Tumgik
#but its not ALWAYS on edge and afraid and closed off for life
rhysintherain · 1 year
Note
May I ask 8. and 18., please?
8. Do you collect anything?
This is a... Very long answer, so I'll keep it to the very most notable Things.
I collect knives. Have been since I was like 12. I have over 70 of them, ranging from antiques I would never use to ones that live in my pockets for long stretches if time. I have a ww1 kukri my ex bought me one birthday, with a hand-forged steel blade and a rough carved wood hilt. And another, newer but still antique one, probably WW2 era that I know less about the history of. I have a bunch of special forces issue knives I bought new at a slightly shady army surplus store back home. I have a lot of cool little pocket knives engraved with the names of businesses that no longer exist. Probably my favorite is a patterned steel dagger with a triangular blade and a hilt of black, white, and green imitation ivory and stone.
I collect fossils. Mostly I have trilobites, ammonites, sand dollars, mollusks, etc., that I bought at gem shops. I also have a few fish scales and shells I found at a crown land fossil bed when I was a kid.
I collect very aesthetic leatherbound notebooks, not on purpose but because I buy them faster than I fill them up.
I collect outdated books on ancient history, because they say more about the culture that wrote them than the cultures they were written about.
There's more, but these are the most important ones.
18. What historical event would you most want to witness?
I'd like to have seen Boudicca's rebellion, see what actually happened, and if she actually said the things Roman historians claim she did.
I'd like to hear what stories the Celtic bards told about Neolithic stone circles, and what they knew about who built them and why.
I'd like to have seen Gobekli Tepe full of people, and I'd like to have asked them why as they were carefully burying it.
I'd like to have been there when the first boats landed on Haida Gwaii, and asked the people on them what it was like to see a whole new continent for the first time.
That said, a lot of archaeology feels like glimpses of how history unfolded. I can see how a Neanderthal family buried their child, surrounded by flowers and the things they would need to go on alone. I can picture the first people walking north through a rocky, sparse landscape, and their joy when they realised that caribou were coming from the other direction, meaning they weren't walking towards an impassible wall of ice. I can feel the loss early farmers felt for the way they used to live, preserved in an ancient story of a garden paradise humanity can never return to.
So as much as I would like to be there and see for myself as things happened, I think I could still see how the echoes since those events have carried into the present. Everything we know is up to interpretation, but you can still see the shape of past, if you know where to look.
4 notes · View notes
cherrychilli · 10 days
Text
18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, friends to lovers, skinny dipping, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, pool sex WC:1.9K
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: Feeling very rusty so I'm attempting to dust the cobwebs off my brain and get back into the swing of things with a little bit of Steve filth.
Tumblr media
This will they won't they thing was starting to get old.
The casual flirting between you and your neighbor had ramped up in the last month, but you knew him well enough to realize when he's pulling back on the reins, even if subtly.
Up until now you'd enjoyed the way Steve's gaze wandered over you and the playful banter that tended to edge towards suggestive. You'd even glimpsed the only semblance of 'King Steve' that'd remained ever since he turned his whole image inside out a few years ago — that slight, but thankfully tolerable air of playboy confidence you couldn't find in yourself to dislike despite how you made sure to roll your eyes whenever it appeared.
But things were starting to fizzle out now, you could feel it. This thing that had started to brew between you and Steve seemed to be following the trajectory of a bottle rocket — the chemistry you shared soared for a while but now the chances of things becoming serious appeared to be heading for a nosedive.
Your discerning eyes were too sharp, noticing the flickers of hesitation and trepidation that peeked through when he spoke with you now, less flirting as of late, more awkward floundering and not the adorable kind.
You don't know it yet but the reason was because all those fears he'd thought he'd long outrun had started to shadow him again, afraid of things panning out like they always had in his love life.
The Harrington charm drew the girls in like bumblebees to pollen, everything turning sticky sweet for a while but it always ended the same way — with Steve getting stung.
He's gotten in his head about it — every bad date, every lousy hook up, every ounce of self doubt he'd tried hard to swallow down regurgitating back up in his mind like bile. He'd even begun to second guess if you really wanted him the way he wanted you, scared of messing things up if he were to make a real move because he doesn't want to lose you. Not after all the years of liking you so much.
Oblivious to his internal turmoil, you only know that the waiting's been hell on you, feeling more than a little fed up of all the flirting that hadn't led to anything more than a spike in sexual tension and a bunch of almost kisses a couple of times you'd been alone with Steve.
Almost wasn't good enough.
You wanted to show him that you were serious about him — no more bullshit. You were determined to go after what you wanted, taking it upon yourself to make the first move, knowing it'll have to be something big if you were going to really convince him.
And you have the perfect thing in mind.
~
Given he was supposed to be the only one home at this hour, the sound of swashing water echoing from the pool deck comes off more alarming than anything else.
Ears trained in that direction, Steve quietly steps closer towards the noise, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other like he's walking a tightrope.
Was it robbers?
No, robbers only break in to take your shit, not take a dip, he shook his head, feeling stupid he'd even considered it at all.
Speed running a list of possibilities in his mind, a slight shiver ran through him as he quietly hoped it wasn't another skunk that had wandered too close to the edge again, nearly gagging at the memory of how the scared, drenched animal had rewarded him for saving its life a few months back.
Peering out of the entry way, he reckoned he would have guessed a hundred other things before he ever would have guessed what he saw outside. Dropping his keys and jaw, he finds you wading in his pool. Unbothered and very much unclothed.
"Um...you're in my pool", he states as he steps out, dumbfounded.
"And you're..."
He doesn't say it. He wont, afraid that if he did, whatever's happening might suddenly stop. Hell, it felt far too good to be true, half expecting to bolt upright in bed at any second to find it'd been a dream all along, a tent in his plaid pajama bottoms waiting to greet him.
"I am" you confirm, knowing exactly what he'd meant to say, smiling devilishly.
With the pool lights on, your lack of swimwear is obvious against the blue tiles although the rippling water surface obscures your body enough to prevent him from getting a clear look at you no matter how much he squints in an attempt to focus.
"You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, Harrington", you chide, moonlight making your wet skin glitter like topaz.
"Huh?", Steve shakes his head, the jolt crackling up the length of his spine feeling far too real to be part of a dream. This is happening. This is really fucking happening, thunders and echoes inside his head, the realization making his palms turn clammy — the first time since his teens that a girl's elicited that kind of bodily reaction out of him.
"Got tired of waiting for you to nut up and make a move", you wade closer to the edge of the pool with all the allure of a siren approaching shore, the tops of your breasts showing above the surface.
"I want you, Steve", you beckon to him sweetly. Sincerely. "Come join me. It's lonely in here", you finish with a little pout.
He's never undressed quicker in his entire life — all of those nerves and doubts ironed out of him with that one simple confirmation.
You watch as his belt is unbuckled in a flurry, shirt following as it's tossed off to the side. It occurs to you then to offer him a modicum of privacy because it feels like the right thing to do, placing your hands over your eyes until he submerges himself into the water with you. But not before you submit to another urge, sneaking one quick peek between your fingers, your cheeks growing hot when you glimpse his half hard length dangling between his legs.
Covering your eyes again, you wait for him to join you, growing giddy when you feel him enter the water and wade closer to you.
You're met with that hopelessly moony smile of his when he gently pries your hands away from your face. "You always leave your clothes behind when you trespass or is this a new thing for you?", he asks, pearly teeth peeking out as his smile widens into a grin.
You laugh back, a little surprised that you'd gone through with it yourself. "Gonna beef up security around here if I keep it up?", you joked lightly, earning a chuckle from your neighbor.
"Fuck no. I'll even take down the fence so you don't have to hop it next time", he grinned harder, deviously handsome in the moonlight.
Your toes brush his as you wade a little closer, a shiver running through you despite the warmth of the water you're chest deep in. "It was between this or surprising you in your car", you told him, sharing the plan you'd concocted the night before. "You know— trench coat, hide in the backseat. Pretty classy stuff but then I thought about it a little more and realized it sounded kinda sketchy", you made a face, scrunching up your nose. "Didn't want you to think you were getting carjacked or something", you huffed another laugh.
Steve pales a little, laughing along nervously, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Hadn't even thought of that", he lied, glad he didn't rush out here swinging his bat like he would have had he not convinced himself otherwise about the robbers.
As the amusement tapers you focus your stare on the rise and fall of Steve's chest and the hair matted against it, pressing a hand there to feel his taught, wet skin.
There's a lull in your banter as his hands find your waist and your own starts to trail down, gliding over the plane of his soft stomach, fingers dipping underwater to skim the coarse trail of hair below his bellybutton.
Your touches are delicate for a start, fingers curling around Steve's erection as you feel him twitch in your palm, your thumb gently sweeping over the bump of a vein before trailing up to find his tip.
You meet his gaze when you glide the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, smooth and from what you can tell, sensitive from the way his breath stutters and his length flexes in your hand.
The waiting comes to an end then.
Steve leans in as quickly as you do, lips meeting yours, the scent of chlorine strong on your bodies, his chest pressing against your breasts. It's a dizzying minute of his tongue hungrily brushing against yours before he pulls you up by the underside of your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
Your body reacts quickly, crossing your ankles behind his back. His shaft nudges your clit from this angle and it makes you whine into his mouth, all needy from being deprived this kind of intimacy because of how he'd held back all those weeks.
He pulls away from the kiss to look as you, cupping your cheek with his hand.
"I know baby, I know. Made you wait for it too long didn't I? Don't worry I'm going to give it to you now, okay?", he coos, one part reassuring one part cocky.
Your core aches with anticipation when he says it, desire heavy and burning in your belly.
"Steve wait", you cut him off before his lips can come down on yours again.
"Yeah?"
"Could you— could you do it rough? that's how I want it", you tell him, digging your nails into his biceps. You're in no mood for anything soft or slow. Not right now. Not after waiting this long.
"Whatever you want— I'll give you anything you want", he promises, leaning in to kiss you again.
It doesn't take long for the swashing to recommence, building up to a loud, choppy splashing. Your back will carry evidence of how he has you pressed against the side of the pool tomorrow, arms wrapped around his neck as his tip meets your entrance and he works it inside, his length rutting into your soft core, punching out a chorus of moans and whimpers wrapped around his name.
Before he's completely lost to the warm, wet tightness of your walls wrapping around him, Steve only prays that none of his other neighbors care enough to peek over because if they did, things were bound to get awkward at the next block party.
"Promise me you w-won't go cold on me again", you beg when he locates that spot inside you, the head of his cock dragging over it just right.
"I promise", he answers, unclenching his jaw to nip at your bottom lip. "Promise me you'll go out with me after this? be my girlfriend?"
It nearly sends you reeling, being asked the question you'd been waiting to hear for weeks now as he's literally inside you, making your orgasm approach faster.
Smiling hard, you're still letting out little uh's and ah's because he doesn't let up his pace, driving his cock into you, all hard and fast just like how you wanted.
You couldn't wait to keep making up for all that time you spent doing anything that wasn't this, gasping out your answer.
"I promise"
565 notes · View notes
kseung · 1 year
Text
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Bad Timing
Pt. 1 of Better Timing
Tumblr media
Contains: Light cursing, fighting (verbal), kisses.
Warnings: Light cursing, writer on mobile 💀
Words: 2,185~
Dedicated to @cozwaenot
••••••••••
This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Not at all. You knew that asking Wednesday out would be... interesting, but you never thought you'd see such atrocities. Namely, a certain atrocity called Tyler.
After days of begging, Enid had finally convinced you to ask Wednesday out. Nerve-wracking as it was, you accepted. Worse that can happen is she murders you. Not too bad.
You were walking around in town, strolling merely to have some time to think. Wednesday was all you thought of anyway. There's no escaping her, like an endless nightmare. She'd be happy to hear it that way.
Your feet suddenly came to a halt when you saw Wednesday some steps ahead. She entered the place even though the sign clearly read "closed", to meet a boy you knew was named Tyler. Bad luck was all you had, perfectly demonstrated when the girl of your bad dreams kissed the boy. It made your heart feel small and frail, like it was being drained of every last drop of blood to be found in there. No thoughts came to mind as you kept watching the scene playing before you.
—I see...
So that's how things are. Right. They stopped kissing, staring at each other before kissing again. You knew you had seen enough. You turned around so fast you felt dizzy. Your tendency to the drama made you feel like your world was loosing all its color. Not even the loudest of noises could snap you out of whatever emotional trance you were in, much less the faint sound of a chime and a door opening.
Wednesday knew she'd fucked up. Bad. In the actually bad sense of the word. She'd kissed a hyde, and also made one of the only ones that listened to her run away. Life definitely was onto something presumably not nice.
She knew calling out for you would do nothing, so she had to wait until the next day. The next day you had classes, but it wasn't as bad as it could be. Or at least she hoped so. Strange.
•••••
Enid noticed it straight away. You were avoiding Wednesday like she was a plague. And you were, admittedly, avoiding everyone. She sent you a look which you ignored. You needed some time for yourself, as childish as that was.
During the entire class period, you kept yourself far from them, not even talking at all. They all noticed, really. Wednesday had the littlest twinge of sadness that day, feeling rather on edge. More now that she knew who was causing all those murders. The betrayal made her feel particularly strong desires to commit arson.
—Did you scare them off that much?
All but Wednesday nodded to what Enid was saying. Being the subject of your liking, Wednesday was the only one out of the loop regarding your confession.
Clearly, everyone else knew, which made Wednesday confused and maybe even defensive.
—Why would I?—. She understood how she'd scare off some people, but not you. You were never afraid of her, ever. Not even when she tried to threaten you. But scaring you, for once, would never be a bad thing. They looked at her, silently asking for more words. —I hope so—.
Xavier sighed. —Things didn't go too well, huh—. Wednesday stared at him. It was true. She did not mean to make you run from her. At least not because of that.
—Writing hour.
You watched from your place as Wednesday left. You sighed in relief. Looks like it's also your time to leave, just not after her.
First, you made sure the rest of your friends weren't looking at you. Then, you just vanished. This was her 1-hour dedicated time for creative writing, working for her novel.
You usually went with her, to make her company. You were always silent, so she didn't complain but at first. Those were fond times, but no more. Seems like now she'd have to be alone again.
Your wandering led you to the forest, on a hidden place near the shed. If she, for some unknown reason, decided to search for you, she'd expect you to be far away from places she visits often. So you hid close.
At times like that you wished you could stay there forever. Technically, you could. But that wouldn't be good for you, and cause some headaches to Weems. Not that you weren't opposed to that.
You spent hours sitting on the same spot, surrounded by nothing but nature. It was a good thinking spot. Even better was the fact that nobody knew you liked it there, so nobody looked there.
She went to the Rave'N with him. Why didn't you know she'd kiss him before? Looking back to it, it was obvious something was about to happen. Wednesday, the anti-social emo kid, going to a dance? Yeah. Too suspicious. And you thought you had good critical thinking skills... Even more outrageous!
It was pathetic. You feeling so down for a crush you knew from the start was unreachable? Unreasonable. You were angry. Frustrated at yourself. It's not that Wednesday was incapable of liking you, since she seemed to like Tyler... But after that? Yeah, no. She had chosen already, and you weren't who she picked. Nothing wrong with that, as sad as it made you.
—There you are.
She had to show up at the most inopportune of moments. You did not look at her, simply taking your stuff and heading back to Nevermore. You couldn't bring yourself to look at her. You knew you'd cry to her, for her. You bit your tongue, on both senses.
—Don't ignore me!
Even her voice when strong seemed muted. A tinge of feeling escaped, and your shoulders tensed. You knew how she looked when she spoke like that. Her chin would be angled upwards, eyebrows furrowed, and, maybe, her lips trembling even when she tried not to. You had only ever seen that once before, but once is more than enough to remember it. You sighed and continued on your walk back to your dorm.
She took a sharp breath, furious. Her pace quicked, catching up to you and turning you over. She looked desperate, more than she wanted to admit. You couldn't help but laugh dryly. What did she want now?
—Just what do you want?
That question couldn't have shocked her more. The tone was cold, unlike how you usually spoke to her. You weren't even looking at her, focusing instead on a tree behind her.
—I- —, she cursed internally. —I just wante-
—Oh, please. Don't talk. I have nothing to hear. There's no reason for you to speak to me. Just stay away.
Her hand was still gripping onto your jacket, so you shook her off. You wanted to apologise for being rude, but you had a greater urge to just go away. Rejection had never hurt her so bad.
—Why are you being like this? What did I do wrong?
Her tone was desperate, again. You wanted to cry. You looked at her through glazed eyes. She herself was not doing too well either.
—Don't I ought to know?
—Stop asking questions.
—Then tell me!
She was getting angry. That was not good, not at all. You sighed and nodded.
—I just need some time, Wednesday. I... —. You looked away again. You didn't want to cry in front of her. —Give me time.
—Is this about Tyler?
And you sighed. You didn't knew she knew, but she did, apparently. You nodded, swallowing hard. Your voice wanted to tremble.
—It is. But it's fine. I totally support you. It's just shocking.
It wasn't fine. Still, you wanted to support your friend. You tried to smile at her. It was more of a grimace, but she accepted it.
—I'll be going—, you said. You tried to turn around and go, again, but she held onto you, again.
—No. You're not going anywhere. You will listen to me.
You didn't understand why she was being so difficult. Why was this even affecting her? You were defeated, so you accepted. —Make it quick.
—I don't like Tyler.
You were seriously about to throw hands. She noticed, so she held on to them. Tightly. It made you feel things, good things. Ironic. And such a bad moment for it.
—I know how that sounds! I know! I just... had a vision after I kissed him. He's the Hyde. We are not together.
You went pale. He's the Hyde? And she kissed him! You didn't want to hear it. Even less from her. But that was a shocker. It's always the one that seems less like it.
—I- I really don't know what you want to hear from me.
You were too overloaded, both mentally and emotionally. In turn, your body started to ache. You shook your head.
—Let me go.
You were back to your cold tone, staring at her. She furrowed her eyebrows, but still nodded. She let you go, keeping her arms by her sides.
You did not look at her more, simply walking off to your dorm. You knew you wouldn't get a good sleep that night, but you still tried. You were lucky your roommate decided to sleep elsewhere again.
•••••
It was obvious that things weren't going good. You kept from everyone, especially her. From her friends too, both of yours. It was hard, but sometimes people need time. Even if it meant having no one to talk to for days.
You were walking mindlessly on the hallways of Nevermore when you heard Enid talking to Wednesday.
—Say that again—, Wednesday demanded.
—They have feelings for you! For being a detective, you're so blunt sometimes.
Your breath hitched. So she now knows. It was inferable, really. You were surprised someone had to tell her.
—Oh. I guess that makes more sense now—, she pondered.
You were starting to feel like a burden, once more. She had more things on her plate, so you being one of those made you feel incredibly guilty. You started to wonder off, going to your room. At least you'd be alone, without anyone to bother. Your roomate had a club to attend to anyway.
You made sure that neither Wednesday nor Enid followed when you were entering your room. You then locked your door, finally breathing. You turned around, intending to go lay down, only to find Wednesday silently waiting for you while sitting on the edge of your bed.
—Fuck my life—. You almost ran away. Almost. But Wednesday had you still with what she said. She walked until she was closely in front of you.
—I know.
You tried to act dumb. Which, to Wednesday, was the dumbest thing to do in that situation.
—What do you know?
You tried to sound annoyed, but you were panicking. There was nowhere to run to. She was in your room, and you couldn't exactly go to the woods.
—I know what you feel. For me.
You shook your head.
—What do you know about feelings, Wednesday? Let me be and get out of my room.
She glared at you, pursed lips and tensed jaw included. Your defensive words would make her feel hurt if she didn't know better. Maybe did hurt, a little. Her eyes were difficult to decipher.
—I don't always know what I feel. But I do know that I feel good when I'm you—. She took a sharp breath, gulping audibly before takling again. —I like to feel things if they're related to you—. It was a weird confession for her to make. Why would she like it? You didn't understand.
—Bullshit. Now, do leave my room—. You moved your head to point towards the door.
—No. I'm not lying. I am not leaving. I had enough time to be without you and notice that I don't want that to happen again.
You watched her intensely, eying her with distrust.
—I don't believe you.
—...
She looked at you, holding your hand in hers. It was weird. For starters, you liked having your hand held by her but you were also sad and a little angry. Add to it the fact that she dislikes physical touch, so she was both awkward and very tense.
"Is it too late?" She wanted to ask.
—Want it or not, I have feelings too—. She disliked to say it. She hated it, but she knew it was something worth the uncomfortableness of admitting. —And I want to feel things you make me feel. Am I too late?
—Wednesday, it's not about the timing now. I just... need time, okay? I'm not saying "no" either. I didn't like what I saw, and I think I still need to cry it out. We can talk more about it tomorrow.
She nodded, the least bit hopeful. She looked around for a bit, trying to make up her mind about what to do next. She glanced at you for a second before slowly moving closer to you, until she was pressing herself lightly towards you.
You didn't think twice before surrounding her with your arms, careful not to push too hard on her limits. You felt some light touches on your back, smiling as she did too. You'd be alright.
2K notes · View notes
oomisluvr · 9 months
Text
“We should get married.”
Japan is unusually hot this time of year, the humidity weighing heavy in your lungs. The cicadas sing their love for the warmer weather, celebrating a seemingly endless summer. 
You watch the busy intersection from Kiyoomi’s highrise balcony, idly watching the streetlights conduct the flow of traffic.
Green, green, yellow.
Yellow, green, red.
Red, red, red.
You snort, “What makes you say that?”
Kiyoomi takes a long drag from a cigarette, inhaling deeply then releasing the breath in a plume of smoke. It’s a nasty habit he picked up from watching his eldest brother, a habit he rarely lets himself indulge in due to his lifestyle.
He only does it when he’s anxious. Jittery. Nervous. He only does it when he absolutely needs to.
Lots of people think he’s a prude, a killjoy, robotic by nature. Twitter seems to consider him as barely human, but you’ve been around Kiyoomi to know his faults, his shortcomings. You’ve seen enough of him that he doesn’t have to pretend around you.
The first time he slid a cigarette between his lips, you could hardly believe it. 
Laid comfortably on expensive sheets, his hair wild from how you had been tugging on it earlier, swiping a lighter off his nightstand and pinching the cig between two fingers. You remember how he grinned at your disbelief, a handsome smile on his face at how he was able to catch you off guard, the smoke pooling above him in a wicked halo. 
It’s what people do after a good fuck, isn’t it? He had joked. Consider this a compliment.
You remember feeling special. You remember feeling exactly how you feel right now.
“You make me happy, and I think I make you happy, too.” You watch the smoke dissipate into nothing, remnants swept away by a warm summer breeze. The cicadas grow quiet, muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.
You shift your attention from the sky overhead to the spiker. You find he’s already looking at you.
“It just makes sense.” He says.
You falter, “We’re not even dating.”
“Does it matter?” His response comes quickly, “We love each other, don’t we?”
You avert your eyes from his, afraid to fall captive to his piercing stare. His hand finds yours, rubbing smooth circles against your knuckles with a calloused thumb. Kiyoomi brings your hand to his lips, laying a soft kiss to the skin there. You draw a shaky breath, inevitably melting into him when he pulls you into his side, pressing you into him completely.
You’re surrounded by his body heat, the spiker towering over you. You hate how soothing it is. You hate how well your body responds to him, your eyes snapping back to him in an instant. 
“I’ll take care of you,” His voice is hypnotic, equal parts captivating and petulant. You hate that you believe him, like always. “We’ll take care of each other. How does that sound?”
Your body betrays you. You feel yourself falling, the walls closing in until–
“Okay.”
Kiyoomi hums, taking another drag of his cigarette, and releasing the smoke into the night air. The carbon burns your eyes, and you cough at the second hand exposure. Kiyoomi’s grip on you tightens and the smoke curls around him, forming that same wicked halo floating against the edges of your memory.
You can hardly remember life before you met Kiyoomi, the memories as tangible as his cigarette smoke. Part of you thinks loving him was inevitable, inescapable. Truly, meant to be. 
You don’t care what the other part of you thinks. Or anyone else, for that matter.
You bring your eyes back to the city below you, watching the streetlights flash and flicker and change.
Green, yellow, yellow.
Yellow, red, red.
Red, red, red.
Tumblr media
hehehe i wanted to write something romantic but also left a sick feeling in your tummy. is it toxic obsession or is he just a freak in love? up 2 u baby its whatever you want it to be but lmk if this is too creepy!! so i can tag it as nfsw so it can go with my darker content!! ok bye love as always, niko ♡
443 notes · View notes
alice-angel12x · 1 year
Text
Death is always around the corner
Tumblr media
Riddle + Death!Reader
This Death is greatly inspired by the wolf death from Puss In Boots, and Jenny-Jinya kind death. (some headcanons for some of the characters) Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus
Let's set the Scene: Masterlist
Something was off about this Mirror ceremony, Crowley could feel it. But decided to shack it off and continue with the ceremony.
"Ah, my lovely Lord, The noble and beautiful flower of evil, You are the most beautiful, number one in this world. Follow thy heart and take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror. Flames that turn even stars into ashes, Ice that imprisons even time, Great tree that swallows even the sky, Don’t be afraid of the power of darkness, Come now, show your power. Mine, theirs, and yours, There’s only a little time left for us. Do not let go of that hand, at all costs," Crowley chanted as a green flame appeared in the mirror.
As the night continued, all the new students were neatly sorted into dorms. There was just one coffin left, and just as he was about to insert the key to unlock the coffin. The coffin began to thrash and shack, as puffs of blue fire spewed out from the creaks in the coffin. The headmaster quickly stepped away from the coffin when the lid suddenly blasts off its hinges in a blaze of fire.
From the coffin, a grey cat creature with blue fire ears skitted across the ground. The crowd of students stared in confusion till something caught their attention. An eerie whistle could be heard from the smoking coffin. Out from the smoke steeped a mysterious figure. A figure dressed in the school's ceremonial robes stepped out into the chamber. They stood unnaturally still as the hood of their robe completely obscured their face as they continued to eerily whistle.
"U-Um, excuse me young...Um... You could have waited a few seconds longer till I opened the gate. Anyways please present yourself to the dark mirror," Crowley stuttered as he hurried the stranger.
The mirror awakened to look at the figure, and only stared in... fear?
"Ugh, I can smell... a disgusting amount of blot," The figure spat.
Tumblr media
💗Riddle Roseheart💗
Riddle didn't really know what to think of this strange student. He never got a good look at them at the ceremony. The only thing they could tell was that they were a wolf beastman of sorts.
And his only other source of info was word of mouth around the school. And hearing that they were a part of the chandelier incident. Riddle already doesn't like them.
luckily he had the fortune to see this mysterious. Upon seeing this student, they looked strange, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was cause of how they just stared unblinkingly at him. With an ominous smile on their face.
When Riddle tried to scold the first-year group for all the trouble they have caused. Yet the student who went by Y/n, simply smiled, unfazed by his words.
This greatly annoyed him and he pulled out his magic pen, but in a blink of an eye, Y/n swiped it out of his grasp. He stood in shock as Y/n chuckled and took a sip of their drink.
Freaked out, Riddle decided to just leave. Yet for a week he felt watched, and whistling followed him no matter where he went. And Y/n's silhouette is always just on the edge of his sight.
One late night, Riddle had to drop off small books at the library, when the whistle filled his ears.
"Are you stalking me?" Riddle glared, as he turned to see Y/n resting against a pillar.
"Just observing. It's been a long while since I got a good look at the Roseheart family. And it's a shame to see how far they have fallen," They growled.
"How Dare You! Off with-'' before riddle could even finish his spell. Y/n swiped the pen from the boy's hand. And then quickly pinned him to the wall.
Riddles's heart started to beat insanely fast as he stared into Y/n's blood-red irises.
"Listen very closely, your life is crashing toward a terrible end if you don't change your tune," Y/n growled softly into Riddle's ear.
Riddle shut his eyes tight waiting for the next attack, but nothing came. As he slowly opened his eyes, he gasped when he found himself in his room.
When morning came, riddle ran to the library to apologize for losing the books. To only learn that Y/n had returned them for him.
Assuming it must have just been a dream, he didn't take Y/n's warning seriously. As blot continued to accumulate. Unaware of Y/n watching from a window across the courtyard, as they polish their sythe, with sad eyes.
They watched as Ace fail to properly apologize to Riddle's liking, and quickly banished the 1st years from the dorm. Which lead to this conflict.
As Y/n stood before Riddle and his overblot as he rampaged across the garden. Reading their weapons, preparing to claim Riddle's life before the blot does.
Suddenly, Aduece, Grim, Cater, and Trey stepped forward wanting to save Riddle. Y/n smiled softly as they dashed toward the blot creature to Find Riddle's soul.
_____________________________________________________
As Riddle slowly came to his dream of memories, he found himself sitting at a party table floating in the darkness. In front of him was a book with his name as the title, and the silhouette of his profile was on the cover.
"Not a good start to life huh," said a voice, causing Riddle to gasp and look up at the source. at the other end of the table was Y/n, dressed in black silk robes. "Strict mother molding you, all the while claiming it is for your own good."
"S-she didn't want me to be a failure like father. He was lazy and couldn't handle the work of a doctor," Riddle said.
"Did your mother tell you that?" Y/n asked as Riddle nodded. '' Then you might want to read this.''
Y/n slid a tray over to Riddle, on it was a book that read Mira Rosehearts, his Mothers name. Riddle looked back to Y/n for an explanation. "Everything your mother had said, done, thought, felt, and heard is documented in this. I recommend reading pages 9131 to 9134."
Riddle quickly read through said pages but slammed it down in anger and disbelief. It read how Riddle's father began to outshine Mira, and when people started to praise him more than her. She divorced and made sure she had full custody of Her son. She vowed to mold him and make him the perfect Roseheart, to outshine everyone else, no matter the cost.
"That is not my mother! You're trying to trick me! Who do you think you are?!" Riddle growled as he stood up from his chair.
"I Have a Beginning, But No End, and I End All Things That Begin. Who Am I?” Y/n asked simply.
"What is this rubbish, the answer is... The answer is," Riddle said slowly as his eyes widened in horror.
"I am Death, straight up," Y/n said as their eyes glowed, causing the boy to fall back into his seat.
"S-so I'm dead?" Riddle asked slowly.
"No, you escape me this time. You are very lucky that some people came to your rescue. Or else you would have died here today," Y/n said as they flipped riddle's book all the way to the back. On the inside of the back cover was a "wanted" Poster.
In bold words on top was Wanted, with Riddle's face printed in the middle. And Dead or Alive is printed at the bottom.
" I would have had you sign, right here,” Y/n said as they tapped over the word Dead. Causing Riddle to gulp nervesly.
"But You attend our school, have I truly escaped you?"Riddle asked nervously.
"Just because I am Death, doesn't mean I enjoy everything it entails. I do not enjoy having to separate families and loved ones. It's just a job that needs to be done," Y/n explained. " And I came here to collect an arrogant little boy, who thinks himself as law and order incarnate. But I can't seem to find him anymore.
Riddle watched as Y/n collected the books and turned to leave, as a door of light appeared.
"You were given a second chance Riddle. Live your life your way for yourself, not how your mother wants you to," Death Y/n said as they stepped through the door.
Riddle finally came too, much to everyone's relief. When everything was set and done. Riddle apologized to everyone and promised to improve on his behavior.
Yet as the days went by, Riddle noticed that Y/n for the most part vanished. He would see them around every once and a while, even Ace, Deuce, and Grim don't seem to hang out with them much.
Grim already spilled the beans on Y/n's identity, and of course, most kept their distance. For who would want death hanging around them.
One day at the reunbirthday party. As All of Riddle's new and old friends gather around his table. Enjoying tea and baked goods, the young dorm leader noticed a lone figure at a table.
Y/n sat alone at one table at the very back of the party, even the tables next to them were empty. As everyone wasn't really comfortable being near them.
Riddle watched sadly as Y/n sat with no snacks, tea, or even company to enjoy. So with a wave of his pen, Riddle levitated a fresh teapot with cups and a large tray of baked goods. As he proceeded to pull out a chair himself at Y/n's table.
Much to everyone's surprise and slight fear. Even Y/n was surprised by Riddle, but they smiled softly as the two began to chat and enjoy the unbirthday party.
But sadly their job here at NRC isn't over yet.
1K notes · View notes
actual-changeling · 4 months
Text
crowley has never been afraid of the dark.
born inside of the void, in the spaces between particles between waves, he was darkness and heat, the light only following once he reached into his chest and wove Her grace into stars. cosmic engineering, quantum theories and equations rolling off his tongue, and a joy so primal, so real it defined him as much as the galaxies taking shape in front of him.
light only exists to counter its absence, just like there is no cold but simply a lack of heat.
it takes him a while to understand that love needs not just the absence of itself but fear to be seen, to be lived. a contrast, a force growing from itself and defying physics by leaving everything unchanged unless it is afraid of being touched. aziraphale's gaze will meet his across time, desire fighting shame fighting guilt, and he could never blame him for leaving; not on the walls of eden, not in the end.
fleeing from twin smiles and two heartbeats is a confession, it is truth, it is proof. an absence of light results in darkness, and yet there is always an edge, a shimmering, brightening dawn, and he clings to the borders of weightlessness and closes his eyes.
crowley floats through lonely centuries, swallows the sting of rejection, forces his lungs to keep breathing whenever a gentle palm presses against his skin just to disappear as quickly as it had appeared. aziraphale's denial, his often mindless cruelty, lives between fear and love, hydrogen molecules inhabiting what has never been a complete void but the promise of life.
love needs loss needs nothing lasts forever, and it only hurts because there had been light and heat and vanquished shadows.
because they had been something worth losing, something that could be destroyed.
crowley has never been afraid of the dark, but he is afraid of this: reaching for a hand and finding absence, closing his eyes and opening them to silence, speaking his name and tasting its empty echo on his tongue.
matter cannot be destroyed, only created, and yet we fear singing black holes for light lost forever is equal to extinction.
love will not disappear, only grow, for a life lived in the shadow of fear and with hopeless hope can still be touched, but it will dim until it loses its shape.
until love is loss and swallows itself whole.
100 notes · View notes
its-wabby-stuff · 9 months
Text
By the Side of the Black Lake
I can’t remember how I found the lake, or when. But it was instantly mesmerizing.
The surface lay completely still, bordered by rocks on the east side and a glassy beach of soft sand on the west. There were no waves, no tide, I wasn’t even sure if it was water.
Just a black ink that spread out, shaped by the land, completely opaque. It didn’t feel natural, but it looked beautiful.
I could sit on the lake side for hours, just admiring it and it’s intensity. I wouldn’t dare to touch it. Things this peculiar in nature always came with some horrific price. A temperature hot enough to boil you alive, or completely melt the flesh off bones. (Like the sulphur springs in Yellowstone, except this didn’t smell of rotting eggs).
Things had been dropped into the lake before, but the surface was so dark, you would never be able to tell what happened to it. It would just disappear into the darkness. Things could float on the surface but the patterns never matched any typical current, it moved at its own leisure, as if the lake was playing with it. But just like everything else, it would eventually sink into the depths.
Sometimes things would wash up on shore, bones of birds and animals that had tried to swim. Unsettling to say the least.
Some believed the lake was cursed, but I was never one to believe in magic. Still, it was hard to shake that the lake felt- alive. It could feel happy and sad and angry, and the environment and the surface of the lake acted on these. Unpredictable as ever.
I was afraid. There were so many uncertainties visiting a lake like this. But it was practically impossible to ignore the strange comfort I got staring into the darkness, pondering its depths, and admiring its beauty.
Curiosity’s temptation always calls until it receives an answer.
I found myself visiting more and more frequently, and spending more and more time amongst the quiet solitude of the lake, although I never felt alone. It became a habit to visit the lake everyday. I’d bring a blanket and set up atop one of the rocks that presented the best view. I’d sketch, read, nap. I’d watch people come by with their own stories. They’d leave things for the lake. Throw things into the lake. Walk around the border. I’d hum and sing and whisper conversations to myself. It felt like someone was listening, and conversations with myself and some distant party became common.
I wanted to share ideas and stories and life, until speaking out loud became less to help myself understand and more for someone else to listen to.
I was always so careful to clean up after myself. Not leave anything behind. I didn’t want to upse- I didn’t want to lose something I might regret letting go of. But I guess I was distracted, lost in my head, and I forgot.
I only realized that I had when I went to visit the lake the next day. It was missing. I must’ve left it behind. I looked everywhere for it. Even places I had never actually visited by the lakeside. I searched and searched til the sun started to set.
I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps the lake had- no that’s impossible. The lake couldn’t have taken it. It’s up on the rocks. So someone else- but there was no one else around. I couldn’t have lost it.
Even if it didn’t have much monetary value, I had spent weeks by the lake side using it, and it didn’t feel right to not have it. I can’t believe I lost it, and I couldn’t help but cry at my own incompetence.
I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten to the edge until it was too late, and one misstep caused me to fall into the lake. I only had a second to catch a breath before I was submerged into the darkness.
In moments that catch you off guard you find yourself doing things you never would’ve before. And I opened my eyes, not like it helped since I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where I was and no sense of direction. The surface was missing, and panic began to settle deeper within me.
My mind began to focus on my breath, or the lack of breath. I hadn’t been ready to be submerged, and I could feel the choke hold my lungs had on me, begging me for more air. Air I couldn’t give it.
Was this it? Was this where I was to die. I suppose it could be worse. My flesh could be melting off my body, but the darkness was surprisingly tame. I wouldn’t say cold just as much as I wouldn’t say hot. It was- comforting. Like being held. And the darkness seemed to wrap itself around me. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to help, or trying to push me further down. But I was unwelcome either way.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold my breath, but maybe there was no point holding onto something I couldn’t control. Maybe I should just-
Two massive orange- um- eyes appeared before me. One with a slash straight through. I swam backward, startled. What was this thing? Some sort of lake creature? I wasn’t even aware anything lived inside. I thought- this must be what eats the creatures that get stuck.
They got closer, and I tried moving away, but I was stuck. I couldn’t move, and the tugging and flailing of my arms was only met with resistance. The glowing eyes circled me, settling behind me and than looked up. Up! That was the surface!
I swam up as fast as I could, following the refracting orange light all the way. My lungs longed for another breath. I could feel it leaping in anticipating until finally, I breached the surface and gasped for air in a fit of coughs. Quickly, I swam toward the beach, pulling myself completely out of the lake and a little extra for good measure.
It was dark now, the final glitter of the sun settling behind the mountain. All the beauty the lake offered by day as an oddity left when given the dark abyssal nature it had by night. It looked as if nothing was there. As of the universe itself ended in this very spot.
I pulled my knees up to my chest as I tried to get myself to move. A wave brushed itself on the sand, over and over until something was left on the beach.
That was mine. What I’d been searching for! I found it or- it was returned to me. I looked out over the lake again. Quiet and still as ever.
———————-
I don’t know how comfortable @somerandomdudelmao is with fanfiction of their own persona, but the very intriguing idea of a sentient, completely black lake divined me with inspiration and I had to write out an idea. I tried to keep it mysterious in nature because I have a lot of unknown variables. I also wanted people to put themselves in these shoes, so this isn’t about me per se. I wanted the lake to be as inspiring as it is mysterious, trying to embody a bit of Cass in it.
242 notes · View notes
Text
Always There - Chapter Four: S.Snape
Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.
Series Masterlist
My full Masterlist
Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus
Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, Happy Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore had a bet, bed sharing, sappy Snape
Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,
Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!
I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!
Author's Note: Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!
Word Count: 2066
My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
not my gif
Tumblr media
not my gif
The black dog stared down the potion’s master, teeth still barred, a deep growl still coming from the back of its throat. The dog jumped off the bed and transformed back into a human. Sirius Black was standing right beside the bed, an angry look on his face as he glowered at Severus.
“Why in the bloody hell were you playing tonsil tennis with my dovey?” Sirius demanded his question be answered.
“I believe that is between her and I, Black,” Severus deadpanned at the now free man.
“That was not the question, Snivellus.” That was when Y/N finally spoke up.
“Still a rotten bastard aren’t you Siri? If you want to be rude to Severus, you can excuse yourself and get out of my sight. Thank you!” She told him in a sweet tone, finishing it off with a smile. Sirius had faltered for a moment, not expecting her to defend Severus so quickly. 
“Godric, relax. I won’t be rude anymore. I just want to talk, alone preferably,” Sirius explained. Severus looked at Y/N to see what she had wanted to do, when she gave him a slight nod he knew she would be okay and could handle herself. He pecked her forehead before getting out of the bed, brushing past Sirius.
“You even think about raising your voice or hurting her, I will kill you,” Sirius muttered to the man as he passed. Severus brushed off his comment and continued walking, only turning back to make sure she was okay before continuing out the door. He stood with Remus and Harry, the two chatting, pausing when Severus came out of the hospital wing. He stood at the edge of the doorway, keeping a close eye on Y/N as she spoke to Sirius for the first time in 12 years.
“So you and Snape, that’s like a thing now?” Sirius asked her, an underlying tone of teasing and interest in his voice.
“It’s a thing now, yes. He’s been there for me for the last 12 years when I had nobody. I was just left with a one year old and I was alone, for the first time in my life, I was alone,” Y/N explained.
“What do you mean alone? Where was Remus during all of this?”
“He left, I hadn’t heard from him until he became a professor here this year. Imagine my surprise when Harry got attacked by a dementor and he mentions Lupin, I just about had a heart attack.”
“Do you want me to go fuck him up? I will. Just say the word, dovey, and I’ll go,” Sirius said, his voice angry.
“No, I just want to sit and talk, catch up a bit. I’ve missed you as much as I hate to admit it. You’re my brother, you always will be.” So that was what the two did, they sat for hours chatting about everything and anything. Severus was still waiting at the edge of the doorway, Remus and Harry had left a while ago to go get some food for everybody. Even whilst eating, the two friends were still talking, reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts with all of their friends and before everything went to shit. They talked about James and Lily and they had even talked about Severus due to the request of Sirius. 
The sun had set long ago, Sirius had ended up falling asleep in a chair next to her bed, Severus coming back in, bringing her some of her favorite chocolates. “Thank you honey. You didn’t have to bring me anything,” She smiled at the broody man before opening some up to eat them, offering them to Severus who gladly took one.
“Of course I did. You were stuck with Black all day, you need a little pick me up after that,” He joked lightly, causing her to let out a giggle. “I have a question for you, you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to of course, I’m just a bit curious.”
“What’s your question?”
“Why does everyone call you ‘dove’? Pettigrew did, your brother did, Lupin does and so does Black. Why?”
“I’m an animagus, which I know you’re aware of because unlike my brother and our friends, I am a registered animagus. My animagus form is a dove, hence the nickname,” She explained.
“A dove makes a lot of sense. Peace, freedom and love.”
“I will say I am a very loving person, not so sure about peaceful but loving, yes,” She chuckled. Severus hummed in agreement, a pensive look washing over his features, Y/N taking note of it. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
“A lot, like always.” He had evaded her question knowing that she would ask again and try to get the answer out of him. Of course he would give her the answer but he wanted her to ask again just to hear her talk.
“Anything in particular jump out at you or would you rather stay mysterious?” She had joked lightly, not expecting him to take the bait.
“You, that's what jumps out at me. Just, you and the amount of care and love you show the people around you. The love and care you show me.” Her heart was a puddle at her feet by this point, she had never felt so admired and loved in such a long time that she could barely form a sentence. “I admire you, Y/N Potter. I admire your intelligence, your courage, your bravery, I admire your beauty, your compassion, your love. I admire everything about you, love.” A tear had dripped down her cheek, Severus becoming concerned and Y/N noticing the look on his face changing. His hand came to rest on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear gently.
“Happy tears, honey. They’re happy tears,” She clarified, as if reading the man’s mind. She knew what he was thinking just by the look on his face. “I admire everything about you, honey. Even though you are a hard ass, I admire everything about you.” She had gotten out of bed, standing in front of the man before embracing him. She noticed that Sirius had awoken and was watching the two of them, he just threw a wink her way and closed his eyes again. 
“Should we continue where we left off before we were rudely interrupted by your man-dog?” Severus asked her. She let out a giggle before nodding, their lips meeting once again. The same dizzying feeling came back to her, Severus feeling as if he was on fire. 
The two were once again interrupted just as the kiss was getting a little heated, this time it was Minerva and Albus. “I don’t think this is what Poppy meant by bed rest Y/N,” Minerva teased. Her face got hot as she hid herself against Severus. The man’s chest vibrating with a chuckle, making Y/N whine.
“Don’t laugh! You were the one that suggested it!” She smacked his chest which caused a full body laugh to come from him. She tried fighting to laughing along but she lost that fight rather quickly. 
“I’m glad you’re better Y/N, Poppy mentioned that you could return to your quarters tonight if you were able to walk around. Which obviously you can, seeing the position you and Severus were in when we had arrived. Have a lovely night you two. Oh and before I forget, Minerva, you owe me ten galleons,” Albus spoke, his voice having a teasing lilt to it, mischief shining in his eyes behind his glasses. The woman whined again, smacking her forehead into Severus’ chest. Minerva and Albus both letting out a chuckle at the couple in front of them.
“The whole school is going to know before break is over knowing you two old bats. You and your gossip,” Severus teased as the two older professors left the hospital wing, Minerva handing Albus the ten galleons she owed him. “I can’t believe they bet on us, I wonder what the bet was about.”
“I know Fred and George are betting too, they wanted to see how long it would take us to get together. Too bad Fred lost, said it would never happen. Minnie and Albus probably bet on a time frame or something,” Y/N thought aloud. She heard a snicker come from the chair where Sirius was ‘sleeping’. She sent a small blast near his feet which got him to jump up with a shriek. “That’s for eavesdropping you git. Now go find Remus and leave us alone.” 
“You have not changed a bit in 12 years. Your standards have lowered but you have not changed,” Sirius said.
“I can throw you into a wall if you keep talking. Go bother your moony.” Instead of speaking again, Sirius just walked out of the room after throwing up the middle finger to her. She raised her wand slightly which caused his hand to lower and his feet to pick up pace. She had a satisfied smirk on her face before looking back at Severus’ dark eyes. She frowned upon seeing how bad his dark circles had gotten, her hand cupping his cheek gently and her thumb caressing the edge of his dark circles. 
“Let’s go to bed, you need to sleep,” She stated before taking his hand and pulling him out of the hospital wing. She led him back to his quarters so he could change into more comfortable clothes and after, the two had gone to her quarters. Severus was quite familiar with her quarters, however, he had never really noticed all the pictures she had around the room. He took them in as she was changing into her night clothes. 
There were pictures of Lily and James, James and Y/N, the whole Potter family, pictures of Y/N, Remus, Sirius, Peter and James and lots of pictures of Harry and the boy with his friends. Once he moved over to her nightstand to look at the pictures there, he was surprised. It was a picture of the two of them from Harry’s 11th birthday, Harry had taken a picture of them after hearing about Y/N’s new professor position and wanted a picture of his two favorite professors at Hogwarts. Even though Harry had yet to attend Hogwarts, he already knew that Potions and Herbology would be some of his favorites because his favorite people were teaching the classes. 
A warm smile appeared on Severus’ face as he looked back on that day, the three of them had so much fun, taking Harry to Diagon Alley for the first time, getting all of his stuff prepared for his first year. The smile only grew when Y/N had walked back into the room in her night dress, she had taken a shower it had seemed because her hair was wet and she smelled like lavender. She casted a spell to dry her hair before getting into bed.
“What are you smiling for?” She asked him, curious, a smile growing on her face as well.
“Just looking at your pictures and thinking about Harry’s 11th birthday. How much fun we had together, it was like we were a little family,” He spoke gently as he got into the bed next to her.
“Do you want a family one day?” She asked the man, she had never gotten an answer out of him in all of the years she had asked, she hoped this time he would answer.
“As long as I’m with you, I’d be happy to have a family, I’d be happy with just us and Harry. The decision is in your hands,” He replied. Never had she expected her heart to feel like liquid but it did indeed.
“You’re a good man Severus,” She spoke, her voice clear and full of love.
“And you’re a good woman, Y/N,” He replied, his voice too full of love.
The pair had fallen asleep rather quickly that night, starting off side by side but moving towards each other like magnets during the night. The two ending up spooning the rest of the night, Severus behind her, holding her body to him in a protective manner and Y/N in front of him, her hand resting on top of his, surrounded by his love and protection.
taglist
@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5 @atanukileaf
142 notes · View notes
gaysindistress · 6 months
Text
Van Helsing Retold - four
pairings: vamp hunter!reader x vamp!bucky
Summary: Under the cover of night, vampires and their hunters have been at war for centuries, never letting their bloodshed reach the light of day. That is until the wife of a powerful vampire leader, Steve Rogers is murdered and he demands revenge. Y/N Van Helsing is the target of his crusade and she comes face to face with his right hand man, Bucky Barnes.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of death
Word count: 2.9k
three | series masterlist
Tag list: @vonalyn @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom @nerdytif @teambarnes72
disclaimer:credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest.
“Is she always this stubborn?” Bucky asks without looking back to Sam who’s returned from dropping off the she in question.
“Sometimes but we did just tell her that her entire life has been a lie,” Sam pauses, “why didn’t you tell her about being her mate?”
Bucky takes in a deep shaky breath as he stares at his hands that are clasped between his knees.
“I don’t see how that would’ve gone well for either of us. I half expected her to pull out a stake when I released her from my persuasion.”
“But she needs to know,” Sam urges.
“Don’t you think I know that?” He snaps back with an edge in his voice, “Don’t you think I know that I could help her but she won’t let me? It kills me to know that all it would take is for her to drink some of my blood and she would be healthy again. She would be safe but she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can feel that hatred radiating from her when she sees me.”
Sam purses his lips for a moment before coming to sit next to Bucky, “She’s scared Bucky. She doesn’t want to die and she definitely doesn’t want to be the one thing she’s been taught to kill. You might be right in that she hates what you are but not who you are. None of that matters though because she’s terrified and her only chance at survival is one that she’s too afraid to take.”
Bucky can feel the heartbreak that Y/N is trying to ignore as she turns restlessly in her bed down the hall. He yearns to go to her and comfort her, lay next to her and take away any pain that she has.
But she would sooner kill him than accept any affection from him.
“I’ve never seen her hesitate the way she does with you; it’s her training fighting against her instinct and she’s never had that before. They’ve always been the same thing but with you, she hesitates, she fights against everything she knows,” Sam continues, “I’m not saying barge into her room right now and express your undying love for her but be honest with her. Tell her about your bond and tell her that you don’t expect anything, you wanted her to know so that everything is on the table. Give her the chance to fight her training and choose you.”
Tumblr media
Sleep and I need to have an open and honest conversation because this whole flopping like a fish for hours on end is not cutting it. It’s been at least 6 hours of this and I’m starting to think that sleep will never come.
I tell myself that it’s because of what they told me about my mom or the fact that I’m a vampire safehouse (I can only assume so) but that’s not it. Nothing that I would be willing to openly admit is the cause of my restlessness. The true cause is the empty cavern that sits inside my heart and the gnawing feeling of barrenness that accompanies it. There’s a tug and small flood of warmth that follows but in its wake are more crushing feelings of nothingness.
I curl into a ball and tuck myself as close to the wall as I can. The kid in me hopes that if I make myself small enough, I’ll disappear but I know that won’t happen. No amount of shrinking could make me or these…feelings go away. They will always be there and the only time they lessen, if only for a moment, is when I’m near him.
There’s a shuffle outside of my door and a pause before a small knock. The person doesn’t come in and I groan as I lift my head enough to tell them they can, in fact, come in. Still facing the wall, I don’t see who it is and honestly I can’t find it in myself to guess. Whoever it is, takes a hesitant seat at the foot of the bed, just far enough away to not touch me or invade my space. I’m grateful for it but say nothing. They shift, causing the bed to groan under their weight. I can’t feel their eyes on me but I can hear the anxiety in their breathing.
“Sam, please don’t,” I start but the person interrupts me.
“Not Sam,” Bucky’s voice is small and timid, like a child too afraid of being scolded to speak any louder.
I still but the cavern inside of my heart feels like it’s beginning to fill in and I relax as much as I can at the welcomed feeling.
“Why are you here?”
“There’s…there’s more I wanted to tell you.”
I don’t say anything, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t. Turning over so I can at least face him and he’s waiting for me to give him approval to speak like he did when he knocked. He’s just barely sitting on the edge of the bed. Almost to the point of falling off as he leans his forearms on his Jean clad thighs. He’s put on a black sweatshirt which surprises me. Vamps don’t get cold but here before me is an example of how wrong I am about his kind.
“If it has to do with my mom, I’d rather not know.”
His downcast gaze and long lashes hide his eyes from me but they flicker over to me for a moment before casting back to the ground.
“It's not about that.”
“Then what is it?” I know my voice isn’t as gentle as it should be and I immediately regret not fixing my tone as he flinches ever so slightly.
The faint sound of metal clinging together draws my attention to his hands where one ring sits. The sound came from him rubbing that ring against a bracelet tucked under his sleeve. Most vamos do wear jewelry but it’s usually massive and flashy to show off their wealth. It’s unusual to see such a plain signet ring and even more plain silver cuff. I’m half tempted to ask about them but I don’t. I don’t want to know anymore about him. I don’t want to know anything about him that would humanize him and validate the warmth that the vacancy in my chest.
“The bond can heal you,” he starts as he lets out a deep sigh, “it’ll hurt but it’ll stop the infection and you'll be healthy again.”
I push my blanket off of me and sit with my back against the wall. My legs are folded under me and I allow my eyes to settle on his back.
“How do we find my mate then, if I even have one? I know you’re supposed to feel something drawing you towards them and werewolves can scent theirs but I’m not a vamp. I’m still human.”
Bucky doesn’t say a word or let out a breath for that matter.
“Bucky?”
Nothing.
“Bucky?”
Of course he chooses the silent treatment during the worst possible fucking moment. Of course he would be that big of an asshole to do something like this….
Oh.
Oh.
Oh my god.
Oh my fucking god.
Tumblr media
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” John’s angry voice threatens to burst everyone’s ear drums. The crowd that’s gathered inside of the Guild shrinks back at the sound of his voice.
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t find her?”
The man who John is yelling at, tries to stand tall but it’s nearly impossible.
“She was resting and Sam Wilson was watching over her. During the guard change…”
“I ALREADY KNOW HOW YOU FUCKING LOST HER, WHAT I WANT TO KNOW IS HOW YOU CANT FIND HER!”
The man squeezes his eyes shut, “she went into the Masked Club and after that the trail went cold. There are no other leads for us to follow.”
“Fucking pathetic,” John spits at the shaking man. He spins, giving the man a false sense of relief, before he turns back and throws a stake at his heart. The man stumbles back from the impact and chokes as he falls to the ground.
“Let that piece of shit be a warning to all of you; find Y/N Van Helsing and Sam Wilson or you will end up with a stake in your chest.”
Tumblr media
No.
This simply cannot be.
This simply cannot be possible.
The panic must be evident in my rapid breathing because Bucky barely tilts his head to look at me. His face softens and he turns his body to face me, his hands reaching out to comfort me but they fall to the bed. He searches my face for anything at all but all he would find is sheer confusion and panic.
“Talk to me,” he gently whispers to me.
I can’t though. I can’t get the words out. I can’t get my mouth or tongue to work. I can’t get my lungs to expand or my brain to function. All I can do is look at him with bewilderment.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way but you need to know everything if I expect you to trust me.”
I stare at him.
I stare at the vampire who’d saved me at least twice.
I stare at the vampire who I'd only known for maybe a week but who has still taken up all of my mental space.
I stare at the man who I felt a strange sense of overwhelming comfort and safety when I’m around him.
I stare at the man who is offering to risk death to save me, someone who should’ve killed him that first night.
I stare at Bucky, the man who I know to be my mate, and I can’t find the strength to say anything to him.
“I’m not telling you this to manipulate you if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“How long have you known?” The words feel heavy in my mouth, like I haven’t spoken in years.
“Since the night you killed Peggy.”
I raise my eyebrows, “what did it feel like?”
“Like my entire world was falling apart and I couldn’t stop it but it didn’t matter because I’d finally found…you.”
my brows knit together at his sincerity and I have a million questions I want to ask, alas none of them come out.
It seems as though he can read my mind and answer the most pressing, “some humans will feel it too but not always. Sometimes it doesn’t happen until after they’re turned.”
“Would it affect the bond?” I mumble.
He sighs again, “I’m not sure.”
“And it could kill you? Breaking the bond?”
He nods, “but if that's what it takes to keep you safe and healthy, then i'll do it.”
I nod too, slowly and more to myself. Did I feel it that night? Did I feel the bond snap into place? I honestly can’t say that I did but I was also preoccupied with my head wound and Peggy having spit on me. It would make sense if it did and I just didn’t happen to feel it. Given everything I have been feeling, all signs point to that likelihood.
“It doesn’t have to be now or even soon. We can wait until you’re feeling stronger. It’ll take a toll on you too.”
My eyes make a slow ascent from the hand closest to my knee to his pale blue eyes. They're unyielding in the way they hold my attention but yet soft enough that I don’t shy away.
“It’ll kill you.”
“It could.”
“You’ll die,” I whisper as I search for any hesitation in his face.
“But if that's…”he starts and I stop him almost immediately.
“No there’s no ‘if that's what it takes’, Bucky. You can’t sacrifice yourself like this for someone you don’t even know.”
“I do know you.”
I scoff, “no you don’t. Besides would you let me do this for you? Would you let me risk dying to save you?”
He hesitates but shakes his head. He would never dream of letting me do the same for him.
“It’s different with me. I’ve lived my life and you haven’t.”
I lean forward and grip his hand without thinking, “You turned when you were 26, I hardly call that ‘living your life’. I can’t ask you to do this for me no matter what we are to each other.”
Bucky looks at our joined hands and then to me, “did you feel it?”
His eyes flutter shut when I gently squeeze his hand, “did you feel it that night?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
My blunt words shock him and he tries to pull his hand away but I clamp down on it.
“That’s not what… that’s not what I meant. I don’t remember feeling anything but a lot happened and now I feel something, I just don’t know what it is.”
He furrows his brows at me, well at the fact I wouldn’t let his hand go, but he keeps the conversation moving, “describe it.”
“Well,it feels like there’s an empty void inside of my chest that wasn’t there before. It’s like a door was unlocked somewhere down the line but I don’t know when and it aches all of the time. My chest, my whole body really, hurts constantly and nothing I do or take makes it go away. At first I thought it was because of my head but it gets better.”
I stop. I can’t say the next part. I can’t admit that. I can’t tell him that.
Bucky begins to rub his thumb over the tops of my knuckles in a soothing way and the words spill out.
“It doesn’t hurt as much when I’m near you. It still gnaws at me but it’s better. It feels better…I feel better.”
“What about the pull?” He asks softly.
I tug at his hand, urging him to come closer and he does. He climbs further into the bed and sits in front of me, his own legs folded under him like mine. Our hands are joined in between us as he keeps his head bent so he can focus on our hands.
“It’s there too. That and the emotions. I think I’ve felt some of your stronger emotions like at the club with Helmut.”
Nodding, Bucky takes a deep breath before flickering his eyes up to mine. His long lashes hide their full intensity from me but nonetheless, it’s there. He holds my half gaze for a moment and I feel a wave of warmth; adoration, comfort, safety…and something more ways over me. My infected hand, ever the cruel reminder of my situation, screams out in both joy and rage.
I think he can feel it too because he drops my other hand to hold just the sickly one. Once again he’s gentle in his motions as he rubs his thumb over the protruding veins and bones.
“Are you happy?” He asks without warning or context.
“Are you happy as a human?” He clarifies.
“Of course,” I say but it’s rather unconvincing. A week ago I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat because I was doing what I thought was my destiny. I am a Van Helsing, the last of the greatest line of Vampire Hunters. Slaying the creatures of the night is in my very DNA and I’m exceptionally good at it. I had been happy before I met him although bored but I was happy…I think.
Now I can’t say for certain. Now one of my hands is infected with venom and it’s slowly starting to unthaw the protections the doctors tried to use. The only way to cure me is to turn or essentially kill the one person the universe chose for me. Now the worst vampire on the American East Coast wants my head on a silver platter while his right hand man sits before me asking me if I’m happy. Now I don’t know what the fuck the word even means and I don’t know how to answer him in a way that’s believable.
“Tell me the truth; are you happy?”
I drop my head, I can't look at him anymore.
“No.”
“Would being free of the venom make you happy?”
“No.”
“Then what would?”
You.
While unspoken, the simple word fills both sides of the bond and wraps us in a cocoon of warmth.
You.
Him.
Me.
Us.
Bucky shakes his head like he’s shaking out the thought, “Your happiness will be found in your freedom.”
I hadn’t noticed that he’d grabbed my chin and was looking me in the eyes when he said that. I hadn’t felt the way of complacency that overcomes me as I nod along with his instructions.
You will remember that we are mates but you will feel no different about me.
You will remember that we are mates but you will go through with the curing of her hand.
You will remember that we are mates but you will not feel anything when I die as a result of the bond being severed.
Next thing I know I’m laying in my ball of blankets again and it’s been hours since I thought I saw Bucky. The cold of his touch still chills my skin but it’s nothing compared to the freezing of the connection between us.
Tears slid down my cheek but I can’t figure out why. I have no reason to cry. I have no reason to care that the connection feels like it’s dying. I have no reason to care about him.
He made sure of that.
98 notes · View notes
mtfstuff · 1 year
Text
Life changing night
As a child I always wanted to protect my country when I'm older, just like my father did. He was the police chief of my hometown and I had great respect for him. When I turned 21 I found out that I was somehow gifted with a magical power. I could control minds and transform bodies. After I found out I started to improve myself. I gave myself abs and pecs as well as huge arms and legs. I was in an instant the strongest guy in my year at school and I changed the memories of the others to accept it. I kept it a secret for about a year until my father had a work accident. He got shot and had to sit in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I told him that I could help him but he didnt believe me at first. I started to change his spine to get him to walk again. At first he was happy but it didnt last long. Shortly after it he became afraid of what I could do but he didnt let it show. It was that night where I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night surrounded by swat teams. My father had called the police and told them about me.
I was drugged and imprisoned in a secret facility so that the government could study what makes me different. Lucky me, I found a way to act like I was drugged. Every meal I got a pill to stay submissive and compliant but after some time I managed to break free and sonce then I've kept every single pill in a secret hiding spot. I was in there for about 2 years before I was fully conscious again. That was 19 months ago and every spare minute I had, I worked on a way to break out of the facility and today is the day.
Its Friday, 31. October. Halloween.
I woke up and had breakfast before I was lead into a test it was short and I had the rest of the day off. I waited until dusk and then I broke out. I moved away the mirror above the sink in the bathroom and entered a secret tunnel. I silently left the estate and walked towards the nearest town.
My prison uniform wont be noticed anytime soon as everyone is dressed up. I walked through the streets at the edge of the city, hoping to see an open window or door to sneak into a house do change my clothes but sadly everything was closed.
I started to think about other options. Breaking into a house or store? Probably too loud.
Knocking out a parent to steal his clothes? Possible if no one is around.
I continued walking down the streets alone, no one around until I suddenly saw someone coming towards me. From the way the person walked I could see that its a man and while coming closer I finally saw that he wore a military uniform. It seems like he noticed my clothes too as he started to change his grip on his gun.
Tumblr media
We finally stood in front of each other.
"No need to worry, its a costume.", I said.
"Oh good. While I dont know of any prison around here I was still cautious.", he answered.
"I'm Luke.", I introduced myself.
"Mike.", he answered.
I sized him up. We were similarly tall and muscular. I wouldnt even change a lot about myself to be him physically.
"And whats a soldier doing on the streets all alone?"
"Oh.", he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a real soldier but I'm wearing it as a costume today. I was walking around with my nephew and he wanted us to be soldiers together. I just brought him home. What about you?"
"Just brought my son to my ex.", I lied. "He wanted to be a police officer and I should be his prisoner."
Mike laughed. "Sounds like he got you under control."
"Yeah, he does.", I chuckled.
It followed a short moment of weird silence.
"I have nothing else to do this evening. You seem like a good guy, want to come with me for some beer and small talk?", he asked.
What an opportunity, I thought.
"Yeah, sure!", I answered.
We walked to his house and he let me in. We sat down in his living room and talked a lot. At the end both of us had like 6 to 7 beer and I wanted to alter his mind to let me transform him as he asked a sudden question.
"You know, this may sound weird to you...", he burped. "But I really like you. I never had a feeling like this towards anyone."
Well, this is another way to get what I want, I thought.
"I feel the same.", I said. "Since the first time I saw you in your uniform I wanted to have you, to serve you."
"Well then why dont we go upstairs together."
He took my hand and lead me upstairs. He sat down on the bed and pushed me to my knees.
"If you dont want to go to prison again you maggot, start sucking my dick.", he said firmly.
"Roleplay, I like it.", I said.
What was that maggot?!", he said.
"I dont want to go back, sir!", I answered.
"Then suck. And make sure that not a single drop gets on my uniform."
I opened his fly and took his hard 6 inch cock in my mouth. He grabbed my head and slid my head up and down on his shaft. After a few minutes he exploded his warm seed without warning into my mouth and I made sure that I swallowed every bit of it.
"That was awesome!", he panted.
I started to strip him out of his uniform. I opened his boots and peeled off his green wool socks. I opened his belt and pulled off his pants and underpants, followed by his vest, shirt and undershirt. He was now laying naked in front of me. He was a sight to behold. Great abs, big pecs and massive calfs and biceps.
"Oh no! This poor soldier got stripped by the prisoner he wanted to bring to the police. I hope he doesnt fuck me rough without lube.", Mike said with a smile.
"You soldier can only hope to see the daylight again now that I have you beneath me!", I role played further.
"Oh, help. Please!", he said while I turned him on his stomach.
I pulled my dick out of my pants and quickly enlarged it to a nice hard 9 inches.
"This could hurt, soldier boy.", I said as I slowly entered his hole.
Mike gasped as I entered his hole but he quickly moved up and down on my dick. We had sex for about 2 hours and it was a blissful experience. Both if us covered in sweat were lying next to each other on the bed. We looked each other deep into the eyes.
"Hey Mike, I...", I stammered. "I've got a question."
"Of course. What is it?"
"Could I put on your uniform?", I asked.
"That would be hot.", he answered.
I hopped out of his bed and walked towards the pile of clothes I left on the chair while I undressed Mike.
Tumblr media
I took his still warm boxers and sniffed them. I looked at Mike and saw how he stroked his dick.
I stepped into his boxers and slid my feet into his damp socks. I pulled on his undershirt and his pants. I closed the belt and put on his shirt and vest. I wiggled into his boots and tied them up. I slipped my hands into his gloves.
"This feels awesome!", I said.
"Hello staff sergeant! How can I help you?", Mike asked.
I could see how aroused he was seeing me in his uniform.
"I know I'm not a cop so I have no rights to indrude your home Mr., but I was told that a prisoner was seen entering this house. Do you know anything about this?", I asked firmly.
"No sir, I havent seen a prisoner here.", he said still stroking his dick.
"Do you mind if I take a look around?", I asked.
"No, not at all sir."
A walked around the room until my old clothes were in front of me.
"What do we have here...", I said, picking up my orange shirt and pants. I threw them at Mike, followed by my orange loafers.
"Put them on. I'll bring you to the police, prisoner!", I said.
I saw how excited Mike was. He stepped into the pants and slipped the shirt over his abs. After that he slipped into the loafers.
"Please, I was falsely imprisoned. I'd do anything to get away from it.", Mike said.
"Well, if thats the case, suck me off and I'll see what I can do for you.", I answered.
Mike crawled towards me, opened my fly and pulled out my hard dick. He went right down on it without hesitation. His mouth engolfed my dick like a wet, warm cave. His tongue played easily with my hard dick and I put my hands behind his face. I slowly started to facefuck him, getting rougher and rougher until I exploded into his mouth. He immediately started to swallow until he got every drop.
It made me feel ecstatic and my knees got weak. I dropped on my knees and was now face to face with Mike again.
"I love this feeling of power. I love wearing your uniform. I'd love to be you, a soldier.", I said panting.
"And it suits you good.", he said.
He came in for a kiss and I didnt stop him.
We kissed and I wanted to shove my hand beneath his shirt as he suddenly pulled me to the ground.
We wrestled for a short time but it was clear from the beginning that Mike had the upper hand by knowing all the fighting tactics. Je quickly had me locked in a position where I couldnt move my right arm and leg.
His arm moved over my chest down to my dick.
"You may wear the uniform and look like a soldier but you dont know a thing being a soldier.", Mike whispered in my ear.
I felt how he started stroking my dick.
"And now the soldier will be fucked by the prisoner.", he continued.
He managed to turn me around while keeping me pinned down to the ground. I felt how he pulled the pants from my butt before his dick entered.
He got a fast pace but I figured out that he was to focused on fucking me that he wouldnt pay attention to my body changing. I focused on Mikes appearance and started my transformation. I lost my tattoos, made my muscles slightly grow and then I started to change my face.
My hair got shorter, my jaw more square. I now resembled Mike in all his glory.
At last I changed my voice to match Mikes.
"You wont get away with this you scum. You cant just fuck a soldier and think you can just leave.", I said, hearing Mikes deep baritone voice.
"Oh my... wait, what the- uurgh!", Mike sounded confused but he shot his load into my ass.
Mike pulled out and turned me on my back.
"How can you sound like me? Look like me?!", he shouted.
"I do what?!", I answered, playing unknowing.
He stood up, pulled me with him and pushed me in front of the mirror.
He looked at himself, I could see a slight relief and then he looked at me.
"We're like twins!", I said moving my hands through my hair and over my jaw.
"How can we revert this?", he mumbled.
"I'd love to go to your work as you.", I said under my breath.
"Impersonating a soldier.", I didnt think he'd hear me. "Hot but dangerous."
"You'd let me do it?", I asked.
"I think so but you dont know a thing about my work, let alone my colleagues."
I turned around to look at him. My hard dick in the uniform pants brushed against his thigh.
I started kissing him and he moved his hands to my bubble but. We kissed passionately.
"You know I could change that deficit.", I said.
I quickly kissed him before I started to copy his memories. He felt that something was wrong and tried to push me away but I didnt let go.
I finished copying before he pushed me away.
"What did you just do? I- I feel a bit dizzy.", Mike said.
"Easy there Mike.", I helped him to sit down on his bed. "I just copied your memories. I could now go to your work and no one would know I'm not the real you."
"But- but how?", he stepped away from me.
"I dont know how to say it.", I said.
"Then try to explain it.", he said taking my hand.
"I have...this power. I can change the body and mind. And I really wanted to be you because I like you so much."
"So you could make my power fantasy real?"
"Your what?", I asked perplexed.
"I- I always- okay, since my early teenage years I somehow liked, maybe even loved being talked down, even though I was muscular since the beginning. That was the real reason I joined the army. I wanted to get screamed at, dragged through the mud and so on. But I quickly found out that that didnt really happen, I quickly shot up the career ladder and suddenly I was supposed to scream at others."
I was totally surprised.
"Could you maybe make me your submissive prisoner?", he continued. "I mean, you'd have your dream of being me, staff sergeant Mike Walker."
He got closer to me and grabbed my bulge.
"And I could be the muscular prisoner who you use as a slave and humiliate.", he continued.
He squeezed my bulge and it was so good.
"Please, I beg you Luke.", he said. "Influence my mind, make me forget my life as a soldier. Maybe even change my face to fit a slave."
Tumblr media
A year later and I have the best time of my life. I am the soldier I always wanted to be and my life with Mike, now called Mouse is also incredible. I lift the blockade in his mind on special occasions and he always tells me how much he liked the past time as his dream. Tonight is halloween again and my nephew wants me to be soldiers with him again. The real Mike asked to come with us, fully conscious. He would be one of my friends, of course dressed as a prisoner. My nephew loves the idea and Mike cant wait for the time when we are alone again.
This definitely is a much better life than I thought I would ever get.
----------------------------------------------------------
I'm back and sadly I didnt manage to hit my deadline to post this story on halloween, but at least I'm close. I'm working on more stories again so look forward to them.
667 notes · View notes
corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months
Text
well it's love, make it hurt: The Life Day Special
Tumblr media
well it's love, make it hurt series
bonus: The Life Day Special
series masterlist
(This takes place several years after the series epilogue.)
dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader
Words: 5.1k
Summary: You, Din, and Grogu return to Batuu for your first Life Day celebration as a clan.
Warnings: bdsm, d/s dynamics, enthusiastic consent, preestablished safeword etc, dom!din djarin x sub!reader, soft din djarin, din djarin is a good dad, vaginal sex, author plays god with the timelines (sorry), canon adjacent?, canon divergence?, no use of y/n, tooth-rotting fluff, Life Day Fluff
also on ao3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
12 ABY - Autumn
You kept your apartment.
It wasn’t home, not anymore, but something in the back of your mind wouldn’t relax its jaws and release the safety. So you kept it.
Which is how you end up winning the argument and taking Grogu to Batuu for his first Life Day celebration (since meeting Din, at least).
“You never cared about Life Day before,” Din complained half-heartedly. He’s getting a little too good at faking his expressions now; you miss the early days when his exposed face was an open book. But the sulking doesn’t reach his eyes, so you roll yours exaggeratedly.
“They love Life Day at the Outpost. It was hard not to get involved.”
"Involved" meant too many themed drinks at the Cantina and then feeling bad for yourself in your quiet apartment, but Din didn’t need to know that.
All he needed to know was how your heart had ached, watching the families under the soft glow of the celebratory blue orbs. How you sat alone at the bar as whoever got stuck behind it for the night told you of sharing joy and harmony with their families during the day.
It was enough to convince him. He couldn’t begrudge you Life Day with a family.
Tumblr media
So here you were, dusting off the counters in your old flat, Grogu bouncing on the couch with absolutely terrifying stunts.
You know now of his abilities, but that doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t skip a beat when he flips through the air. Amid his squeals of joy and your thorough cleaning, you hadn’t noticed Din leave the room.
You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the mattress he had just made up with clean bedding. The blinds in your apartment are all drawn, and none of you don your armor inside.
Your first thought is how small he looks. You’re used to seeing him in just his underclothes now, so the sight of him in the fitted black flightsuit shouldn’t be jarring. Maybe it’s the way his lips are pursed, or brows scrunched together. Maybe it’s the way he’s clutching the baby’s vibrant red robe in both hands.
“You don’t have to wear one.” You try for a light tease, but it just sounds a little anxious.
He looks up, alarmed at your tone. But it’s not him you’re afraid of. It’s whatever’s got him looking so sad. He can read it, though. You’ve always been an open book to him.
He sighs, eyes closing for a moment, and you feel something catch inside your throat.
“C’mere,” he says, patting the bed. You take your place beside him, slipping an arm around his warm body. He leans against you, head resting on your shoulder, and you press your lips to his hair.
“What’s wrong, cyare?” you whisper.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, but you’re not convinced. “I just… I don’t remember them a lot. My parents. I should, I think, but there isn’t much there. My father covered in flour in the kitchen. My mother laughing at him. Just… glimpses.”
You don’t dare say a thing, but you do run your hand up and down his arm, humming acknowledgment when he pauses.
“I’m not upset. Don’t go feeling bad,” he says, and you look at him to parse the warning. “My last memories of them were in robes like these.”
“Oh, Din—”
“I told you not to feel bad. It can’t really hurt me anymore. I just haven’t thought about it like this in a long time.” He takes another deep sigh, tugging you with him to lie back on the bed. He rolls to his side and pulls you close.
“I don’t think they were for Life Day, just that they were red. I had one, too. Their hair was dark, like mine. But I can’t remember anything else.”
You let the silence sit for a moment. You watch each other’s eyes, deep and shadowed. You get it. You stopped being able to see your ghosts long ago.
“They’d be proud of you,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “A mercenary for a son.”
You shake your head as best you can with the bed against your cheek and reach up to push errant curls behind his ear. Your hand slides to cradle his face. “No. An honorable man. A strong warrior. A loving father.”
Something is churning in his eyes, something he can’t let in right now, not today. He blinks it away and kisses you, winding his hands into your hair and shirt, drawing you as close as he can until the grief is replaced by need.
You’re not sure how he ends up on top of you, but his lips never leave yours, and he licks inside like he can swallow you whole. You’d let him, of course. You give him what he needs: a soft, pliant outlet for his pain.
You do stop him, though, when he goes to tug off your flightsuit.
“Put that on the docket for later, riduur. We’ve got a tree to see.”
He whines but stops trying to peel you bare. He does not, however, let you get up, the hard line of his cock pressing against where you’re burning for him. One hand dips into the mattress while the other comes up to hold the back of your neck and draw you into a deep kiss.
He grinds against you as he licks into your mouth, making you cry out into his.
“Din,” you whine, weakly pushing at his shoulder. Your heart’s not in it, but you feel obligated to try.
He smirks into the kiss, and the cockiness of it just about does you in. Which is, of course, when he pulls completely back. He goes from having you pinned and nearly coming in your pants to standing at the side of the bed with his head cocked.
“What’re you doing lounging around, cyare? I thought we needed to leave?”
“I’m gonna kill you,” you groan. “C’mon, please?”
“We wouldn’t want to be late,” he chides, already halfway through the door to the living room.
Tumblr media
The town is dark, amber lights dimmed or extinguished in preparation for the ceremony. The warm breeze carries the low chatter in and out of the streets as people mingle and relax.
The tree is set up in the open rotunda of docking bay seven, the usual tables shoved against the walls. The restaurant is open, and people are drifting in and out of the cantina.
It’s weird to be back. You feel like a holo, flickering in and out. You see faces you recognize, but of course, they don’t recognize you. Not behind the steel.
In the end, you’re glad. Not having to feel obligated to make small talk about everything that’s changed over the years is a relief.
Until you see Moshi holding a little red bundle that looks suspiciously like an infant.
You let go of Din’s hand and go over. “Who trusted you with a baby?”
Moshi startles, and you remember the helmet. But he pauses and squints. “Is that you, kid? What’s with the bucket?”
“I asked you first.”
But he doesn’t need to answer. The hood of the baby’s Life Day robes falls back, and their little antennae pop free.
“Is that—”
“Yeah. We got married.”
You bite your tongue. You want to ask, but you don’t want to be rude.
“Yes, all three of us,” Moshi takes pity on your politeness.
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations,” you say. Then you laugh.
Moshi looks taken aback.
“No, I’m sorry. I just realized we both got married and have little green babies,” you say and wave Din over.
You visit for a few minutes after everyone has been introduced before breaking off to wander toward the tree.
Tumblr media
Din has Grogu in the birikad facing outward, but he still wraps an arm underneath and another around him. He’s bouncing him a little; you suspect it’s unintentional. His head is ducked down so he can murmur, letting Grogu hear him without the modulator picking it up.
The three of you had read a holobook together in bed last night about the meaning of the holiday, and you’d bet all the credits in your pouch that Din’s pointing out the things you saw in the illustrations.
It makes your chest feel weirdly tight, and you hang back a few steps so you can soak in the sight.
So this is what you’ve been missing out on. All those years spent yearning without really understanding. Joy, family, harmony. Your throat tightens as you watch your little clan.
The thing is, you know Din wants more kids. He’s never said it. But you know.
You’re just not ready.
And with the stupid hilt that hangs on your riduur’s belt, you’re not sure it’s a good idea. It scares you a little.
Okay, it scares you a lot.
But you’ve agreed not to discuss it until after this little vacation, so you avoid looking at it and thinking about what comes next.
You find your way to them before the lighting ceremony. One of the prominent Wookie community members gives a little speech, each sentence followed by their translator in Basic. The local schoolchildren put on a little performance.
It’s all cute and quaint, and you wonder, not for the first time, if that’s the life Grogu deserves.
You never wonder for long. He’s a Mandalorian; he’s not suited for this calm and quiet. This is not the life for your family, and that’s okay.
Din slides his arm around your waist, and you reach up to hold one of Grogu’s hands, the other of which is wrapped around his father’s glove. You look at your riduur and know he’s smiling back at you behind the visor.
Neither of you watch the lighting, too busy watching it reflect in Grogu’s wide eyes, the way he gasps when the orbs begin to glow. He reaches for them, and both of you whisper, “Grogu, no!” before he tries to summon one.
He blinks, eyes rapidly tearing up, so you take the chance to offer him a sweetbread.
“You spoil him,” Din teases like he hadn’t done the same thing earlier.
Tumblr media
Late that night, when you’ve wandered the market and taken in the crafts and wares, you pick up boxes of kaadu sliders and warm, buttery five-blossom bread before you head back to the apartment.
The baby, who’d been snacking all night, is asleep against Din’s chest, head flopped back against the beskar, and little limbs dangling from the holes in the carrier. Clutched in one hand is a little toy orb in a jute net.
(“You spoil him,” you had mocked in a poor imitation of his voice when he handed over far too many credits to the vendor.)
You carefully help undo the fastenings so Din can ease him into the pram. When he’s settled, and the lid closed, Din lifts his helmet off and places it on the counter next to the food.
He looks ravenous.
You are, too, but when you’re reaching for the takeout and he’s reaching for your beskar’gam, you realize you’re hungry for different things.
It only takes a second for you to get on board with him, though. You each unlatch the others’ armor with reverence, setting it on the long island that separates your kitchen and living room. He has far more pieces than you, but it gives you the chance to drop to your knees to remove his thigh and shin plates.
You hand each piece to him, your mind already filling with a quiet hum. When you look up at him, his fond gaze is almost worshipful, and you start to look away, the intensity curling in your stomach.
He catches your chin, holding it firmly. You squirm under his silent focus but don’t pull away. Finally, he grants mercy with a small smile and a stroke of his hand against your cheek before he helps you up.
His hands never leave you, sliding to your neck to pull you in for a kiss before grazing down, brushing the side of your breasts, tickling over your ribs, and landing on your hips. You press your foreheads together—something he loves even helmetless.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, “for tonight. I’m glad we came.”
“Me too,” you whisper before you’re unable to resist and catch his lips for a decidedly unchaste kiss.
He walks you backward to the bedroom, closing the door behind him without breaking the kiss. He peels you out of your flightsuit, stripping you until the only thing left is the thin chain around your neck.
He leaves the overhead lights off but indulges in one of the sconces near the door—ever since you were married, he hates to fuck in the dark, hates to have any part of you hidden from him.
You don’t mind. It means you get to see every time his eyebrows rise and fall or his lips twitch from pleasure and mirth. The way his face crinkles with laugh lines and age.
And his eyes. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough. He can hide nothing behind them, laying himself bare for you to greedily drink in.
Tumblr media
You correctly assume he’s up to something when, instead of groping you, he digs through his bag.
Except—”Hey, that’s my pack. What’re you looking for?”
He doesn’t respond, but you can see enough of his profile to watch the smirk sprawl out. It’s positively devious, and you shudder a little.
When he walks back to you, he hands you… your pajamas. You look up at him with a furrowed brow, clutching the soft shorts and tank top in your lap.
“I thought—”
He holds a finger to your lips. “Get dressed.”
You obey. You don’t fail to notice he hasn’t given you undergarments.
When you finish tugging the tank top down over your stomach, he wraps an arm around your waist, drawing you close.
“I was thinking about the first time we met here,” he says. There’s a preternatural glint in his eyes. Or maybe it’s just the glare of the sconce, but it feels unnerving.
“What about it?” Your voice wavers a little. You just know he’s up to no good.
“Oh, I don’t know. Just that, if there hadn’t been the extenuating circumstances—”
(a funny way to think of the time you thought he was dead and also tried to kill him, but okay)
”—it might have been fun. You know, catching you like that.”
Your brain catches up. “You want to hunt me.”
His responding chuckle is dark and rough. He’s already looking at you like prey. “I do. I want you to run from me, sweetheart, and then when I catch you, well. I suppose you’ll find out.”
Your heart has kicked up twice as fast, and your cunt aches. “What if I want to be caught?”
“I know you do. But you’re going to be a good girl and play this little game for me. You’re going to try very hard to evade me, so it’ll be all the sweeter when I get you.”
Shit. Kriffing stars. You’re burning so hot you think you may combust. “You can’t just say things like that,” you whisper, voice cracking.
He laughs, full out this time but not any less intimidating. “Like what? That there’s nowhere you can hide from me, pretty girl? That once I catch you, I’m going to help myself to a reward?”
You’re dripping; you know you are. You have to be, with the way all your bones have turned molten and your whole body throbs with need.
It’s not lost on him. “Better get your wits about you, ner lened’ika. Whether you get to cum or not depends on how hard you try to get away.”
It takes you a moment. You’re more or less fluent, now, but sometimes your brain gets tripped up by modifiers.
“Lene… lened’i—hey. That’s not playing fair.” You’re burning, the flush spreading from your ears to your chest rapidly.
“Am I wrong? You’re not my little target? My quarry?”
You bury your face in your hands. “You gotta lay off if you want me to be able to do this.”
He laughs. “You on the edge already, cyare?”
“You know I am.”
“Alright, fine. I was going to give you a ten-minute headstart. You can have fifteen.”
You open your mouth to complain, but he quirks an eyebrow. “Thank you, sir,” you grumble.
“Better get your shoes on, sweetheart. Timer’s about to start,” he goes to stroll back into the living room to collect his helmet.
“Wait.”
He stops and turns back to you, brows knitted with worry.
“I want some rules.”
The concern falls away, chased by the return of his smirk. “Okay, I can give you some rules.”
“No. I want to make some rules.”
“I’ll hear them,” he grants.
You’re a tempestuous sea of excitement and frustration. He’s not wrong, this sounds fun, but his cockiness is driving you to a boil. The innate obedience only he can draw from you is still in control, but stars do you want to just act up and get fucked.
“If I don’t get armor, neither do you. Just helmets,” you start with the most reasonable of your demands.
He nods.
“No jetpack.”
He has to pause and consider that one. “Fine.”
“You can’t bring any tools. No climbing hooks, no grappling line, nothing.”
“Fine—except these.” He holds up his set of binders, and the sight goes straight to your cunt.
You gulp instead of responding, wide eyes trained on the cuffs.
“Is that a problem?” he asks, with the smuggest grin.
You just shake your head. He already knows how little of a problem it is. Instead, you give your final demand.
“I get thirty minutes.”
“Nope.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Try that again, and you’ll get five.”
Fuck. There’s no way you’re making much longer than your fifteen. You’re already sweating and trembling a little.
“Don’t make it easy on me,” he warns. “Or I’ll make it easy on you.”
That shouldn’t be an effective threat. But here you are, whimpering at the idea of him not roughing you up a little.
“I know,” he says, oozing fake sympathy at your whines, “you’re always easy for me, huh?”
You narrow your eyes, reaching for your helmet. Right before you put it on, you give him a sweet smile and say, “I’ll see you back here in the morning.”
You slide it over your head in time to enjoy the way his eyes darken, and his mouth draws thin. Before he can retort, which you can see brewing in the way the tip of his tongue ducks out to wet his lips, you throw open the door and run.
Tumblr media
Your first thought is to stay in town. There are many hiding places, and it’s your home turf; you’d have a clear advantage. But you don’t want him to have to wait, to drag you back to privacy.
No. You’re hoping he fucks you on the ground wherever he finds you.
Instead, you’ll need to lose him before you climb the spires. You know the best area to cross them, but that’ll mean nothing if he follows you right there.
It doesn’t take much time to get out of town and past the old ruins to the river. You let your boots stick in the mud just a second too long when you enter the stream, leaving silt and whatever isn’t washed away on the rocky bank on the other side.
You take the trail to the edge of the towering trunks where your prints would fade and then use the infrared in your visor to backtrack carefully. There are a couple of sloppy spots, but you’re hoping his dick will be too hard for him to catch them.
When you get back in the river, you pull your boots off and carry them, wading through until it takes you around a bend and near the waterfall.
This is where you hesitate and lose time. The waterfall would be a good cover, but you’ll have to get fully wet to hide behind it. Also, the cavern there is rough and not really where you’d like to be stuck if he finds you.
But if you climb up, you won’t be able to use the river to hide anymore. Going against the strong current wasn’t much of an obstacle to this point, but a misstep up there would have more severe consequences.
In the end, you tuck your boots away behind a rocky outcropping at the base of the falls and sneak off barefoot along the hillside toward the ancient petrified forest. Maybe if you hurry, the wet footprints will dry.
When you reach the top of a spire and settle on the other side, you chance a look around, hoping his shiny head will give him away.
But you don’t see anything. Not with any of the scopes in your visor, either. There’s no way it was that easy. No way he hasn’t caught up.
Unless he’s already found you, and he’s hidden, making you sweat. Fuck.
That’s when you realize your foot stings, and you look down to find a cut on your heel. You must have scraped against the bark. It’s not a serious wound, but it poses a bigger problem as you peer down and verify that, yep, there’s blood on the side of the spire.
You wipe the blood off your foot and onto your shorts before putting pressure on the cut for a minute, trying to decide the best path forward. Once it’s not actively seeping, you descend the spire, keeping the hurt side of your foot as far away from the surface as possible.
You know it’ll start bleeding again when you start running, but maybe you can put distance between the initial drops and yourself.
You’re running out of options. It’s tough to admit to yourself, but you knew the risk when you abandoned your boots.
It’s harder than you thought to climb a tree with three limbs, but you don’t want to risk rubbing blood against the bark. Once you’re high enough into the branches, you cross over into another tree, and another, and another until you’ve put some distance between yourself and the spires.
Tumblr media
You startle when the comm inside your helmet crackles.
“Are you hurt?” he demands without greeting.
Shit. “I’m fine. Why?”
“Don’t lie to me, cyare. I saw blood.”
Does it count if you don’t lie again? Was it even technically a lie? “Lots of creatures out here, Din. Carnivorous ones, even.”
He huffs but doesn’t push. “Ready to give up yet, sweetheart? You sound out of breath.”
“Aw, can’t find me?” you tease. “Thought I was always easy?”
He growls, and you’re sure it was something threatening and hot, but you’re distracted by the fact that you could hear it. Without the helmet.
Which means you’re trapped. He doesn’t know where you are, but he’s close.
Your visor shows blood droplets on the ground and, sort of hilariously, along the bottom of a spray of leaves from when you had swung from one branch to another. Hopefully, it’s random enough to throw him off.
You’re holding every muscle still, letting the only rustle through the trees remain the light breeze. It’s not long before you hear the crunch of his boots.
He knows you’re close. For a man that can move silent as a snake to be making that much noise—well, he’s taunting you for certain.
He may know you’re close, but he’s not found you yet. You breathe with the breeze and hold quiet when it's still. It’s one of those awful moments where you watch as he comes up right beneath your branch just in time for a droplet of blood to roll off the sole of your foot.
With the forest as tense as your muscles, there’s nothing to divert its path. It slides right down his visor.
You don’t wait for him to look up. You launch yourself out of the tree on the opposite side, hitting the ground hard but rolling out of it. Dodging the thick trunks is difficult when all you can focus on is the sound of his pursuit.
He’s faster than you. It’s just the truth. You can outmaneuver him and maybe even outlast him, but when it comes to these short bursts of speed, it’s not even a close call.
So you’re ready when he tackles you. Well, when he tries to. Din is not a small man, and so he hurtles past you onto the ground when you dodge to the side and bring yourself to a sudden halt. You peel off in another direction while he springs to his feet.
This is such a different game of lothcat and womprat than you’re used to with quarry. You and Din are so in sync and so intimately familiar with the other’s movements that there’s no better match in the world. And at the same time, it’s so fucking infuriating.
Tumblr media
The next time he comes close, he actually gets one cuff around your wrist, but you’re already twisting out of his grasp. You think you’re getting away, but before you put enough distance, he catches you off guard.
He fucking binds himself with the other cuff. It’s maybe the hottest thing he’s ever done; it was so clever you kind of want to suck his dick about it. But, of course, that would be giving in. So, instead, you use your free arm to wiggle the pin out from your hair at the nape of your neck and try to stick it just right in the lock.
By the stars, it actually works. You’re off before he realizes what happened.
“Hey! You said no tools!” he yells, his voice echoing through the empty forest.
You didn’t, actually. You said he couldn’t bring tools. But you don’t waste the energy to remind him.
Also, you hadn’t exactly planned it. It was only accessible since you had none of your normal clothing or protections in the way. But he didn’t need to know that.
Tumblr media
It’s over the next time he catches up to you. After taking off, you hadn’t heard him follow. He’d gone back to being the silent predator and come at you from a different angle.
He tackles you from the side, and after a brief bout of wrestling, he pins you on your stomach and clasps the binders around both wrists. He’s using his whole body weight to hold you down, and your eyes roll back when he rolls his hips against you just right.
He’s so fucking hard; you feel your arousal gush in response.
He sits back, straddling your thighs, and lands a harsh smack to your ass. “Giving up?” he teases.
You squirm under him, but it’s no use, and you both know it. He laughs, and it sends a chill down your spine that’s somehow molten by the time it reaches your cunt.
He spanks you a few more times for good measure, sharp and strong, before he lifts just enough to yank your shorts down.
“Fuck, I can’t wait for this cunt,” he groans. And he doesn’t. He pulls out his cock, already swollen and leaking with need, and drives it right to your core.
No matter how slick you already are, it’s a glorious stretch. You cry out, and he reaches over and turns the volume on your helmet off.
“Scream for me all you want, sweetheart. Fuck, you take it so well.”
You’re still struggling a little, more out of instinct than desire to get away. Your brain protests being captured, but it changes its tune fairly quickly when the thick head of his cock knocks against something blissful.
“Yield, lened’ika,” he snarls, pushing one broad hand between your shoulder blades to pin you against the soil.
“No,” you try to snarl back, but it doesn’t come out quite as intimidating as you hoped, breaking on a moan.
He yanks your hips up a little, fucking up into you with no mercy. You’re so full, so stuffed with him, and each movement batters against your walls and sends sparks across your hazy eyes.
“Yield,” he snarls, smacking his hand against the side of your ass and then helping himself to a fistful.
You actually consider it, but the only sounds you can make are soft little huffs as he knocks the air from you on each thrust.
He reaches around and rubs your clit. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as he grinds the pad of his finger down.
You let out something akin to a sob.
“Gotta yield first,” he says.
“I yield,” you whimper.
“What was that, cyare? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I yield,” you moan as he pinches your clit. “Please, you win, please.”
“Good girl,” he groans. “Alright, give it to me.”
You cum as he rubs two fingers against your clit, flicking in opposition of each other in the way he knows will make you fall to pieces.
He draws one orgasm after another until you’re limp, dirt smudged across your visor. Your hips still buck weakly back to his.
He pulls out and flips you over, pinning your bound hands underneath you. He straddles your waist and tugs at his cock until he cums over the front of your helmet.
You gasp, and though it turns into a moan, you’re indignant. “Did you really just—”
He laughs. “It’s not as nice as when it’s on your pretty face, but it still suits you,” he teases.
He doesn’t miss the way his comment makes you squeeze your thighs together. He rubs a hand over your tits, pinching at your nipples until you whine.
“C’mon, cyare. Let’s go back, and I’ll clean you up.”
Tumblr media
He does. When you get back, thankfully unseen and having retrieved your boots, he plucks your helmet off. He really did mean to polish it right away, but you kiss him with such hunger that he takes care of the rest of you first.
Once you’ve gone boneless and mindless from his tongue, he reluctantly leaves the bed to clean up. You join him a few moments later, having foregone the soiled pajamas in favor of the tunic he was going to sleep in and a pair of panties.
You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, leaning against his broad back and pressing kisses against the warm, scarred skin.
“I think I’m ready,” you say.
He hums in question.
“To get rid of this place.”
He turns around to wrap his arms around you. “Here I was just thinking it has its perks.”
“Yeah?”
He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah. It’s been nice, don’t you think? To have somewhere familiar.”
You search his eyes and find only a soft warmth, like the flicker of a hearth.
“Let’s keep it,” he whispers against your lips. His hand winds into your hair to bring you in for a kiss.
71 notes · View notes
teaandransacking · 1 year
Note
Heyyyyy <3
I just wanted to ask if you could write a Lockwood x reader where the reader can't sleep because she had to much coffee in the day because of pervious nights events and she needed the energy. So Lockwood cuddles with her until she falls asleep
Love flames xxxxx btw happy easter xxxxx
Of course! Thank you for the request <3
Tumblr media
How much coffee can someone drink before the caffeine in it starts to give them adverse effects?
You stand in the kitchen of Portland Row, staring at the back of the tin of coffee. The only warning is: can lid and edges may be sharp after opening.
Fat lot of good that is, you think, snorting, and you’re about to spoon out another heap of coffee grounds into your mug when you notice your hand shaking a little.
Maybe it’s time to switch to decaf coffee. Or tea.
The kitchen door opens, interrupting you, and Lockwood saunters in. It’s the only way to describe his walk - although if Kipps is nearby, swagger works better.
He sniffs the air as he comes to stand next to you. “Not coffee again. Have you not tried tea?”
You shoot him a withering look. “Don’t you have any other jokes?”
He grins. “None you’d laugh at.” He takes a mug and a teabag from the cupboard, and looks at you again, and you get the feeling that he always sees more than you want him to. “Seriously, are you okay?”
You take a deep breath and sag against the kitchen worktop. “I keep thinking about the haunting last night. I expected it to be scary but instead, it was just…”
Letting your eyes drift closed, you picture the child ghost, scared, lashing out to protect itself from whatever, or more likely, whoever, had hurt it in life. 
“Sad,” Lockwood finishes, softly.
“And I don’t want to sleep, so.” You salute him with the empty mug.
He gently takes the mug from your hands. “I think I’m going to confiscate this and the tin of coffee. It’s about a hundred years old, anyway - definitely past its use by date.”
You chew your lip. “If you’re going to take the coffee away, I’ll need another way to stay awake.”
Lockwood shakes his head. “You’ve been awake for what, now - over twenty four hours? You need sleep, darling.”
The endearment makes your stomach flip in the most delicious way.
“But-”
“No buts.” He pushes aside his own mug. “What can I do to make you less afraid?”
A memory surfaces, but you hesitate.
He sees it. “What is it?
His voice is so gentle and his brown eyes are warm and bottomless.
“My mum used to curl herself around me, when I couldn’t sleep as a child.” Your face heats. “But I don’t-”
Lockwood nods, as if it’s settled. “That’s what we’ll do.”
You stifle a surprised laugh. You’ve been yearning after him for weeks and all you had to do was develop a little bit of insomnia?
Except it’s not really funny, is it? Not when you think back to the naked fear on that little visitor’s face.
“Are you sure?”
“I need my agents at full health,” he responds, but his tone is feather soft. He holds out his hand, palm up, and you put yours over it. His fingers curl around yours, and just that bit of contact sends every fibre of your being into a flurry of sparks.
Will you get any sleep with him so close?
“Where?” you ask.
“Your bed? If that’s okay, of course,” he adds.
That he’d repeatedly check with you is such a balm to your tired soul. “Yes. That’s perfect.”
Lucy and George are out. Lucy’s been drafted in as a deputy researcher today, so it’s just you and Lockwood at home. He leads you up the stairs to your room, and they creak under your steps, but it’s a happy, familiar sound.
You push the door open with your free hand.
“Pyjamas?” Lockwood asks.
“Nah.” You’re already wearing comfy clothes. Now that you’re faced with your bed, you’re exhausted. Tiredness drags at you with heavy hands. You yawn hugely.
“Excellent sleep prep,” Lockwood teases gently, as you toe off your slippers. 
You’re hesitant to get into bed, but he says, sensing your discomfort, “You go under the covers. I’ll go on top of them.”
“Thankyou.”
He inclines his head, says nothing, just waits for you.
You slip under the covers, but then your whole body tenses up. What if you dream of that small, sad face, frozen forever in fear?
Lockwood climbs on to the bed and settles in beside you.
“We put the child to rest,” he reminds you.
You turn to face him. “I’m afraid I’ll have a nightmare.”
Whisper-soft, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll stay here, so if you do, you can wake me up and tell me about it.”
You wouldn’t, you think. He always looks so tired. You wouldn’t wake him. You’d do anything to get him the rest he needs.
Maybe this will serve you both.
You snuggle up to him, as much as you can with the sheets and quilt between you. His lips are warm against your hairline. He folds his hands under his cheek and you do the same, facing each other like kids on a sleepover.
“Okay?” he asks.
Perfect. But you just say, “Yes. Thanks.”
But you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes.
Lockwood clears his throat and begins, “Did I ever tell you about the time George and I found a stray cat? It had this awful smell, and we decided to bathe it…”
The story is hilarious and sweet by turns, but you don’t hear the end. You fall asleep to Lockwood’s deep, soft voice and the feel of his warm body snuggled up to yours.
And in the morning, when you wake, rested, he’s snoring softly next to you, and it’s your new favourite way to wake up.
198 notes · View notes
buckysimp101 · 1 year
Text
Everything the Light Touches (18+)- Chapter Nineteen
Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader
chapter warnings: death, blood, angst
a/n: hiiiii friiiiiiends. this is a little filler chapter to hopefully appease y’all for a little bit. life has been so crazy the last month and i am so sorry for how long it has taken to update this fic. this chapter is definitely not as long as all the other chapters and for that I apologize
Series Masterlist 
Tumblr media
Ringing in your ears.
The murmur of voices, speaking softly but hurriedly. As if too afraid to speak above a whisper. For fear of disturbing you. The people around you.
It’s too late for that. It’s hard to disturb the dead.
Wails. The wails of a wife mourning her husband. It was Winnie’s sharp intake of breath before letting out another wail that brought you back to the present. Making you too aware of the feel of blood soaking through your fingers. To the red staining your wedding dress. To the tears making tracks down your cheeks as your body froze. It was as if you were wading through water. The voices were still muffled but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the body next to you. The feeling of a hand touching your shoulder grasped your attention as you tried to turn your head to face its owner. You were moving too slowly. Too slowly to actually function. But you knew you needed to look away. To get out. You all needed to get out. But looking into the shattered soul of Bucky Barnes had all the air whooshing out of your lungs.
Looking Bucky in the eyes was like what you expected it would feel like to open an airplane door mid-flight. He was watching you, his hand moving slowly to lightly grasp your chin. He was checking on you, making sure you weren’t harmed. But while he was checking on your physical wellbeing, you were taking inventory about his mental wellbeing. Bucky Barnes had spent years perfecting his look of disinterest, working hard to make sure a single emotion was never betrayed on his face. But Bucky wasn’t trying. You could see every single emotion fighting for dominance in his eyes. A roiling ocean of anger, angst, and fear. But he would never say that out loud. Bucky would never declare weakness. And this? This was intended to make him look weak. 
“It was intended for me,” he whispered to himself as he took your hands into his own and stared at his father’s blood staining you, his mother and the ground around him.
 You couldn’t breathe. 
You knew he was telling the truth. You both were aware that your marriage would start a war but you had, naively, thought it would take a little bit until the retaliation. And you surely didn’t expect the retaliation to begin with death.
Winnie’s wails had transitioned to hyperventilation, pulling you and Bucky from your shared shock to take in his mother. To full take stock of the situation at hand.
Natasha was in the process of pulling Winnie away from George’s body, but the widow gripped tighter, wails falling from her mouth yet again. Shattering your heart into a million pieces all over again and pulling your body over the edge. Sobs wracked your body as Bucky gripped you close to his chest and allowed you to cry before he was handing you to Steve and making his way to his mother. Winnie’s sobs worsened when Bucky took her in his arms and attempted to try and soothe his mother. As well as one can in such a traumatic moment.
The police showed up at some point but Steve and Bucky had taken over at some point, leaving you and Natasha to offer a shred of comfort to Winnie after the police had to practically force her out of the way so they could take George’s body. Her tears were soaking your hair and yours were soaking her dress. You knew the family was going to do something to make sure the word didn’t spread too far and wide about George’s death and if the press found out they’d find some way to try and spin it to take the heat off the rumors that would eventually swirl through Manhattan.
“He loved you. He always loved you. He suspected James being a part of the reason why you left all those years ago. But he never stopped loving you and he was always looking out for you,” Winnie’s voice cracked as she spoke, squeezing your hand to emphasize her words, bringing fresh tears to both of your eyes. 
Another hour passed.
And eventually your group was being moved into cars that weren’t marred with bullet holes and taken to the place you weren’t expecting. 
Stark Tower.
Tony and Pepper threw their door open, welcoming the members of the Barnes family into their penthouse before pulling you and Winnie into their arms and offering condolences, new shoulders to cry on.
“Winnifred, I am so so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say to change it, but please if you need anything, you can come to me,” Pepper urged, rubbing her hand on Winnie’s back.
You heard Tony whispering his condolences to Bucky and offering his penthouse  as headquarters for the necessary regrouping that would no doubt take place through the next many days. At least until George’s funeral.
You heard Bucky’s whispered thanks as he sat gingerly on the couch next to you.
What do you say to someone who just watched their father die a brutal death? On what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life?
Nothing.
There are no words.
But actions?
You slipped your hand into his, offering a tight squeeze.
He returned the gesture.
You’d get through this. You all would. It would hurt. You knew that. It already felt like someone had started the process of cleaving your very soul from your body. But you needed to survive. You had to survive. George would have wanted it.
Bucky stood abruptly as Steve entered the room with a number of Barnes men. Their faces were almost identical. Somber looks with obvious anger simmering behind their eyes. You could practically feel the tension in the room as Steve approached Bucky slowly. Stopping right in front of his best friend. Dropping to his knees.
And withdrawing his gun. Holding it flat in his palm. An offering.
And then he spoke.
“I offer my life and my loyalty, to the family Barnes. Upon the death of George Henry Barnes,” the sound of those in the room taking in a collective sharp inhale as his voice wobbled slightly, “I promise to walk beside James Buchanan Barnes. The head of this family. I promise to stay loyal. To never betray this organization. And should I fail, I offer my gun. My life. There will always be a bullet with my name on it.”
The words that Steve spoke fell heavy over your group. You could see Bucky’s throat moving as he tried hard to swallow the hurt that was making its way up his throat. It was dead silent as the room awaited Bucky’s response. Bucky nodded his head slightly, a silent gesture for Steve to stand. Steve bowed his head, moving his gun back to his holster as he stood, awaiting his boss’ response.
He took in a body shuddering breath and responded. 
“Steven Grant Rogers, your loyalty has been noted by this family for years. You will be the underboss of this family. And no one is to question you. You will take on the jobs assigned to you. And should my time on this earth be short, you will take care of this family. And so it is known.”
“And so it is known,” the other Barnes men repeated as Steve took a step to Bucky’s right side and the remaining men began their oath to Bucky and the family much like Steve just had. 
James Buchanan Barnes was officially the boss of the Barnes family.
And everything was going to change.
taglist:
@youlightmeupfinn​
@la-undercover-latina​ 
@niki-is-a-thing​
@gloriouspurpose01​
@wintasssoldier​
@crazyunsexycool​
@the-fool-who-jingled
@missvelvetsstuff​
@enchantedbarnes​
@asoftie4bucky​
@luvrsbian​ 
@snufflet​
@some-lovely-day​
@mochie85​ 
@fangirlvoice​
@juulle987​
@fab-notfat​
@jackiehollanderr​ 
@hallecarey1​
@sherlockstrangewolf​ 
@lokisasgardianvampirequeen​
@tripletstephaniescp​
@potatothots​
@desert-fern​
@dhoruwolfie​
@emmabarnes​ 
@sky0401
@broadwaybabe18​
@thebuckybarnesvault​
@wallace02sblog 
@youngblood199456​
@a-small-blue-nebula​
@elizacusi-blog​
@justlovelifeblog​
@sebsgirl71479​
@vickie5446​
@openup-yourmind​ 
@mimsie95
@kaitswrld​ 
@taylorspinkstripedsweater​
@eris-rose-86​
@goldenharrysworld​
@onlyferorder66​
@julieeba  
@ayyeitssarahh​
@d3m0n8ch1ld​
@sebastianstansqueen​
@not-another-fangirl​
@thesneakylittleminx​
@thebunkerismyhome​
207 notes · View notes
spookyspecterino · 6 months
Text
Gentle Promises in the Dark
Tumblr media
Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader
GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions.
Spoilers for Starfield's endgame content.
No warnings. There's just a pinch of anxiety, but it's all fluff and happiness.
Sam asks what your future plans are. Will you leave him in search for another universe or stay behind?
This was a lovely request! I'll be closing them for now, just because I have more to catch up on and I've been getting distracted. Thank you to everyone for supporting my work! This fandom has been so welcoming and lovely to interact with!
Tumblr media
Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It must be late by now. But he isn’t tired, his mind turns over and over with endless thoughts.
A faint ray of light draws his attention, it’s the bedroom door opening just a crack for you to slip in. It shuts right behind you, returning the room to its inky blackness. His thoughts halt with the sound of your quiet footsteps.
Sam feels you slide under the covers, your feet are cold, as usual, and you snuggle up to him. Instinctually he’s moving to let you lay on his bare chest—your favorite spot.
“Hey.” You whisper, sounding content at last.
“Darlin’.” He drawls back in greeting, wrapping his arms around you.
“You doing ok? You’re not usually awake this late.”
“Just thinking.”
“Hm. About what?”
“Just about…” he sighs. “Everything.”
“Sounds like a lot.”
“Yeah…”
An uncomfortable silence lays in the air. Instead of passing, it lingers until Sam sighs again.
He decides to ask the question that’s been on his mind for a few weeks now.
“Are you going to go back into the Unity?”
Are you going to leave me behind?
You don’t answer at first. Memories surface of all the other times you traveled through the Unity. And all the times you came out of the other side. Feeling empty.
Out of fear or nervousness, you may have brushed the question off any other time, but now you answer honestly. “I don’t know. A long time ago I thought it was my purpose. Finding artifacts, fighting the Hunter, passing through the Unity… but…”
Sam hesitates, waiting on the edge, he wants you to continue. But he’s afraid of your answer.
“This universe…it’s different than the others.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this, but how many universes have you been to? How many years have you been doing this?”
You chuckle. It sounds pained. “Too many to count and too many for one lifetime.”
Sam tries to laugh, to alleviate the anxiety he feels bundled up in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’re older than I am?”
Groaning playfully, you nuzzle into his neck. Your smile against his skin makes his heavy heart a little lighter.
“Let’s not talk about that part.”
He pulls you closer. “Ok deal.”
The silence lingers again.
“Are you looking for an opinion?” he asks, his voice very quiet.
“From you? Always.”
“I think you should stay here. With us—with me. We could…” He clears his throat, swallowing the words his heart wanted him to say.
“We could what?”
After a few beats of his pounding heart, “It’s gonna sound sappy, but…we just keep going. Grow older together. Watch Cora grow up. Live out our golden years exploring the stars.”
“You really want that?”
“Hell yes I do.”
You fall silent. Sam stares into the dark. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep abyss with no end. He wished you’d just spit it out, give him the bad news so he could start preparing himself to lose you—
“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”
Sam’s whole body relaxes with a long-winded exhale. Had he been holding his breath?
“Did you think I was going to say no?”
“Honestly…I was kind of expecting you to. How could I compare to the life—or lifetimes—you’ve lived traveling to new universes? How could I compare to the power you gain every time you cross over?” He looks away, shrugging. “There’s an infinite number of me out there. You could do this again in the next universe.”
You pull back, propping yourself up to look at him in the dark. He can see the faint outline of your face. You’re frowning.
“There’s only one of you that’s like you. I have never met another that comes close.”
“You’re just trying to flatter me.”
You take his chin in your hand, forcing him to face you and preventing him from turning away. “Out of infinite universes, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”
“What about the one in your original universe?”
“If I loved him, I wouldn’t have left.”
“Huh…so that means…?”
“Yes.” He can see you smile. “I choose you. I’m staying.”
He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Well, I guess first things first.”
You lean your forehead to his, he can hear the smile in your voice. “And what would that be?”
“I’m gonna marry you.”
68 notes · View notes
Text
First Time (Arthur Harrow x Reader)
Tumblr media
Requested by @sarasiadati-Hi can i ask for a fic harrow x reader (smut_romance_lemon) where its reader's first time and she is so afraid. But harrow take care of her and tickle her and her clit is her weakest spot . I love your writings😘 you are one out of ten😘😘
A/N-Finally another Arthur Harrow fanfic request all finished up. Sorry if I made you wait for this, but it was worth it trust me. As a heads up, I’m already in the process of making the next Character List so be on the lookout for an announcement/update. Also, I’m still playing catch up with other fanfic requests, so please be patient and give me time…
Other than that, please enjoy 🙂    
Oh, and thank you for the compliment. It means so much to me that others, including you, enjoy my writings 😘💕
Warnings: FULL BLOWN SMUT, fluff, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, some fingering, slight orgasm, slight nudity, and some language 
Citrus Scale: 🍋 (SMUT BELOW THE CUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!!)
W.C+: 2.3K
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’ve been with Arthur for two years now. Living happily together and doing everything together. Well, except for one thing. Neither of you had sex with one another. It was a topic that either of you have discussed about doing together as a couple. But there was one thing in the way of it. You were a virgin.
You’ve never had sex in your entire life. Never have you done it with anybody if you had been in a serious relationship. The only thing you’ve never thought of, until now.
It was nice and warm outside. The smell of Spring blew through the community living area, after it had got done raining. The Spring rain always had a lovely scent to it, even at night. You’ve opened the windows to your shared bedroom, as the rain slowed down a bit earlier. Little rain droplets plopping down onto the windowsill into little puddles of water.
 The white window curtains blew swiftly in the night time breeze. Dancing along with the Spring air. You sat on the bed, across from the window reading one of your books. The bedroom was quite spacious for you and Arthur. You had your things and Arthur had his.
 As you read, the breeze blew gently across your bare legs. You felt your skin prickle at the cool touch, making you shiver a bit. The only warmth you’ve had on was a baggy sweatshirt covering your entire upper body.  The other piece of clothing you have on was a pair of pantties. You wore this to bed every night whenever it was nice out.
After you turned a page in your book, the sound of tapping cut through the silence. But you knew what that sound was. It was the sound of Arthur’s cane. The sound of it grew closer and closer towards the doorway. 
The door to the bedroom creaked open as Arthur entered through the threshold. Closing your book now, you set it on the nightstand beside your side and turned to look over at Arthur.
Arthur looked graceful as ever. He turned to close and lock the door behind him, with his cane in the other hand. Looking over his shoulder, a smile spread across his lips and looked over you with his beautiful blue eyes. They glowed ever so brightly in the light.
“(Y/N),” he whispered, “you look so beautiful tonight.” He said, as he started to walk over to the bed. The tapping of the cane resumed on the stone tile floor.
“As ever,” you said back in a chipper tone. Arthur chuckled at the remark, “yes as ever.” He lowered himself and sat on the soft bed at last. Arthur hung his cane on the edge of the bedpost on the head board. Then he took off his sandals and placed them near his nightstand.
He turned himself over and laid on his side to face you. You could feel your heart fluttering, as Arthur looked upon you with his hungry eyes. “You look very stunning sitting like that next to me,” he breathed out. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment.
Then he slowly moved his hands over towards you, grabbing a hold of both of your sides, and pulled you over to him. You felt his fingers grip onto the cloth of your sweatshirt and feel the sheets beneath you glide against your bare skin.
You giggled and squealed a bit as he pulled you closer and closer to him. Finally within his grasp, Arthur started peppering your face and neck with a bunch of kisses. His lips ghosting your soft skin each time they left. It felt like he was devouring you with his love.
Squirming beneath his grasp, you couldn’t contain your playful and delighted giggles. Arthur lightly chuckled as continued to kiss you. After a few moments, he placed one final kiss on your soft and tender lips.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, “I couldn’t help but kiss you when I saw you just laying there. Always makes me smile, you know that,” he said as he ran his hand through your soft (H/C) hair. You loved it whenever Arthur played with your hair. Feeling his fingers run through the strands.
Your eyes fluttered, as his slender fingers entangled and wrapped themselves around the strands. “Oh (Y/N), you’re so beautiful. You and me, we belong together,” he said as he placed another kiss on your forehead. Arthur was right. The both of you belong to one another together.
“(Y/N),” he said, but with a normal tone, “I would like to try something new tonight with you.” You arched a brow at him and sat up against the headboard. Arthur removed his arms from you and returned them to his sides. “What would that be Arthur,” you asked with a curious tone.
It took him a few moments to think over what he was going to say to you. He was biting the edge of his lower lip and then licked them with his tongue. “We’ve been together for two years (Y/N). I think it’s time to try something new.”
“Like what exactly Arthur,” you asked, as you crossed your arms. Arthur continued to think for another moment. Whatever it was, he was being careful with what words to say to you. Arthur took several deep breaths at a time.
“(Y/N),” he said in a soft tone, “I want to have sexual intercourse with you.” 
You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He finally said it. Arthur wants to have sexual intercourse with you now. You were fearing this would happen one day. You sat up quickly in surprise.
“Sexual intercourse,” you said in a surprised tone. You started fiddling with your fingers as your heart began racing inside your chest. “I-I-I don’t kn-kn-kn-know Arthur,” you began to stutter, “do you think it’s a good idea?” Asking him in a panicked calm manner.
He tilted his head to the side, looking a little confused by your answer. “What do you mean by that (Y/N),” he asked, pushing himself closer to you. Feeling very confused, you raced through your mind to find the right answer to that question, but nothing came out of your lips.
“It’s okay, you can tell me what it is.” He said in a softer tone. After several moments of thinking it over, you found what you were going to say. “Arthur,” you said slowly, “I’ve never had sex before.”
Arthur’s eyes widened with surprise from what you said. “You’ve never had sex before,” laughing a bit after asking you that question. You shook your head no. “Not once. Not with one person.”
Arthur still looked stunned at you. Flabbergasted more like it. He tried to laugh it off for a moment, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand. You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. “You don’t love me, do you Arthur,” you asked in a low voice, rolling over onto your side. Facing away from Arthur.
“No no no no no no no no, I didn’t say that,” Arthur defended his reaction, “I’m just shocked that’s all. I just didn’t know that about you.” He placed his hand on your shoulder. Reassuring you that he did nothing wrong to hurt your feelings.
You turned back over towards him, looking into his gentle blue eyes. “You mean it?” Asking him softly. He nodded his head, “Yes. I mean it.” Sitting back up against the headboard, you continued to gaze softly into his eyes.
“(Y/N). I’d like to try something with you.” You arched an eyebrow at him. “What is it Arthur?” Asking him in a much calmer manner than the first time. “Since you’ve never had sex before, I want to give you a headstart experience.” He began to motion you towards the middle of the bed.
“Arthur, what are you doing?” You asked in a curious voice. He began to softly shush you, “don’t worry my dear (Y/N), I’m going to be very gentle with you.”
You felt his hands rub up and down your bare legs, making you shiver beneath his delightful touch. Then you felt his hands go up to your hips, slipping his fingers beneath your pantties. Slowly, he began to pull them down your legs with his slender fingers. 
The soft material glides across your skin, making your heart race a bit. Arthur was being careful with pulling down your pantties. Slipping them off over your feet carefully, Arthur held them by the edge and then tossed them over to the side of the bed.
His hands then began to trail back up over your legs, towards your thighs. Feeling his fingers moving around in circles against your cold skin. A sensation runs rampant through your veins, rushing towards your head.
You let a soft gasp as his hands and fingers moved around on your thighs. “You like that don’t you,” Arthur asked with a smile on his lips. You slowly nodded your head and whispered yes to him. He let out a light hearted chuckle.
Then he moved his hands towards your inner thighs. “Please hold still. This won’t hurt a bit,” he said as he started to move your legs apart slowly. Gently pushing them apart and spreading them out on the bed. The warmth of his hands sent another sensation across your body, pressing them against the soft flesh.
“My my. What a pretty thing we have here,” he said in amazement. Slowly, his right hand crawled towards your upper, inner thigh where your clit was. Once he stopped there, he started moving his two fingers around in small circles. Sorta tickling you in a way.
A small laugh escaped from your lips, making it tingle you almost. “You like that my dear,” Arthur asked in a curious manner, tilting his head to the side. “Yes. I do,” you said with a bright smile, “I’m very ticklish. Even down there.”
“Ticklish? I’ve had no idea,” he said with a devious smile. Still, he continued to move his fingers in circles on your clit. Making you laugh and gasp at the same time. “Let’s take this up a notch, shall we,” he said with a serious tone.
Moving his fingers away from your soft clit, he brushed them over your slick and wet folds. Another shiver went down your back, as you felt the tip of his fingers hovering above your opening. Making little circles around your soft area. Then, he started to slowly push his two fingers inside of you. Placing his other hand softly on your other thigh for a better grip.
A moan escaped from your lips, as his fingers began pumping in and out in a slow movement. You gripped onto the bedsheets with both hands, digging your fingers deep into the silk cloth. 
“You’re loving this. I can see it,” he said in a playful tone. You nodded your head, as another moan came out. “Fuck.” You said in a low, soft tone. Arthur continued to push his two fingers deeper into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said repeataly under your breath. 
What was this sensation you were feeling? You felt your face flush and eyes fluttering. Heart racing like a running rabbit. Hands continued to grip onto the sheets.
“Alright my dear. Let’s try something you’ll really enjoy,” he said as he pulled his two fingers out. An emptiness filled you once his fingers left your slick folds. Like a hole caving into your empty stomach. You were very breathless. Breathing in and out slow and fast at times.
Lifting your head up from the headboard, Arthur got onto his knees and began to pull his pants down. As he did, another gasp came out of your lips. Once they were pulled down, you saw something graceful. His cock.
It was a normal length, but looked a bit bigger and longer. His cock rested between his two legs and upon neatly trimmed hair. 
Arthur’s pants dropped down to his knees and slowly slid out of them. He then threw them off to the side of the bed where your panties landed. Your heart began pounding much faster, as you looked upon his naked lower form.
Grabbing a hold of your legs again, he slowly pulled you down towards him. You felt the sheets slide against your bare skin. Your entire body going limp, as you laid beneath him now. “Now hold still my dear, I won’t hurt you.” Arthur said, as he lowered himself onto you.
First, you felt the tip of his cock brush up against your slick folds and then he thrust it into you. A loud and deep moan came out of you at last. Pushing deeper and deeper inside your opening. Arthur let out a soft groan from his thin lips, making another push into you.
Both your hands lost their grip on the bedsheets and became numb. Then lifting them up, you wrapped both arms around Arthur’s thick waist. Locking them with your still numb hands.
Another loud moan came out as Arthur thrusts into you again. “That’s right. Take it in slowly my dear (Y/N).” He whispered in your ear. A fiery sensation burned through your entire body. But what was it though? This made you breathless thinking about it. Your heart was racing faster than ever. It felt like a bird trying to escape from a cage that won’t unlock or open up.
Still, having this moment with your love Arthur, made it more special for you in every way. Having sexual intercourse for the first time with him made you dizzy and amazed at the same time. Everything felt great for you now. You weren’t afraid anymore.
Having this very special moment with Arthur made everything lighter for you to feel with your whole body. Every single nerve made you tired, but you’ve still got some energy left for the rest of the night. 
You want to feel more from Arthur. Now you’ve had something special happen with you and it was with somebody you’ll love for eternity for teaching you this moment in life and in your everlasting relationship.
23 notes · View notes
vajazzly · 4 months
Text
day 1: cooking together
kicking off good godfather sirius black fest with a raging new years hangover (the way sirius wouldve wanted) and some post-war sirius lives family feelings !!! @goodgodfathersiriusblack
one month after the battle of hogwarts, islington
When Sirius wakes up, it’s to the smell of bacon.
The Order has finally cleared out of Grimmauld Place, only Harry (and, occasionally, Ron and Hermione) remaining; today it’s just his godson in the house, he remembers. Last night, Harry woke up screaming twice. 
They’re holding it together, or something close to it.
He descends the stairs in his favorite robe, and the smell only gets stronger as he makes his way to the kitchen, vanilla and bacon and coffee. When he finally makes it to the kitchen Harry is standing at the stove, barefoot in his baggy muggle pajamas, the wireless on the counter turned down low, the weather report barely audible over the sizzling of no fewer than three pans.
“If I knew we were having company I’d have put on something more suitable,” Sirius says lightly, taking in the state of the kitchen table; there’s a quiche, and a stack of pancakes so tall it threatens to topple over, and fucking croissants - even when he was a boy he doesn’t think he ever saw a breakfast quite as elaborate as this in this kitchen.
“Sirius!” Harry says, turning around with a wide smile - there are shadows under his eyes, deeper than yesterday (though Sirius didn’t think it possible), and his hair’s even more of a mess than usual. “No company, I just, er…” he seems to take in the spread before him for the first time in its entirety, “Well, I’m tops at breakfast, so I figured I’d put something together. Sit down, bacon’s almost ready, and -”
“Why don’t you let me take over for a bit, hm?” Sirius says, as gently as he can manage. There’s a mostly empty mug of coffee on the counter, and he’d wager it’s not the first. He slides in next to his godson and plucks the spatula from his hand before he can protest.
“But-”
“No buts!”
“I was gonna-”
“Eat some of those croissants? I think that’s an excellent idea!”
Harry glares, and huffs, but eventually swipes his coffee off the counter and sits himself at the table; Sirius lets himself smile when he hears the tell-tale crunching of one of the croissants. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, keeping his tone light, casual.
There’s a pause while Harry chews, then another pause. “Not really.”
“Your mum used to bake when she was stressed,” Sirius says, flipping the bacon. It’s crispier than he likes, but he knows Harry likes his pieces a bit black on the edges. “I never left your parent’s place without about ten tupperwares filled with biscuits and cakes and things during the war - used to give half of it to the old lady next door and pass it off as my own so she wouldn’t file any noise complaints!”
Harry laughs, but is otherwise silent, like he always is when Sirius talks about his parents - like he’s trying to soak up every detail.
“The recipe book was lost with the rest of the house, I’m afraid, but she showed me how to make a few things,” he says. Memories, soft, yellow-tinted slices of the happier moments of his life before Azkaban, are starting to filter back, come into focus. “After we figure out what to do with all of this I can show you, if you like.”
Harry’s smile is wide and sincere, eyes shining. “I’d like that a lot.”
40 notes · View notes