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#when I am told I am less than three
lillianforest22 · 2 years
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After watching enough streams with tt on I do not see <3 as a heart. If somone irl told me less than three I would go oh thanks you so much.
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heartual · 1 month
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had such a good experience with surgery today i can’t even fully explain
#🍄.txt#i’m so happy that fuck ass doctor referred me to another doctor in the building because he was so nice and attentive#taking the time to explain things to me and make sure i was good#even said oh well if ur really uncomfortable we can always go to the operating room! :)#when the other doctor treated me like a nuisance the whole time and like some dumb child#well if you can’t sit still they’re going to have to put you under elsewhere 🙄#I DIDNT EVEN FUCKING KNOW THEY COULD DO THAT IN THE BUILDING? SHE MADE IT SEEM LIKE I WAS INCONVENIENCING HER THE WHOLE TIME#i was asking a bunch of questions because knowing makes me feel less nervous and he answered everything so clearly even when my mom was#asking questions too#recommending me different medications to keep this from happening again etc etc etc#so fucking bare minimum for a doctor but it was so nice seriously i wish i could thank him again for making it a more#comfortable experience#he put numbing shots on the inside AND outside of my lid just in case we needed to go from the outside this time#and while it hurt obviously it was so much better than the single shot she gave me the first time three weeks ago#she told me this would be a much more extensive surgery and here i am with my eyelid barely swollen 😐#i could barely see with it open three weeks ago immediately after because it hurt too much and was so swollen#what the fuck how do you have such contrasting experiences with two people who literally work together in the same building#anyway bad doctor experiences are always so fucking bad but when you have a really good experience it just feels crazy and insane#like wow thank u for treating me like a person#did i mention i actually left with care instructions this time written out. and the medicine recommendations on a physical piece of paper#i didn’t even get that after surgery with her how is that not below bare minimum#like this actually surprised me. jesus christ
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valiantarcher · 1 year
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Shocked and scandalised a coworker by admitting I read something as common and vulgar as a murder mystery.
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fragmentedblade · 9 months
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Also, Ruan Mei was the one who lent the Phase Flame to Ratio, wasn't she?
#That Ratio and her were working together seemed to be the case since we first found him but idk#Ruan Mei plays dumb when we ask about him but I thought it was clear that she did know him#Herta also pretends she doesn't know him for some reason#cringefail acquaintance#Jokes aside I wonder why they did that. Is it because they both are ehm working behind each other's back#(Herta when it comes to the IPC‚ the SU and the bet‚ Ruan Mei kind of with everything)‚ or is it due to some other more complex reason?#Based on we've seen thus far I do think Ratio and Ruan Mei were working together in something#and that she was in the known of at least some things. Perhaps not everything#She seems to care about things beyond her research even less than Herta does#But given what we're told it seems fair to conclude the fire Ratio had was given to him by Ruan Mei#Herta said Ruan Mei needed it for some research. So either she didn't need it anymore and didn't mind giving it to Ratio afterwards#or maybe what Ratio was doing was something she was a part of. Or did Ratio steal it when he was around the seclusion zone?#I'm not inclined to think that tbh it seems to me Ruan Mei must have been knowingly implied. Yet now she owes Herta a favour#Which is more valuable according to Herta. This quest has left me very curious about the development of all this#Screwllum suspected Ratio since the beginning. I wonder if he suspects Ruan Mei too#Ruan Mei's line about Screwllum makes it seem like they don't get along too well I think. I have so many questions xD#I am very curious about all this‚ satisfied and potentially excited. Not yet excited but I sure have hopes for an exciting development haha#Maybe it will all end up being nothing but the relationships between the characters in the Genius Society (especially these three)#seems kind of messy and that intrigues me. The relationship the three of them have with Ratio seems intriguing too#Any iteration of these dynamics seems to be very interesting#Maybe it will all end up being nothing or I may be misreading or seeing more than there is but I am looking forwards to knowing more#I talk too much#Traces
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machidielontheway · 9 months
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was excited to finally finish sorting out my clothes to give and then a friend told me what actually happens to more than 50% of given clothes [in specific container then managed by associations / caritative companies] that are not actually given to people in need or sold in caritative second-hand shop or fiber-recyclated : they are sold to other companies and most ends up fucking up Africa / Ghana in many ways :(
and so now i'm frozen again in a "so you had planned to easily put it in a container. now what do i do"
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batshit-auspol · 9 months
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I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.
2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.
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Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.
"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."
24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.
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Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".
Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."
Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.
While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.
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At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.
Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.
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The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.
The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.
Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.
Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.
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This time at least, they were not let in.
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fulokis · 1 year
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I got added to a book group and I’m not sure why, like I struggle so badly with reading it’s not funny. Maybe it’s cause I write but like even then it’s not original shit it’s just piggybacking on other stuff and I haven’t posted any of it in ages
#I’m confused#like I like feeling included and shit but like also I don’t understand what possessed them to add me#I kinda wonder if it was their our friend and we don’t want to keep secrets sorta thing#which is nice and all but like I’m totally okay with not being in it#also it’s some people I’ve never talked to so like it’s exhausting enough having met a new online friend this week much less three#idk i might lurk but I honestly am confused by the social interaction#also I typed she for myself and I wanted to throw my phone#it’s cause they don’t know I’m nb and I’m not sure they’d understand#also I find it so much easier to get along with guys than girls so like there’s that#and the more I think about this paired with the videos on autism I was watching today the more it seems likely#I just still hesitate to self diagnose because of past experiences self diagnosing with depression and anxiety#like I was literally told if it’s not by a doctor it’s not valid by my then best friend#just for the bitch years latter to come to me and say I understand what you meant about the depression#my best friend now tho when I brought up the possibility of autism was like yeah I can see it#although her adhd ass still gets annoyed when I’m too low energy to even socialize with her#I really need to find a therapist but first a doctor because I’m about to run out of meds#like technically a psychiatrist would be able to do that too but it was originally my doctor who did so that’s going to be less painful#that is if I can figure that shit out#all I know is it won’t before my meds run out
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thetriumphantpanda · 14 days
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you'll just have to taste me | joel miller
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Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 1.7K
Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.
Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.
Divider by @saradika
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.
You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.
It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.
But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.
“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.
He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.
“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”
You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.
“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.
“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”
He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.
“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”
“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”
“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”
“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.
“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”
He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.
You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.
“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”
You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.
“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.
“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”
“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”
He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.
“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”
“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”
And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.
He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.
You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.
Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.
“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”
He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.
“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.
“Terrible, really.” He responds.
“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”
“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”
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bluebellhairpin · 2 months
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Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader
Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)
Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).
Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."
Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link
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Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north. 
Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay. 
For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less. 
With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too. 
“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”
“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.” 
“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach. 
“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?” 
“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.” 
Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone. 
“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”
“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.” 
“I may not want to rest.”
“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.” 
“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”
He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal. 
“I might not be leaving you completely alone.” 
“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow. 
“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”
“-I? Forcing your hand?”
“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”
“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers. 
Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back. 
Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over. 
“What is that?” you asked. 
“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed. 
It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be? 
“A direwolf?” 
“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.” 
While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good. 
“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.” 
“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.” 
His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was. 
“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”
“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”
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Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do. 
The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker. 
He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried. 
Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close. 
Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake. 
Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned. 
It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere. 
You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge. 
He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive. 
Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.
The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds. 
The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless. 
The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.
“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder. 
Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling. 
“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease. 
The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned. 
You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck. 
“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears. 
“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.” 
You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was. 
You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.
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A week later, Cregan returned. 
You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour. 
So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach. 
You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand. 
“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms. 
“Indeed he will.” Cregan said. 
“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway. 
“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug. 
“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?” 
“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.” 
“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.” 
“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.” 
Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his. 
“I love you.” he said. 
“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek. 
“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”
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roanofarcc · 2 months
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A MISJUDGMENT
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pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader
summary. when kate drags you back to the home for a one-week stint to help out one of her old friends, you meet tyler owens. the uncouth cowboy and his reckless actions when dealing with something as dangerous as tornados almost instantly prick your nerves until you realize maybe there's more to the cowboy than meets the eye.
warnings. description of tornados, a curse word or two, slightly inaccurate meteorological info, reader is from the midwest.
word count. 2k || masterlist
a.n. did not expect my other fic to get so much love!! sending kisses to everyone who sent me such nice words <3 and I am having a ball with all of the wonderful requests I'm getting!!
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The difference between the Oklahoma and New York was more jarring than you remembered. The wide-open skies and fields that stretched for miles were a distantly familiar sight as you stepped out of the truck. You had grown up in the Midwest, smack dab in the middle of tornado alley, which meant your youth was spent listening to your cautious mother warn you every tornado season of the dangers the storms posed so you’d always be prepared when worst came to worst. You’d hunkered down more time than you could count in your storm cellar, listening to doors rattling and the radio speak. Your father was less cautious; he enjoyed watching the storms roll in on the front porch as he listened to the distant hum of sirens. 
You’d never been a fan of storms, not like your father. They made you nervous; the unpredictably and devastating destruction wasn’t something you found fascinating enough to chase.
Moving to New York was a culture shock but you were lucky enough to score to a job working in tandem with someone who also grew up in tornado alley. You and Kate quickly became friends, bonding over your upbringing and knowledge of the weather. She had opened up to you about her storm-chasing days, all ending with the tragedy that took the lives of three people she loved. Her story only cemented your opinion of storm chasing; it was too risky. But she had suckered you in with your love for the science behind weather, and the next thing you know you were in Oklahoma with Kate and a friend of hers on a one-week mission.
You stuck back with the team in charge of reading the data the chasers collected. Your apprehension wasn’t thwarted by Kate’s reassurance, but you’d always known her to be smart and she knew those storms better than anyone. Your distaste for storm chasers was not because of those there for the science of it all, but rather those who did it for the thrill. 
Tyler Owens was exactly the kind of person you expected to drive into tornados with no regard for the danger. What he was doing, from what you gathered from Javi’s brief explanation, was for entertainment and the excitement of facing down peril, laughing in the face of it. 
You stretched in the nighttime air as Kate closed the truck door behind her and turned to you with the same unsure smile she’d been carrying around since you arrived in Oklahoma. You could tell her feelings were mixed about being back there, but you also saw the spark of enjoyment she was slowly relighting. 
“I’ll go check us in,” Kate said, gesturing to the front office of the motel before she took off. You leaned against the side of Javi’s truck, yawning and taking in the scene of more storm chasers lounging around the motel’s lot, enjoying each other’s company as you all waited for another storm to pop up amidst the outbreak. 
The sound of boots under gravel approached you, belonging to none other than Tyler Owens himself. “How ‘ya holding up, city girl?” he said. 
He introduced himself to you and Kate when you first arrived with Javi, meeting his team and the other groups of chasers who were all gunning after the same storm. She had told him the two of you were in from New York for the week, and he assumed that meant you both were born and raised there. Maybe you had lost your Midwest twang during your stay, but no matter how far you moved away, a piece of you would always remain there. 
“Just fine, thank you,” you replied. His team had set up not far from where you two stood; they all seemed busy working on their equipment, but their work was often cut by howls of laughter. They seemed to be enjoying themselves more than Javi’s team was. They’d all split up into separate rooms for the night, so they’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning. 
He rested his arm against the bed of the truck, making himself comfortable as he too looked out across the lot at the people. “I’ve always wanted to visit New York City,” he said, surprising you. That seemed like the last place someone like him wanted to go. “What’s it like?” 
You shrugged. “A lot different than this.” You looked upwards at the sky, seeing stars blinking back at you. The skies were never that dark in New York City, but the towering buildings made for a cool scene too. “I haven’t lived there too long, though. I’m still figuring it out.” You were still trying to gauge if you liked it more than home. You liked the hustle and bustle most of the time, but being back under starry skies and open plains, you had to admit you missed it a little. 
“Really?” he furrowed his brows. “Where’d you move from?” 
“Kansas.” 
He smiled in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. City girl’s not actually a city girl after all.” 
“I’m full of surprises.” 
“I’m seein’ that.” Tyler was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you miss it?” 
You weren’t sure why he asked or why he seemed to care, but you answered regardless. “Sometimes. Not so much the storms though.” 
He laughed. “Yet, you’re out here storm chasing anyway?” 
“I’m just here to help my friend; their business is to help people. That kind of storm chasing I can get behind, I guess. Yours on the other hand…” You trailed off, and he scoffed in mock offense. 
“My kind of business is to face my fears.” 
It was your turn to scoff. “By putting yourself and your friends in danger for…what, exactly? Your internet audience? I know plenty of people like you from back home. You’re reckless and irresponsible.” You saw Kate waving you down by the stairs of the motel, flashing a set of room keys in the air. You said nothing more to Tyler, didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself, before you walked off and into your room for the night
You’d seen devastation before following a tornado, but it was still a harrowing sight. Homes flattened, family belongings flung miles away, and people left hurt in the ruins of their town. You, Kate, and all of Javi’s team arrived just as the storm subsided and the damage was fresh as wounds many of the townspeople bared. You wasted no time going around to help people; Kate did the same. 
An old woman sat in her front yard, carefully cradling windchimes in her arms. “Are you all right?” you asked, kneeling down in the wet grass in front of her. She looked up slightly startled but smiled kindly as she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m just fine, dear, thank you.” 
“Here you go, Ms. Riley,” a familiar voice sounded from behind you. You turned your head just as Tyler appeared, holding a small box in one hand and a little kitten in the other. The woman, Ms. Riley, gasped and sat her windchimes back on the grass. She took the kitten, teary-eyed, as it purred. “There’s food there too. Make sure you eat, and if you need more my team’s got a table set up just down the road, all right?” 
“Thank you,” she said. 
Tyler said nothing to you as he began to walk away, but you followed him, not catching up with him until he was at a little table surrounded by his team. They had a stack of brown boxes they were handing out, filled with sandwiches one of the members was making quickly. They also handed out bottles of water to the line of people who had just been affected by the storm. 
One of his team members smiled at you, holding out a box of food. “You hungry?” they asked, but you shook your head. 
“No. These people need it, but thanks.” 
You weren’t sure for a moment that Tyler was going to say a word to you. You hadn’t left your last conversation on the nicest note, only to find him and his team working hard to help the ravaged neighborhood. 
But he turned toward you for a moment, looking a little conflicted. “At least take a water,” he said before looking at another member of his team. “Lily, can you take some boxes up the road? There’re  some people who can make it all the way down here.” She nodded, filling her arms with the boxes before she took off.
You were quiet for a moment, staring at Tyler as he and his team came up with a plan to help and feed as many people as they could before night fell. You felt a complicated set of feelings topple over you. And as Tyler started to walk away, you surged forward and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around. 
“What can I do to help?” 
Together, you and Tyler spent the rest of the afternoon helping members of the neighborhood find their lost belongings and connected anyone with injuries to the EMTs working overtime. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you took a break, finding a blown-away lawn chair that was still usable to sit on. All day you had eaten your judgment and first impression of Tyler and his team. Maybe they all were reckless and a little irresponsible in their storm-chasing, but they were doing just as Kate was, helping people, just differently. He and his team apparently did that often and were some of the first responders to the damage the tornados they chased caused. You had overheard Lily tell Kate they used the money from their t-shirt sales to buy food for victims of the storm. 
“Hey,” Tyler greeted, approaching you with two boxes of food. “Here.” He handed onto to you before he found a seat and pulled it up beside you. 
You thanked him before the two of you ate in silence for a little while. Some of the debris had been picked up, but the wrecked houses haunted the street. You’d been lucky enough to never lose your home turning a storm, but you knew too many people who had. It was terrible. That was why you had gotten a metrology degree. You had witnessed the devastation storms brought and even though you were trapped behind a computer most days, your goal was to help improve warning systems for all kinds of disasters and ensure that people knew the best way to prepare for them, but it wasn’t foolproof. Sometimes all there was to do was help pick up the pieces in the wake. 
“I think I misjudged you,” you said, breaking the silence. 
“Yeah?” He smiled slightly, his face warmly illuminated by the ironically beautiful sunset. “Are you taking back the reckless and irresponsible comment?” 
“No.” You smiled too. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. You guys did a good thing here, helping these people.” 
Maybe there was more to him than you had originally believed. 
“It’s all a part of the job,” he said, a bit too casually for all of the work they actually did to help; one could say he was humble about it, which confused you even more. From the second he climbed out of his truck the first time you saw him, you were so sure you knew exactly the kind of guy he was. 
“You aren’t exactly how I expected you to do,” you said, honestly. 
He seemed to take that in stride, smirking at you bright enough to bring heat to your face. “Well, if you stick around, you might even get to like me.” 
You laughed. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.” But you had a feeling he right be right. The week wasn’t over yet; you still had time to figure out exactly who Tyler Owens was. 
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always-coffee · 4 months
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In case you need to hear it today...
Earlier today on Bluesky, I wrote about how—and I firmly believe this—no one is hard to love. That, if someone makes you feel that way, it’s entirely on them. And that love—in its myriad forms—never judges us by the small quirks and details of our less polished selves.
This is 100% the hill I will die on.
The thing is, I’ve often been told I am too much. I have too many feelings. (Like, you can just…remove some of them?) This used to bother me, until I realized that was someone else’s hangup. The reality is I have a very big heart and I am not shy about letting someone I know I care about them.
Why? Several reasons. One is that I am always true to myself, and I don’t believe in playing it cool. Another is that the world is a harsh mess, quite literally often on fire. It’s the warmth and love and the connection that help us through. And if a kind, honest word or gesture might matter to someone, I’m gonna do it. No hesitation.
I have also been the person who didn’t know how someone else felt, and that didn’t feel great. (Understatement.) And I never, ever want anyone else to feel that kind of awful confusion. Because by the time I did find out, it almost broke me. (Almost! I’m very stubborn.) So, if it’s within my power, no one else is gonna go through that.
Back to the beginning: no one is hard to love. Are we mutuals? Do we chat? I can rattle off at least three things I love about you, if asked. Hell, even if you don’t ask, I might randomly tell you anyway. Because ninja compliments make everyone smile!
I am always deeply happy when I get to show my affection for someone. It makes my heart happy. And the reverse is true, too: I am deeply happy to be cared about. It’s affirming. And yes, it also quiets the voices in my head that pop up, from time to time.
You are, right now, more loved than you probably know. So, consider this a reminder, from a weird little witch woman shouting on the internet.
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AITAH for telling my wife no?
My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.
Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.
Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.
A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.
Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.
I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.
When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.
She told my parents the promotion included relocation.
I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.
What are these acronyms?
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lundenloves · 1 year
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dad!simon masterlist | taglist | masterlist | request info
dad!simon who will near fall asleep on the sofa, sat upright with wide legs and his arms crossed, only opening one eye to pretend he’s listening while one of his daughters rambles about school drama.
dad!simon who scoffs when another monthly subscription or amazon payment goes through his card, brows knitted together after asking just why the house has to be subscribed to four separate streaming services.
dad!simon who never remembers his kids’ friends names. it could be his daughters best friend of seven years and he still wouldn’t remember.
dad!simon who visually could not care less about the gossip his daughter waffles about, mumbling “mhm” every so often to appear engaged though shrugging when called out on his evident boredom.
dad!simon who tsks at all the parcels that come through the door day-to-day. living with three daughters and a wife, it’s constant. he detests being the only one home and having to sign for something — will actively ignore a knock on the door when there’s other people in the house.
dad!simon who (when drunk) is the height of amusement for his eldest. many snapchats exist of him being handed the phone already recording and goofily grinning into it while looking up at her “what am i supposed to be looking at?”
dad!simon who sticks post-it notes in bold handwriting to the fridge whenever anyone has an appointment due the following day. “don’t forget.” complete with a fullstop and a harsh underline of the time in military digits.
dad!simon who replies sarcastically to almost every obvious question with his natural glare, something each of his kids had genetically taken: “don’t ask stupid questions and you won’t get stupid answers.” he loves them really.
dad!simon who silenced the family groupchat as soon as he had figured out how to, only replying every other day with a thumbs up reaction or more likely a thumbs down.
dad!simon who side eyes his kids. he doesn’t mean it, yet it happens. watching throw away tv? side eye. talking too loud on the phone? side eye. wearing a questionable outfit? side eye.
dad!simon who has a firm routine. he fucking detests being interrupted, and or spoken to from the hours of five till seven in the morning. he’ll get up, have food and go to the gym all in this time frame before anyone can dent his peace.
dad!simon who sighs avidly. a long and painful sigh after any merely simple question is asked or he’s to pick up one of his kids from a night out. “fucking well told ‘er not to expect me past twelve.” while accidentally slamming the door behind him, keys jingling around his finger.
dad!simon who struggles to show affection in any other way than a short pat of the shoulder or a one armed hug, pulling his kids into his chest for mere seconds before stepping back.
dad!simon who groans whenever anything gets moved in the house. his military mind in favour of keeping things in one position, untouched and moved for preferably ever unless he was told. though, having kids didn’t quite work like that.
dad!simon who: “do i ‘av to do fucking everything in this house? eh?”
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simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob
˗ˏˋ university is still kicking my arse into next week. i joined the football team too, fuck knows why i’m making myself busier than i have to be. alas here we are, and i’m feeding the pigeons! aka sprinkling dad headcannons until i get traction again. pls love me, pls follow me, pls reblog, pls validate me.
the reason i tag this as ‘x reader’ as it’s ur fuckin family with him. no one bite my head off man i can’t be bothered tonight.
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hirukochan · 1 year
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Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut
Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.
Severus and his sunshine
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Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader
warnings: Smut, loss of virginity
Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)
Read on Ao3 or below the cut:
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“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 
It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!
“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.
“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”
“You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.
You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 
Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 
One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.
This you can’t seem to figure out. 
He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 
Emotions are not Severus’ thing.
His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.
He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.
You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 
“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”
“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 
He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 
Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.
But not in a bad way.
He looks good. 
Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.
His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.
So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 
You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.
Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.
Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.
You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.
You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 
You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.
Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.
During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.
You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.
“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.
“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.
“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”
“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 
“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.
“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.
“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.
Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 
“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-
“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.
“As I said - I am here with someone.”
“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”
“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.
That’s right.
Severus is different.
He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.
“Let’s leave, Sev.” 
“Come on, gorgeous!”
“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”
“Sev.”
“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”
“She does not need you for that-”
“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 
The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!
Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.
“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.
“Mh.”
“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”
“Drop it.”
“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”
“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”
“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.
“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”
“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.
“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.
“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”
“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”
“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.
“He made you cry!”
“Why does it matter?!”
“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 
Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.
“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.
“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”
“I thought you’re tired.”
“Say it.”
“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.
“You sound like a spoiled child.”
“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”
“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.
“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 
“Black’s a bastard-”
“This is Warren all over again!”
“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.
“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”
“I-”
“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 
You have always been Severus’ safespace. 
He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 
Why can’t he tell you this?
Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 
You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.
You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.
“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”
“Sunshine-”
“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 
Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 
“I love you.”
You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 
Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.
“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 
You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 
And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-
“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”
“You love me?”
“I love you.”
“I thought you love Lily.”
“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”
Severus loves you.
Has loved you for years.
Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.
Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.
Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 
As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 
You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.
Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.
Everything is good.
“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 
He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.
“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.
He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?
“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.
“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.
Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.
The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.
“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.
“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”
“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”
“You’re here…”
“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.
“Warren-?”
“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.
“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.
“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”
“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”
“Me?”
“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”
“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.
“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 
He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.
You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.
“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.
“Severus-”
“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”
“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.
“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”
“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.
“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”
“It will.”
“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.
“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 
You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.
You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.
“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.
“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.
He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.
“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.
Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.
He loves you.
You still can’t believe it. 
“Sev!”
“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.
“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 
“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.
He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.
“Sunshine-”
“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.
“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.
When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.
But he’ll never lose you.
You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”
“It’s your first time I will not-”
“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”
“Sun-”
“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”
The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.
“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 
Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.
“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.
“Sorry-”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.
Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 
It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 
Severus is not good with words.
But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.
“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.
To you he is worth it.
He always was and will always be.
You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.
“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.
He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.
“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”
“Sev-”
“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 
You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.
Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.
“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.
“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.
“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.
“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”
“Hmm…very metal.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Why’d you get it then?”
“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.
“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”
“Idiot.” You giggle.
“I’m going to cum-”
“Cum inside me.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.
His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.
“Severus!”
“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”
“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 
Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.
Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.
You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.
Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.
“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”
“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.
“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 
“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”
“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 
So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.
“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”
You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 
You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.
You send an owl to Dumbledore.
You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.
Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.
“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.
“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”
“Together?”
“Together. I love you, Severus.”
“I love you too, Sunshine.”
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Mr. Right Now Part 5 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: Jake can't pinpoint why he feels the need to make you understand that you're special. Or maybe he can, but he's too afraid to admit it to himself. You are completely out of your depth, but you know you'd rather drown with Jake than be with anyone else right now.
Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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Jake was surpassing all of your expectations. You were already three orgasms deep on the weekend, and you just met him less than a day ago. He was sweet and handsome, and right now he was kissing your lips softly on his couch as he held you tight. You couldn't help but smile against his mouth as the sticky coating of his cum spread from your tummy to his hard abs as you and he made out at a luxurious pace.
He was taking charge, but he never made you feel small or stupid for your lack of experience. He just didn't seem like that kind of person. And besides, you did manage to turn him on for the third time, and instead of letting him sneak away, you got him to stay put on the couch with you.
"Were you really going to try to jerk off alone again?" you asked as he kissed his way down the side of your neck.
"Mmhmm. You caught onto that, did you?" You felt his tongue trail along your skin before he said, "Wasn't about to make you feel obligated to take care of it for me in any way."
Okay, so Jake was kind of a gentleman. So much so that he still hadn't fucked you. And he still hadn't told you when he was planning to. The crazy thing was, you now understood that he could probably make you come a dozen other ways that didn't involve his cock at all. You were impressed. You were also a little sad that once you and he did get around to that little matter of eliminating the fact that you were still a virgin, you'd be on your way.
"Are you sore, Darlin'?" he asked, setting butterflies off in your belly. "I was a little rough with my fingers."
You moaned softly and tipped your head back. "It felt amazing. I liked it."
"I'm glad," he crooned. "But if you're sore, you could take a bath."
You perked up even more. A bath in his big tub sounded delightful, and once you started moving, you realized you were a bit more sore than you originally thought. "I want a bath," you told him, and you left a mess of his tacky cum on him when you stood up. You suddenly remembered you were completely naked and covered in his semen as you ducked your face away from him and muttered, "I wasn't sure what the texture was going to be like. It's really sticky all over me now."
Jake stood and pulled you close again. "Gets messier and harder to clean up when it starts to dry. But you didn't seem to mind me coating you up since it was your idea in the first place."
You pressed your lips together and muttered, "I never saw a guy come in real life before. I was curious. And it was so hot."
Something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes. "And then, to my surprise, you started playing with it," he added with a dangerous smirk, and you turned away from him in embarrassment, because maybe you weren't supposed to do that at all. "Do you hear me complaining?" he asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "That was some advanced level kinky stuff. Just wasn't expecting it. But I am not complaining. Let's get you in the bath."
Jake kept his arm around your waist as he led you back to his bedroom and then to the en suite bathroom where he cranked on the hot water before turning to look at you in all his naked glory. "I'm going to grab myself a beer for bathtime. Something about hot water and a cold beer is very satisfying, and maybe you can learn all about it after your next birthday. You want another crystal goblet of ice water?"
Your brow furrowed. "You're taking a bath with me?"
He raised one eyebrow and took a step away from you. "Unless you don't want me to."
Once again, you were surprised by him, but not disinterested in the idea of having him join you in the tub. "I want you to."
He half smiled in response. "And the goblet of ice water?"
"Yes, please," you told him with an eye roll. Then he was gone, and you were left with the soothing sound of the tub filling up while you went in search of a washcloth. You found some in the small closet just inside the bathroom door. Along with extra towels, razor blades, and a half empty box of extra large condoms.
Of course he would have them. He brought you home which meant he probably did the same thing every weekend. Maybe he even had more than one girl each weekend. One for Friday night and one for Saturday night. Maybe he'd fuck you and then offer to drive you home soon so he could go back to the bar tonight and find someone more his speed. Someone who knew that condoms came in different sizes.
You couldn't let yourself get jealous or sad, because there was no point in it. This was practically a business deal. Jake was helping you get ready for Cooper while he got his rocks off as many times as he wanted to. No more, no less.
"Here you go."
You startled a bit as Jake held out your wine glass filled with ice water, and he took a long sip from his bottle of Sam Adams. "Thanks," you whispered, and then he pressed his cold lips to your forehead before nodding at the tub.
"Get in and get comfy."
--------------------------------
Jake had never shared his bathtub with anyone. Soaking in the hot water until it was almost too cool to stand was one of his guilty pleasures that he never planned on letting someone else experience, too. He usually brought a beer in with him. One time he drank an entire bottle of champagne. But he always did it alone. Until today, apparently. Something about the way his cum was drying on your skin while you kissed him made him want to take the time to clean you up. And he also realized by how his wrist felt that he'd gone pretty hard with his fingers.
You looked too fucking cute with the steamy water up to your shoulders while you sipped from the condensation coated stemware. But you were quieter than you had been in the living room, which bothered him, because he had gotten used to your constant chattering and your smartass comments.
He slipped one foot into the hot water, and you scooted a little further forward. When he had both feet in, he eased himself down until he was sitting with you tucked between his legs. But you were facing away from him, so he couldn't see your face as he asked, "Is the temperature okay for you?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, sipping your ice water.
He leaned back against the tub and took another sip of beer, but you remained where you were. "You comfy?" he asked.
"Yes," you whispered, your back still to him.
"Well, I'm not," he said blandly.
"What's wrong?" you asked right away, turning to look at him over your shoulder, finally letting him see your pretty face.
"You're all the way over there." 
Jake reached for your hip under the water, wrapped his hand around you, and pulled you closer to him. Your eyes went wide, and you turned to brace your hand against his chest. Some of your cold drink splashed onto him, but he just muttered, "That's better," while you set the glass down on the edge of the tub.
"You could have just asked me to scoot closer."
Jake studied you and took another long sip of his beer before setting it down next to your glass. "You haven't complained once when I've touched you."
"I'm not complaining," you whispered, so he stroked your waist, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. "I'm just wondering when you're going to fuck me." 
He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him. "You're playing by my rules, remember?" he muttered.
"You don't have to be so sweet just for me." Jake's fingers froze on your body as you added, "Unless you're always like this? Making breakfast for your overnight guests? And cuddling in the bathtub? I guess that makes more sense."
But he wasn't always like this, and he wanted to tell you that. But he knew he didn't have the right to say anything at all when you really only needed him for one purpose. Once you got what you wanted from him, you'd be gone.
"Are you always this sweet?" you whispered, wet fingers wrapped around the back of his neck as you looked up at him through your lashes. 
He licked his lips and shook his head. "I don't think I've ever been quite this sweet before." When you finally smiled again, your eyes softened, and Jake kissed the bridge of your nose. "You might as well get comfortable, because I don't get out until the water's cold."
"Cold!" you complained as he held you tighter. "You expect me to stay here until it's cold?"
"Mmhmm." He took another sip of his beer. "And I expect you to tell me what kind of pizza you want for dinner, too. And why don't you tell me what you're studying in school while you're at it. And how you usually spend your weekends."
"I'm staying for dinner?"
Jake sighed and let his head tip back. "I don't think I can fuck you until I've taken you on a proper date. So... will you have dinner with me at my dining room table?"
"Yes."
-------------------------
A proper date. The words were bouncing around in your mind even as Jake stretched out on his couch in his gym shorts while you were almost completely on top of him, wearing his clothes. "You're wrong," you told him, shaking your head and pushing his hair off his forehead. "You have the wrong opinion about pineapple on pizza, and I refuse to believe I'm the first person who has ever told you so."
His hand on your butt flexed as he laughed. "Nobody else would dare. Except for you. Go ahead. Tell me what else I'm wrong about."
"Well," you said with a huff of pretend annoyance, "you ate your eggs sunny side up this morning. Wrong. And you didn't already have your bedroom window open to listen to the sound of the ocean last night. Wrong." You paused for a beat before saying what you'd been thinking about for a while. "I would say you're wrong about needing extra large condoms, but I did see and feel you, so maybe you do. Not wrong."
His deep laughter rumbled through his chest, and you jostled slightly on top of him. "You found my stash in the bathroom?" he asked, but he didn't sound annoyed.
"I was looking for a washcloth."
He hummed and asked, "How many condoms are left in the box? I haven't checked in a couple weeks."
"About half." You looked him in his pretty green eyes. "Does that mean you haven't had sex in a couple weeks? Or that you just haven't been using condoms?"
"I always use condoms," he replied immediately with a little nod, and you believed him. "Lesson seven: never skip a condom. Guys are pigs. Don't let them cut corners."
He kissed the corner of your mouth, but all you could say was, "So you haven't had sex in a little while?"
Jake nodded again. "Was getting a little sick of the bar crowd, to be honest. At least until you dropped your fake. Kicking tag chasers out of my bed in the middle of the night isn't much fun anymore."
"What's a tag chaser?" you asked, running your fingers through his soft hair.
His cheeks tinted with pink as he said, "Women who go after guys in the military. Some of them think it's fun to 'collect' tags. Some of them are hoping to trap a guy for the marriage benefits. Different reasons. Same name. And you absolutely can't let them spend the night with you."
You wanted to laugh, because this actually sounded like your roommate, Kylie. But then you remembered why you went to that particular bar in the first place and who you were originally looking for. Your eyes went wide. "Wait. Am I a tag chaser?"
Now he was hooting with laughter. "I don't know, Darlin'. Are you? That little leather skirt screamed yes, but your smart mouth and the fact that you didn't care that I was an aviator are telling me no."
You thought about it for another second and said, "I'm not one," while he laughed some more. "I couldn't be! You let me spend the night."
He reached for his phone as he said, "Yeah, well you're different, aren't you? I'm going to order this pizza."
"Okay," you whispered, letting your cheek rest on his chest as he tapped his screen and then held his phone to his ear. He was looking at you as he said, "Yeah, hi, a large pizza for delivery, please." He paused for a second and then said, "Toppings? Since I'm with a girl who has weird ideas about pineapple on pizza, just wait to hear how horrible this thing is going to sound. Are you ready?"
You were laughing with your face buried against his arm as he gave his address and credit card number, and when he hung up, you screeched, "Jake! You're ridiculous. And wrong! It's going to be the best pizza ever."
"Sure," he said sarcastically before sitting up with you on his lap. He nipped at your lip as he added, "It'll be about thirty minutes before it gets here, Darlin'. I think we have time to review some of your lessons if you feel like it."
A smile bloomed across your face as you asked, "Which lessons?"
"Whatever lessons you want."
----------------------------
You told Jake you wanted to review lessons two and three, and now you were naked on his couch with his face buried in your pussy and his hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs. Foreplay and oral sex were two things you clearly loved. He spent about ten minutes making out with you and hitting all the spots that left you dripping wet, and then he treated himself to a taste. 
"God damn," he growled, lapping at you as you tugged on his hair. Once again, you got him rock hard as goosebumps trailed down his neck. "Fuck."
"Jake," you whined until his mouth was back on your clit, and then you sighed contentedly. He knew he could get you off before the pizza arrived, and he also knew he'd be amped up for you later. He was excited. You excited him. He wanted to be so good.
"Jake!" You came apart on his tongue, rolling your hips up for more pressure. He rewarded you for knowing what you wanted by sucking on your clit, and he enjoyed every second of your orgasm. Every little sound. Each tug on his hair. The way your body seemed to relax into the couch cushions once you were fully sated. And then there was a knock on his door.
"Don't move an inch, Darlin'," he teased, kissing the apex of your thigh.
"I can promise you I won't," you whimpered, arm tossed over your eyes as you ran your fingers slowly up your body.
He chuckled as he walked to the door, and then he realized that he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a raging boner. He grimaced and tried his best to hide himself with his left hand while he pulled the door open. You were just in the other room, completely naked on the couch, and if you sat up, the pizza delivery kid who looked like he was your age would have front row seats to the show of a lifetime.
"Thanks," Jake muttered, taking the pizza box and quickly closing the door. Then he walked to the table, his cock merrily bobbing along the way. He started to grab plates and get you another wine glass of ice water, and he had to pause to consider why exactly he felt the need to make this seem like a date. He'd already been over every bit of your body with his mouth and hands. He could have just fucked you by now. He desperately wanted to. But he needed you to understand that you had to go for the guys who weren't just setting out to take advantage of you. That you needed to make them work for it.
Jake turned when you made a soft sound and wrapped your arms around his waist. You were wearing his clothes again, and he collected you against him. "It smells good," you muttered.
He kissed your forehead and said, "This is the one and only time I'm letting you choose the toppings."
Your laughter rang out as you sat down with your ice water. "I guess I better make it count then. And that's such a typical guy thing, to think their pizza topping preferences are the best."
"Yours are just wrong," he replied quickly, dropping a slice onto your plate before putting one on his own. He watched you take an enormous bite and smile as you chewed it up. "But you're cute, so you can get away with it."
You looked satisfied with his comment as you asked, "So, you usually make other girls eat the grotesque topping combination you prefer? Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?"
"Wow. Okay," he replied with a laugh while he sat down, enjoying your smirk. "You think this Cooper guy is going to put up with you, smartass?"
You cocked your head to the side like you had forgotten all about him. "I thought we weren't supposed to be talking about him anymore? That was lesson number one."
"You're not allowed to bring him up," Jake reminded you. "But I can. So what's so great about him anyway?"
You nibbled on your crust and kind of shrugged. "He's pretty hot. And he asked me out four times. I keep telling him we can go out soon, but I know he's going to stop asking if I don't actually pick a day and do it." You paused and looked at your glass of ice water as you said, "I should have just slept with someone by now. I don't want him to be disappointed that I'm a virgin who doesn't know how to do anything."
Jake grunted and set his pizza down. He'd been with his fair share of women, but there was nothing disappointing about you. The way you got him going was unparalleled, and even though you claimed you didn't know how to do even the basics, you definitely had his number. The hair pulling and cum play and little noises you made were all unintentional but so fucking hot. And now he was annoyed.
"That's why you want to lose your virginity? So you can please him physically?" You shrugged again. "Remember how I told you that it's never about the guy?"
"Yeah."
He reached for your chin and tipped it up so you met his eyes. "That goes for everyone, but especially Cooper. Okay? There's nothing wrong with you, Darlin'. You got everything just right."
You nodded and swallowed hard, and Jake was so fucking jealous of a college kid, he wanted to scream. "Okay, Jake," you whispered. "I believe you."
His fingers slipped slowly along your jaw until they were digging gently into the back of your neck. He studied your pretty face and memorized how his clothing looked on you while your gaze stayed fixed on him. "Are you sure you still want to do this with me?" he asked softly. "Because you don't need me to fix anything about you since there's nothing wrong to begin with."
In an instant, you planted your hand on his thigh and leaned all the way in to kiss him. He realized he was still a little hard from giving you head as soon as you nudged him, but he didn't mind you knowing how badly he wanted you. He didn't stop you as you eased yourself onto his lap without breaking the kiss, and when your body settled against his, you moaned softly. 
Jake pulled away and watched you chase him for more before your eyes fluttered open. "I need to hear you say it," he whispered, hand creeping up inside the shirt you were wearing. "Is this what you really want?"
You didn't hesitate as you told him, "Yes. I want you for my first time, because you're sweet and I know you're not going to hurt me. I don't always need to explain myself for you to know what I need. I want you. Not Cooper and not Rooster. You."
The shirt you were wearing fell to the floor next to his chair, and Jake ran his rough fingers along your sides, making you shiver. He kissed you softly as his hands found the undersides of your breasts. "This pizza is going to taste even more disgusting cold," he murmured as you arched into his touch. "But I can't wait any longer for you."
You smiled against his lips before you stood, taking his hand and guiding him to his feet as well. Then you led him to his bedroom, and he got lost in your little glances along the way.
"Better get those extra large condoms," you told him with a soft laugh.
He kissed you and guided you back toward his bed, and you stretched out luxuriously beneath him, his hand resting on the elastic at your hip. "You got nothing to worry about, Darlin'. I'll take care of everything."
------------------------------
Full speed ahead to Jake's cock in the next part. He's ready to go. You've been warned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 6
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hashtagloveloses · 1 year
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The headline is pretty awful but this is one of those things that gets worse as you read it:
The 14-page petition, filed in Shelby County, Tennessee, probate court, alleges that Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy, who took Oher into their home as a high school student, never adopted him. Instead, less than three months after Oher turned 18 in 2004, the petition says, the couple tricked him into signing a document making them his conservators, which gave them legal authority to make business deals in his name.
"Michael Oher discovered this lie to his chagrin and embarrassment in February of 2023, when he learned that the Conservatorship to which he consented on the basis that doing so would make him a member of the Tuohy family, in fact provided him no familial relationship with the Tuohys."
Oher was a rising high school senior when he signed the conservatorship papers, and he has written that the Tuohys told him that there was essentially no difference between adoption and conservatorship. "They explained to me that it means pretty much the exact same thing as 'adoptive parents,' but that the laws were just written in a way that took my age into account," Oher wrote in his 2011 best-selling memoir "I Beat the Odds."
But there are some important legal distinctions. If Oher had been adopted by the Tuohys, he would have been a legal member of their family, and he would have retained power to handle his own financial affairs. Under the conservatorship, Oher surrendered that authority to the Tuohys, even though he was a legal adult with no known physical or psychological disabilities.
While the [movie] deal allowed the Tuohys to profit from the film, the petition alleges, a separate 2007 contract purportedly signed by Oher appears to "give away" to 20th Century Fox Studios the life rights to his story "without any payment whatsoever." The filing says Oher has no recollection of signing that contract, and even if he did, no one explained its implications to him.
The [movie] deal lists all four Tuohy family members as having the same representative at Creative Artists Agency, the petition says. But Oher's agent, who would receive movie contract and payment notices, is listed as Debra Branan, a close family friend of the Tuohys and the same lawyer who filed the 2004 conservatorship petition, the petition alleges. Branan did not return a call to her law office on Monday.
"Mike's relationship with the Tuohy family started to decline when he discovered that he was portrayed in the movie as unintelligent," Stranch said. "Their relationship continued to deteriorate as he learned that he was the only member of the family not receiving royalty checks from the movie, and it was permanently fractured when he realized he wasn't adopted and a part of the family."
For years, Oher has chafed at how "The Blind Side" depicted him, saying it hurt his football career and clouded how people view him. He has said that based on the film, some NFL decision-makers assumed he was mentally slow or lacked leadership skills.
"People look at me, and they take things away from me because of a movie," Oher told ESPN in 2015. "They don't really see the skills and the kind of player I am."
"Beyond the details of the deal, the politics, and the money behind the book and movie, it was the principle of the choices some people made that cut me the deepest."
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