t.” His words were cold, flat. They weren’t growled or shouted or even said with sadness. They were just empty. Utterly void of emotion. Your heart stung as he seemed so far away and almost lost. I will have none of that nonsense.

“Well I think it’s worth celebrating that you were born, so suck it up.” His brows rose as you spoke, definite surprise in the dark pits that were his eyes and you rummaged in your pocket to retrieve the gift that you now wanted to give not because you wanted to get it over with but because you truly wanted him to feel some form of happy emotion on his birthday. Perhaps he wouldn’t, but perhaps he would.

“Here,” you said as you reached out your hand with the little gift, “and happy birthday Severus.” He stood still for another moment before he slowly unclasped his hands from behind his back and reached his left hand out. His movements were slow yet steady, his fingers graced your hand as he grabbed the gift.

“You, bought me a present?” “Mhm,” you smiled out with a nod as he looked at you, “that is what one does on another person’s birthday you know.” He nodded ever so slightly before his gaze went to the gift that looked even smaller in his larger hand. “Well go on, open it.” At your words, he reached out with his free hand and tugged on the string that released the little bow. He unwrapped it slowly; as if he almost didn’t want to do it or didn’t want the unwrapping to end. You couldn’t quite figure out why. The whole point of getting a gift was what laid hidden beneath the wrappings - not the actual wrappings. You had never seen anyone do it so slowly before.

He finally revealed a little black box that was labelled ‘Brelixion’ with silver-coloured swishy writing. It looked quite elegant and the store was perhaps not well known to the regular magician but you knew Severus was well aware of the little shop that only housed expensive, exquisite and potions exclusive things. You had to be a highly skilled potioneer to use the items as they were not for ordinary magicians. They were for those who understood, commanded and ruled over potions with the utmost understanding of the art that was potion-making.

Severus, you knew, was such a magician. He was an excellent potion creator, a true Potions Master. So, it was the only place you even considered to buy him a gift from. And it appeared you may have been right in your decision. He looked stoic, yes, but there was an odd softness to his sharp features as he looked at the box. Okay, first we unwrap for an eternity and now we just look at the box? Ooookey, well, it’s his birthday, his choice.

You stood across from him, silently smiling as you waited as patiently as you could for him to open the box. But he didn’t. He just held it in his hand and looked at it. You knitted your brows together. “Aren’t-, Aren’t you going to open it?” Severus jerked his head up at your voice; as if he had been deep in thought. “What? Yes, excuse me,” he muttered under his breath as he slowly lifted the lid and peered inside.

For a tiny fraction of a second, you were afraid you had done something wrong as he frowned at your gift. It, well it hurt, to be honest. You had really given thought to the whole thing as it was about a month and a half of your salary that went towards that little gift he so gently held in his hands while his face seemed to show displeasure.

You entwined your fingers in front of you as you looked away from him and down at the floor. “Do you, do you not like it?” you asked with a low voice and you felt disheartened by your own words. You heard him move but you didn’t dare to look up at the dark man. You just bit your lip and nervously wrung your fingers.

“It’s perfect,” he said and you could not believe the softness his voice vibrated through you with. Slowly, ever so slowly, you looked up and found him looking right at you. His eyes were shiny, his mouth gently curved up in a smile and he seemed full of life rather than the statue-like state he seemed to always be in. “Really?” you asked feebly, he nodded. “Truly.”

Your shoulders lowered as you relaxed a bit and let go of the tension that had stiffened you. “Tell me, (y/n), why have you done this?” You tilted your head, now your eyes were the puzzled ones. Had he truly not seen your efforts to get closer? Had he not noticed the fondness and desire you had for him? You thought you had made it quite clear numerous times yet it seemed to have gone over his head, how in the world that was possible when Severus was such a clever man you could not fathom.

It took you a moment to order your thoughts and he waited with curious eyes directed at your own. “I-, I thought you knew?” “It’s my birthday, yes, but that does not warrant such an extravagant gift as this.” You bit your lips and lowered your gaze. Do I have to spell it out? Gosh, I-, I-, oh I don’t want to spell it out. Why can’t he just understand I’m in love with him? Is it really that strange of an idea?

You took a breath and searched for your courage. “I, I am very fond of you.” It wasn’t a lie but neither was it the full truth. Silence lowered over you for a few seconds but then you heard him take a breath and speak - in the nick of time as you wanted to run for it. “Is that so?” Was, was that a purr? In his voice? No, I, I must have misheard him. “Yes,” you whispered as you lowered your head even more, “I am very fond of you and I just, just wanted to tell you, or show you. And, wish you a happy birthday. Not that my efforts will make a difference but-” “It makes all the difference in the world.”

You stiffened as his voice rumbled around you, vibrated through you and made heat swirl in the pit of your stomach where the butterflies had been all day. His voice, his lovely voice was gentle yet firm, measured yet liberated. It was an odd combination but you loved it. Something about it felt private, personal.

He stepped up to you and you saw his hand come in under your chin before you felt it. He tilted your head up and his cold skin against your own, slightly warmer, made you shiver. It felt good. “All. The. Difference,” he stated with pressure on each word. You blinked as he gazed into your eyes and you couldn’t help how your knees weakened, how your heart pounded and your lungs felt too tight to breathe with.

“Thank you,” he said and his breath warmed your face, “for making my birthday something, other than void.” It seemed as if it were the only words he could give you at that moment and you took them with joy. You would forever remember and cherish them. “You’re welcome.” “But, I do have to ask…” “Yes?” you said as you tried to decipher what was hidden in his eyes. “Do you, perhaps, feel something other than collegial friendship and fondness for, me?”

You blushed at his words as he still had your chin in his grasp. You were sure he could feel warmth radiate from your heating skin and it felt as if your heartbeat echoed out around the both of you. “Yes,” you finally stated on a hitching breath, “yes I do, Severus,” you continued as your mouth went dry. “Good,” he said with that thunderous yet soft voice before he nearly gave you a heart attack as he leaned in and planted a gentle yet firm kiss against your lips. It happened so fast it took you a second to react. But when you did, your body softened, your thoughts went silent and all you could feel was his lips on yours for a few amazing seconds as the taste of him and peppermint overtook you.

As you broke apart you drew a deep breath. Air could finally fill your lungs again. But your heart pounded harder and you blushed a deeper shade of red as he smirked at you. “Why, (y/n), I do believe you might have a fever.” It was cruel of him really, to tease you, but at the same time you had never seen or heard him make such a remark and his voice was not harsh. It was gentle and inviting. “Well, I think I might be struck by a sickness,” you said as you looked at him. He arched a brow at you. “I do believe my heart has been struck by sickeningly sweet affection and it does make me suspiciously hot and bothered at times,” you continued and blushed even more as the words were outrageously revealing and never had you dreamt of speaking in such a manner with Severus. “My oh my, perhaps there is a cure for this sickness of yours?” “Oh there definitely is a cure. As long as I get my daily dose of Severus I’ll be fine,” you said with a shy voice as you really felt quite audacious and you had no idea what to do with your hands, how to stand or even how to look at him without wanting to hide from the embarrassment of your words.

But Severus, well he just smiled ever so slightly towards you. “My my, we do have an audacious mind,” he hummed with a gentle thunder to his gruff voice, “I must say, I never imagine you to say such lovely things, (y/n). Feel free to keep surprising me,” he said as he set the gift down on a nearby desk. He took your face in both of his hands, ever so gently, as he looked down at you from his towering position.

His eyes were still harsh, his face still stoic, his lips thin and his jaw so tense. Yet at the same time; he had a light swirl in his gaze, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth, a sort of sensual harshness to his face and jaw that utterly captivated you and spurred on the heat that gathered in your stomach. Your breath shook as you lost yourself in his eyes. As you truly lost yourself to the blooming love that glowed inside of you.

“Severus, I was afraid you didn’t feel like-, that you didn’t like-, that you didn’t-” “Hush,” he said as he leaned in to kiss you again. But his lips never came. He cursed violently and in the next moment you were hidden by him, pressed to his warm chest and you were so shocked you failed to smell the smoke in the room. But there was no missing the sound of an exploding cauldron and, certainly, no way of missing Severus’s hiss as the ruined potion rained down over him as he protected you from the liquid that was heavy and white.

You started to giggle, you tried to stop as he swore and hissed while potion covered him from head to, well to his butt really, but you simply couldn’t help it. He looked so cute as he whipped his arms and shook his head so potion splattered about from his long black hair. You were fortunately still close to his chest so none rained down on you.

He swore a few more choice words. You tried to quiet your laughter as he spluttered and glared at you. “I’m sorry Severus, it’s just, we forgot and you don’t-, you never-” “No, I do not. Apparently, audacity is not your only surprising gift. You’re quite the distraction as well. Obviously.” You blushed again and lowered your head at his snarled words. “But, I do enjoy the way you distract,” he murmured ever so gently as his fingers yet again tipped your head back from where he held them under your chin. “It’s, audaciously distracting to be in your presence like this. With no boundaries of courtesy or distance of caged emotions.” You looked at him with widened eyes, so you do feel as I do? Truly? You thought but you did not dare to utter the words aloud.

“Can I expect you to distract me again soon?” he asked on a deep rumble. You blinked and then swallowed. “If you wish, if, if you allow me to,” you stuttered out with a shy voice and your knees shook a bit. He was the Severus Snape after all. Not only was he a busy man but he was also quite private and closed off. Not to mention feared and even loathed by some students and you had noticed he always avoided spending his free time with anyone. So as he nodded in agreement to your question you could not help but to smile so widely your cheeks hurt and all you wanted to do was to kiss those lips again.

But in that precise moment, a few drops of potion ran down from his hair, down his forehead and then down his nose. You giggled yet again before you stroked away the liquid as he nearly crossed his eyes to watch the movement of your finger and that only made your giggle turn into laughter as he looked adorably ridiculous. Nothing like the notorious dungeon bat of darkness.

“A sweet laugh as well,” he grumbled on a snorting chuckle and you tried to suffocate the laughter. “Well, I’m sorry, you’re just so adorable,” you laughed out and he arched a brow at you while his face hardened to near stone. “Be glad I’m fond of you...” he huffed out as his eyes turned darker. Okay, note to self, do not call him adorable unless you want to make him pissed as the hornets of a kicked hornet’s nest. Even, even if he is adorable. You whipped out your wand to clear away the potion and the hardened lines of his face softened as you smiled at him. He nodded and you flicked your wand. He was clean but your thoughts were dirty as he gazed into your eyes and a warm shiver travelled down your back...

Chapter 3: A line of chocolate

A/N: This fic has a section that is split and marked male gender and female gender - I wanted to give at least a little more explicit content and to do that I felt it was best to do two sections (one for female genitalia and one for male genitalia) so I didn’t have to be so vague and could write a bit more freely. I hope you are okay with this setup! Everything is still GN in the sections except the physical aspects of you and the sections are almost identical except what Snape does to your body.

2000; Potioneer, 40 Years

You were being as silent as you could while you prepared breakfast for the birthday man. Forty years, I can’t believe he’s turning forty. It’s, it’s insane. Where did the time go? You thought as you ordered the table with a firm whipping of your wand. Plates, cutlery, cups and the food gently floated into place. You pointed your wand at the coffee pot and it swayed towards the table before it sat itself down on a little holder with an everglowing flame underneath to keep it warm.

You rubbed your hands together, a slight smile across your face. Your husband was sleeping upstairs with no clue about what you had planned for the day. Well, he did say I was audacious, even if it was quite a while ago now. You chuckled to yourself as fond memories of the first birthday you had celebrated him on floated through your mind. It had been a mess of emotions and potion. But everything had turned out alright in the end as you had now spent twelve years together.

You took a moment to check everything before you nodded to yourself, checked the time and saw it was nearly eleven in the morning as you strode off to wake Severus from his deep slumber. You tipped as quietly as you could through the little house and upstairs, opened the bedroom door and stepped inside of the cosy little bedroom with a bed that was frankly too big for the room; which made the room look smaller than it actually was.

Your heart skipped a beat as he laid on his back, his black hair spread out across the pillow and his chest gently rose and sunk in the midday sunlight that seeped through the little windows. The cover was bunched up at his waist, his upper body on display for you to drool over. He truly was gorgeous. His dark chest hair dusted with greying hairs, his tummy a little softer than a few years ago; but his skin was as pale as ever. You smiled at the sight. You adored him, His body, heart, soul and mind. All of him.

You gave yourself a moment to just appreciate what you had, what was yours. Who you belonged to and lived with, who you were growing old with and made memories with each day that passed. He made you whole. Made life beautiful and heaven felt useless compared to your life. I’m so lucky to have you darling, you thought as you stepped closer to the bed.

You stroked his shoulder, kissed his cheek and whispered to him that it was time to wake up as you giggled out a ‘sleepy head’. For he was. He would sleep the days away if you allowed it. Nights, not so much. He never came to bed before midnight and rarely rose before ten in the morning unless you woke him up - or he had a meeting with a customer or company provider of one sort or another.

He grumbled and groaned as he turned his head away from you. “Come on darling, it’s time to wake up,” you said a little louder and petted his shoulder a little harder. “No,” he groaned out and you rolled your eyes. “Always such a fuss to get you out of bed,” “It’s warm and comfortable,” he grumbled and you smiled. “Well, I made breakfast, your favourite.” His head jerk back towards you and his eyes were suddenly wide open. “Really?” “Really,” you said on a nod and he smiled at you.

You both ate, drank coffee and enjoyed the silence. Severus truly weren’t a morning person and you had learned through the years to be quiet for the first hour after he woke up. It made for a more pleasant day and a happier husband so you really didn’t mind. Truthfully, you had come to be rather fond of the silence as he allowed you to just look at him. The first few months he had been rather annoyed by this little habit of yours but he had come to accept it, as you had done with the silence.

When the table was cleared, the dishes put away and Severus had finished his third cup of black coffee, as he read the news seated by the kitchen table, you turned towards him. “Darling,” you said to get his attention and he looked up, “happy birthday.” He smiled at you while he folded the newspaper and placed it on the table as the clock struck twelve. “Thank you, love,” he said and the difference between this birthday and the first struck you in that moment of time.

“Still think your birthday is not worth celebrating?” you asked and you saw in his eyes that he immediately understood what you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, not anymore. I’m rather, rather fond of it now.” You giggled and went over to him, he opened up his arms and you stepped in between his legs as he embraced you around your waist and you kissed the top of his head.

His hair smelled like sage, copper, smoke and sheets. He needed a shower. Not that it smelled bad, but it smelled of work and you didn't want to be reminded of that on his birthday. “Come on, let’s take a bath,” you mused and he leaned his head back to look at you. His black hair hung down behind him and you ran your fingers through it. “I showered two days ago,” he said with a furrowed brow. You sighed. “Take a bath with me.” You stepped out of his seated embrace and he rose without any further remarks.

The water was warm and felt gentle to your skin as you snuggled into Severus’s chest and his arms folded around you. You hummed in delight as the gentle scent of honey and vanilla filled your nose from the soap you had poured into the water earlier. “I love you, (y/n),” he whispered before his lips graced your head. “And I love you,” you breathed out. He hugged you tighter and his naked skin against your own felt utterly delightful.

You took a moment to just enjoy it, enjoy the cuddling and closeness. But thoughts of his birthday came and you felt a small, slightly wicked smile tug at your lips. You allowed your hands to stroke his legs on either side of you. Up and down, up and down. Gentle movements yet your intent was clear. He grew behind you, hardened and you felt a sense of pride that such simple touch from you could arouse him so hastily.

You turned around as the water sloshed around your body and some spilt over the edges of the tub. Your mouth started tracing kissed over his shoulder, his neck, his throat and eventually your lips joined with his as you straightened and straddled him. You silently thanked yourself for installing such a large tub and then you silently thanked him for allowing you to decorate and remodel your home through the years however you wanted.

He purred against your lips and you silently moaned as his strong hands grabbed your hips. You wiggled a tad and he groaned as you were pressed against his hardening erection. “Happy birthday,” you whispered. “Happy indeed,” he purred back with that deep voice of his. You shivered and heat made your toes curl.

He nibbled on your bottom lip as your hands cupped his face. Your tongue darted out and licked his upper lip as you ground against him again. You felt a hunger so strong you could barely contain a growl, he did that to you. Still. After twelve years of love and making love, growing and changing, evolving and finding yourselves he still made you ache with want. Still made you boil with lust. Still managed to turn you on so badly you feared you had gone mad for him sometimes.

Your hand stroked its way down over his chest, his stomach, until you reached his cock. You scooted back a bit and grabbed him with desperate movements. You began to stroke him, he moaned into your mouth and as you stroked a few more times his lips left yours as his head tilted backwards. His eyes closed in bliss produced by your hand.

He was beautiful, handsome, perfect. Your perfect ideal of a man. That he had a few years on you did truly not matter. That you had been a mere assistant at Hogwarts when the two of you met didn’t matter. That he was so much more than you could ever hope to become did not matter either. All that mattered was that he loved you and you loved him.

“(Y/n),” he breathed out as you continued to stroke him and your mouth left harsh kisses along his neck and jaw. You nearly came by the sound of his voice uttering your name with such need and want. “I love you,” you moaned against his skin and he shivered beneath you. You stroked harder, used the tempo he loved and panted into his ear as you asked him to come for you.

He groaned, tensed, and by your hand, he came undone. You felt such pride, such joy at seeing him unravel beneath you as his face was strained with pleasure and his lips gently parted as he sucked in air to calm himself. “You’re beautiful when you cum,” you whispered as you kissed his cheek with pure love.

He chuckled and raised his head as his eyes locked with yours. They were such beautiful pits of swirling darkness and gentle stardust that spellbound you without fault each time they gazed into your own. You kissed his thin lips and he moved his hand from your hip to your groin. You shivered with delight as he stroked and graced your aching sex with his harsh hand.

~Female Gender~

He encircled your clit, stroked it and made you squeeze your eyes shut in delight. His hand and fingers felt so good against your pussy you could barely take the pleasure. “Look at me,” he said gruffly and you did. You looked at him as his fingers danced between your folds and eventually pushed inside you only to be greeted with hot, wet warmth. You moaned in delight as his thumb stroked your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your opening. Just how you wanted it.

You bit down on your bottom lip as his eyes held you captive. He wanted to see you, wanted to see all things you felt and enjoy all things he made you feel. He was dominant in his ways with you and you marvelled at his stern command no matter what situation you were in. He made you feel safe and because of that, he could do whatever he pleased with you.

He pumped you harder, pushed another finger inside as his thumb never relented on the onslaught of your clit. Your muscles were tensing, your hands on his shoulders hardened as you felt your climax arrive with a flurry of moans and gasps. Your body shook as he gently eased you of your high with measured pumps and strokes before his fingers glided out of your clenching pussy and he looked too pleased with himself as you panted and shook where you sat, still straddling him, in the tub.

~Male Gender~

He encircled your cock, stroked it and made you squeeze your eyes shut in delight. His hand and fingers felt so good against your hardened flesh you could barely take the pleasure. “Look at me,” he said gruffly and you did. You looked at him as his fingers surrounded your erection and started to pump you ever so gently as your heat radiated against his cool palm. You moaned in delight as his thumb stroked your tip while his fingers held a firm grasp of your most delicate body part and stroked you tenderly. Just how you wanted it.

He pumped you harder, pushed down and pulled up as his thumb never relented on the onslaught of your cocks peak. Your muscles were tensing, your hands on his shoulders hardened as you felt your climax arrive with a flurry of moans and gasps. Your body shook as he gently eased you of your high with measured pumps and strokes before his fingers slipped away from your softening cock and he looked too pleased with himself as you panted and shook where you sat, still straddling him, in the tub.

~Gender Neutral~

You both were dressed in soft clothes and thick robes after the enjoyable bath. Severus sipped on another cup of coffee while reading a book on the newest potions to hit the market as you sipped on a cup of tea and read a rather outrageous book of love and lust. It was quite enthralling, so enthralling in fact that you forgot about the time.

It was past three in the afternoon before you looked up from the crisp pages only to see that Severus’s armchair was empty, the book he had been reading laid on the little side table and the sound of cooking were heard from the kitchen. “Shit!” you hissed out as you threw away the blanket you had at some point pulled over your legs and discarded the book only to hurry to the kitchen.

“Severus, darling, it’s your birthday,” you said as you stepped in and found him busy by the stove. “And?” “You shouldn’t do the cooking,” you said as your arms wrapped around his waist and the delicious smell of boiled chicken with herbs wafted up your nose. He merely chuckled and kept on adding spices to the boiling pot before him.

“Seriously, I can-” “I’d like to survive this birthday, thank you very much.” You pouted at his words, it’s not like I’ve tried to poison you! He arched a brow and you growled at him. He could sense your annoyance with him. “Last time you almost burned the house down, the time before that you nearly flooded the kitchen, the time before that you almost covered yourself in boiling water and the time before that you tried to serve me some sort of concoction that could probably have killed the devil himself if she consumed it and the time before that-” You threw your hands up in the air. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m a hazard in the damn kitchen Mr Master Cook!” you spat out with a slight hiss to your voice. But yet again, he merely chuckled. You had to do your darndest not to crack up at his little devil joke either. It was clear the devil was a male by popular opinion but Severus firmly believed the devil had to be a woman - even if neither of you believed in such muggle things. You had had a long discussion on the whole thing though, and you actually agreed with him as he had said 'hell has no fury like a woman scorn and if hell can't compete then the only logical thing is that a female rules it, a woman is the devil'.

“Honey, love, you are an excellent baker - as long as it doesn’t involve the stove, so just stick with that. I can cook just fine-” “No, you are not just able to perform the task of cooking just fine, you’re fucking brilliant at it and I’m not as good as you, I am well aware Mr Look At Me Cook Like I’m a Master Chef, so don’t-” But you interrupted yourself as he looked at you with a puzzled look. “What?” you spat. Annoyed at his cheerful features. “Well, I think you might have mastered the art of spiteful compliments, love,” he said on a shrug and you had no words after that. He was infuriating at times but by Merlin how you loved him for all his perfections and imperfections. As he did with you.

“Fine, I will stay out of your hair. Do your swish-swash-stirring in peace.” He laughed at you, a rumbling sound that cushioned your heart in clouds of bliss, and gave your forehead a quick kiss before you muttered some choice words under your breath and left the kitchen behind you.

You ate a while later and Severus poured you a glass of wine before he poured one for himself. It had become somewhat of a tradition. You shared a bottle of wine on his birthday, shared a bottle of cider on your birthday and a small bottle of brandy was shared during Christmas and New Year. Other than those three occasions, you never consumed any alcohol.

Some found it strange, but you both had your reasons for it. Severus’s father had been a drunk, your (relative) and (relative) had been drunks as well. It ruined families, useless overconsumption of alcohol. Neither of you wanted that so you had your three bottles per year and that was all. In all honesty, it only made the stuff taste better to have it so rarely.

You clinked your glasses and took a sip each. You handed over a little gift to him as you had placed your glass on the table. His eyes widened and a slight smirk covered his thin lips. The gift looked exactly like the one you had given him the first time you ever presented him with such a thing. Only a little bit larger. You blushed ever so slightly as he smiled widely at you with soft and warm eyes.

“Happy birthday, Severus,” you said and grabbed your glass. He tore open the wrappings, such difference compare to the first time. Perhaps, I have managed to make him confident in the fact he will always receive gifts on his birthday. Perhaps he feels safe in that, perhaps he truly does enjoy his birthday now. Well, no, that’s not a perhaps. I know he does.

Your thoughts raced through your mind as he was yet again, after twelve years, met with a black box with silver lettering on top that spelt ‘Brelixion’ . The exclusive, expensive shop for potion-making. Not that you had a low income or anything like that anymore. No, both of you could buy most of what you wanted with your own firm doing so well. But still, it was an expensive shop and the object was worth some awe.

Severus opened the lid and peeked inside. His eyes softened and you felt a gentle warmth curl its way through your veins. He was happy. That was all you wanted. “Love, thank you,” he said gently with that deep voice of his that you loved so much. You were the only one to ever be so fortunate as to hear that gentle sound from between his lips. “Do you like it? It goes with the first one,” you said and he nodded. “I do,” he stated as his eyes went from yours and back to the gift.

“I shall take it with me at all times,” he stated and you knew he meant for work. It pleased you to hear as you already knew he always had his first gift with him in that leather bag of his that could fit more things than logically possible. Thank you undetectable extension charm, you thought on a light smile. Your mind wandered and in the silence, you pondered on the next little gift you had planned. Well, it wasn’t so much a gift, more like an experience but still.

The day passed gently, there were a few cards that arrived by owl from around the globe addressed to Severus. Customers, potion masters and old colleagues - old friends even - and you were thrilled for him as he had been such a lonely man a few years back and had so low hopes each time January and his birthday came around. But not anymore. It was all different now. Not only the birthday but he and you as well. Different, the same, but different.

Darkness had crept in nearly three hours ago and you felt a slight tingle in your body as you gathered your courage to try something new. Something Severus would no doubt find audacious. He’d most likely call you wicked and you truly hoped for that as it was a word he rarely used to describe you, actually, it was only uttered by him if you did something wickedly delightful to him that also surprised him. And you hoped, that this evening, would be such a thing so as to garner such praise.

“Darling?” you said to get his attention, he hummed a little. “Come to bed with me.” He looked up from his book. “Love, it’s only seven.” “I know,” you smiled out with sparkling eyes and a slight blush across your cheeks. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he raised his brows. He was most likely thinking about the bath you had enjoyed together in the late morning already. But he nodded and you both got up. You ushered him upstairs, saying you’d only be a minute.

He went upstairs to your bedroom while you headed for the kitchen. In the fridge stood a chocolate cake topped with whipped cream and a few strawberries. ‘Lovely Forty’ was swirled across its top in white chocolate sauce. You grabbed it and put it on the counter. You shed your clothes right there in the kitchen as beneath you wore, well, nothing. “Either he’ll die of laughter or this will go hella good,” you whispered to yourself as you took a steadying breath and placed twelve candles on the cake - one for each birthday you had celebrated with him.

You walked gently through the house with the cake in your hands, all the candles lit and the light danced across your naked skin. With your foot, you pushed the door open just as Severus had removed his shirt. His socks and slippers were already in a heap on the floor. He stood in only silky, black pyjama pants before you and the sight was quite something.

“Happy birthday,” you said again and your voice was slightly low as shyness took over for a moment. He arched a brow, his eyes harshly roved over you and the cake for an eternity before a hint of a smile curved his lips and the dark pits that were his beautiful eyes swirled with want. “Happy indeed,” he said for the second time that day and confidence unfurled and bloomed within you as all shyness melted away under his loving gaze.

There was chocolate everywhere. Literally. In your hair, on your nose, between your legs, on your feet, your elbows and tummy, your shoulder and fingers and knees. Everywhere. You were a chocolate covered mess along with the sheets and Severus seemed to be more than happy to continue making you a complete mess with the cake you had worked hard on. But you had other plans.

As he was busy licking cake off your inner thigh he did not notice you had reached for your wand, the wand you had cleverly hidden beneath the cake as you walked up many moments ago. You smiled as you flicked your wand, a belt came flying from the nearby wardrobe and in the next moment Severus was bound beneath you with his hands above his head and a look of surprise covered his face. “(Y/n), what in the world are you-” Your messy finger covered his lips as you smiled at him with warmth and yearning. “My turn,” you simply stated and he breathed out harshly through that gorgeous hooked nose of his.

You had never bound him before, he had bound you but never the other way around. Well, we haven’t ever played with food in the bed before either so, some firsts being crossed. Still, after twelve years we have firsts, the thought made you excited and you removed your messy fingers from his lips that were messy as well. You giggled as he had chocolate on that pretty nose of his and all around his cheeks. You bent down and licked it off.

With your finger dipped in chocolate from the centre of the cake you began to draw a line, from his chin to his cock. You had to take some new chocolate a few times but in the end, you had a nice little path to travel. “Oh, such a messy mess,” you said as you splattered some extra chocolate over his chest and stomach. He chuckled and sighed at your mischief. “Oh we are wickedly audacious today,” he said and vibrations shot through you from his nearly hoarse voice. The words made you purr. “Guess I’ll have to clean you up, my birthday man…”

You lowered yourself, your lips graced his jaw and you nibbled between soft kisses. He hummed in delight as you worked your way down. Licking, lapping, kissing and nibbling. “You taste good paired with chocolate,” you purred out against his chest as you ground against his cock that you were sure was nearly painfully hard beneath you as you straddled him. “But it’s nearly a shame to pair such a lovely flavour with something so simple,” you breathed out to take a deliberate pause as you knew your words were ambiguous, “as mundane chocolate.” He took a shaky breath and you gave one of his nipples a hard lick. He bucked and you moaned.

“I love you,” he whispered as you continued your journey down his stomach, licking and loving him every bit of the way. “And I love you,” you breathed out against his pale skin as you continued to press your tongue against it. You were devouring the chocolate and consumed him fully in your mouth as you arrived at his erection where the line of chocolate ended. “(Y/n).” You smiled as you licked and sucked. His thundering voice that articulated your name was all you needed to hear at that moment.

You were consumed by lust and love. He was consumed by you until he reached his highest point and released himself with a loud growl of adoration for you and your mouth. It was, for him, one of the greatest birthdays in history. Not because you loved him so audaciously wickedly with cake and licks but because you simply loved him. Fully, wholeheartedly and completely. That was the greatest gift, you by his side through life and you knew it before he ever had to utter the words.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

Thank you for reading! Thank you for your time and commitment, I hope you feel it was worth it! :D <3

Let's wish Snape a Happy Birthday once more and I hope you all have a lovely day celebrating with Snapedom! ^^ <3

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @morphineisouthoney @setsuna-meiou31 @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Jan:2021]

#snape's birthday #happy birthday snape #snapedom #snape fic #snape x reader #writing #my writing #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic #smutty writing #fluffy writing #cake in bed #I have no idea why I made them bathe BEFORE they got all messy but oh well

153 notes · View notes

amxns · 2 years

Photo

&&. announcing his royal highness, amon karim musa, the thirty6 year old crown prince of egypt. he is often confused with rami malek. some say that he is reticent and taciturn, but he is actually analytical and level-headed.

hi friends ! it’s been a little while since i’ve written amon so please bear with while i get my bearings skdgnjsgf, a few things have changed in his bio so even tho a lot of u have met him before, giving it a read wouldn’t be a bad idea 😘 if u would like to plot with him, pls like this !

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘀⠀ ⠀ ﹕

name. amon karim musa.

nicknames. ame, ames.

birth date. 26th october 1986.

zodiac.�� scorpio.

age. thirty6.

gender, pronouns. cis man, he + him.

orientation. bisexual, biromantic.

family. hm king muhammad ⸺ father, hm queen consort hasina ⸺ mother, hrh princess layla ⸺ half-sister.

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟐⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀⠀ ⠀ ﹕

dark hair, a little sophisticated, nice handwriting, running your hands through your hair, expensive hand cream, calm music as you fall asleep, old architecture, old notebooks, too much coffee and too little sleep, dark circles under eyes, working too hard, comfort in the silence, misty mornings, cream, the diligent scratching of pen on paper, more anxious than they’ll ever admit, missing childhood and cherishing nostalgia, a smile that never reaches the eyes.

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟑⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ 𝗯𝗶𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝘆⠀ ⠀ ﹕

when he was born, amon had his entire future written before him and backing out of that would mean disappointed not only his country but above all, his parents. as the first born child of the king and queen of egypt, amon was handed the title as the crown prince without so much as a question of whether he would be okay with it or if he’d rather someone else took the job. it seemed that everyone expected him to become king one day, so the only thing he could do was make sure he’d be a good one.

growing up was a whirlwind of lessons that he was told would one day be important for him to have learned and a responsibility that would some day be his to claim. his parents taught him to be brave and smart, they taught him how to be leader and what it took to be one. they taught him many things like fencing and horse riding, but they never taught him what it felt like to be loved. he was sure that they did love him, in their own way, but as a child he felt more like a project for them to protect than a son to share their affections with.

the palace was lonely and quiet in his childhood years, so it was only natural that amon would reflect the emotions the palace emitted from him. however, when his sister was born, there was one more body to fill the gaps and he understood what it was like to have family, then. his parents managed them as teachers would manage students, watching their every move and never leaving enough room for the love parents should show their children. so since their parents wouldn’t, amon took to loving his sister and protecting her from anything that could harm her.

however soft he became around layla, however, didn’t affect his attitude towards other people. amon became a little secluded, preferring the moments of privacy he can find in the comfort of his own bedroom, or the nights where he could sneak off and find a forgotten patch of growing flowers to read a book or write in a diary. he became hardened to his own emotions, only letting them show when around people he truly cared about and never anything more. he found comfort in his own company and started to find it hard to emphasise with other people, a fault many believed to be inherited from his parents but one he took as his own personal protection.

not having many close friends meant that amon would never be seen with a big crowd at a party. more than likely, he’d find a way to escape the celebration early so he could focus on his own ambitions instead of talking about those of others. conversations with him were met with short answers and tight nods, laughs being hard to grab from him unless you’re his sister or one of his close friends. he could never feel comfortable around too many people, and only found conversations about politics and books interesting enough to grab his attention for more than five minutes.

he could be a little unnecessarily hostile, tending to keep to himself rather than letting people get to know him, so forming connections with people is something he’s always struggled with. it’s this that makes him doubt his capabilities when it comes to him becoming king, but his similarities to his parents means that his doubts are washed away by his knowledge and all the years he spent preparing for the day that he’ll be given that title.

since he was last in the programme, amon has spent a lot of time with his father preparing for his eventual ascension to the throne. now that he’s of age, the days until he becomes king are numbered and so amon has spent a lot of time preparing. but with that preparation meant spending a lot of time around his father’s study, and on one particular evening, when most of the palace was asleep, amon was walking past during a midnight stroll when he overheard an argument between his parents. he always knew that layla was conceived through surrogacy; his parents had practically sworn him to secrecy as a child. but what he didn’t know, what nobody else knew, was that layla was the product of an affair on his father’s half, and the woman who he thought to be his parent’s surrogate was actually layla’s mother.

this information has been stewing in his mind for the past few months, wondering whether he should or should not tell layla. but his sister seemed so happy; she was married with her first child, and he didn’t want to destroy the peace by telling her something he knows will hurt her. but being around his parents, knowing what he does, became far too difficult, so he’s back in the programme so that he’s away from them and also so that he can keep an eye on layla again.

#hshqintro #infidelity tw

7 notes · View notes

youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

A Worthwhile Investment, chapter 2

Please enjoy this Shawn x Grant story. It is a part of my canon.

Thankfully, Shawn and Grant were able to sneak out undetected. Shawn knew the warehouse Norman had told them to meet at- the one Lacie worked in, roughly two blocks from the studio and not visible from it. From there, they called a cab to take them to a bar (as Norman had promised and Shawn had reminded him) and declared themselves safe.

“Uh, sorry the raid was a bust,” Shawn said.

“It wasn’t.” Norman held up a set of keys. “I can go anywhere I want in the studio now, whenever. And I saw Sammy Lawrence wearing a Bendy mask. I knew it. I knew he was a part of this. I’m gonna crack this if it kills me.”

“Sure you will,” Lacie drawled. “Mind telling us why this is your choice of hobby? Like, why are you like this?” Shawn could tell that she was using her friendly cold, judgmental tone, which was different from her genuinely cold, judgmental tone. He hoped Norman could, too.

“Like I’d tell you. What, you think I’d ask for your life story just like that?”

“I’ll tell it. I ain’t got nothing to hide. I was born to two crack-addicted pieces of shit, so I learned to rely on the parents of neighbourhood kids on days they decided not to care for me. It was like that basically my entire life before my sister sorted herself out and I moved in with her. But it taught me I could take care of myself, so I didn’t mind moving with Bertrum wherever he went, and I didn’t cry when he retired.”

“And it’s a good thing he retired, or I might not’ve met Lacie when ah did. Bein’ an immigrant, away from home for the first time an’ barely speaking teh language- it woulda been real lonely otherwise. Of course, Ah make friends easy, but I’m still glad she was one'a them.”

Lacie’s sharp eyes landed on Grant. They’d only met once before and neither had been too comfortable with the other. “And what about you, Grant? Anything interesting in your past?”

“Oh, no. Normal upbringing. Parents who loved me. Nothing special.” It was lame, but it was the truth.

The four of them kept chatting for about an hour.

How did I end up surrounded by the three strongest people I know? Grant wondered. Most of his friends growing up had been cousins or kids of family friends, and his social circle hadn’t diversified much since, until he met Shawn and Norman. Comparatively, these three were freaks. But they were all so respectable, and honestly, Shawn and Norman were some of the best friends he’d ever had.

Life in general had given Grant a lot to be thankful for as of late. The early thirties had been hard on him- after the stock market crashed, he’d gone through a job loss, the collapse of his marriage, some domestic abuse, his divorce, and losing custody of his children. But now? Things were alright. He had a new job, and the studio was, generally speaking at least, holding steady financially. Against all odds, his daughters seemed to be fine living with their mother- maybe she had been serious about working on herself for them. Grant cherished the time he did have with them, and though he hated to admit it, he was much happier divorced. And of course, now he had these two. It was while he was there, listening to the three of them talk, that he realized that he was currently the most content he’d been in years.

Shawn had had a few drinks by that point, and leaned on Grant as though he intended to fall asleep on him.

“I think I should take Shawn home. Norman, can we talk about something tomorrow? In the projector booth.”

“Of course,” Norman said. Something in the way he said it told Grant that he already knew what it would be about.

---

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Norman asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“It’s about Shawn,” Grant started. How much to say? He figured that Norman knew he was gay- very little escaped Norman’s notice, after all- but maybe Norman was only okay with that because he didn’t act on it.

“You know Sammy Lawrence?” Norman mused, looking through the window into the music room. “For a long time, he was dating his- very much male, I should mention- lyricist. I saw them making out once- this gorgeous pretty boy and this middle-aged marshmallow- I guess love is blind and all that. I’ve got no damning evidence of it, but I’d bet anything that Joey Drew is gay as well. And I could go on! This studio has more queer people than you would believe, and my powers tell me about more than just existential dreads.” There was a pause. Norman turned back to look at Grant. “So. As a living lie-detector, one of the best gaydars you’ll ever see on a straight man, and your best friend of over half a decade who would never betray you... you can tell me anything about what’s going on with him.”

Grant gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay with this. And yes, I’m considering dating Shawn.”

“Great. He likes you- I could tell.”

“Thanks. But I already knew- he kissed me suddenly about ten days ago. I didn’t know how to react, and I kind of froze up, and I told him that I liked him, but I needed to think about whether we could be together. Up until last night, I thought I’d tell him ‘no-’ I just hadn’t had the willpower to yet. And then I had an epiphany.”

“What was the epiphany?”

“I realized that I respect a bunch of very unconventional people- yourself included- so it’s okay that I’m not perfectly conventional. But... even if it’s not inherently wrong, the idea of acting on it still scares me. If my mother ever found out, it would break her heart. My father would be humiliated if anyone else knew about it, and he might not want to speak to me again. And if it got to my ex-wife, she’d do anything she could to keep me away from my kids- she might even report me. I don’t have to worry about any of that if I don’t act on it. I don’t know... is it even responsible to risk it? These are people I have obligations to. Is it worth it?”

“Well, only you can choose that. But don’t you want a chance at actual love? I mean, I sure like having a loving partner. Why give that up over the risk that someone else might find out?”

“I guess you’re right. Shawn could be my only opportunity for a while. I really don’t know if I want to get involved in whatever culture gay men have going on. If the stereotypes are true, I’d be walking into a group of dangerous people looking to take advantage of a naïve outsider. Of course, they might not be true, but I don’t want to just walk in without knowing. And anyhow, I wouldn’t know how to find anything like that if I tried.”

Norman nodded, taking some time to process everything he’d said. “Alright. Look- you’re overcomplicating a bunch of simple problems by rolling them together into one big problem. Just take it one issue at a time. You want your family to be happy? Make them happy, and don’t worry about something that won’t hurt them. Any partner you might have will know that this kind of thing has to be kept secret, and New York is a big city- you can hide it. You want to date Shawn? Date Shawn. I can tell he makes you happy. You don’t want to get into gay culture without knowing what it’s like? Then don’t. I don’t know anything about their culture, but you have no idea how many gay men are here at Joey Drew Studios. Plenty of people you can ask about it to decide if it’s your thing.”

“Wow. Thank you. You really made that all sound so simple.” Norman had a way of cutting straight to the point.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay. Heck, even if you decide not to have a love life after Shawn, I’m glad you’ll be doing it because you’re risk-adverse and not because you’re still ashamed.”

“Thanks again. Now I need to go find Shawn.”

In the end, Grant couldn’t find Shawn before it was time to get back to work, so the next day he left a note in his locker with some flowers. Like a schoolboy. Ridiculous. But that was how Shawn made him feel.

Over the next few years, their relationship went on, and off, and on again. They fought, probably more than the average couple. But overall, they were glad to have each other. It was worth it.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #grant cohen #norman polk #shawn flynn #shawn x grant #my fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

sethrine-writes · 4 years

Text

Anxiously Waiting, Wanting

Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (JJBA)

Pairing: Jotaro Kujo x Reader

Words: 3113

Warnings: Angst, Happy-hopeful ending, Feelings are hard

Summary: You startled abruptly at the large mass of warmth that encased your knee, eyes darting down to the point of contact. There, a hand grasped gently at the joint and pressed firmly, carefully, downward, stopping the unconscious, rhythmic jumping of your leg. Following the arm upward led you to the sharp gaze of Jotaro, who had seated himself to your immediate left and seemed just as guarded as ever.

For a brief second, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare.

A/N: I have dipped my toes into the JoJo universe! First time writing for it, and I gotta say, it was a bit daunting, but thanks to my lovely friends who cheered me on through it all! I hope to be writing more for these characters in the future, so we shall see how it all goes!

A super, special thanks and shout-out to my lovely friend, @kyarymell, who was so sweet and drew a lovely work of art to go along with the fic! If you haven’t checked out her stuff, please go have a gander at it! She does art and writing for multiple fandoms, so you have a nice selection to peruse!

Enjoy, you guys!

------

Focusing on anything but the impending battles ahead during the downtime of your journey was next to impossible.

With every mile closer to Egypt your group made it, the more dangerous it was quickly becoming with equally more challenging Stands attempting to thwart your advancement along the way. Danger was literally lurking in the shadows and could be present at any moment, meaning everyone had to remain highly vigilant at all times.

Even then, you could tell that Polnareff, sitting across from you at the table of some restaurant Joseph had led everyone to, seemed a little stiffer than normal, more aware of his surroundings. The others were just a bit better at hiding their awareness, but the relative quiet of the group within the noisy atmosphere surrounding you was very telling.

Despite the tense feeling in the air, you were more than grateful to have these men there beside you that knew when to take things seriously, knew how and when to watch one another's backs without a second thought.

All the better, seeing as how you just couldn't keep yourself from worrying about what dangers were ahead of you and could barely focus on what was happening several feet in front of you. They kept you anxious, the thoughts running through your head, all the what-if scenarios and imaginings of how the fight in Egypt would play out.

Would you make it in time to stop this Dio guy? Would you all even be enough to defeat him? How many more people would have to get hurt or die just because the sick, petty bastard with a century-old grudge against an entire family lineage-

You startled abruptly at the large mass of warmth that encased your knee, eyes darting down to the point of contact. There, a hand grasped gently at the joint and pressed firmly, carefully, downward, stopping the unconscious, rhythmic jumping of your leg. Following the arm upward led you to the sharp gaze of Jotaro, who had seated himself to your immediate left and seemed just as guarded as ever.

For a brief second, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare.

"Your leg keeps moving," he groused after a pause, "it's annoying."

A little glimmer of annoyance at his own words found its way inside you, a tiny zing of petulance that shot through your body and disappeared just as quickly. It was a defensive reaction, one that couldn't be helped when you felt as if you were being belittled or berated in some way, though you knew that you were not.

It was just the way Jotaro was, or at least how he presented himself, when he spoke.

He was all surface-level bastard with a calm and collected facade, for the most part, haughty words meant to burn only hiding just how well and truly pissed he was at the time. When facing enemies or those who sought to provoke him, that perceived anger of his could reach bone-deep and became a dangerous boon to his fists as well as his Stand.

Through all of that, however, you had come to realize that he really had a lot of care, even if he seemed less than capable. He had a heart bigger than most people you knew, one that was carefully guarded and only shined through to those who truly got the chance to understand him, to know him on a more personal level.

You may not have been there completely, just yet, but you were getting the gist of how he worked, most times.

It was because of this knowledge that you were able to keep your cool, knowing full well that even though his words sounded harsh on the surface, there was no real sting to them.

You were almost tempted to think that he was worried about you.

"Sorry, I'll try to stop," you answered, leaning up a little straighter in your chair with a small smile, "but no promises."

His eyes, so perceptibly observant, remained locked onto yours for only a moment longer before he looked away.

"Gimme a break," he muttered under his breath, the familiar sigh nearly making you chuckle.

A waiter came by not a moment later, and everyone began listing off their preferred meals for the night, conversation finally beginning to flow after the tension in the air had been broken.

Jotaro's hand remained on your knee for a long while, an almost absent reminder to keep still, a secret reminder of his care. It grounded you in a way you couldn't explain. You didn't dare pull away; you didn't want him to pull away, either.

---

The entirety of the group was lucky enough to have their hotel rooms on the same floor, for once, if a bit dispersed. With things becoming more dangerous, everyone was paired up to ensure no one was left alone and vulnerable. Jotaro just so happened to be your lucky partner for the night, which meant a quiet room and the possibility of better sleep.

Unfortunately for you, your mind was still restless with looming thoughts, unsettling scenarios playing out wildly in your head without end. The night was still early, barely past ten, but you were too tense to fully calm down, and with each passing minute, it felt as if the anxiety welling within was full to bursting, and you were dangerously on the verge of giving yourself a full-blown mental breakdown.

You had cherished the idea of a quiet room, beforehand. At that moment, however, the silence was cloying, suffocating.

Subconsciously, your fingers began to drum against the small desk table you were sat at, eyes glossed over as you stared out the window. You were only vaguely aware of the sound against the wooden surface, mutely aware in a way that became your sole focus, and for several long minutes, the gentle noise kept you from completely drowning in your hectic thoughts.

Something touched the back of your hand, a single point of contact that immediately broke you out of your self-induced trance. Your fingers stopped their drumming, made to lay flat by the gentle yet insistent pressure being applied from a lone finger that was not your own. Following the line of a darkly-clad arm had you nearly straining to meet the eyes of your room partner.

Jotaro loomed over you, his stare as sharp as ever as he glowered from above. You stared back, watching as his eyes narrowed the longer you kept the contact. After a few seconds, you shied away from the intimidating lock of his eyes and down at your now flat hand against the table, his finger still pressing against your skin.

"Oh, right! Annoying, got it," you said, nearly stammering in your embarrassment.

You pulled away from his touch with ease, placing your hands in your lap and clasping them together to lessen the urge of putting them back on the table. Jotaro moved to cross his arms over his chest, hovering a moment longer before stepping back until he was leaning against the wall.

Though you had looked away, you could still feel his gaze on you as if he were still touching you, the intensity nearly making you shiver. Why you had his utmost focus was beyond you at that moment, but his silence was starting to get to you.

Already, you could feel the need to move something, your leg giving a couple half-hearted bounces before you willed it back into submission. You began picking at your fingernails next, trying your best to keep the restless energy within contained. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and it was driving you crazy to be in a space that was so damn quiet.

"I'm going for a walk," you mumbled out abruptly, standing just as quickly and having to physically slow yourself from making a mad dash to the door. You passed by Jotaro, keeping your eyes locked ahead of you with every step closer to the outside, fingers just touching the handle of the doorknob…

Fast as lightning, you turned on your heel, nearly yelling out your surprise at the large hand coming out and all but slamming against the door beside your head. Your Stand's arm popped out reflexively, elongated nails dripping with poison primed and at the ready for an attack, pressing warningly against the muscular purple arm caging you in.

In front of you stood Jotaro, arms still crossed against his chest as he used his own Stand to keep you in place, Star Platinum's upper body hovering just to the side of him. His eyes still held their narrowed stance, though he seemed angrier than he had mere moments ago.

Had you actually done something to piss him off?

No, no, that wasn't quite right. He wasn't angry, despite the scowl that presented itself on his face. If anything, he looked more on the side of extremely frustrated, though that had a penchant for quickly turning into anger if the situation turned for the worse.

"Jesus, Jotaro, don't do that," you gasped out, feeling as if your heart would leap out of your chest at any moment. "I could have poisoned you without a second thought!"

"Why did you hesitate?"

You startled when Jotaro stepped closer, bewilderment turning into confusion at his question.

"Why did I-? Because it was you! I wouldn't just actively attack you like that, even on a bad day."

If anything, your answer seemed to deepen the frown marring his features.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he countered.

"What do you even mean by that? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You're being careless. It's starting to piss me off."

"Excuse me?" you questioned, beginning to feel angry, yourself.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

The absolute nerve!

"If you've got a problem with me, then say it instead of trying to intimidate me into doing something brash. You nearly bashed my head in, and you want to talk to me about being careless-!"

"Shut up! You're not listening!"

His sudden exclamation had you pausing, despite wanting to reflexively retaliate in a similarly heated fashion. You took that moment to look him over, doing your best to read between the lines of the serious facade Jotaro tended to keep.

There was something there, hidden in the present frustration and the steel of his gaze. Jotaro's immediate response when all hot and bothered was to fight, of course, but there were no enemies to be seen, nothing that should have set him off into using Star Platinum in the way he had. He wasn't angry, not at you, at least, and yet he felt it necessary to provoke you - no, not provoke; he was trying to gain your attention through the use of his Stand.

His expression bore annoyance, yet his eyes...

"Talk to me," he finally spoke, words surprisingly gentle for how worked up he had gotten, and it absolutely floored you just how quickly his demeanor had changed.

Your eyes widened before looking away, once more feeling embarrassed, though for an entirely different reason. You finally called back your Stand, taking a slow breath in before letting it out in a huff.

"I'm-"

You hesitated, looking back up at Jotaro's serious visage, realizing the longer you looked at him that he was, in his own rough way, trying to help. With another sigh, you visibly sank against the door

"I'm tired, Jotaro. God, I'm just so tired and afraid of what will happen in the next ten days, if we even have that much time left to find this bastard. I can't stop thinking about it, and it's driving me crazy!"

Your hands came up momentarily to rub against your face brusquely, dropping back to your sides to fiddle with the hemming if your shirt.

"I'm constantly worrying about every little thing, all the possibilities of good and bad outcomes in our future. To be honest, a small part of me wants nothing more than to give up, or give in, just end it and save myself from all this mess and heartache."

"Why are you still here, then?"

His voice was still gentle, if a bit rough. He wasn't trying to be accusing, just asking a simple question. Even so, you worried he thought of you as weak, now, perhaps unable to be counted on when the time would inevitably call for it. You couldn’t blame him for the thought.

"Because I believe in you," you answered with conviction. "Even if I'm scared, even if I'm still uncertain just how this is all gonna play out, I still believe we'll find a way through all this. You will find a way, and that's what keeps me here. You, Jotaro."

‘I stay because of you.’

The following silence was different from the suffocating one you had previously been trying to escape. It gave you time to reflect on your thoughts in a different light, having finally gotten out the summarized brunt of all your worries.

You hadn't quite meant to express so much, especially with the sentiment of affection still being so new to form between you both. There was no time to explore the feeling, no time to ponder how different things could have been, would have been, had you not stumbled your way, quite literally at the time, into Kujo, Jotaro's life.

And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to despise a single moment of the trip so far, of the newfound relationships you had made and of the growing strength within yourself. Everyone would agree, you were sure of it, even with the perils that had come and gone and the dangers still present on the horizon.

Despite all your warring thoughts, you couldn't deny that you were the happiest you had ever been, spending the last nearly month and a half with the eccentric group of Stand users you had come to call your friends.

And it was all thanks to Jotaro.

"You're right."

You blinked as the silence was broken, unable to comprehend the almost-there smile suddenly making its appearance on Jotaro's face.

From your peripheral, you could see Star Platinum's hand pulling away from the door, gasping as gentle fingers just barely grazed the side of your cheek as they passed by before disappearing altogether. It was barely any pressure at all, and you were almost sure it had been an accidental thing...almost.

The room felt much warmer, all of a sudden.

"We will find a way," he continued, arms uncrossing as his hands found purchase within his coat pockets, stance becoming that of assured confidence. "Dio won't know what fucking hit him."

He took a small step back, giving you a little more room to breathe, but still keeping close as if he had more to say.

"For what it's worth to you, you have my trust."

'I believe in you, too.'

Your breath hitched at his confession, your mind finally being able to piece together the things he wasn't saying. As you had always suspected, there was care in his actions, always present if one were to read between the lines.

He was a difficult one, but you felt that you were starting to really get it.

With a sudden boost from your Stand, you became a little taller, even closer to Jotaro's face than you had ever been. His gaze seemed to widen by a fraction at your unexpected closeness, something you wouldn't have noticed had you not met him eye-to-eye, but it was a reaction you hadn't anticipated. Even more surprising was how incredibly still he had become in your immediate presence.

If he truly wanted to, he could push you away with ease by either his own hand or Star's, say a harsh word or two to get you to back off. Instead, he allowed you into his space, a choice solely based on his trust in you, his care for you, and it was nearly as overwhelming a feeling as your warring anxiousness.

You smiled, soft and sweet, before leaning in steadily closer, closer, closer still, emboldened by Jotaro's words and his acceptance.

It was a quick thing, the small kiss you planted at the corner of his mouth, a gentle press of your lips transparently branding his skin with a promise you hoped beyond all hope you could keep. It was the only reassurance you could give at that moment, and you were almost certain it was all he would truly need to understand.

Pulling away, you were lowered back to the floor by your Stand, of which dispersed immediately after. Your smile was still soft, small as it was, as you gazed into the vibrant blue of Jotaro's intense stare.

"When we win this whole thing," you murmured with intent, "when that bastard is finally good and gone, I'm gonna need that back, got it?"

'If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you properly.'

The silence that followed was only a few seconds, but reality felt almost slowed, tense in a way that would make or break the moment.

Jotaro sighed as he adjusted the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes behind its dark shadow. Had you still been closer, you would almost certainly have seen the barest color of heat against his skin.

"Gimme a break," he muttered, but the promise in his actions held steadfast and concrete. The tension released, and the air between you both felt clearer than it had in weeks.

'Looking forward to it.'

"I'm still going for that walk, by the way," you mentioned while reaching for the door handle, hand pausing only a moment as the cold metal touched your palm, almost expecting for Star to make his appearance again. To your relief, all was still.

You followed through with the motion, stepping out into the hotel hallway without any further obstructions. When you made to turn and shut the door, however, Jotaro was right behind you, taking up the frame with his solid, semi-crouched form.

Truly, the Joestar men were absolute giants.

"You're coming too, then?" you questioned, knowing full well he would follow you, regardless if you protested.

"Not leaving you by yourself," he responded while shutting the door, taking the initiative and leading you towards the elevators.

"Gonna leave me in the dust, though, that's for sure," you playfully mused as you made to catch up with his long stride, smiling to yourself.

Jotaro offered only a hum of acknowledgement to your bantering, which, in itself, was his own smile shining through.

Maybe this time, the anxious feelings wouldn't linger quite as long as before.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo part 3 #stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo #reader #reader-insert #gn!reader

110 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years

Text

Hike-Story

So...I’ve been on a hike today with friends and I’ve been told a lovely local legend of my country and region. I’ve decided to put it into a short story with Thorin.

It’s a sort of prequel to all the amazing stories some authors write about Thorin and OCs while already under the Mountain... Please feel free to reblog and further the local saga of Oberschlinden 😊

So...here goes...

Black

Prologue

In a valley hidden within a dark forest, there were once two villages, very different from one another and yet doomed to suffer the same fate.

The first village was prosperous and industrious and its inhabitants knew much success in their bountiful endeavours, whereas the second village was merry and joyous, filled with music and celebrations all year round.

One day, a weary gleeman came this way and asked to be lodged and fed in exchange for a tune, but the upstanding villagers turned him away for they were much afeared that he had come to rob them of their wealth and goods. “We have no need for your futile, frivolous shenanigans.” They claimed and forbade him to set foot into their town.

Understanding what they were really afraid of, the man replied: “So be it, I should not have taken a single coin that had not been given to me freely. For your callous ignominy, I shall leave you something instead.”

And with these words, he turned around and headed to the other village across the valley.

Here, he was welcomed with open arms. He was fed and housed and after having regained his strength, he went on his merry way again to entertain and amuse other villages. The villagers were much aggrieved about his departure as they had greatly enjoyed his contribution to their daily merriment. They let him leave with their best wishes, nonetheless, for they were an indolent people, unable and unwilling to defend their interests with any kind of forcefulness.

A shadow fell over the valley. A dark sickness befell the first village and rapidly spread across the valley to the other one that had taken no precautions to keep the grim reaper out. Too busy had they been celebrating life and the sinking sun to pay any heed to the pestilence creeping their way.

This is how the first village learned that one who is too afraid to lose what he cannot keep, might well be given what he cannot get rid of, and the second village understood that evil spread faster than fell the night and crept, insidious, into every crack if not actively opposed. Like moss covering the immobile stone, the plague washed over the villages and left none but two women standing.

One of those women would rail and wail all day long, lamenting the loss of her glorious life and of her dear family, until madness took her and she returned to her empty house to wait for death to be her last visitor.

The other one, however, took it upon herself to do penance for the sins of her valley and all its ghostly inhabitants that were heard in the moaning of the wind and the gurgling of the brook.

This is her story.

The sun was low in the sky already when she was startled by the sound of footsteps behind her, making her look up in amazement.

“Good day, good woman, I am a blacksmith and I am looking for the prosperous village hidden in this valley. I am on my way back to my people and I am willing to work in exchange for food and lodging. May you point out the way to me, please?” A gruff voice resounded and a man stepped out of the shadow of the dense foliage.

He was short and stout, unlike any other man she had ever seen in her life, and she was so surprised by his appearance that it took a moment for her to react to his words.

“Good day, Master Dwarf,” she replied courteously, for she now saw that this was what he was, “I am sorry to confess that this village no longer exists. Neither does its sister. I am the last living soul in these parts.”

He looked much alarmed at her words.

“Moreover, there is a sickness lying over the valley. It is not advisable to traverse it.” She went on, getting up from her kneeling position at the foot of the little chapel. “Master Dwarf, I live at the other side of this cursed valley, it is a two-hour walk and the light is failing. I offer you my guidance around the affected area and my hospitality.” She spoke, bowing her head deferentially.

The dwarf seemed to ponder her words for a moment, then nodded.

“Step where I step; the path is treacherous and night shall be upon us soon.” She warned and set out.

Every day, she made her way along the rocky outcrops and the stony ledges, through the dense foliage of the underbrush and the silent desert of trees, to circle the whole valley and pray for hours at the foot of the small chapel for the souls of those who had fallen prey to sickness, stubbornness and wicked ignorance.

Along the way, she collected herbs and mushrooms to sustain herself and produce ointments and potions she sold once a month in the next village, just beyond the valley.

She led a lonely life, but she was unerring in her penance. Those two villages that had been mother and father to her for most of her adult life had done wrong and had been smitten for it by the hand of God. There was nobody left to ask for forgiveness, but her.

“Dwarves have steady steps and exceptional eyesight, even in the darkness. Worry not for me.” The man, for she could not call him anything else than that, answered.

He was well-grown, like an oak, strong and sturdy; he seemed tired though and she vowed that she would not commit the same mistake her forefathers and elders had made; she would be a gracious host. Indeed, she would salve the burns on his bare arms and give him the best parts of whatever she would find in her traps along her daily trek.

“Have you no kin, woman?” He asked after they had mounted a steep rocky ledge leading them through dense undergrowth from which she would extract berries and healing herbs to stow away in the satchels she carried on her back.

“I have no kin, Master Dwarf.” She shrugged, extending her hand to him when they came to a brook. The stones were slippery and wont to shift beneath the unfamiliar foot.

He just chuckled, a sound reminiscent of the big rockslide that had occurred a few months ago, and leapt easily enough across the narrow expanse of wet pebbles.

For a creature looking this heavy, he was surprisingly agile, she thought. She knew nothing about dwarves of course. In her nan’s tales, there had been mentions of those mysterious man-like beings who lived under mountains and in golden halls, but she had imagined them smaller and less…beautiful than what she saw in front of her.

As a matter of fact, she could not remember ever having seen a man quite as enchanting as the one following her swift steps effortlessly. There were beads in his hair that shimmered in the dying light and his eyes were the colour of the great river rushing through the valley; indeed, he was the closest she had ever come to a genuine fairy tale.

“What happened here?” He inquired, as they reached the highest ledge and looked down on the villages, already plunged in deep shadows and obviously deserted.

“A plague broke out and took every living soul. It is said that it was the refusal of hospitality by this village,” she pointed to one cluster of houses, “and the lack of zeal or backbone of that one,” she pointed to the opposite side of the valley, “that led to their doom.”

She had been there, she had seen the people who had been her friends and family die a miserable, painful death and she had waited for the blight to fall upon her as well. It had never come and now, she was the watcher of the dead valley; in a world of ghosts, there was none who felt less alive than her, walking along the deserted ruins of her existence day after day.

“Thank you for warning me.” He had a good voice, she thought, low and kind. It was a miracle to stumble upon another living being, but his voice and the empathy in his eyes felt like a caress upon her bruised soul.

“It is my duty, Master Dwarf. I shall stand in harm’s way as long as I can.”

“My name is Thorin.” He declared in an almost questioning voice. He had been reticent to divulge his name, she realised and turned around to bow deeply.

“Come along, Master Thorin. The light is fading fast now.” She urged him on, almost running along the rocky paths, her feet sending up sprays of pebbles in her wake.

They walked on tirelessly for a long time, until they reached a fallen tree stump that had not been there when she had come this way earlier in the day.

Clambering over the dead wood swiftly, Thorin extended his arms, in turn, to her. She stepped closer and uttered a small cry of astonishment when he simply lifted her over the obstacle as if she weighed nothing at all. “Thank you, Master Thorin.” She bowed again.

He smelled like the pines that grew beyond the valley, she noticed, and like life. Everything about him was painfully alive: the vivid intelligence of his eyes, the small smirk he gave her on account of her breathless incredulity, and the warmth of his hands on her ribs that left a palpable impression.

As she walked on, nearing the point where the path would dip drastically and the danger doubled, she came to accept that she would cherish this encounter until the end of her days.

Maybe God had heard her prayers and granted her the small solace of seeing another soul, of speaking to someone who actually answered and of feeling living flesh upon her own once more.

She extricated a small rabbit from the trap she had laid on the highest crest and pushed it down into her satchel as well, gesturing to the silent valley with a sense of pride.

“This is home. And there’s my hut.” She pointed to a small wooden house at the far end of the valley, nestled between two tiny hills and reflecting the last rays of sun.

The light was growing dimmer now and the way down was treacherous even in broad daylight. “Permit me, Mistress.” He gave her a mocking smile and took her hand.

It felt huge and calloused, but its roughness comforted her. She had lived in this rocky wilderness for years now and the feeling of warm stones would always be synonymous with home to her.

To her shame and despair, she tottered several times on their way down and when Thorin slung his arm around her waist and steadied her, she did not object.

Finally, they reached the little plateau she called her own.

“Give me your boots.” She asked and when he did, she set them aside to be cleaned afterwards.

Stoking the fire, she started taking the small rabbit apart and tossing the various leaves and mushrooms she had collected into the pot filled with fresh water. She would deplete her stocks for him; she would not be a bad host like the first villagers. Also, she would mend his socks, tend to his injuries and clean his boots; she would not be a slovenly scallywag like the second villagers either.

“Make yourself at home.” She invited him, giving him the best chair and a blanket she had woven herself in her youth.

“Are you really all alone?” He asked her, as she sat on the floor, grinding herbs into a paste with devoted focus. “Yes, Master Dwarf.” She smiled, taking his hand and spreading the ointment gingerly on the burns dotting his strong forearms.

“Do you like being alone?” He pressed on, wincing as the wet unguent made his wounds smart.

“It is my punishment and my expiation.” She replied while stirring the stew she was preparing.

His eyes settled heavily on her face and she could read sympathy and sadness in those dark, blue lakes shot through with silver. He looked rather like a gem hewn from precious stone himself, she had to admit, feeling drawn to the solidity of his frame and the living warmth of his gaze.

“Eat, Master Thorin.” She handed him a deep bowl, containing most of the mushrooms and all of the meat she had managed to scrape off the scrawny rabbit.

“What about you?” He asked, suspicious, when she filled a goblet with the fragrant broth.

“Eat.” She encouraged him again. He had obviously known a long and tiresome road and she wanted him to feel safe and cared for; she was thankful for the chance to do right by him.

It was a small redemption of her blood to be a good host after the opposite reaction had plunged her people into extinction.

He looked relaxed now, sitting by the fire, listening to her hum to herself while she cleaned his boots and mended his clothing. “Your gifts are wasted on the dead.” He suddenly said.

“Beg your pardon?” She looked up from polishing his boots, a questioning expression in her eyes.

“You have been a good host to me, you’re a steady cook and a knowledgeable reader of nature. Come with me.”

She blinked. She knew not what he was talking about.

“I am, as I said, on my way to rejoin my kin. Come with me, there is nothing here for you but desolation and loneliness. There are people yet alive beyond this valley and they could greatly benefit from your knowledge…and your sweet nature. Come with me! Be my travel companion!” He reiterated when she didn’t reply.

“I cannot…I am here to…” - “You are here to wait for the next weary traveller and right the wrong inflicted by and upon your people. Consider it done, Mahal has heard you child, I am Thorin, and I shall be King under the Mountain one day. I might be here to deliver you and take you away from this place.” He interrupted her harshly.

A king, she thought, a future king. What prevented him from being king now?

“It is a hard life amongst my people; there will be deprivation and long, cold nights.” He warned her, but she simply motioned to the small hut they sat in while the wind howled with furious intensity outside.

“But…it is a life. I offer you a life, not an easy one, not a pretty one necessarily, but a life. Be the watcher of the living, be the minder of the sick, be the guide of the hale-bodied; leave behind your dead and let them find their peace. Come with me!”

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. He was right; he might have been the sign she had been waiting for all these years.

Epilogue:

The last survivor of the great plague that had ravaged the valley and left it inhabited forevermore was never seen again. People say, she just vanished at some point. Some hold the belief that she has been carried away by fairies and others claim that on windy nights, one could see her walk along the stony ledges on her eternal way to the abandoned chapel.

We shall never know for sure what really happened to that sole survivor, but her name disappeared from the ledgers, never to be mentioned again in the books of men.

#thorin oakenshield #FanFiction #folklore #imagine #writing #hike #oberschlinder #blacksmith thorin #cursed village #thorin thursday #richard armitage #prologue #go on if you can

4 notes · View notes

banghwa · 2 years

Note

My crushes are always unattainable. I'll never be good enough for the people I love and the ones who claim to like me just want to use me. I've never been in a proper relationship and I already know I'm going to die alone. It doesn't help all of my friends are basically online and i have a shitty family. I feel like no one cares about me and i want a relationship so bad. People are usually like "but relationships aren't everything you know it doesn't matter" as if that helps. I want someone who loves me and is willing to take care of me. My current crush is amazing. He's attractive, kind, hard working, has a amazing high paying job, has tattoos and piercings, he has a dog he loves so much, he's multi talented and basically everything I want in a man. But i know basically everyone else has a crush on him too and he's probably gonna pick a high scale rich skinny girl to match but everytime i see his kindness it hurts. I want him to like me but let's be honest I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough. It hurts when no one actually loves you. And having no friends makes you yearn for the perfect romantic relationship more ...

i am kissing your forehead so so softly. listen to me. you dont need to be good enough for anyone. you arent here to be "good enough." the people who will love you and cherish you the way you need will now that, they will see you for the treasure that you are, and they will love you. i know how you feel, i promise im not just saying that. i have exactly one real irl friend, i havent been in a relationship in years and they were all soul-sucking. i dont even get crushes anymore, i think my heart has given up on all that. loneliness is a constant for me too. some days it get so exhausting and terrifying how lonely i feel. but at the same time we do have people who love us, and we have people who will love us, whether we know them already or not. i know it might hurt a lot right now, but this is nowhere near the end for us. we will meet people who will wash our feet and comb our hair when we need it. the hard part is letting ourselves go out and find them despite the things we might not like about ourselves. i really wish i could give you more than just a few sentences of encouragement, just know that i wish you well and even if i dont know you i love love love you. tell your friends you love them, and please take care of yourself, you deserve it. and i hope someday soon you're able to remind yourself you do with more ease <3

tell me about your crush on anon 💘

#i wish i could be better help lovely <3 im wishing you better days #💌#anonymous

2 notes · View notes

imyourbuddie · 4 years

Text

Christmas Comes A Knockin'

January 5th, 2019

Dear Eddie,

I know you’ve only just left, but I already miss you. And Christopher misses you. Tonight we made your favourite for dinner and Chris accidentally set out three plates. It was rough, but he felt better after Papa Buck’s special hot chocolate.

You know, I never thought I’d have much use of this notebook you gave me last Christmas, yet here we are.

Anyway, missing you. Stay safe.

Buck

January 30th, 2019

Eddie you jackass,

I don’t know how to send you letters. They told me you’re on some sort of highly classified mission and there’s no communication. Seriously? Some secret military black ops bullshit and you didn’t tell me? If you die on me, Edmundo Diaz, I will kill you. You hear me? I will fucking kill you.

Buck

March 23rd, 2019

Hey Eddie,

Chris got his first ribbon today at the science fair. He’s so proud and we have pictures that we’re saving for when you get back. I know he’s not supposed to get cookies and hot chocolate before bed, but I figure we make an exception for a special night. Hope all’s well.

Missing you.

Buck

April 1st, 2019

Hen and Chim can walk off a cliff, together. They’re too damn old to be playing April Fools tricks on me! I’m going to be eating glitter for days. Days!

Anway, missing you. Loving you.

Buck

April, 16th, 2019

Feliz cumpleaños, mi amo! See, I’m learning! Chris helped me make you a cake. It’s chocolate and we ate a slice on your behalf. Wherever you are, I hope you’re celebrating.

Missing you. Always missing you.

Buck

May 1st, 2019

Chris was called into the principal’s office today. The other little fuck face claims Chris tripped him on purpose with his cane. His bitch of a mother wanted a written apology and one day suspension. I can’t even right now. Why are people such assholes? Chris says he didn’t do it and I believe him. God, I hate people sometimes.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this without you.

Buck

May 13th, 2019

Chris and I went to the pier for his birthday. It’s kinda special and it felt easier being there when it’s just us. We had churros, cake, lemonade, and maybe that was a bit too much sugar, but he’s passed out now. Yay sugar crash.

He says you owe him a birthday present but I got your back. Now you owe me for being so brilliantly considerate. I’ll be collecting when you get home.

Loving you,

Buck

June 28th, 2019

I heard gunshots coming from the cemetery while we were answering a call. I don’t know if it was a military funeral, but...they’d call me if something happened, right? You’re not so off the grid that I’ll be left wondering for the rest of my life? I’m you husband. They can’t not tell me, right?

Eddie, please, I miss you so much.

Buck

July 3rd, 2019

Chris gave me a miniature fire truck for my birthday. He’s the sweetest child a man can ask for. Really. The gang got me a cake and Chim shoved my face in it. That asshole. It’s a good thing I love him.

It’s not the same without you here, though. I hope you’re thinking of me.

Buck

July 16th, 2019

We went to the aquarium today. They played Baby Shark on repeat and now all I can think about is baby shark do do do do do do do and it’s driving me nuts. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. I may or may not have thrown an octopus plushie at him over it.

Anyway, we saw all sorts of crazy stuff, and Chris loved the dolphin show. We’ll have to go again when you get back. The mango slushie at the cafeteria is magnificent.

Missing you always.

Buck

September 15th, 2019

I miss summer vacation. I know, getting child care is always a pain in the ass, but I loved hanging out with Chris. When I’m with him, it’s like being with a small piece of you, and that made things a little easier. Now that he’s back in school, it feels like you leaving all over again.

It gets pretty lonely at night sometimes. Stay safe and come back to me. To us.

Loving you.

Buck

November 11th, 2019

We’re thinking of you. All of us.

Love,

Buck

November 28th, 2019

I made us Thanksgiving dinner at the station. Chris had a blast and the guys loved having him there. We’re both so stuffed right now we’ve not left the couch even though bedtime was half an hour ago. Chris wanted to say hi, he says I can write for him while he talks, so here goes.

Hi Daddy,

Papa gave me the biggest slice of pumpkin pie tonight, and it was so huge I almost didn’t finish it. But I did. Denny and I got to ride in the fire truck and it’s so cool you get to ride it every day at work. Papa says it’s time for bed now, I love you Daddy, and I miss you.

Christopher and Buck

December 5th, 2019

Why are Hallmark’s movies out already? I’m not ready. We don’t have enough tissues at the house. I need to buy more tomorrow because I used up the last box watching The Knight Before Christmas.

Wherever you are, have a pumpkin spice latte for me.

Buck

December 5th, 2019

Eddie I couldn’t sleep, so I stared at the ceiling talking to myself, pretending you’re here next to me. Remember when you first kissed me? I thought I was drowning and you kissed me. I know it wasn’t a real kiss, you were trying to keep me alive, but our lips touched, and it brought me back, you know? You brought me back when I thought I was dying. When I was ready to give up.

You’re not here to kiss me now, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to wait until you get home to me, to Chris, and I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.

Always loving you.

Buck

December 16th, 2019

Chris had his Christmas concert at school today. The whole unit came to watch. Mama Grant had a camera so we can record it for you. She’s really good with that thing too, even ran to the front of the stage so she could get some closeups. Chris was fantastic. Voice of an angel, I swear. We all went for ice cream after, and no, Edmundo, it’s never too cold for ice cream.

We put up the tree last weekend, and Chris came home with these cookie ornaments they made at school. There’s one for you, too, with your name on it, so come get it, big boy.

Cap says we’re going to have our Christmas party on the 23rd so people can go home and celebrate with their families for actual Christmas. Carla offered to watch Chris, but I’m considering taking him with me. It’s a family friendly party, so maybe Denny will be there too.

Anyway, this is getting long. Loving you,

Buck

December 23th, 2019

Gonna take Chris to the party with me. He’s pumped. Who knew being a parent could feel like this?

I’m always so grateful that you let me into your little family. You gave me Chris, and he’s the best present a guy could ask for. For every Christmas for the rest of my life.

Loving you.

Buck

===

Buck closes his notebook and tucks the pen into the elastic loop attached to the cover. His finger twitches, and he wants to open the book and write our every little thing going through his head right now. Every emotion. But he can’t. It’s too damn painful. And Eddie’s not here.

“Papa?” Chris calls from the bathroom. “Can you help me?”

Buck scrubs a hand down his face and clears his throat, willing the prickle of tears to go away. “Yeah, bud, be right there.”

When he pops his head into the bathroom, Chris is struggling with his bowtie. Buck wanted to get him a pre-tied one, but Chris insisted on the real deal. There’s a little card that came with the tie with diagrams on how to make the bow. Buck studies it, tries and fails a couple times, but eventually he gets a semi decent looking bow that sits snug under the collar of Chris’ shirt.

“There you go,” he says, patting down the lapels of Chris’ suit jacket.

“Thanks, Papa.”

Buck’s chest swells, like it does every time Chris calls him Papa. It started as Papa Buck, but somewhere between Buck moving in and his and Eddie’s wedding, he became just Papa. It was a little strange at first, but it didn’t take long before Buck forgets that Chris isn’t his biological son. He loves Chris the same way he loves Maddie and his parents, but even more so because he never knew he could be so fiercely protective of a single human being.

Some days, Buck muses he loves Chris more than he loves Eddie, and that’s saying something.

Buck stares into the mirror, his eyes meeting Chris’, and they both smile. “Ready?” Buck asks as he straightens his tie.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Chris leads the way, and Buck follows him out of the bathroom, through the living room, and out the front door. December in LA is mild at best, but Buck shivers as he helps Chris into the car. He looks behind him, then around, but there’s no one there.

“Hm.”

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks.

Buck looks over his shoulder once more, then shakes his head. “Nothing, little man, let’s go.”

The drive to the station is uneventful, but Buck can’t shake that weird feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach. They pull into the parking lot just as Hen, Karen, and Denny pile out of their car, and Buck’s glad he decided to bring Chris afterall.

Bobby’s whole family is here too, along with Michael, and as the spiked eggnog got passed around more than once, that uneasy feeling dissipates into something warm and fuzzy. Buck’s a little buzzed, but only enough to take the edge off.

Chris, Denny, and Harry are off playing somewhere. Buck finds a spot with line of sight to the children and takes a seat, cradling his overstuffed stomach. He doesn’t know why he does this, but he just can’t stop himself from overeating when it’s a holiday. It’s a good thing he’s surrounded by LA’s finest paramedics incase he keels over from too much turkey.

The upstairs lounge is buzzing with people. Firefighters and their families, and Buck tries not to let Eddie’s absence dampen his Christmas spirit. The rest of his family is right here, and he loves and cherishes them, and having Chris here makes up for the fact that Eddie isn’t.

And that’s enough. It has to be.

Buck contemplates a third eggnog, but decides against it. They still need to get home after, and Buck will be damned if he puts Chris’ life in danger just because he’s feeling a little maudlin and a lot lonely. He heaves out of the chair and heads for the trays of cookies and pastries laid out on a long table. If he can’t drink his sorrows away, he’ll just eat his feelings tonight instead.

Somewhere behind him, Chris gasps. Buck’s heart drops through the floor and he spins to find Chris making a mad dash for the stairs. He acts before he’s had time to process, and he’s running up behind Chris, who’s half way down the first flight of stairs, before he sees what Chris is running towards.

Or who.

Down in the engine bay is a lone figure dressed in army fatigues with the brightest hazel eyes Buck’s ever known. His heart jumps into his throat, and the hubbub of the party fades as his eyes meet Eddie’s for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

They stand there, frozen, staring at each other, and a million things pass in that wide chasm between them. A whole year’s worth of fear and sadness and loneliness. Of love and longing and hope. Buck gets a little lightheaded, and that’s when he realizes he’s been holding his breath. He huffs, and with that single breath, every doubt he’s had this year flows out of him.

Eddie’s lips twitch into a rueful smile, that smile splitting impossibly wide when he sees Chris coming around the corner and down the second flight of stairs.

“Daddy!” Chris’ jubilant shout breaks the freezing spell Eddie and Buck are under, and they move in sync.

“Christopher, mijo. I’ve missed you so so much.” Eddie’s muffled voice drifts up as he clutches Chris to his chest.

When Buck finally, finally makes his way down the steps, he stops just short.

He’s dreamt of this moment, played it in his head over and over and over, imagined every possible way it could play out, but everything he imagined pales in comparison. Buck’s chest aches in that bittersweet, delicious way he never knew he could feel, and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying.

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t ruin the moment. Just don’t, Buck.

Eddie looks up over Chris’ head, and his red-rimmed eyes glisten with unshed tears. And that fucking does it. Buck’s eyes burn, and his nose stuffs up even more as he heaves for breath. His vision blurs, and everything turns into a watery mosaic. Eddie reaches for him, Chris still tucked against his chest, and Buck steps into the embrace like his life depends on it.

When Buck’s arms wrap around Eddie’s actual, solid form, every dam he put up breaks, and the first of many sobs heaves out of him. Chris turns around, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck, and then Eddie’s lips are on his skin. Warm, dry, and a little chapped.

They’re on the floor, and Chris is in Buck’s lap, and Eddie’s hands are cupping Buck’s cheeks and Buck can’t fucking breathe. Can’t fucking see because his eyes are leaking like broken faucets. But he doesn’t need to see to know Eddie’s here, in his arms, and his presence is answer enough to all of Buck’s unanswered letters.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie rasps, his lips hovering on the corner of Buck’s mouth.

Buck wants to say something, anything, but all that comes out is another sob. Eddie chuckles, then his lips press against Buck’s in a soft, chaste kiss. “Evan, Ev, I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Papa missed you,” Chris pipes up between them.

Eddie’s eyes mist, and his arms slip around Buck’s shoulders. “I missed Papa too. Missed you both so, so much.”

“Are you coming home, Daddy?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and his bright eyes lock on Buck’s with a conviction. “I’m coming home. For good.”

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie christmas advent #coming home #discord buddie advent #imyourbuddie writes #my writing #merry christmas

580 notes · View notes

needtherapy · 3 years

Text

soaring, carried aloft on the wind...continued 23

An arranged-marriage story for Xichen and Mingjue, in another time and another place.

The Beifeng, the mighty empire of the north, invaded more than a year ago, moving inexorably south and east.

In order to buy peace, the chief of the Lan clan has given the Beifeng warlord a gift, his second oldest son in marriage. However, when Xichen finds out he makes a plan.

He, too, can give a gift to the Beifeng warlord, and he will not regret it.

Part 1: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 Part 2: 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 … HOME

It’s complete on AO3 here.

Notes: Check the tags if you’re concerned about the pairings ;)

For translations of the entirely fictitious Beifeng language, you’ll have to scroll to notes. I’m only going to translate something that’s not clear in the text. Sadly, there’s just not any other good way to do it on Tumblr!

Chapter 23

Xichen has never kissed anyone but Mingjue; he is at first too shocked to react, and then an intrigued, analytical side of his mind registers the differences, the unaccountable differences. Guangyao tastes like salt and wine. He is less demanding than Mingjue in some ways, but there is a fierce intensity in him, like a darting fox on the prowl. Instead of the inexorable heat of Mingjue’s passion, Guangyao’s mouth and hands are the tantalizing flutter of wings, a brush of eyelashes across Xichen’s skin. What does it mean, Xichen wonders, that he is not repulsed by kissing Guangyao as he suspects he should be?

Guangyao makes a soft sound of surprise in the back of his throat and slides his arms around Xichen’s neck, pressing forward with his hips, pushing him back further, and Xichen realizes his intent. With a clanging gong of clarity, it stops being an entertaining experiment. Even if he is distantly curious about what it would be like to bed someone else, it is less appealing without Mingjue to share it with. And no abstract reward is worth this risk to Mingjue’s trust, to his family’s treaty or—he is now fairly certain—to Huaisang’s heart. It is no hardship to plant his feet and untangle Guangyao’s arms from around his neck.

“Guangyao, stop. You’re drunk.” Xichen murmurs, cupping his hands around Guangyao’s shoulders and pushing him gently away. Tousled and flushed, Guangyao looks hurt and vulnerable, and Xichen has a flutter of regret. But this close, he can see a faintly purpling mark on Guangyao’s neck, on the soft skin just under his jawline. “And I do not think you truly want me, do you?”

“You underestimate your appeal, Xichen,” Guangyao says, with a charming smile, smoothly shifting from brittle and aching into an openly flirtatious man Xichen is even less familiar with. He skims slim and agile hands over Xichen’s chest, hooking one finger in the neck of Xichen’s tunic. “I am not too drunk to know what I want.”

“What purpose does this serve?” Xichen asks, truly mystified. There seems to be no value in seducing the Ikarahu commander’s lover, and he is not so vain as to imagine Guangyao does anything without value.

Guangyao blinks slowly at him, glancing up through downcast eyelashes, and his smile holds an enticing promise. Xichen isn’t as immune to the seduction as he ought to be and he moves back a step, putting space between him and this dangerous version of Guangyao.

“Perhaps I am lonely, Xichen,” Guangyao says, taking a half-step toward Xichen. “Ipira’orhew Ikira has made it clear he will not be alone with me, which is flattering, but unhelpful. You, though, are beautiful and, I think, not so uninterested.”

He tips his chin up, lips parting slightly, the invitation clear. Xichen is tired of being the only one who doesn’t seem to know the rules or stakes of this game he is somehow a part of. Unhelpful, Guangyao had said. What did he mean by unhelpful? It seems an important key to unlocking this puzzle, so Xichen accepts the offer, letting Guangyao’s lips meet his and trying to ignore the hands circling his waist.

“How could I possibly be helpful to you, Yao-ti?” he murmurs against Guangyao’s mouth, and Guangyao draws back with a frown, his spine straightening. Xichen expects him to lie or deflect, but instead, Guangyao’s response is unfortunately straightforward.

“Help me...” He lifts his chin and looks Xichen in the eyes, which does not reassure Xichen in the least. “Help me find a way to send the Beifeng home or extend the armistice while my father builds an army great enough to defeat them.”

Xichen steps back, this time more firmly, this time with fear. He had so hoped that Guangyao’s aim was only personal and not political, but of course he was wrong. Of course the Jin chief would not send his son to the Ikarahu without an ulterior motive. Xichen’s father had not, although at least his father was forthright with his goal.

“What you are asking of me...Guangyao, it would endanger…” he is unwilling to share the extent of his fear, and uncertain he knows how this Guangyao will react. “It would endanger the treaty with my clan.”

“If we are successful, it will not matter,” Guangyao says, a strange light in his eyes, and his right hand clenches unconsciously. “Please, Xichen. You do not understand. There is nothing else I can do. I am running out of time, and I am running out of options. I can not fail here.”

Xichen does understand, actually. Perhaps they had not intended to kill him, but Xichen suspects Guangyao’s father has already sent him an impatient message about the consequences of failure. Xichen feels a well of sympathy for Guangyao, but...

“What have you done already?”

Guangyao stiffens, and Xichen is so afraid of the answer, whether it is a truth or a lie.

“Nothing. I have done nothing, which is the problem, Xichen. I have sent my father one message, and his answer was...not satisfied. But I can not...there is no delay he will accept.”

Xichen can not imagine how Guangyao could have sent his father a message without Huaisang noticing. But then he knows. It is the only answer that fits.

“The bridge?”

Guangyao picks up a book, an account ledger, sitting neatly on a shelf and turns it over in his hands, brushing fingers across the rough leather, a tight expression pinching the corners of his mouth into a flat line. “The Ikarahu magic is unique, Xichen. Fascinating and powerful in such a different way than our people’s. My father does not think it holds danger. He values only foot soldiers and cavalry, but...he needed to see. It is a factor to consider if he is to build an army.”

Xichen wonders how intentional it was that tricking the Ikarahu into putting their magic on display also cost Guangyao’s father a bridge, a supply route, and provisions.

“Even if your father can launch a successful attack, the Ikarahu will not turn tail and go home without what they came for,” Xichen points out. “They will fight.”

Guangyao slams the book down, his voice turning bitter and angry. “Do you even know what they came for, Xichen? What they started a war for? What your family sold you for?”

Xichen shakes his head. “Does it matter? You know, do you not? Do you think it unimportant?”

He is angry now too, and frustrated by the lies and secrets of war. It seems like a child’s game of keepaway, and Xichen feels like an unwitting pawn. This time, he will not be used.

“You do not have to stay here, Guangyao. Mingjue will send you home in a week, and you can play maka from the comfort of Jinlin Tai. I will not endanger my family on your word, and…” He squares his shoulders, making a choice. “I will not sacrifice my own happiness for the Jin.”

“Then you have killed me as surely as if you speared me through the heart here and now. My father will not accept anything but success from his eldest son. I have no choice but to do whatever it takes. Whatever I must to be welcomed back home.” His tone has a vicious bite, but inexplicably, a tear slides down his cheek, and he turns away.

“Does inheriting the Jin clan mean so much to you?” Xichen asks. “You have another choice. You could choose to stay with people who care about you.” He ventures into deeper water. “You could choose to stay for Huaisang.”

Guangyao whirls on Xichen, bursting with unconcealed outrage. “How could you possibly understand? Your life in the Cloud Recesses was a dream, a sheltered fantasy. A family who loved you, a clan that respected you, a mother whose memory you were allowed to cherish? You have always had the privilege of your status and position, and you have never known what it was to fear for tomorrow.”

The words twist with venom in his mouth, and Xichen is stunned, taken aback by the accusations he doesn’t understand. They are both the privileged eldest sons of their fathers, both given away to buy peace. Of course he has known despair. Of course he has known fear. Yet, Guangyao’s fury is so raw, Xichen senses he’s missing something vital.

“I am as much a subordinate here as you are, and unlike you, I can never go home,” Xichen reminds him, and Guangyao’s brow furrows before he laughs, as brittle and bleak as the winds that shear through the camp.

“Are you truly that ignorant, Xichen? You are the edas ahora, the beloved husband of Ipira’orhew Ikira, and I assure you, he takes that definition seriously. Ahora’ipa is not a military title like Zewu-Jun, it is a bestowed honor, the acknowledgement of a relationship so dear it has a name. Did you think they were only words? That they meant nothing more than sound? Why would you want to go home, when clearly, your fortune here is never ending, aitapaho?”

He bites off the sentence with a jagged snap, turning the endearment into a curse. Xichen ignores both the spiteful words and the words that twist in painful hope. They’re only a distraction, he thinks, a veil to hide the truth. Until now, he hadn’t been sure, but Guangyao’s determination to hurt him, to turn his eyes away, has convinced him.

“Your fortune could be the same as mine, I suspect. Why can you not accept Huaisang’s affection as real?” Xichen touches the mark on Guangyao’s neck, the darkening love bite he recognizes. “Why can you not accept that your feelings matter too?”

Guangyao flushes and meets Xichen’s eyes. “Affection is a liability, Zewu-Jun.”

Xichen has to smile because finally, Guangyao has backed himself into a corner. “If that was true, you would be seducing Huaisang instead of me. I have no power here and no military knowledge. Could it be that you do not want to use him as I know you could?”

The only answer Xichen gets is an irate exhale, and in the silence, Xichen hears something that stops his heart.

The scream of fireworks in battle.

To be concluded in part 3!

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #soaring au #nielan #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #sangyao #Kristina writes tiny stories #complete on ao3 #sorry about the cliffhanger

4 notes · View notes