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ak-vintage · 1 month

Text

Work of Art

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Prompt: Marcus Acacius & Nose

Summary: Your pregnancy brings out a vulnerability in Marcus you never would have expected. When he reluctantly shares his insecurities with you, you are more than happy to reaffirm your affection for each and every part of him.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Second-person POV, no use of Y/N, established relationship, arranged marriage, POSSIBLE DUBCON (sex in an arranged marriage with a patriarchal power structure), hefty age gap, pregnant reader, inexperienced reader, insecurity, body worship, nose worship, face-sitting, oral (f! receiving), discovering that you’re in love with your spouse, SO MUCH FLUFF, high likelihood of historical inaccuracy (aiming for vibes, not perfection)

Written for @joelmillerisapunk PPCU Body Worship Writing Challenge

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Read on AO3

It is barely sunrise when the messenger arrives at your door.

Coated in a layer of dust from the road, mounted on the back of a well-lathered horse, and bearing the colors of the empire, the young man demands your staff wake you to receive him – that he is under orders to accept no intermediary, that his message is intended for the lady of the house and no one else. The news of his arrival sends ice into your veins the moment you open your eyes; even as the wife of a general, you do not often receive messages from the front lines, and you could not resist fearing the worst. Curls loose and mussed with sleep, tunica tied almost haphazardly in your haste, you rush to the atrium as quickly as propriety will allow and take the messenger’s sealed scroll with trembling hands.

My dearest wife, it reads. The skirmish on the southern border has been quelled for the time being. In recognition of our efforts, and out of respect for our recent union, I have been granted leave to return to Rome for a period of respite. If the sea is calm and the road is easy, you can look to the horizon for my return in one month’s time. Prepare the household for my arrival. Faithfully yours, Marcus Acacius

The relief you feel at those words is so powerful that you sink into the nearest chair, weak-kneed. Thankfully, your staff are more than competent enough to manage offering food, a bath, and a fresh horse to the harried messenger without your guidance, for you have not the capacity to play hostess. It had been your greatest fear, you realize as you sit there reading and re-reading the general’s letter until your eyes begin to burn with fatigue. You had had such little time as husband and wife before Marcus had been shipped out to the border, and you dread nothing more than the prospect of joining the ranks of the widows of Rome before you even have the opportunity to fully know the man you had married. It would have been such a waste, you think, like a flower cut from the vine when it was barely a bud, cursed never to bloom for the rest of time.

The truth is that although yours had been an arranged marriage, one of convenience, you feel (perhaps naively) that it held great promise. The general had never married, choosing to prioritize his military ambitions over his personal life. However, now that he was getting older, he had determined that it would be wise to seek a wife who might give him an heir to the prestigious station he had earned for himself over the years. Your father, a wealthy, prominent senator, had brokered the match, and a mere fortnight after you had been introduced for the first time, you had been wed.

Marcus had proven to be a gentle husband, a great contrast to what you had believed based on the tales of his ferocity in battle. He had spoken kindly to you and listened patiently, giving weight to your words, treating you like a partner right from the start. He had given you free reign over the household and encouraged you to mold his domus and his staff to suit your tastes. You had had very little time in each other’s presence, but he nevertheless struck you as a man of honor, a man of principle. As a woman in your position, there was little else you could ask for in a match, and the thought had comforted you as you stood side-by-side with this near-stranger and signed your marriage contract.

On your wedding night, he had been as tender with you as he could. You had been able to tell that he was holding himself back, restraining himself from taking you as savagely as he might have wished, but for that, you thought him compassionate. Of course, there had been some pain to start; this you had anticipated. However, toward the end of your coupling, as the general had begun to growl muffled curses into the soft skin of your neck and thrust himself so deeply inside you, you swore you could feel his manhood in your belly, you thought perhaps that it might have begun to feel…good?

He had spilled his seed within you shortly thereafter, bringing your union to a sudden and dramatic end and leaving your tentative, blooming pleasure to fizzle and die in your veins.

You glance down at the swell of your belly at the recollection, feeling heat rise in your cheeks. The fruits of your union that night – and the nights that followed for the brief month he had been permitted to remain by your side – had made themselves apparent shortly after his departure. That had been five months ago now, and it had been an incredible relief to know that you had managed to fulfill your duty to the general so quickly. You had fully expected to give birth on your own, to share the joyous news with him via special messenger like so many other soldier’s wives. Now, to know that he is set to return so soon, that relief is compounded. Barring any emergencies on the front, he likely would be home long enough to be present for the birth.

Birthing was a woman’s business, of course. You knew there was little Marcus could truly do to aid you in your labors. But a part of you, perhaps a very foolish, girlish part of you, could not help but feel safer when he was near. You would sleep better at night knowing he was once again within the walls of your domus.

Easing yourself back onto your feet, you get the attention of the nearest member of your staff.

“Once our guest has been seen to, gather the others in the courtyard,” you command. “We have much to prepare. The general is coming home.”

General Marcus Acacius rides into Rome on a sunny afternoon astride a handsome black stallion. Escorted only by a small retinue of guards and vassals, he travels light, with the economy and efficiency of a man who has spent the majority of his adult life in an army camp. The servant boy you have stationed at the city walls every day for the last week eagerly tells you that he looks well, that he has been asked to report first to the emperors’ palace but that he expects to be home by nightfall.

The news of your husband’s imminent arrival has a riot of butterflies rising in your chest, and you feel the child you carry respond almost instantly, fluttering and twitching against the walls of your womb at your excitement. A smile pulls at your lips, and you smooth your palms over the rounded surface of your belly as if to say, “I understand. I feel it, too.”

You send a message to the kitchen staff with orders to ensure that the general’s favorite meal is prepared for this evening, as well as for his preferred wine to be brought up from the cellar. Perhaps it is a bit silly – this is his home even moreso than it is yours – but you have an odd desire to make him feel welcomed. You want him to know that you have given thought to his needs and his preferences, that you have managed and looked after his home with proficiency in his absence, that you have anticipated his return.

You want to make the general happy, you realize with a flush. Not only for him to be happy, but you wish to be the cause of that happiness. Does that make you proud, you wonder? Or selfish? Perhaps. All you know for certain is that in the brief time spent by his side, all those months ago, you had begun to associate Marcus Acacius with feelings of comfort, of safety, of acceptance. Even perhaps…affection. You like him. Was it so wrong to wish for him to like you, too?

You are in the ostium waiting for him when the general arrives. The sun sets behind him as he approaches on horseback, still in full armor from his travels, and your first thought is that he is even larger than you remember. Blotting out the golden light with the incredible breadth of his shoulders, you think he looks almost otherworldly, like some mythical hero of old returned from a harrowing quest. You can feel your heart speed up behind your ribs, galloping like the hooves of his horse on the cobblestones, and you are thankful no one can hear it but you. You are a woman grown, wedded and bedded and carrying a child, the head of your own household, the wife of a prominent, respected officer of the grand army of Rome. The idea that you should become so flighty, so unmoored at the sight of your own husband is absurd.

When his gaze falls on you, your trembling hands find your stomach, a gesture that has become more and more instinctual as the bump has become more and more visible, and before he can even greet you, his eyes drop to where they rest.

Marcus pulls his horse up short, the soft expression in his dark irises sharpening, intensifying. You watch as his prominent brow draws up, something between shock and awe and hope washing over his face, and then he is swinging his leg up and over his mount, dropping to the ground, closing the distance between you in a handful of long, powerful strides. His eyes do not leave your stomach until he is a mere handful of inches from your body, and you catch sight of his broad, thick-fingered hands clenching at his sides as though resisting the urge to reach out and touch you.

“Dearest wife,” he rasps, his throat dry as he finally, finally flicks his eyes back up to meet yours. “Have you something to tell me?”

You swallow thickly, suddenly overcome with the intensity, the intimacy of his attention. “Welcome home…husband.” Your voice sounds tremulous to your own ears, but you do not allow yourself to dwell on it. Instead, you wrap both of your hands around one of his and bring his dry, scarred knuckles to your lips. Dropping a kiss onto the center ridge, you add, “It is a blessing from the gods to see you well after so many months apart.”

Your name is a sigh on his lips. “It is a blessing to be permitted to return home after so short a time,” he counters. “Now, if my eyes deceive me, I will beg your forgiveness and claim fatigue from the long journey as my excuse. But are you…”

He trails off, as though hesitant to speak the words aloud, and you could swear that someone had reached into your chest and taken hold of your heart for how tight it squeezes at the thread of hope woven into his words. Unable to bear it anymore, you finish his incomplete thought on your own.

“Yes…General Acacius – ”

“Marcus,” he interjects immediately, and you feel yourself flush at the familiarity.

“Marcus,” you echo. “I-I am with child. You are to be a father.”

The breath he releases is long and slow, his dark eyes shining in the setting sun, and if you did not know better, you might think that your revelation had rendered him speechless. However, it takes him only a moment to collect himself, and then he is reaching for your belly with both hands, palms outstretched almost pleadingly. “May I – ?”

You nod readily, feeling a grin split your face, and then his hands are on you, cupping your swelling bump with his sword-calloused touch. His skin catches on the fine material of your tunica, but you are unbothered. He is warm and vital against you, his touch more than welcome after so many months on your own, and as though the precious thing had been waiting for their cue, the child in your womb kicks against their father’s hands.

The general’s brows shoot up at that, his forehead crinkling beneath his dark, gray-streaked curls, and he lets out a rough, strained laugh. “By the gods. It’s true.” Keeping one hand on your bump, he brings the other to the side of your face, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck, stroking your jaw with his thumb. It’s the most tender, intimate gesture he has ever shown you, and the heat of his palm has your knees weakening beneath you.

“You honor me, amica. Thank you,” he says, husky voice thick with emotion. He presses a brief, dry kiss to your forehead, and you cannot help but wish it had been to your lips instead.

Dinner passes in a blur of sumptuous foods and peppered questions, both from you about his time at the border and from him about how you are settling into your new home, your new role. This is one thing about your relationship that has been easy from the moment you met – it is clear to you that Marcus cares deeply about your perspective on the world. He never rushes you, never cuts in when you are speaking, never attempts to correct you in some demonstration of superiority. It’s a unique experience for you coming from a man, particularly one of his age and rank, and it makes you feel cherished in a way you never would have expected in a marriage like yours. You are under no illusions that yours was a love match, after all, but something about the intent way that Marcus holds your gaze, the way he nods along as you speak, the way he asks such thoughtful questions – it has you all but convinced that he cares for you as you are coming to care for him.

The two of you linger over dinner long past nightfall, but eventually, he stands from his chair at the head of the table, offers his hand to you, and leads you to the privacy of your shared chambers. He beds you that night, as you had expected he would after so long without the touch of a woman, and you go to him willingly. His touch burns with barely-restrained fervor, the expression on his handsome face twisted almost as if in pain, and just as you had on that first night, you feel something building within you as he takes you.

You have no name for it, and yet it feels altering in its magnitude. You feel like lightning, like lava, like some elemental thing ablaze with fire and light, and just when you are certain that the feeling is about to consume you, just as you know in your bones that you cannot take any more or you will surely die –

Marcus spills himself inside you, withdraws, and collapses onto the bed next to you.

The feeling recedes. You catch your breath. Your husband plants a kiss on your hairline, and under his lips, he finds the sweat of your exertion, of your truncated pleasure. He whispers “good night, amica” against your curls, and then he rolls away.

Moments later, soft snores fill the room. The general is fast asleep, but you…

You are going mad.

It is many days later before this madness finally comes to a head.

Every night since his return, Marcus has sought his pleasure in your body. He never forces himself upon you or hurts you in any way; he asks before touching you, always. But as you approach a full week of night after night of thwarted pleasure, you cannot help but begin to find ways to…delay the inevitable question. You have taken to engaging him in conversation as you lay in bed, asking him about the many visitors he has received over the last several days, or about his journey home from the border, or about his favorite horse, Tempestas. He takes this in stride, seemingly happy to indulge you, and the two of you spend long minutes talking softly by candlelight, warm and close under soft, shared sheets.

This night, you decide to ask him about the baby and how he feels knowing that you carry his heir, that his legacy is secured.

You anticipate the smile he gives you, the fond look in his eyes as he reaches out to feel the curve of your belly, as he has done now hundreds of times over the last week. What you do not expect is the earnestness of his words as he tells you, “I have never been a father before. At my age, I did not expect that I would ever have the privilege. Now that you have made it possible, I find that I care much less for legacy or inheritance than I do for…safety. Stability. Peace.”

You soften at that, and on instinct, your hand goes to his hair, brushing his graying curls back from his forehead with gentle, soothing strokes. You have found that this is something he likes, and he leans into your touch like a barn cat in a sunbeam. He seems pensive, and you allow the silence between you to linger while he gathers his thoughts.

“I mourn that this child should have a general for a father,” he admits after a moment. “I will be absent for much of his life. I will disappear for stretches of time that could number in years, and when I return, I will be like a stranger to him. Were it in my control, I would be more present. I wish to know my child. And for him to know me.”

“Him?” you echo, a bit impishly, and Marcus smirks.

“Or her, of course. I cannot claim to know whom you carry in your womb. I shall leave that mystery for the gods.”

You grin back him, enjoying the good humor sparkling in his dark eyes. “I am sure that however much time you are permitted to spend with our child – be it months or weeks or days – it will be enough.”

Lifting himself up on one elbow, the general fixes you with a skeptical frown. “How can you be so certain?” he asks.

“Because it does not take long to see who you are, Marcus,” you reply earnestly. “To see your nobility, your strength, your power. Your kindness. These are all things I learned about you in the mere fortnight before we were wed. Your child shall know these things about you, as well.”

Tucking your hands beneath your cheek, you stare up at him from your pillow. The warmth of the candlelight casts shadows across his golden skin, highlighting the soft crinkles around his eyes, the bridge of his nose, the plush fullness of his lower lip. “Besides, even when you are away, I shall be around to teach them,” you add with a shrug.

“Amica…” He seems a bit overcome at your sincerity, and his low voice rasps like a sword on a whetstone in the darkness. “You are very generous.”

That riot of butterflies returns to your belly as the intimacy of the moment stretches on. Gods, but he is so beautiful like this. No one has ever looked at you the way he does – not with base lust for your body, not with envy for your wealth, not with dismissal for your sex. Marcus looks at you like something precious, like something to be valued. That look makes you foolish, makes your cheeks hot and your tongue loose.

When you speak again, it is without thought.

“When I think about our child…I hope that they look like you, so that even when we are apart, I might have some comfort in seeing your face every day.”

At that, the general lets out a full-bodied laugh and rolls his eyes. Flipping over onto his back, he shakes his head fondly at you like one might a mischievous child. “Now I know for certain that you are flattering me, wife.”

Your brows nearly reach your hairline as a flush of embarrassment races up the back of your neck, darkening your cheeks in an instant. “Wh – No, sir, I would never!” you insist. “I am being entirely earnest.”

“My face? My face upon an innocent babe?” He says this with a scoffing laugh, sounding amused, but when you catch sight of the tightness in his jaw, the wrinkle between his brows, you think that there might be something…authentic beneath his jesting words. “No, my dear wife. It would be far better if the child were to share your visage. Then they might truly be comely to look upon.”

Is it possible…have you stumbled upon a true insecurity, you wonder? It seems unlikely. This is General Marcus Acacius, commander of the emperors’ armies, a man two decades your senior who fought wars on behalf of Rome before you could even walk on two feet. He exudes power and strength and intelligence, and he carries himself with the kind of confidence and self-assurance that comes along with experience. He is a skilled strategist, an indomitable warrior.

Does he truly not see…

Scooting closer to him on the bed, you allow yourself to cup his bearded jaw, to turn his face toward yours. “There would be no greater gift than a child with your eyes, Marcus,” you say softly. “Or perhaps your smile.”

“But not this nose, surely,” he replies, tapping the end of his prominent, hooked nose with one calloused finger. He shakes his head with a wry smile, as though the idea is too preposterous to consider. “I would not willingly inflict such an eyesore upon a child.”

By the gods. He means it, you realize. He has truly surprised you. To your knowledge, the general is not a vain or self-conscious man. You have never known him to care overmuch about how he looks; it was quite a contrast to the pampered upper-class boys you grew up alongside, something you had found refreshing when you had first met. Had you misunderstood? Misinterpreted his lack of self-regard as a lack of care?

You decide it does not matter. All you know for certain is that your husband appears to be under the impression that his appearance leaves something to be desired, and as his wife, you feel it is your duty to demonstrate to him just how wrong he is.

The thought has your heartrate picking up again.

“Do you know…what I thought,” you begin haltingly, forcing yourself to hold his gaze, “the first day I met you, at my father’s villa?”

His dark brows knit together in a small frown, as though your words have surprised him. “Tell me.”

Swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat, you confess, “I thought you the most striking man I had ever seen.”

“You flatter me, dear heart.” His words are soft, as is his answering smile, but you can hear the platitude in his voice. He does not believe you.

“No, no, it is not flattery.” With some effort, you push yourself up off of the bed, too emphatic to remain lying down for this discussion. You haul your pregnant body up to kneel at his side, tucking your knees into the warmth of his thick waist, and your long hair dangles over his broad chest as you look into his eyes. “I know that…the circumstances of our union were not exactly romantic, and I know that we do not yet know each other well, but I hope you will heed my words when I tell you that…I count myself extremely fortunate to have been married to so handsome a man.” Glancing down at your hands, you fiddle with one of the many thin, gold rings on your fingers in self-consciousness. “My father could have selected anyone he liked. The fact that it is you who shares my bed, you whose child I carry… It is a blessing.”

It is silent between you for a time, your words hanging in the air like a declaration, but then Marcus’s body shifts against you. Curling up to sit at your side, one of his thick, broad hands comes into your line of vision and wraps itself around both of yours, stilling your fidgeting.

You risk a look up, meeting his gaze through the length of your lashes, and you feel your breath leave your body as you take in the softest, warmest, most tender expression you have ever seen on his handsome face.

“It pleases me to hear that you are happy,” he murmurs, running one of his thumbs along the back of your hand. “And that your affection for my look is genuine. It would not do for you to say such things in an attempt to…endear yourself to me. There is no need. I am already quite fond of you.”

You are quick to shake your head. “Not at all! If I have ever given you such an impression, you have my deepest apologies.”

Now that your true feelings for your husband have been revealed, you feel as though you can no longer contain them. Under the affectionate weight of his dark eyes, more comes spilling forth, unbidden. “The truth is that even in the short time that we have known one another, I have spent many hours at my easel attempting to recall your likeness in detail so that I might recreate it. Your nose in particular, I find to be most…attractive.”

Your hand moves of its own accord then, slipping from his grip to float across the narrow space between you as though possessed by some covetous spirit. The very tip of your middle finger lands in the space between his eyebrows, and although you make no conscious decision to do so, you trace down the steep curve of the bridge of his nose with a touch so delicate it might as well have been a breeze.

Your own voice sounds breathless and far away to your ears as you whisper, “You look like a sculpture, Marcus. Like the great marble warriors along the garden path. It makes you look stately and…masculine and…commanding.” Between your thighs, you feel your most intimate muscles clench. You have grown swollen and sensitive there, a feeling you have become increasingly familiar with since your husband’s return home. It’s sweet and delicious and utterly torturous, making you want to squirm in your seat, but you resist.

At least…until Marcus traps your hand in his and brings your wandering fingers to his mouth.

Your eyes snap to his, and you watch as he presses slow, lingering kisses across each of your fingertips. The sensation of his hot, moist breath on your sensitive skin has you trembling, and gods, but his lips are so soft. Turning your palm up to the heavens, the general places a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the tender center of your palm, and you feel yourself swaying toward him as though under a spell.

The plush of his lips dances gently across the thin skin of the inside of your wrist, and your pulse thrums beneath his touch as he growls, “There is perhaps…one advantage of such a face.”

“Tell me.” Your echo of his earlier words comes out like a whine, like you are pleading with him, though what you are pleading for, you cannot say.

Marcus appears to consider your request for a moment, his eyes going sharp and calculating, and then he says, “Perhaps it might be better if I showed you. Do you trust me, dear heart?”

You are quick to nod. “Yes. I trust you.”

Inclining his head at you in acknowledgment, he releases his grip on your hand and pulls away entirely. He lays back on the bed then, scooting down so that his head is flat on the padded surface rather than on his pillow. He adjusts himself a bit, shifting back and forth, but once he is comfortable, he looks back at you and pats his chest with both hands. The sound is muffled by his soft linen sleep tunic but nonetheless audible in the silence of your bedchamber.

“Mount me,” he says without preamble, and you swear you can hear the whirring gears in your brain grind to a halt.

“W-What?”

“I want you to sit astride my face, as you would a horse.” No matter how intensely your face burns at the wicked suggestion, you cannot seem to look away. His deep brown eyes are bottomless in the dark, the depths of them reflecting the candlelight like water at the bottom of a well. You can feel yourself falling into them, can feel something at the very core of you tugging toward him, answering his call. If you were to glance down at the rest of his body, you would see the evidence of the general’s own arousal tenting his tunic, but your gaze is trapped, held fast by the magnetism of him.

“Come, amica,” he says after a moment of your silent, scandalized staring. “You may rest your ass upon my chest, but I would have that sweet cunt on my mouth.”

You swallow audibly, still making no move to obey. Wetness begins to pool between your thighs, slicking your skin and staining the fabric of your sleep clothes, and you lose the battle against your urge to squirm. Your thighs clench together, and you shift upon your calves in search of friction, but you find none. You need his touch…but what he is suggesting is –

“M-Marcus, I couldn’t possibly – I shall smother you, how will you – ”

He cuts off your protests with a growl of your name, and in that moment, you see not your noble husband staring up at you. Instead, you see the Roman General Acacius – sharp jaw clenched, nostrils flared, dark eyes blazing.

“I shall not ask again, wife. No harm will come to you or to me. Now do as you’re told and sit on my face.”

You hesitate for another beat, then two, and then you shuffle forward on wobbly knees to obey. Your husband’s eyes burn a path across your body as you approach him, tracing from your parted, panting lips, to your heaving breasts, to your swollen, pregnant belly. You feel the look like a physical touch, and the sensation has your skin flushing, has sweat breaking out at the small of your back and the nape of your neck. With shaking, uncertain hands, you reach out and brace your palms against the gold-filigreed headboard for stability.

“That’s it, nearly there now,” Marcus sighs as you clumsily, awkwardly swing one of your legs over his body. Your knee lands on the other side of his shoulder, and you feel the heat of his touch on your naked thighs almost immediately. With slow, deliberate motions, he pushes the hem of your sleep tunic up to your hips, revealing your bare ass and cunt to the cool air of the bedroom.

You draw your lower lip between your teeth to stifle a whine, and gooseflesh breaks out across your skin. You’ve started to shake, though whether in fear or arousal, you couldn’t say. Gods, you’re so exposed now. The wetness between your thighs is fully on display, mere inches from your husband’s face. It’s mortifying; if you could melt into the bed and disappear forever, you know you would.

Marcus, however, clearly has no such compunctions. His thick fingers knead the soft, lush flesh of your hips and thighs, using his grip to draw your forward, to draw you down. The groan that oozes from his lips into the hot slip of atmosphere between you sounds exactly like the one he makes when he first slides inside you, and you feel yourself clench involuntarily at the tremor of it now sounding between your legs. He must catch sight of this, your body’s own betrayal happening right under that stately nose that started this whole ordeal, for one moment he appears to be watching you settle in with rapt attention, and the next, he is releasing a dark, sinister chuckle and yanking you closer.

You give a thought for resistance then, consider pulling yourself from his hold, but –

Oh, you can feel his breath on your cunt, can feel your dripping curls shift beneath the current of air as he laughs.

You shift a bit on your knees, settling so that your weight rests just above each of his shoulders with his hands gripping your hips from behind you. The lower curve of your ass brushes the fine fabric of his tunic, and you are certain that if you could see his face, you would find his chin mere inches from the part of you that pulses and throbs for his attention. As it is, the roundness of your bump nearly eclipses his head, leaving only wisps of the thick, graying curls on the top of his head to peak out around the edges.

“Marcus?” Your voice trembles with nerves around his name, and beneath you, he sighs.

“Well done, amica, you are right where I want you,” he assures you with a groan. You feel the well-trimmed stubble of his silvered beard brush your lower lips; the feeling startles a gasp out of you, and on instinct, one of your hands flies from the headboard to the top of his head. “Mmm, yes, that’s it – sink your fingers into my hair. Hold yourself steady on me.”

You hardly recognize the sound of your own voice as you whimper, “Marcus – Marcus, please.”

“I know what you need.” His touch on your hips is warm, gentle, soothing. “Don’t be afraid. Now rest your weight on me and let me taste you.”

The joints in your limbs feel like water at the general’s words, at the hot wash of his breath across your swollen center. The embarrassment at your precarious position above his face still fizzes in your veins, making you lightheaded, but molten desire has begun to drown it out. Your mind doesn’t fully understand what is about to happen or what he is asking of you, but it seems that on some level, your body does, because it is absolutely thrumming for it.

There is nothing for it anymore. You cannot refuse him. You do not want to refuse him. Whatever he is about to do to you, your body needs it, craves it in the same way it does air or water or food. When you sink your cunt down onto your husband’s waiting mouth, it feels both like a surrender and like a victory.

“Oh – gods, Marcus – ”

Marcus groans deep in his chest the moment you touch his tongue, and then he is bracketing his arms around your thighs and forcibly seating you even more firmly against him. Dragging the slick, pink muscle of his tongue through your folds in one long, languorous stroke, it doesn’t take long before your thighs begin to tremble around his ears. He is focused, meticulous, thorough in his exploration of your most intimate flesh – sucking delicately at your lips, dipping the gentle tip of his tongue into your soft, quivering hole, using the flat of it to dance around that swollen nub at your apex that pulses with the thunderous beat of your heart. The thick arms locked around your thighs angle you this way and that, and through the sound of your own gasps and whines, you can hear the way your wetness drips at his touch.

Every lick, every suck, every swirl of his tongue serves to drive you higher, and you find yourself mindlessly running your hands over your body to ground yourself – stroking your belly, gripping your hips, cupping your breasts. The latter has you accidentally brushing your hardened nipples with your thumbs, and even muted as it is through your tunic, the sensation has you crying out into the dark room.

And that tongue never stops. Marcus is relentless – inexorable and yet unhurried. You can feel all of the tension in your hips and thighs melting away under the heat of his touch, and yet deep within you, something has begun to twist, to pulse, to squeeze. It feels like it does when Marcus beds you – pleasure stirring, burning, building within you as he grows more and more intent, more and more hungry, oh, gods…

It is miraculous. It is unbearable. It is tantamount to torture.

“Marcus,” you gasp helplessly, your fingers knotting in his hair, gripping the headboard. “I – I need – ”

The general pulls away from your cunt with a growl like an animal, and the sound rumbles through your body as he rasps, “That’s it, beautiful girl. Ride my face. Grind those hips into me and ride my face.”

You understand each of his words individually, but they do not coalesce in your mind. How does one “ride” a face? For a moment, you feel self-consciousness and shame begin to creep in at the edges of your thoughts. There are others who would understand the general’s instructions, surely. Others who would know what he wanted and would do it for him in an instant. For the first time, you allow yourself to consider the women that follow the army camps, the women whose services you were certain your husband had partaken of throughout his extensive career. They would know, certainly. Was there truly anything you could offer him that they could not?

Just as you begin to lose that delicious curl of pleasure in your core, as the fog of desire begins to clear from your brain, Marcus flexes those thick, strong arms around your legs and encourages your hips to thrust, dragging your tender flesh across the stubble of his beard, the plush of his lips, the slick of his tongue. That tongue, suddenly firm and pointed, thrusts into your sex, lapping at your wetness, filling the place that clenches for his cock. With the hitch of your hips, that swollen bundle of nerves just at the top glances across the bridge of your husband’s nose.

“Ah! Marcus!”

Beneath your cunt on his face, beneath your hand in his hair, you feel him nod emphatically, and understanding crashes over you like a wave. “Riding” his face. “Mounting” him, like a horse. This is what he wants. He wants you to thrust your hips against his face, as if in the saddle of a warhorse. To rub yourself against his nose and his tongue.

He wants you to find your pleasure with his body.

As though all your joints and muscles had been waiting on this realization, your hips begin to move of their own accord almost immediately, thrusting against that relentless, ever-present tongue, driving it deeper into the hot clutch of your cunt, and fuck…that nose, that big, strong, curved, perfect nose, glancing off of that most sensitive spot with every thrust. Head thrown back, hands on your breasts, fingers twisting and pulling your tender nipples through your tunic, you experiment with different speeds, different pressures, different depths, but if you are honest with yourself, you are so far gone that it has all begun to feel equally intense, equally delicious.

And so you move with abandon – leaning heavily on the headboard for balance, gripping his hair, you grind your swollen, dripping cunt across your husband’s handsome face, fucking his tongue deep into your body, riding the hard curve of his perfect Roman nose. You feel yourself pulse and twitch and tremble with every thrust, feel him lap and slurp and suck at you with new fervor, feel his thick fingers dig into your hips so deeply you know you will bear his bruises in the morning. You had not known pleasure like this existed, had not known it was possible for you to achieve it. You feel drunk with it, the way it seeps into your veins like one too many glasses of wine, and Marcus drinks you down like the finest vintage.

Your clitoris drags across his nose once again, and you cannot smother your moan at the feeling. “Gods, Marcus, your nose – ”

Against your wetness, the general’s face vibrates with something like a chuckle. “I know, dear heart, I know – I told you, this face has one advantage.”

You shake your head fervently, feeling your long curls brush your back as you grind. “It’s perfect. Perfect, Marcus, I – oh, gods, I feel – ”

Another animalistic growl ripples through your husband’s chest, and you feel him nod beneath you. “Jus’ let it happen, amica. Take your pleasure,” he slurs, mouth full of you.

And you do. You take and take and take, clit grinding, hips thrusting, thighs shaking, lungs gasping, and with every pass, that bright, hot, vicious spiral in your abdomen winds tighter, tighter, tighter. Gods, it feels as though it is going to consume you – to swallow you whole and drag you under, to drown you in your own dripping sweetness, your own savage pleasure.

And then it plateaus, the sensations holding, holding, staying at precisely the same level, dangling you over the edge, and in a far away voice, you hear yourself whimper, “Marcus, please!”

Releasing his grip on one of your hips, the man beneath you lands a single, sharp smack to the meat of your ass, and over the edge you fall.

It’s everything you thought it could be – lightning in your veins, lava in your lungs, something primal and elemental and raw that rips through your body like a tidal wave that leaves you hiccuping whines and shaking like a leaf atop the general’s face. You spill your pleasure down his chin, into his mouth, along his jaw. It slips down his neck and dampens the embroidered collar of his tunic, and the way he groans into your twitching cunt, you would think that it had caused him pain. But no – he feels your ecstasy as though it is his own. You have left your body to soar among the clouds, and he joins you, overcome with the particular joy of being responsible for making his wife – the mother of his child – reach such heights.

When you come back to yourself, you are utterly spent – limp and boneless and sweating as though you had just run at top speed from here to the city gates. You start to collapse, and Marcus’s strong hands are there to catch you, to slide you down from his face to his lap. Gathering you into his arms, he brings you back down onto the mattress and tucks you into his side. His broad shoulder cushions your flushed cheek, and his fingers brush your disheveled hair back from your face as you catch your breath. Through bleary eyes, you catch the way his face shines in the candlelight. He’s covered in your slick.

For a few moments, you simply gaze at each other as the silence stretches between you. It is only punctuated by the sound of your labored breaths as each of you settle, but somehow it isn’t awkward, and you find yourself smiling in spite of yourself. He’s so perfect like this, your Marcus. Hair mussed, face pink, everything from his chin to his nose glowing with your pleasure.

There’s a softness around his eyes you’ve never seen before, an earnest warmth that burrows its way into your chest and makes a nest there dangerously close to your heart. It’s an emotion you have a name for, if you are brave enough to say it, and the thought has you gripping tight to his tunic.

You are in awe of him.

You…you love him.

“And what is your verdict, my wife?” he asks after a beat. His voice is a low rumble that travels through his chest and into your body, warming you inside. “Does this Roman nose still please you?”

A tired grin tugs at the corners of your lips, pulling you out of the seriousness of your thoughts, and you nod as enthusiastically as you can manage. “Indeed, I am not certain I have ever been quite so…pleased before, husband.”

“Hmm. Good.” Marcus tucks the arm around your body into your waist, pulling you even deeper into his embrace. “Then perhaps the thing may serve a purpose after all.”

You reach up and cup his cheek in your palm, feeling the stickiness of your spend in his beard on your skin. “The purpose it serves is that it is my husband’s nose, and as such, is a part of the dearest face in the world to me.” His dark eyes soften at that, and he turns to place a warm kiss on the heel of your hand.

“Though…should you find yourself forgetting,” you add with an impish grin, “I would not object to a…repeat demonstration of its value. If it would be of any help to you, of course.”

This startles a laugh from his chest, his dark eyes crinkling with mirth, and you cannot help but join in. Gods, he is gorgeous, you think to yourself as you chuckle together in the dark. Both in his soul and in his body, your husband is gorgeous.

A hand drops to the place where your child rests, safe and protected inside your womb, and you feel a little flutter against your palm.

You decide then that you care not whether your child bears your face or Marcus’s. Either way, they will be beautiful, for how could they not be, when they have come from this?

Latin Translation:

amica - darling, sweetheart

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x f!reader #general marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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goldsbitch · 6 months

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My name

Busy schedules don't allow Y/N and her boyfriend Lando Norris much down time to chill with her friends. But missing a wedding is a no go.

fluffy fluff, wedding, one shot, for the vibes only

It was almost a stroke of luck that Y/N's friends managed to pick a date for their wedding on a day that Lando could attend. This was a rare opportunity, while she accompanied him often during his events or outings, more than often he was unable to be there as her partner on her personal affairs.

Missed family gatherings, friends birthdays and grill parties. She accepted that part of their relationship, with the hope that in the future, it might come to change. They'd been dating for two years now - if she had to pick the brightest days of her life so far, it would in this time frame.

There was lot of excitement in the late summer air. One of her best friends was marrying a guy she became good buddy with over the years. And Lando would finally be joining her, as her partner. No more half smiles following the question "Would Lando join us this time?". These two friends marrying each other were a nice inspiration for the kind of relationship Y/N strived for. And Lando was that for her - a partner, lover, friend and the one to always make her laugh. But some of the people in her life were not convinced that he was good for her, mainly for the lack of his presence. She did not want the opinions of other to spoil their relationship. However, it would be a lie to say that her heart wasn't jumping around with happiness at the prospect of having him join them.

Her friends organized their dream wedding in a lovely estate somewhere in South of France. Small village remote from any city, safe from any prying eyes. It was refreshing from the flashing lights of racing tracks. Eighty people, all mostly friends with each other.

Y/N came in earlier with the main couple, in order to help them put everything in place. Two days of hard work navigating typical struggled of wedding organizing, with tomorrow being the big day. Regular guest were coming in, but she was only waiting for him, counting every minute.

Those prep days were packed with dealing with logistics and all this wedding usually concern. Going back and forth and trying to make everything perfect for the main event. But, she manages to find a moment of solutide to take in the beauty, the smell of late harvest, sun kissed valleys and heavy summer air, that set everything in. Having the bottom of your dress shiver with light breeze is the epitome of bliss. Life was good. And for the main part, she would get to experience all this with her love around her arm.

The two getting married? They were something else.

"Babe, what the fuck are these glasses?" said the bride to be as she watched the caterers setting up table for an evening dinner buffet.

"Well, you said yes, to them, remember? Back in May," was how the groom replied hastily. Y/N watched, knowing well enough that the strange looking glasses that were too big for her friends small hands were definitely not what the bride would have picked. She smirked as she watched them bicker playfully.

"They look like some futuristic ashtrays," the bride continued, shooting arrows playfully at he soon to be husband.

"Hm. Isn't that cool?" he said, trying to talk himself out of it. They were both strong opinionated people, so this was not a rare debate.

"No? How do you think this suits our late summer garden vibe?" she said, pointing around to the fields.

"You said yes to them, I remember specifically..." he defended without a beat.

"My mom's going to think we smoke."

"Well...we could use them as ashtrays," he said, inspecting the items.

The bride threw her hands up, not believing the game her "soon to be" was playing. "Babe, we don't smoke!"

He mimicked her hand gesture ironically. "We could start!"

"Just admit you've made a fuck up, honey, and we're good."

"That will never happen. This is all part of the plan."

Y/N observed and chucked, knowing well enough that the best thing to do was to stay out of their way.

A small quiet whisper came from behind Y/N. "Is this how they always act?" Shiver down her spine. She smiled, because she could recognize that voice anywhere. Heard it thousand times in the morning, in the middle of a busy day and on too many late night phone call to count. She turned her head slightly only to find him standing right behind her, his head now resting on her shoulder.

"Hi, muppet," he continued as he wrapped his hands around her, hugging her from behind. "I'm sorry I am a little late. Turbulences held us up."

The two stood there, as young lovers would. Completely wrapped in their own world.

"Did they? I completely lost track, as you see, big problems over here," she said and pointed inconspicuously to the couple still bickering about glasses. It wasn't technically true, she managed to get her phone out every other minute as they were unpacking stuff. But that was too embarrassing to admit.

She finally turned around to give him a welcome kiss, a much needed physical contact after not seeing him for almost three weeks. "Do you think we could take a walk around the garden? I would to get my head clear before facing other people," he said sheepishly. The last few race weekends had been very tough on him.

"I would be more than happy," she replied with a smile.

The scenery was too good to be true. Never ending fields of trees, heavy air sitting on the top of everyone trying to breathe and smell of hot soil and dried leaves cut though it all. They walked hand in hand in silence for a while, the sound of cracking branches accompanying them with every step. These two had spoken a lot in the past few weeks, every day it was either a phone call of few videos shared mapping their separate days. Texting was not good enough for these two. Lando was pretty much touch starved. Even though he was touched by random people more than an average person would be, as some fans felt like it was ok to do so. It made him miss the consensual touch he shared with his girlfriend more than ever. Girlfriend was an interesting word, felt outdated for the feelings he had for her. A small box had been accompanying him whenever he saw her for a while now. But he figured that highjacking someone else's wedding with his own proposal was a bit rude and selfish. He was grateful that this time he did not bring the box with him, as he was not sure he'd be able to resist proposing when he saw how the light reflected from her hair made it all shine, like a fresh jar of honey. A white dress would definitely suit her and his last name as well. He knew she'd want to keep her maiden name too and was more than fine with that. But to add "Norris" behind it was his ultimate goal.

"You seem more quiet than usual," she asked after a moment, being more than capable of reading his face. He was slowly letting go of his stress from the races.

"I'm loosing myself in the thoughts about your dress," he replied cheekily, letting her think he is talking about the teal summer dress she was wearing at the moment.

"Are you, now?" she winked and pulled her dress up slightly, only stopping at her bikini line.

"Oh, you can't do that to me," he said, defeated.

"You sure?" She stopped walking, came closer to him and put her arm around his neck. "But it's been so long since you've touched me," she added, knowing this will set him off. Teasing and seducing him was like a second language to her. She god real close and rubbed her core against his crotch.

"You're asking for trouble, Ms....Y/L/N," he nearly had a Freudian slip there. He panicked slightly and decided to kiss her immediately. She didn't seem to notice. Once he calmed down a bit he slid his hand down to he legs and the went back up to cup her ass and pulling her dress up again. "I would have you right here and now," he mumbled into their kiss and she smiled. Absolutely in love.

"We'll have to wait until the evening, we have a very nice room..."

"I don't care about that, I want to cum into you right here and now," he continued and bit her upper lip lightly.

"Anyone could walk by," she kept resisting.

"As if I care."

She laughed and broke their kiss. "We have to go now. I still have to help the poor bride with the decorations."

He signed overly dramatically. "You are making my life a living hell, Y/N."

"You can punish me later," she ended and got out of his embrace and started heading back to the estate. "Come on," she instructed as Lando watched her ass as she walked away. Norris. It's going to suit her.

Evening marked shared laughter, catching up with many friends, local wine with cheese and hands held under the table. Only once it was really happening did Y/N started to notice how much she needed this. Being able to "show" Lando off to her friends for longer than a short appearance. They got to finally know him, not only listen to stories about him. Oh and he was marvelous that evening. Charming, funny, criminally handsome - and always by her side. He was happy to be there. One of the reason being finally able to listen to the people she spoke about, but also to let loose and not have to think about what he says. These were no sponsors, interviewers or teammates. He loved that they cared about her more than him. It was a nice change. And he was on board with that, enjoying the fact that she was the star and not him.

The wedding day had swung by in a blur and suddenly, Y/N and Lando were sitting in a small local chapel, watching her friends making a mark on their relationship.

But Lando was not watching them. He was watching his now girlfriend. With the sight he had in the corner of his eye, the thoughts hanging in the back of his mind were getting louder and louder.

The ceremony was a non serious and cheerful one, the priest making many jokes while still keeping the atmosphere together. As far as ceremonies go, this was an honest one. The only thing to bring people out the holy romantic vibe this gave off was an unapologetically explicit kiss the bride and groom shared as they got wed. It was more like watching drunk teenagers make out. Some people laughed, some people cheered and the rest were slightly mortified. Y/N was one of the people to turn their heads away from the sight, she had known this girl ever since they were kids, this was a little too much. Lando found her reaction amusing, as he had heard many stories of her and her friend to know that she'd witnessed way more extreme things. "Look at you, prude," he whispered to her ear as he watched the bride and groom fight with their tongues.

"I refuse to accept this," Y/N said, keeping it up with the grandmas in the room.

"Well, if this repulses you, then I'm afraid you're going to die of embarrassment at our wedding," he said as if it was no big deal. But to Y/N it was. They had joked about marriage few times, but Lando used a different tone of voice this time. But she had been secretly dreaming about it for a while now.

"You're going to have tie me down if you're planning on doing that," she said, pointing at the pair, not quite sure how to process that he was probably thinking about their marriage too.

"So far, you've never said no to my plans," he winked at her.

Y/N smiled and turned her eyes to the ground. If someone had asked why she smiled so much, she'd say it was because of her friend's wedding. Though it would only be one half of the truth. She held his hand, as they walked out of the church. For some reason, it almost felt like a rehearsal.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #meet cute #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

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cthonic-bunny · 11 months

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1. personal synastry and composite experiences and observations

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Sun in 8th house synastry: I was the house person they were the sun. I definitely developed insecurities I never had before as a result of this connection. With the sun shining brightly on my insecurities, they were hard to ignore and even harder to not project them entirely on the sun. A lot of “you did this to me!” energy. I didn’t consider myself a jealous person until this relationship and a lot of it came from wanting to be “good enough” in the eyes of the sun person. It’s like knowing you have these darker aspects in common and wanting them to see you can bond this way and see them in a way no one can. You also end up pushing limits together. You liked this? Now WE love this. You’re addicted to that? Now WE are addicted to it. Moderation is hard to achieve with sun in the 8th house synastry. It can also bring up insecurities surrounding sex with that person specifically, if poorly aspected. Explosive reactions and emotional outbursts aren’t foreign here. The house person can feel like a vampire being sunburned, with all its ugliness revealing itself from its body because of its interaction with this person. The 8H person wants a full, in-depth analysis of the sun person’s thoughts, intentions, and motivations. The plutonic energy wants to completely envelop the sun, compulsively in some cases, to know WHY they are the way they are, and why the sun presents themselves in certain ways. This is especially true if the sun person did something to hurt the 8H person, who can feel it more than is rational. The 8H person can really struggle with getting over any emotional harm or feelings of abandonment that come from the sun person. The 8H person can potentially resent the sun person for not being able to read them as intently as they could read the sun person. The sex, if and once insecurities are worked through, can bring you so much closer to one another and to yourself. I also feel like any disturbances or intimacy problems between you two can easily be felt by others or there can be blow ups in front of people you know, because the sun is a planet that illuminates wherever the light lands, whether you like it or not. Avoid public fights, because you will kiss and makeup but the damage in other people’s eyes will be done and opinions will be made. The 8H person might be able to see through any facade the sun person puts up, and this could lead to deep discussions that could be extremely healing for the Sun who might have to work through some things. The 8H person can also teach the sun person how to make more money and maybe even encourage them to start their own business. They can be known as a couple that makes a lot of money together. The sun person can also give sugar daddy/mommy vibes and the 8H the sugar baby, even if it neither one of the people involved are rich-rich. This is a highly binding placement. You two might find it difficult or even impossible to separate from each other even if the relationship has run its natural course. You guys are known as the couple that is “stuck” to one another.

Moon in 5th house synastry: *weird* but, for those who have this placement with a significant other, do you love to smell their body odor? I think in the house of children and fertility, it makes sense to love your partner’s pheromones. Something as weird as the smell of their armpits or stinky feet becomes comforting, idk?? This house is also really fun, and you can get a lot of emotional fulfillment out of acting like children together. 5H is ruled by Leo, so I also found that we had a lot of fun putting on “shows” for one another, and sort of making up our own characters and accents to make the other giggle. People are also really excited for the prospect of us having children together, and you’ll have friends volunteering to babysit or be the godparent of your unborn children LOL. Dressing up nice and going out on dates to somewhere with a great ambiance can be a great way to feel connected. Sharing perfume, or gifting each other perfumes or colognes. Loving the scents they wear. Same taste in candles? Candles as gifts. Lots of watching TV together? Having “shows” that feel wrong to watch without the other. Being called pretty by the other means a lot, and being pretty in each other’s eyes makes you feel good.

Moon in 12th house synastry: 12H synastry tends to have an awful reputation, and I get it when it’s a relationship that isn’t meant for you. However, my moon falls in my best friend’s 12H, and it is one of my favorite placements of ours. We have a telepathic connection where we can just look at the other and know what’s up. You preemptively know what will bother the other person and find it hard to understand how other people wouldn’t have assumed that thing would annoy your person. You understand each other’s motives, and can provide the ultimate shoulder to cry on or ear to listen with. When it’s a new interaction it can feel a bit intense, because how are you in my head!!! I feel like you can read my thoughts! It was like that for the both of us. It’s like, when together, both our consciousnesses transported to another realm where we are mutually perceiving something and our thoughts are being put on a radio for the other to listen to. Very spiritual relationship. You KNOW the vibes, and those feelings will be verified through the other person who already felt the same. She will never be wrong in my eyes and I will defend her to the death. We don’t even have to speak on certain days, but we can feel whatever mood the other one is in and check-up on each other accordingly. Whenever we have a strange dream or nightmare, the first thing we do is text each other and try to analyze what it could mean. I as the 12H person also dreamt of us becoming best friends before we formally met. The dreams i would have of her would always be loaded with spiritual symbolism. We also grew up with the same level of emotional attachment to our personal spiritualities and shared religion, which plays a large role in our understandings of one another. Most people just won’t get it, but she always will. She could read my crazy journal entries if she wanted to. 12H moon synastry is just unconditional love. Between friends at least, it feels like a long-lost twin connection. Also, her and I had gotten matching tattoos before we even knew of each other, both of them being for the same spiritual meaning!

Composite Mars in 3rd house: Lots of talking during sex, and lots of car sex— It might sometimes feel like that’s the easiest thing to talk about, or the conversation always steers to that direction. Sending nudes? Sexting. Maybe the only way you two could engage your sexual desire for one another is through sexting, because distance might not permit the full physical expression. If you don’t have a lot of experience knowing the other’s communication style, it can lead to a bit of random defensiveness or perceiving the other as communicating abrasively. I think it can lead to one trying to get reactions out of the other by saying something out of pocket.

Composite Mercury in 12th house: Pay attention to the dreams you have of this person! They will seriously tell you a lot about your dynamic, but don’t take them at face value! Lots of mystical elements to your dreams about them specifically, so maybe reviewing tarot card meanings and astrology concepts can help you decipher the meanings of your dreams. You might find it easier than expected to confide in each other or rant about your brain’s inner workings together. “I don’t know why I’m saying all that-“ or psychoanalyzing each other for fun. Talking about your less-than-desirable attributes. Being honest about your deceptive tendencies or specific lies you’ve told and why. Oversharing things that will usually make other people uncomfortable in the same context (like talking about your exes or failed situationships on a first date). Difficulties communicating when it’s not in person because it leaves too much room for confusion. Deceit is a real possibility though, with someone voluntarily “leaving out details” about their life outside of the relationship to avoid ruining the flow of energy or the dynamic. Having each other saved on your phones under fake names. Having to hide that you’re talking to this person from other people. One of you withdrawing communication to manipulatively make the other think about you more. Taking turns being each other’s therapist. Thinking about each other often but never expressing that, or the extent to which you think of one another. Thinking about the other at night before going to bed. “I started catching feelings for the girl that I’m currently having sex with, so it’s safe to say we don’t talk anymore, unless of course we’re having sex” in Sasquatch .22 by Bay Faction.

Composite Venus in 12th house: There really is a secretive component to this interaction that can feel impossible to bypass. Your family, friends, or society might not “approve” of you two together. One or both of you can be cheating on someone with this person. Only being able to meet up or be affectionate at night or in extremely private settings. The privacy of the relationship can help you open up a lot more than you’d expect to, because there’s no one but you two to perceive the other in this context. No judgments on how you two should behave with one another, so “let’s fully enjoy the moment while it lasts.” No one understanding your interaction or it’s purpose, and you probably don’t understand it either. Sending telepathic love notes. Longing. Intimate and romantic sex that haunts you or catches you off guard. Never wanting to be the first one to admit you’ve caught feelings. Ruining your sleep schedule to spend time with one another. Dreaming about romantically linking with them before it ever happens. Withdrawing once feelings start feeling real. The song “Lips of Angel” by Hinder reminds me of Composite Venus in 12H. “Illicit Affairs,” “August,” and “False God” by Taylor Swift. “Why Can’t I?” by Liz Phair. Gato de Noche by Bad Bunny. Sex by The 1975.

Lilith in 8th house synastry: Wanting to try things sexually with this person that wasn’t necessarily exciting with other partners. “You can do whatever you want to me, and I’ll let you.” Possibly experimenting with or preferring BDSM with one another. That Lana lyric that’s like: You fucked me so good that I almost said “I love you.” It might also be controversial if people knew you’ve had sex with one another. Revenge sex? As in, you two having sex might indirectly be spiting someone else, and it kind of feels like you’re dishing out delicious karma on a surprising silver platter— “lol if only they knew” You two might have fun misbehaving together. Doing what you both know you’re not supposed to be doing can make everything feel better, and even more reason to keep doing what you’re doing. Lana Del Rey in Diet Mountain Dew: “you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.” Wanting to be dangerous together. “Leave me bruised so I can’t forget you.” “Seeing you tonight is a bad idea, right?” This placement somewhat reminds me of a union between the death card and the devil card in tarot, with an emphasis on risk-stained sexual liberation. You can become symbolic of temptation in each other’s lives, so it’s hard to deny your impulses. Toxic by Britney Spears.

-D 🖤🕯

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kaciidubs · 11 months

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for the LOVE of me… i cannot stop thinking about polyOT8! skz x fem reader where they have a bulge kink 🤭 Lee know and Reader were caught on the sofa whilst the others were finishing up at jyp and then it hit the boys.. there was a visible bulge in your abdomen where minho was BURRIED inside of you (you were basically fucking like rabbits and the boys kinda joined in afterwards) 😽🫶🏻

Darling, OT8 x Reader is my bread and butter, I shit you not - and pair it with exhibitionism/voyeurism? You're out to kill me, I'm convinced.

You were never more grateful for owning so many throw blankets, or else you'd be the main reason why the couch cleaning market skyrocketed.

"M-Minho! Fuck, right there!"

Your hands twisted into the soft cotton, knuckles turning white as your body rocked against the covered cushions.

Above you hovered one of your eight boyfriends, face glistening with sweat and black hair messily swept back - his annoyance with it getting in his face was palpable the minute you two started your little fuck-fest.

His face lit up an a maniacal grin, tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his lips, "Right there? Tch, you're saying that as if I don't already know where all your spots are - such a bold little kitten." A breathless chuckle escaped from him as he hiked your right leg higher on his chest, keeping your left straddled between his own muscular thighs. "Since you think I don't know what I'm doing, maybe I shouldn't let you come again, hm?"

Your pussy clenched at the prospect, mind reeling at the thought of being left dry after so, so many highs. "No! Please, please don't, I'll-"

"You'll what?" He challenged, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, "You'll go crazy without having a cock to keep you full? You'll seek out our other partners and beg them to finish what you started?"

Your eyes rolled, body writhing as much as it could in his vice grip, keeping you pinned and open for anyone to see - for anyone to observe the way you were diminished to nothing but a hole for him to use.

"Finish what she started, huh?"

The new voice brought you back to yourself, your gaze focusing on Changbin walking into the living room with Seungmin and Jeongin in hot pursuit. Soon, the space was filled with each of your significant others, crowding around the couch where Minho was - still - driving into you as if nothing had changed.

"You got him all riled up again, huh, princess?" Chris cooed, amusement evident on his face.

"Princess?" Minho scoffed, hooking your leg into the crook of his arm and using his thumb to rub tight circles around your swollen clit, "She's been a brat - thinks what she says goes. I wonder why."

Before either one of them could comment, Hyunjin hissed out a short breath, "Fuck, look at her." To which Felix and Han followed up with a choked gasp of their own. "Holy shit."

Even through your delirium, you could see that his eyes weren't focused on your face - no, they were currently trained on where you and Minho were connected, and it didn't click until you snaked a hand down to your abdomen to feel a difference.

Fucking hell.

On each rough inward thrust, you could feel the shape of Minho's dick bulge against your abdomen and press against the lower part of your stomach.

"Noona, your hand," Jeongin whined, coaxing you into moving your hand back to it's previous position with a sobbed moan.

"Min- Min- I'm gonna-"

"Come for me," he gritted, rutting his hips against yours until your body shook, coming with a sound you could only hope was an attractive moan to say the least.

It took some time for you to come back to your senses, and when you did you were met with the guys in various stages of undress - a new wave of heavy lust dampening the atmosphere.

Blinking up at the second eldest, your eyebrows furrowed, "Min?"

Chuckling softly, he nodded knowingly at your tone, "I finished too, kitten - now, how about we let the others have a go, hm?"

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely ihrtlix #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #OT8 x reader #skz ot8 smut #Poly! OT8 x Reader #Poly! SKZ

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realstrap · 9 months

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Please help my partner, a black multiply disabled lesbian, get their autonomy back!

‼️URGENT ACTION NEEDED IN 48 HOURS ‼️

01/03/2024

my partner @800-dick-pics is a multiply disabled black lesbian in need of urgent funds for a service dog and the costs associated with travel!!

This is all so sudden and short notice, they happened upon this prospect while doing research and it fell into their lap, a puppy in a breed with the best temperament and size for their mobility needs. This is opportunity is huge for the independence of my fiancé.

For years now, my fiancé has been fighting with the medical system, I've seen them struggle to be believed by doctors due to medical racism, turned away and ignored at the ER, gaslight by ED clinics and multiple times I've physically caught them when they've passed out during a POTS episode. Their POTS EDS and CFS have rendered them housebound in this past year, unable to leave the house by themselves and it's gotten to the point where we both are afraid for their safety when they're alone in any capacity. I worry for them so greatly when I have to leave them for more than 20 minutes at a time because anything could happen.

This has been years in the making, even before we were together even. We've had to put this on hold for countless reasons throughout the years and at this point it can no longer be put off for the sake of my fiance' autonomy independence and quality of life. They're tired of not being able to hold a job or go out with friends or even just experience life outside of the walls of the house. This is incredibly important and this is our chance to change their life forever.

We need to meet this goal THIS WEEK, to be able to secure this opportunity including flight tickets, hotel room, training toys for the dog and food

We would not be asking if it wasn't so urgent, this can't be put on hold and all my fiance wants is to have a life again. Please help us if you're able, this opportunity means the world to my partner!

CA: $sleepyhen

VM: wildwotko

DM me for p@y pal

$0/2600 goal

#sorry we are poor #they got back to us super quick and were ready to do business immediately so the past 24 hrs have been nerve wracking!!#all i want is to see my partner thrive and be happy and get back to the things they love #please this is important

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lilacxquartz · 3 months

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JJK x READER | JEALOUSY

a collection of reader insert scenarios in which the jjk characters are faced with the daunting prospect of dealing with jealousy around you.

w.c: each piece is under 700 words but there’s a lot of characters to get through :)

themes: fem!reader, mostly fluff, some nsfw mentions but light

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, shoko ieiri, yuki tsukumo and our chaotic special guests: sukuna, uraume & kenjaku.

mdni • semi nsfw • ao3 link

—

Satoru Gojo:

Usually self assured and confident within all parameters of the relationship, Satoru had very little to worry about when it came to being with you.

Besides, just by being with him alone was the highest possible praise you could have ever given the guy.

So, when faced with the topic of jealousy, he would at oftentimes simply just push the subject away and it would never even have a chance to spiral. Maybe at best he’d ask you for some validation and you’d indulge him in a stream of compliments to feed his longing ego.

But it never got too bad.

Lately, however, there had been someone that he wasn’t too particularly fond of trying to get closer to you. It wasn’t your fault, you were simply just too nice.

Of course someone got the wrong idea and of course you were too oblivious to see what was wrong.

Truth be told, Satoru thought you wouldn’t do anything that would make him worry but just the person’s existence alone left him with a sour taste in his mouth when he thought about them.

His initial reaction bordered irrational and he suddenly became clingier when he texted you which was reflected to an extent when he spent time with you. He wanted much more validation and reassurance than usual because he wanted to be told exactly what you love about him and why.

Still, the strange person persisted, but rather than admitting that he was actually jealous of someone he knew that couldn’t even hold a candle to him, he decided to go all out.

Hitting his peak jealousy, he booked you a trip somewhere special. Sure, in your mind it might come across as out of place and even spontaneous, but you wouldn’t be mad. See, he knew exactly what types of places you’d like to go, keeping a mental note or any time you’ve had your eyes glued to your screen with wonder and as it turned out—he had the means to justify a trip to anywhere.

Confusion was what came to mind when you woke up to your overly optimistic boyfriend who subtly slipped a plane ticket into your hand while fast asleep. He next handed over your passport, your eyes warily following his own to land on a seemingly packed suitcase sitting by the bedroom door.

Poor you, Satoru didn’t even give you enough time to react to it all.

Yet there you were, already flying high in the sky in one of the clan jets half asleep.

Eventually it all hit you though and you asked what brought this on.

Satoru being Satoru fed a non-serious answer, laughing to himself that now so-and-so can’t get close to you which was right when you understood that the fool was actually acting out of jealousy all along.

Satoru was good to you though, even if he was excessive at times so you just rolled with it.

Making sure to fuck the worry right out of his head as soon as you arrived in the hotel room.

Suguru Geto:

Jealousy was something that Suguru never could quite overcome. It was ingrained into his personality at this point to protect what was his. He didn’t like sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike putting their eyes on you, staring at you as if they had a chance.

Wanting to stay in your good graces though, he reluctantly swallowed his insecurities away when he started getting serious with you and for the most part, trust prevailed.

You were his ideal partner and the girls loved you.

Those two little things painted you as perfection in his eyes and he would never stray away from you.

Speaking realistically, Suguru knew that he didn’t have a single thing to worry about with you. He treated you very well and wasn’t subtle about how much he loved you.

Still, he kept seeing you hang out with someone new. Keeping up the appearances with the cult often meant putting on a show and even if your persona was fabricated, he hated how the person in question was starting to look at you the same way he did.

In fact, it was infuriating.

His initial solution was to give into madness and simply feed this person to one of his cursed spirits before he realised that such an action would very likely upset you. His next solution would have been to warn (likely rough up) the person in question that they were on thin ice, but you wouldn’t like that either.

Instead, similar to Satoru, he would simply avert your focus from the suspect and redirect your attention onto him instead.

One particular night when the girls were asleep and a trusted ally was on the way over to babysit, he swooped in right behind you as you were getting changed for the night. His arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you close while his chin rested on your shoulder.

He whispered your name while leaving a trail of purposefully visible hickeys on your neck, making his claim on you obvious to anyone who dared look.

Caught off guard but not disliking it, you asked what brought all this on and Suguru who liked to be a man of few words during moments like these, replied that he just wanted to take you out tonight and show you off to the world.

While walking to the car however, he did confess his building concerns though, knowing that you wouldn’t be mad, maybe even find this whole mess funny.

That he simply didn’t like how close someone was trying to get to you, that he didn’t like that someone truly thought that they had a chance with you.

Planting him a deep kiss onto his cheek, you joked that if it meant more date nights then maybe it wasn’t so bad, especially with what you had planned later.

So in his riled up state of mind, his demeanour tightened.

Maybe it didn’t hurt to sometimes give into jealousy.

At least every now and then.

Kento Nanami:

Kento prided himself for being very connected to a logical approach with pretty much everything. He enjoyed listening to you and adjusting his behaviour to what he felt you needed from him while also being genuine about it.

As your long term partner, his number one goal was to ensure that all of your needs were being met and he took that very seriously.

Jealousy wasn’t ever an issue he explored as a result. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel it, in fact, he thought a little bit of it was healthy every now and then—but he simply just didn’t dwell on the subject, knowing that he had nothing to worry about.

Trust was a big part of a relationship, after all.

Yet, he couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling that you might have been getting a bit too friendly with someone he disliked. He knew that realistically you were as faithful as they come and even worrying would be silly of him to do, but this irrational feeling wasn’t subsiding.

It was festering and it made him feel bad.

Wanting to set a good example on how to approach the topic of jealousy however, his first course of action was to catch you at a good moment. Right after dinner, he cleared the table for you and did the dishes, choosing to bring up the subject when he joined you on the sofa.

He wanted for you to take it slightly seriously though, so he asked for you to please humour him with his predicament.

You agreed to his terms because Kento was good to you and you wanted to hear him out whenever he had a problem. He wouldn’t be so serious all of a sudden if something was actually up and as a good girlfriend, you wanted to be there for him.

It was the right thing to do.

He started off saying that maybe it’s nothing, but, you’ve been getting a bit too friendly with someone he doesn’t have the best opinion of and he knows it’s not fair to put this on you, but he’s just unsure of how to feel when he sees you with someone like that.

Acting just a little too friendly.

He made sure to let you know that he wasn’t accusing you of anything though, that he knew it was all irrational, but he just couldn’t help it.

He was human, too.

Of course though, you were quick to reassure him. Right away in fact. It wasn’t that you were defensive, it was just that you found it almost endearing to see your usually serious boyfriend get worked up over something so simple.

Nanami sighed as this all happened, knowing it was silly to think his relationship was ever threatened to begin with.

Just to keep on your good side though, he didn’t see the harm in sometimes indulging at least a little in his feelings every now and then. Maybe sometimes he’d get you flowers arranged in a vase for you to find or he would take you somewhere nice when he had the time. Maybe he’d give you a massage or get you that necklace you’ve been eyeing up at the shop window every time you walked right past.

Just to see you smile, really.

Just to never give you a reason to doubt his devotion to you.

Choso Kamo:

You were technically Choso’s first and only ever girlfriend as he never quite had the opportunity to explore relationships before he met you. In fact, the very idea that you went from being just friends to him to being your actual boyfriend was a miracle in his eyes.

Both of you approached the subject of even the slightest form of intimacy very carefully. You found it very sweet personally, while he still carried some insecurity with it, wondering if you wanted more from him sooner than he was ready to give it.

He wanted to take his time with you, after all.

He wanted every single milestone to feel special, even if it was just your first kiss shared together or the first time he held your hand.

To him, every inch of you was incredible and although he did his best to not actually stare at you (and all night if he could get away with it), he couldn’t help but overthink every little thing that had ever happened in your relationship with him.

He sure did his best to not come across as too intense, though.

He’d always be as gentle as possible with you while being as kind as possible. He knew that he struggled with showing his emotions properly due to the side of him that wasn’t fully human, but he took extra care to show you how he always felt.

Despite this, he didn’t know exactly how to react when he saw you with somebody that he wasn’t too fond of. It felt like a deep punch to the gut and an irrational thought crept into his mind, daring to challenge the idea that you could be stolen away.

Choso in turn was accidentally upfront about it, straight up asking you if you liked someone else that wasn’t him, immediately regretting asking you such a thing the longer that the question hung in the air.

You were quick to comfort his concerns though, giving him a whole grand speech about how nobody on this earth could compare and how you’d never let him go.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough.

As his feelings ate him up from the inside, he found himself obsessing over every little thing that you did while being perhaps what could be interpreted as paranoid. Overbearing, even. For example, when you got up to use the bathroom in your shared home and he freaked out about you leaving, you knew that something was up.

Curiously, you poked and prodded until you got to the bottom of it all; finding that it was jealousy at fault all along. Again. While finding it somewhat absurd with how he reacted, you were forgiving with him.

He was still figuring out how to process emotions properly. He was still learning.

Your solution was simple enough; to give him some reassurance sealed with a kiss for every single worry that he had.

And as it turned out, it was going to be a long night.

Shoko Ieiri:

Shoko was never one for jealousy or petty discourse, knowing that the best way to settle any sort of relationship doubt was to push through by simply being a good partner rather than overthinking every little blip.

For one, she knew that you loved her because you always showed her that. You wouldn’t be going the extra mile with everything that you did if you didn’t, that much would be silly.

Every morning you’d prep her coffee the exact way she liked it and would even set extra alarms on your phone to make sure she had absolutely no chance of snoozing through her own.

You’d give her incredible head after long and draining night shifts, being sure to match her sleep schedule because you worked from home and could do just that.

You even kept a bottle of her favourite red stashed in the cupboard at all times, just in case she really needed a drink.

No, she’s never been worried about you.

However, lately… there has been an annoyance, to put it lightly.

It wasn’t that she had a reason to doubt you, but maybe it was her own doing? She didn’t want to think it, but it made some sense in her head.

Someone had been getting too cosy with you and it’s been rubbing her the wrong way. Initially, she blamed herself for it. She had been stuck at work for two weeks straight and her main concern was that she might have been neglecting the relationship, pushing you away unintentionally.

In an attempt to smooth things over and to secure an eternal place in your heart, she told her employer to stuff it and took a mandatory Friday night off to surprise you early.

She did everything correctly; picking up drinks, snacks and a takeaway from that place you both really liked. She even had a movie in mind for you both to snuggle up to all night.

Confused as to what brought this all on, you asked her if she was feeling okay. To this, she simply shrugged while maintaining her calm and collected demeanour, claiming that work was slow anyway and she could be doing much better things on her Friday night; like spending time with you.

Shoko did consider bringing up the topic of jealousy up again but just seeing you almost crying due to the sight of her being sweet alone because she had managed to touch you with her words was evidence enough.

She never needed to worry in the first place.

And she felt silly for doing so.

Yuki Tsukumo:

To date Yuki was to date the embodiment of chaos itself.

She was a handful most of the time, but that’s exactly what you loved about her. You were a quiet person yourself and being with her challenged you.

Yuki offered you excitement in ways because she actually encouraged you to live life for what it was, rather than to remain all cooped up inside all of the time.

She’d oftentimes whisk you all around the country on the back of her motorcycle, daring for you to hold on tighter. You learned to love camping by her side, finding that there was nothing more truly romantic and beautiful than waking up to your girlfriend basking bare in the sunrise.

Everything was perfect.

Yet, when Yuki caught a glimpse of a text on your phone, she wasn’t quite sure how to feel exactly.

Momentarily she felt guilty for two reasons.

One, she snooped. Two, did she do something wrong?

Who was this mysterious person that you were calling cute and why were you saying that you couldn’t wait to meet her?

Convinced you were hiding something, Yuki decided to ask you straight up what the issue was. She waltzed over to you while you were cooking up breakfast (eggs on toast for two), asking what exactly what you were up to because you were being a little too cryptic for her liking.

Caught off guard but completely understanding of her concerns, you decided to spill the beans on what was supposed to be a surprise.

You asked her if she remembered giving her the green light to finally get a dog for their adventures.

Yuki froze in response, but she could finally see where this was all going. Her face flushed. Oh, what a fool she must have sounded like just now.

Turns out, you were looking for a puppy for the two of you to raise but you managed to find a very sweet rescue from a shelter nearby. You wanted to approach the subject of going to see it together, but you couldn’t help but sneak a visit by yourself to meet the sweet girl.

Yuki held onto her serious gaze for just a moment before she burst out laughing, repeating a mantra of “of course” and “I should have known” over and over again.

Obviously you wouldn’t cheat on her.

It really was that simple.

Sukuna:

By some miracle, you ended up not only surviving an audience with the alleged King of Curses himself, but you also managed to garner just enough interest from him to enter a relationship with him.

Not that he gave you much of an option to refuse such an offer though. Your very first date with him entailed him showing up right outside the front door of your apartment, snatching you away in your pyjamas to a secluded spot somewhere in the mountains.

If you were to be completely honest, you thought that you were going to die the first few times you were carried off somewhere by him.

But that was a worry you reluctantly pushed aside the longer that time went on.

Sukuna had his good moments, after all. It was a little alarming at first with how blunt he was and how quickly he switched from brutal honesty to a joking mood about something so seemingly unserious, but you did try your best to keep up.

Sukuna liked this about you, that you were willing to adapt.

He also took care of you, at least in his own excessive way. Sometimes it would be something innocent and simple like making sure you took good care of your body and at other times, it bordered irrational when he purged half of your closest because the fabric that was allowed to touch your skin could only come from the finest cloth.

Sometimes, his care bordered insane too. You shuddered when you thought back to the look on your landlord’s face when he pulled his last stunt. Installing high security prison levels of surveillance over your apartment just to ensure that nobody could even look in your direction without there being evidence of such a thing.

So, when you were assigned to work with someone new at your job, he immediately didn’t like them. Usually, he didn’t care about such trivial matters, but this guy clearly thought he had a chance with you? The audacity.

It was pathetic, even.

If only the poor sucker knew that you were already taken by the man from his nightmares though.

Rather than addressing the issue in a healthy way, he decided to skip right ahead of time and simply… dispose of the person in question. He arranged for Uraume to tackle the threat however they preferred, as long as their presence could never be felt within the immediate vicinity again.

This sort of behaviour was unfortunately doomed to repeat however many times it took and every time that it did, he would be sure to give you a night in bed that you would be foolish to forget; to remind you of your place in his life again and again.

That through it all, you were his and his alone.

Uraume:

Life with Uraume was simple but fulfilling. While they were work oriented and took their role very much seriously, they were still fiercely loyal to you; the only other person (Sukuna) who could truly understand them.

It didn’t really take much for you to make their day. Even just sitting in silence with them after a long shift as they laid their head in your lap, your fingernails lightly massaging their scalp was the definition of heaven to them.

Or even just things like talking about your day was enough, no matter how mundane. It was never a chore to listen to the sound of your voice.

Uraume was particular, after all. They craved closeness but only with you, claiming that your touch was the answer to all of life’s problems.

One particular night, they were pardoned from work earlier than usual and had a night off for a change. So imagine their combined confusion and surprise when you weren’t home for once.

Alarm bells rang in their head and upon texting you (calls were still a work in progress, they didn’t like them too much), just to see where you were, they found that they didn’t like the answer at all.

You replied that you were with a friend just watching a movie, but you didn’t know that they had a night off that day but you’ll be back soon enough.

Uraume didn’t reply to you, feeling something strange boil away from the pit of their stomach. They knew that you were more sociable than them and had more friends, but something stung about how casual you were.

It was like you cared more about your friends than them?

Even if they didn’t give you a heads up about their earlier arrival, it still felt bad to know you could just easily spend time with someone else.

When you finally made your way home, Uraume hadn’t eaten a single thing and was left simmering away with irritable hunger from the moment you walked back inside.

Treating you initially coldly, they made sure to point out exactly where you went wrong.

Just watching a movie? But that’s something you did with them too. Next you’d be saying that you were going to treat your friends to dinner or that you were going to go on trips abroad with them.

You knew them too well, though. Thawing past Uraume’s icy exterior wasn’t an issue for you and you knew just how they could get.

Your reaction as a result was to sit right by them, pulling them close as they reluctantly obliged. You would indeed justify your right to treat your friends well, but you would also remind them that yes, while you do watch movies with them too, you don’t however hold their hands during such things the same way. You don’t pet their hair while they’re cuddling up against you, because that’s something special.

You tried to explain to the best of your ability that there are ways to platonically spend time with your friends in a way that could never compare to the intimacy that you shared with them.

Something that couldn’t be replicated nor replaced.

So please to not worry.

And so, reluctantly accepting such a response, Uraume would indeed slowly melt at your words just because you had no reason to lie about such a thing.

What you had was special and you wouldn’t do that with anyone else.

You loved each other and that’s just how it was always going to be.

Kenjaku:

By some bizarre turn of fate, you ended up becoming entangled in what must have been the strangest relationship of your entire life.

Kenjaku wasn’t entirely dishonest with you in your time dating him, surprisingly. But he did find your judgement to at least be a little questionable the longer you kept tolerating him and his antics.

It was straight up almost concerning to him when you accepted the grand reveal of his great plans or when he informed you that he was nothing more than a brain in a suit. Not even the mention of his true age could shake you.

The reality was that you were mostly… fascinated. You never met someone like him before and every single day with him felt like something straight out of an old Scooby Doo episode because he was almost comically villain-like, always going off on long and elaborate speeches about something strange.

Aside from that, he was fine. At least somewhat.

He went out of his way to have a very… specific sort of relationship with you. In some ways, he reminded you of a crow or maybe a magpie, with the way he always left behind strange trinkets to find, just to study your reaction.

Sometimes he’d announce intricate facts about yourself that you didn’t even know and at other times, things would go missing from your apartment, leaving you wondering if they had ever existed at all.

He simply thought that you were a peculiar person and he enjoyed pushing you to your limit just to see just how far he could go with you.

One thing did come to bother him though.

It was when you befriended someone that in his eyes, he considered to be extremely boring.

You see, he only allowed himself to indulge in a romantic relationship with you because you were interesting to him. People like you were rare and this era managed to bless someone like you within his close proximity. As a result, he was going to keep you around if he could help it.

The idea of you investing your time into someone completely boring though? He wasn’t having it.

Much like Sukuna, he wouldn’t even ask you about the person in question. Instead, he’d take matters into his own hands but not before having some fun with it all.

So after sending you on a long and elaborate scavenger hunt to keep you busy for the day, he’d snatch up the person who was getting a little too suspiciously close to you for his liking. He’d lure them in through dubious means( like a trap and then ponder exactly what he would do with them once they took the bait.

Admittedly, he didn’t plan that far ahead.

Unlike the rest of his plans that were actually better thought out, he didn’t have such a luxury when it came to working around his jealousy.

Such an annoying emotion.

Initially he was going to play a strange game of would you rather with the poor sap, increasingly turning the questions into something more and more disturbing by the second but ultimately, he decided that maybe just chasing the guy through the woods with an axe in his hand could be a lot more fun instead.

And should you dare ask or enquire about what happened to your “friend” or whatever relation they had to you, he would do his best to convince you that such a person never existed to begin with.

You needn’t worry about such boring people, after all.

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communicationthroughlyrics · 3 months

Text

Fuck Me Like You Mean It

Your best friend, unable to bear your post-breakup malaise, decides to take action. Despite your deep emotional pain following the betrayal by your ex-girlfriend, and your subsequent withdrawal from life, she believes it's time for you to move on. She suggests a night out to reinvigorate your social life. At the bar, your attention is drawn to a redhead and her brunette partner, whose infectious laughter and captivating dance moves stir feelings of attraction.

TW: smut, intersex r, wandanat, mommy/daddy kink, pretty smutty if i'm honest 18+

Word Count: 4.8k

You looked over at the two of them, Natasha's head on Wanda's shoulder, both of them watching you with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. Wanda's hand slid down to Natasha's stomach, her fingers tracing lazy circles, as Natasha purred contentedly. You felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't just the afterglow of amazing sex; it was the sense of belonging, of being seen and desired.

"You know," Natasha began, her voice a little hoarse from her moaning, "Wanda and I, we have a...a particular way of life. It's not all glamour and parties." She looked at you seriously, her eyes searching yours. "But we're good to each other, we care for each other."

Wanda's hand tightened around Natasha's, and she nodded in agreement. "We are looking for someone to share that with, who can handle us both."

You swallowed hard, feeling both thrilled and terrified by the prospect. "What...what does that mean?" Wanda laughed as your voice cracked in the middle of your sentence.

"It means," she started, her eyes dancing with excitement, "that we like to share our bed, our hearts, and our...adventures." Natasha's hand slid down to Wanda's thigh, squeezing it gently. "But only with someone strong enough to handle us." She winked at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You weren't sure if you were up for this, but the thought of being with these two powerful, alluring women was too tempting to pass up.

"Detka," Wanda started, an enraptured gaze setting into her features. "We know it's... unconventional, and we will date each other separately and together. There is still a lot to learn, but if you would like, we want to extend the offer to you." She paused, her eyes never leaving yours. "To be with us, to be part of us."

You sat there, the words 'dating' and 'us' echoing in your mind. The gravity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. You had just had the most mind-blowing experience of your life with Natasha, and now Wanda was proposing something more. Your heart was racing, your mind trying to piece together the reality of what they were saying. This wasn't just a one-night stand, they were offering you a place in their lives.

Natasha, sensing your slight distress, chimes in. "You were the only one who caught our eyes tonight," she leaned forward, grabbing your hand and rubbing the back of it softly. "And let's face it, you're pretty amazing, from what we've experienced so far." You felt your cheeks flush, your heart skipping a beat. "But," she added, her eyes gleaming with mischief, "you can't just jump into the deep end without knowing how to swim."

Wanda nodded solemnly. "We are not just looking for a plaything, Y/N. We want someone who can stand alongside us, who can handle what we throw at them, and maybe even throw some surprises our way." She leaned in, her breath hot against your cheek. "Can you handle that? We will take it slow, and you have all the power and autonomy to leave if it ever becomes too much."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their proposal. "I...I think so," you murmured, your voice still shaky from the aftershocks of pleasure. "Can we... can we sleep on it?" you asked, still in deep thought about all the information just thrown at you.

Wanda nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Of course," she said, her eyes warm and understanding. "This is a big decision, and we wouldn't want you to make it hastily." Natasha nodded in agreement, her smile just as soft.

Natasha stood, albeit shakily, and you instinctively reached out, catching her as she nearly fell. She giggled, her legs still trembling. "You know, we're not asking you to marry us," she said, her voice light and playful. "But if it's what you want, we're not opposed to it." A contented smile became apparent on Wanda's face, watching you and Natasha interact. Natasha leaned in and quickly pecked at your lips, before regaining her composure and standing on less shaky legs.

Wanda slid off the bed, standing before you in all her naked glory. She held out her hand, and you took it, allowing her to pull you to your feet. "Let's get you cleaned up," she said, her voice still thick with lust. The three of you made your way to a luxurious bathroom, the tiles cold against your bare feet. The room was steamy from a recent shower, and the scent of their combined perfumes lingered in the air.

Natasha turned the shower on, the water cascading down from the rainfall showerhead, creating a soothing sound that filled the room. She stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter first. You stepped under the warm spray, feeling the tension melt from your body as the water washed away the sweat and the residue of your encounter. Wanda followed, her body pressing against yours from behind, her arms wrapping around your waist. Natasha stepped in front of you, her red hair plastered to her face as the water rained down on you both.

Wanda began pecking light kisses across the top of your back and shoulders, before stepping out from behind you and sliding in between you and Natasha. You leaned down slightly, nuzzling into Wanda's neck. The warm water cascaded over the three of you, mixing with the steam to create a cloud around your bodies. Natasha's hands began to explore yours, her soapy fingers gliding over your skin, making you shiver. Wanda's eyes gleamed as she watched, her hand sliding down to caress your cock, which was already beginning to stir again.

Suddenly, thier attention was turned to each other, you left to watch as the pair began to soap each other up, their hands gliding over their bodies in a way that was both erotic and affectionate. The sight of them together was mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but get hard again, watching the suds slide down Natasha's curves and Wanda's strong arms. They giggled, their eyes sparkling with mischief, and you realized that this was what they meant by 'adventures'. They were a package deal, and the thought was both thrilling and slightly intimidating.

Natasha's hand reached out, tugging at your chin to bring your attention back to her. "Don't just stand there, love," she said, her Russian accent thick with seduction. "Join us." And with that, she began to lather your chest, her touch light and teasing. You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you, feeling the tightness in your chest ease as you become one with them under the warm spray.

Wanda's hand slid down Natasha's back, her soapy palm pressing against Natasha's ass, pulling her closer to you. The redhead giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she stepped aside, allowing Wanda to take her place in front of you. "My turn," Wanda murmured, her eyes locked onto yours as she began to lather your chest, her hands moving in circles, her thumbs brushing against your nipples, making them harden. The sensation was exquisite, and you couldn't help but moan, your hands finding Wanda's hips as you pulled her closer. Wanda rose on her toes, placing her lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"I bet you taste so good," she whispered, her breath hot and sweet. You felt Natasha's hand slide down your back, her fingers ghosting over your ass before she stepped closer, her soapy hand caressing your cock, making it throb anew. The sensation of the two of them touching you was overwhelming, and you had to lean against the wall for support. The steam was thick around you, the only sounds were the water hitting the tiles and the soft moans that filled the room. "I want Daddy to put me in my place," she whispered, kissing down your chest as a dangerous glimmer flashed in her eyes.

Wanda dropped to her knees, taking your length in her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. Natasha stepped behind you, her hands sliding around your waist, her breasts pressing against your back. You felt her teeth graze your shoulder, her breathing heavily in your ear. "You're going to love this," she promised, her hands moving to cup your breasts, her thumbs teasing the nipples. You groaned at the feeling of your tip now prodding the back of Wanda's throat, her moaning sending a vibration throughout your body.

The two of them worked in tandem, Natasha's hands on your breasts, Wanda's mouth on your cock, both of them driving you wild with pleasure. The feeling of Natasha's teeth on your neck was a stark contrast to the wet heat of Wanda's mouth, and you couldn't decide which sensation was more intense. Your hands found Natasha's hair, holding her in place as you pushed back into Wanda's throat, feeling her tongue swirl around you. A deep growl came from your chest before you slid your hands away from the redhead behind you and carded through Wanda's now-saturated chestnut locks. You grabbed the back of her head firmly, forcing her down onto your length, her gags filling the shower as Nat moaned behind you.

Wanda's eyes watered, but she didn't pull away, her eyes locked onto yours in a silent challenge. You smirked, pushing her down further, feeling Natasha's hands slide down to grip your ass, helping to drive Wanda's face into your crotch. "Mmm," Natasha murmured, her voice like honey in your ear. "Wanda loves it when you're rough." Wanda's eyes fluttered up to meet yours, and she nodded, her cheeks hollowing out as she took you deeper.

"Oh, does she now?" you growled, looking down at the watery gaze as she peered through her thick eyelashes. You tightened your grip on Wanda's hair, pushing her down even further, feeling Natasha's grip on your hips tighten as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear, her breath hot and moist. "Mommy is gonna learn today, princess," you snarl at Natasha, turning your head to kiss her fiercely. You pull away too soon for Natasha's liking, as Wanda detaches herself from your member.

"Printsessa," Wanda foggily gazed at Natasha. "Now it's my turn, you get to watch, milyy." The way she said it sent a thrill down Natasha's spine, her eyes widening with excitement. You stepped back, watching as Wanda took Natasha's face in her hands, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. You could hear them both whining and moaning, as Natasha's hand snuck down to her heat, circling her clit vigorously.

Wanda broke the kiss and pushed Natasha back against the shower wall, her soapy hands sliding down Natasha's body until they reached her pussy. She pushed Natasha's hand away, replacing it with her own, her thumb rubbing circles around Natasha's clit. Natasha gasped, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. You watched, mesmerized, as Wanda's hand moved faster and faster, Natasha's legs starting to shake. The water was now a mix of soap and desire, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing in the tiles. "Mama will give you this one," Wanda growled at her lover, hitting all the sweet spots she knew would result in Natasha's climax.

Natasha's moans grew louder, her body trembling under Wanda's touch. Her hands grabbed onto the shower wall for support, her nails digging into the tiles. You could see her getting closer, her breaths coming in short gasps. Wanda looked at you, her eyes dark with lust. "Isn't our princess beautiful, Y/N?" she moaned seductively, keeping her eyes trained on you as Natasha began to clench her wet heat around Wanda's deft fingers.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from Natasha's contorted face of pleasure. "Very," you husked, your voice thick with arousal. Wanda smirked before turning her attention back to Natasha, her fingers moving with purpose. Natasha's eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you watched as she bit her lip, trying to hold back. But Wanda was relentless, her thumb pressing harder, her other hand sliding into Natasha's mouth, muffling her cries. You stepped behind Wanda, rubbing yourself through her folds, causing her to momentarily falter, just as Natasha peaked and came with a rush over Wanda's fingers.

"Fuck," Wanda leaned her back against your chest as you continued to tease her with your cock, prodding and coating yourself in her arousal. Natasha leaned heavily against the shower wall, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath. "You're so...good," she murmured, her eyes glazed over. You couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest. Natasha slid down to the bench in the corner, her hazy gaze following the two of you who now stood in the center of the shower. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Wanda began chanting as you continued to tease and work her up.

Her hands found your ass, her nails digging in, urging you to fill her. you laughed darkly at her building desperation, your nose sliding in behind her ear as you kissed up and down her neck. "You think you're in control, don't you, Wanda?" you growl, nipping at her neck as you pull away. She moaned at the loss, quickly turning around to face you.

"Show me that I'm not?" she challenged a glimmer in her eyes. You smirked, gripping her hips and spinning her around so she faced Natasha. "I think Natasha would love to see how good you can be," you whispered, your hand sliding around Wanda's waist to guide her back onto Natasha's awaiting mouth. Natasha looked up at you with a mix of excitement and trepidation, before she leaned forward, trapping Wanda in a passionate liplock. You watched briefly as the two kissed before you lined yourself up with Wanda's waiting hole, and rammed your full length into her.

Wanda gasped, her eyes rolling back as Natasha pulled Wanda's bottom lip with her teeth. You took the opportunity to pull almost out, only to slam into her, feeling her tightness clench around you as she moaned into Natasha's mouth. Natasha's eyes widened, but she didn't pull away, instead, her tongue darted out to taste Wanda's bottom lip. You watched in amazement as Natasha began to suck on Wanda's lip, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as Wanda's moans grew louder.

You felt your orgasm building, Wanda's pussy around your cock too much to handle. "Oh fuck," you groaned, your hands tightening on Wanda's hips as you began to thrust faster. Wanda pulled away from the redhead, her moans and gasps becoming too much for her to continue kissing her wife before you. Wrapping your hand in the auburn locks that were pushed to the side of Wanda's face, you pulled her back by her hair till her back rested against your front, changing the angle with which you grazed the spongy, soft spot within her.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she let out a deep, primal scream that was quickly cut short by your hand sliding around to her throat, squeezing slightly, her eyes flying open to watch you. Taking the opportunity before you, you set a torrid pace as you licked and sucked at Wanda's neck, marking up and down her throat as Natasha whimpered in the corner. Wanda's hand snaked down to Natasha's pussy, her fingers easily slipping into the sopping wetness as Natasha's hips jerked up to meet them.

"You see that, our princess loves to watch mommy get railed," you growled in Wanda's ear. Natasha's eyes were glued to the scene before her, her cheeks flushed as she watched you claim Wanda's body. Wanda's eyes rolled back in pleasure, her breaths coming in quick pants as you hammered into her. The sight of Natasha's fingers moving in and out of herself was too much, and you could feel Wanda's walls tighten around you. "Look at her, Wanda," you bark in her ear, directing her attention to the redhead as she milked her fingers with her sloppy cunt.

Wanda's gaze snapped to Natasha, her eyes wide with desire. Natasha's hand worked faster, her other hand reaching up to pinch her nipple. You could feel Wanda's orgasm approaching, her moans growing louder. "That's it," you encouraged your voice a dark whisper. "Make mommy cum for daddy." Wanda's hand began to move faster, her hips grinding back into you as Natasha watched, her eyes hooded with lust.

Natasha suddenly moved to her knees, wrapping her arms around Wanda's thighs as she began to lick at her clit, while simultaneously cupping your sack, massaging them, and sending your senses into overdrive. Wanda's eyes widened, and she threw her head back, a guttural moan escaping her lips as Natasha's tongue worked her clit in a way that only Natasha knew how to do. You watched in amazement as Natasha's tongue darted in and out of Wanda's folds, her face a mask of pure desire. You could feel Natasha's tongue and lips occasionally grace your hardened member, sending a shudder down your spine.

Wanda's legs began to quiver as Natasha's mouth worked its magic, her eyes rolling back in her head as she got closer and closer to the edge. You took a moment to appreciate the view, the two most beautiful women you've ever seen pleasuring each other and you. Your grip on Wanda's hair tightened as you watched Natasha's nimble tongue work Wanda's clit, her other hand now stroking her own, the sight of Natasha's knuckles disappearing into herself was too much to handle. "Fuck," Wanda breathed out, her eyes snapping open to meet yours. "I'm going to cum."

"Not until I say, mama," you command, thrusting yourself harder into her now gaping hole. "Fuck, it's like you were made for me." you groaned at the feeling of her walls pulsing around you. Natasha smirks up at you, her eyes glazed with arousal as she continues to lick and kiss Wanda's clit.

Wanda's nails dig into your forearm, her body taut with the effort of holding off. "Fuck, please," she pants out, her voice strained. Natasha giggles, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through Wanda, her entire being shuddering in your grasp.

"Look at her, Natasha," you say, your voice thick with lust. "So eager for it." Natasha smiles up at you, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that matches your own. You slow your pace, teasing Wanda's clit before sliding your hand back up to rest around her throat. Wanda's eyes roll back in her head, and she lets out a low, guttural moan.

"Now," you command, and Natasha's mouth clamps down on Wanda's clit, her tongue flicking rapidly as she sucks and licks. Wanda's legs give out, and you hold her up with one arm wrapped around her chest, the other tightening around her throat. You feel her pussy clamp down on your cock as she cums, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm.

"Fuck, Y/N," Wanda started. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice ragged with pleasure. You chuckled darkly, feeling her spasms around your cock as Natasha's tongue danced around her clit. You thrust into Wanda a few more times, her pussy clenching around you as the aftershocks of her orgasm rolled through her body. "It's too much," she whined, her head leaning back to rest on your shoulder.

"You wanted me to prove who's in control Wanda," you nipped at her neck, before working out to her shoulder. "I'm gonna show you why it isn't you." With a brutal force, you thrust into her one more time before pulling out, spinning her around before leaning down far enough that you could pick the woman up, sliding her up the slick shower wall, her thighs now on either side of your face. The show of power elicited a whimper from both women, Natasha moving over to wrap her lips around you as you buried your face between Wanda’s legs.

The taste of Wanda's sweetness mixed with Natasha's lingering flavor on your tongue was heavenly. You began to lick and kiss along Wanda's slit, her breath hitching as she looked down at you. "Fuck," she whispered, her hands gripping the wall above her head. Natasha watched, her eyes hooded with lust as she took you back into her mouth, her hand reaching down to play with her clit. The sight was incredibly erotic, and you felt your climax building.

You worked Wanda's pussy with your tongue, her legs trembling with each stroke. You could feel Natasha's hands on your ass, her nails digging in as she urged you to go deeper, faster. The water cascaded down your bodies, making everything slick and slippery as you moved in tandem with Natasha's bobbing head. Wanda's moans grew louder, her hips rolling against your face as she approached her peak. "I'm going to cum again," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure.

"Ask for it, baby," you reached up, tweaking Wanda's nipple before returning it to its place on her thigh. "Beg for it." You could feel Natasha's tongue working you over as Wanda threw her head back, her breath coming in short pants.

"Please," she whimpered, her body tightening around your face. "Please, let me cum."

"It doesn't sound like you want it," you pulled away from her drenched folds, looking up at her heaving chest. You watched the frustration build in Wanda's eyes, her body on the brink of release.

"Oh, please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. Natasha's eyes flickered to Wanda's, the look on her face a mix of amusement and arousal as she watched her wife's need. You reached down, pushing Natasha away gently, fully intending for Wanda to be the one to finish you off this time.

Wanda looked at you with a fiery gaze, her eyes flashing with desire. "I want it," she breathed, her voice hoarse from the screams of pleasure she'd released moments ago. "Please, Y/N," You tut, a smirk playing on your lips as you stop your ministrations. Looking up at her, her legs still wrapped around your shoulders.

"That's not my name."

Wanda's eyes lock onto yours, a fierce desperation for release behind them. "Daddy, please. Please, fuck. Fuck me, let me cum daddy. Let me show you how good you make me feel." The way she says 'daddy' sends a jolt straight to your cock, and you can't resist the urge to push back into Natasha's mouth, letting her deep-throat you once more.

Her eyes water at the sudden pressure, but she takes it, her throat convulsing around you as she swallows you whole. You look back up at Wanda, your gaze intense. "You want it?" Your question, your voice low and gruff. She nods, her eyes pleading. "Then tell me how much you want it," you demand, your teeth clenched as you hold back your orgasm.

"I want it so badly," Wanda gasps, her voice a whine. "I need it, daddy." Natasha's eyes dart between the two of you, the word 'daddy' spiking her arousal as she continues to suck you off, her hand sliding down to her pussy, mimicking the movements you're about to make inside Wanda. You can feel Natasha's warm breath on your shaft as she takes you deep into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip.

With a smirk, you release yourself from Natasha's mouth, her tongue peeking out to catch the last droplets of pre-cum. You slide Wanda down the wall, turning her around so she's now facing Natasha. You lift her slightly, Natasha's mouth immediately finding Wanda's, her tongue slipping inside with ease. Wanda's legs feel like they are about to give way, so you pull up on her waist before driving yourself inside her pulsing warmth.

The sound of skin slapping skin and water bouncing off bodies fills the air as you begin to thrust, your movements in sync with Natasha's tongue. Wanda's moans are muffled by Natasha's mouth, but you can feel her body tightening around you, her orgasm approaching again. Natasha breaks the kiss, her eyes meeting yours, a question in them. You nod, and she moves her mouth down to Wanda's neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks in a line down to her collarbone.

"Gonna fill this bratty pussy fucking full, mama," you grunt, leaning down slightly to reach around and grasp one of Wanda's nipples, rolling it between your fingertips. You hear Natasha's breath hitch in response, her hand moving faster between her legs. Wanda's eyes roll back in her head, and she nods, unable to form coherent words. Pounding into Wanda's pussy, you worked yourself up quickly to your high.

Wanda's orgasm hits her like a ton of bricks, her body convulsing around you as Natasha watches with a mix of awe and envy. Natasha's eyes never leave yours as she brings herself to climax, her hand moving in a blur as her cunt spasms around her fingers. Wanda's pussy tightens around you, her nails digging into Natasha's shoulders as she rides out the waves of pleasure. You feel your orgasm approaching, your cock swelling within her.

"Fuck," Wanda gasps, her eyes rolling back as Natasha's mouth finds her nipple, biting down gently. You can't hold back anymore, your hips jerking as you fill Wanda with your cum, her body shaking with the intensity of it all. Natasha's hand slows, her orgasm subsiding as she watches you claim Wanda's body. Wanda's head falls back, her body going slack against Natasha's, both of them panting heavily.

You pull out of Wanda, your cock still pulsing with the aftermath of your release. Natasha's eyes never leave yours as she takes you back into her mouth, eagerly cleaning every drop of cum from your shaft. You groan, the sensation almost too much after the intense climax. Wanda's legs give out, and Natasha catches her, the two of them now kissing deeply, sharing your taste. The sight is so erotic that you feel yourself hardening again. A deep groan leaves you as you watch them, feeling a mix of possessiveness and arousal that you've never felt before.

You stepped back, pumping yourself as they continued. Wanda's hand slid down Natasha's body, reaching between her legs to continue the gentle ministrations that had brought her to the edge of pleasure. Natasha's eyes never left yours as she licked and kissed her way down Wanda's chest, her tongue tracing the path of your marks. You watched them, the two of them so in sync, so lost in each other's touch, and felt a fierce desire to claim them both, to show them that you were just as much a part of this as they were.

Finally, you felt like you were where you belonged. "Yes." was all you said, the two women before you stopped as they looked at you. "I say yes, to it all." Natasha's eyes sparkled with excitement, while Wanda's were filled with a mix of satisfaction and lust. They shared a knowing smile before Natasha pulled away from Wanda's embrace and moved towards you. She placed her hands on your shoulders, looking up at you with a seductive gaze.

"Are you sure, love?" she asked, her voice filled with a hint of concern. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the decision but also the thrill of the unknown. "I've never felt more sure," you replied, your voice firm. Wanda's smile grew wider, her eyes darkening as her soapy hand slid down your chest.

"Good," she purred, moving closer. Natasha's hand reached for your cock, now standing at attention again, stroking it gently. "We're going to take such good care of you," she whispered. You groaned at the feeling, your head rolling back as they began to lather you up.

Wanda's breasts pressed against your chest, her soapy hands sliding up and down your body, as she wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you deeply. Natasha stood behind you, gently working thier shampoo into your tousled hair, massaging your head sensually. The combination of their hands and lips on your skin was almost too much to handle, but you managed to keep your composure, your arousal simmering just beneath the surface.

Natasha pecked at your shoulders her hands tracing the muscles in your back as you continued your breathless affair with Wanda. Her touch was light and feathery, sending shivers down your spine. You felt Natasha's breasts press into your back, her body flush against you as her arms wrapped around your waist.

"I can't wait for our first date, detka."

READ PT 1 HERE

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shubhbank · 8 months

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midnightfictionlibrary · 1 year

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Better Man - Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Content : angst, fluff, friends to lovers, jealousy, sexual tension

Word Count : 2.4k

Summary : Anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever.

A/N : I’ve been reading/watching Bridgerton again, so I had to write for my lovely Anthony. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy!

Anthony raised his glass to his lips as he watched the rest of the “eligible young ladies” at the ball circle him, grateful for your presence at his side.

“My, my. It is almost as if you are a vulture's prey.” You tease, fixing a delicate button on the wrist of your perfectly crisp, white glove.

Anthony snorts at your comment. “Please, my lady. Vultures are much more interesting than the ladies circling my person.” He pauses, looking down at you fiddling with your button. He reaches out gently, “If I may,” he mutters quietly, reaching out to fix the offender. An electric jolt passes through you, and you have to keep your eyes on your glove to resist the urge to pull away quickly. You did not wish him to know how you felt about him.

“Thank you, my lord.” You respond, nodding your head politely and giving him a small smile. He regards you for a moment before bowing and offering you his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

“I suppose.” You say, taking on a teasing tone again. Anthony outright smiles at this, leading you to the ballroom floor. It always came easy to dance with you, Anthony realized. It was as if you both could read each other’s next movements perfectly. After all, you had been friends since you were wee babes, crawling through the Bridgertons’ lush garden. You regard him slightly before saying “Have you found a suitable wife yet, Anthony?”

Anthony’s dark eyes settle on yours, and he has to keep from swallowing thickly. Something about the way you settled all of your attention on him had always made him nervous, always making his heart beat a bit too fast. “No.” he says quietly. “None of them are suitable. This is not to be a love match, strictly business, but I cannot imagine any of the women here as my life partner.” He looks down at you again, unable to read the look on your face for the first time in what felt like quite a while.

“Well.” You say. “On my front I do not have any prospects. No one seems to wish to marry me.”

“Why would that be?” Anthony questions, too quickly, he thinks.

“It may have something to do with the fact that we seem to be attached at the hip at every ball we happen to grace with our presence.”

We. Anthony wants to shiver at that word, thinking about you being attached to him was too good to be true. You were much too good for a rake such as himself. His eyebrows knit together and he tilts his head slightly. “Should I leave you here amongst all these people on the ballroom floor?” Now he took on a teasing tone, secretly satisfied that he can pull an eyeroll or annoyed look from your otherwise prim and proper stature.

You do roll your eyes, shaking your head at him slightly. “You leave me on this dancefloor by myself and I have no doubts even the most boring high society lady here would turn their nose up at you.” You pretend to sniff, as if your feelings were hurt. “And to think, I was under the impression you were my dearest friend.”

Anthony dips you slightly as the song draws to a close. The vanilla perfume wafting from your exposed neck and up to him. It’s intoxicating to him and he rights the two of you quickly, clearing his throat as he steps back. “I thank you rather kindly for the dance, my lady.” You nod to him, watching as he walks away with a broad step.

You furrow your brows, wondering why his attitude had changed suddenly, when you are approached by Lord Nikolai Andros, who asks you for a dance. You smile at him graciously, pleasantly surprised that he had approached you, and you would be able to dance with someone other than Anthony for once.

Dancing with Anthony just made your feelings all the stronger, and you did not know how much longer you could endure being his dearest friend. You curtsy to Lord Andros, following gracefully as he spins you across the ballroom. You wondered idly why he so suddenly expressed an interest to dance with you, but it was exciting to dance with someone else. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if your dance card was to be filled by Anthony Bridgerton and Anthony Bridgerton alone.

From across the ballroom, Anthony had his hands clenched at his sides, watching Andros spin you across the ballroom. You were much too good for Andros, and if he was a rake, Andros was a bigger one, known for not being particularly faithful to his late wife.

Benedict slides up next to Anthony, following his gaze. “I say, is that Andros?”

“Yes.” Anthony replies, voice clipped and tight.

“Hm.” Benedict huffs, “She seems to be rather enjoying herself, wouldn’t you say, brother?”

“It would appear so, yes, Benedict.” Anthony replies, trying to keep his voice from sounding too strained.

Benedict smirked. “Yourself, however..” clamping his mouth shut with an innocent shrug when Anthony gives him a look suggesting he could kill. However, Benedict continues on, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You love her.”

Anthony opens his mouth, then closes it again, his perfect jaw set in anger, denial, or perhaps both. He shakes his head at Benedict, as if to say not here. He knows he has to be a better man for you, but the thought is too painful to bear at the moment, while you spin across the floor in another man’s arms.

Benedict raises his hands slightly as he backs away from his brother, nodding his head in your direction again, where you were curtsying to Andros. Anthony feels heat rise in his chest as Andros maintains eye contact with you, and before he can comprehend what he’s doing, he strides back over to you.

“My lady, would you like to promenade with some of the other young men and women in the garden? They have taken to admiring the rose bushes.” Anthony doesn’t wait for an answer before he gently grasps your elbow and steers you towards the open doors to the garden. Both of you pretend not to feel the butterflies that appear when the two of you touch.

“Anthony, whatever are you doing?” You half whisper. “You did not even acknowledge Lord Andros.”

Anthony leans in and whispers, almost harsh with you. “You cannot court that man.”

You stop walking, pulling your arm out of his grasp. “I do not believe you are the authority on that matter, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Do not use my title because you are vexed at me, little bird.” Anthony says, his childhood nickname for you slipping from his lips effortlessly. You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows that this is you demanding an explanation. He licks his lips and glances around at the other ball guests milling about. None of them seem any the wiser of the tiff the two of you were beginning to have.

“I will stand here for as long as I possibly can. This overprotective nature is not unlike you, but you have never outright sought me out to tell me to not court a gentleman.”

Anthony sighs, starting to become frustrated. “He..is of the rakish variety.”

You snort.

Anthony’s perplexed eyes meet yours and you shrug. “And you are not, Anthony?”

“He is worse. He had many a mistress while his wife was ill in their marriage bed.”

You grimace and Anthony nods almost smugly. “See. You are much too good for a man like that.”

“If I am much too good, why am I yet to be wed?”

“I…” Anthony starts, faltering over his words. He had no answer.

You step closer to him, your voice low. “I will tell you the reason. It is because of you.”

Anthony swallows, looking down at you. You are much closer to him than he usually allowed himself to be, and your intoxicating scent and god, the way the light in your eyes trapped him made him more than nervous. “Me?” he questions.

“Yes, Anthony. You. Every person in the ton believes me to belong to you. They pity me. Oh poor girl,” You start to mock, affecting your tone “that Lord Bridgerton is just stringing her along.” Your nostrils flare. “However, here you are, deciding to marry, using me as a pawn to get these most delightful young ladies to leave you alone.” You feel tears starting to sting your eyes, the hurt of not being the object of Anthony’s affections threatening to spill over. “I am not willing to be your pawn any longer, Anthony.”

Anthony watches your face, devastated as he realizes that you feel the same longing for him as he feels for you. “Little bird, I-”

You hold up a hand. “No. I do not wish to hear what you have to say to me any longer. It is time I retire, anyhow. Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton.” You say, turning on your heel quickly, just as hot tears begin to flow down your cheeks. Rushing out to your carriage, you ignore your mother, choosing to spend the ride home in heartbreaking silence. Your mother says nothing, just clasps your hand gently, which makes you cry all the more.

The next morning, Anthony is pacing in his study, wondering if he should call on you. Would you even want to see him? Should he just leave you be? Would it be better to give up everything the two of you shared so he did not cause you such pain again?

Before Anthony can make up his mind, you walk through the door to his study. His back is turned to you, and you can hear him audibly sigh.

“Benedict, I truly do not have the mind to-” He stops as he turns around, mouth dry. There you stood, a beautiful pale purple dress accentuating the very air of loveliness that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

“Hello, Anthony.” You say quietly, watching as he fumbles, setting his bourbon glass down shakily and coming around the front of his desk.

“You have given up calling me Lord Bridgerton, then?” He asks, his voice sounding strangely strained.

“Yes. I apologize for being cross with you yesterday evening. I just..” You pause, and Anthony takes this as his opportunity to come toward you. He comes close, looking down at you with his beautiful dark eyes.

“What is it?” He asks, afraid of what your answer may be. He was expecting you to tell him that you never wished to see him again, and he would have to accept that and let go of you. He desperately prayed that you did not come to lock him out of your life forever.

“I have fallen in love with you, Anthony. I know how you feel about love, because of your father. But I cannot sit by idly while you look for a wife that is not me. I am going to court Lord Andros, and you will have to accept that, because I cannot allow you to look over me, when all I have wanted for as long as I can remember is the reciprocation of my feelings from you.”

Anthony stood there, shocked beyond belief. You did feel the same way about him. He was not making up the pained look you had on your face at the ball the previous night. He felt as if someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart, and he could hear his ears ringing. He did not know what to say.

“I will take my leave from you.” You say, turning and making your way back to the large oak study door.

Suddenly, Anthony snaps out of his stupor. “No!” He almost yells, quickly moving to place his hand on the door, barring you from opening it. This is the closest the two of you have been in quite a while. Your bodice touching his chest, his nose almost touching yours. You inhale sharply, gazing up at him. “Let me explain my wretched behavior darling, but please do not take your leave of me.” Anthony pleads, his voice dripping with desperation. Taken aback, you give him a tiny nod, still mesmerized by the proximity in which the two of you stood.

Anthony glances at the door, then to your face, and then he gently brings his hands up to cradle your face. Your eyes widen, and his brows furrow.

“I…”He bites his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to your lips before sighing. “I long for you. I long for your attention. I cannot sleep without thinking of you. I cannot read a book or discuss politics without thinking of what you may say or how you may react. I long for your company when I awake in the morning and long after I have gone to bed. My soul desperately aches for you as if you are a piece missing from it. Seeing you with Andros solidified this feeling for me even more. Watching another man take your hand in his…I could have sobbed at the sight of it. You haunt every part of my being and I cannot deny it any longer.”

“Anthony…” You breathe out, eyes roaming his beautiful face.

“I love you. I love you, I love you.” He says, bringing his face closer to yours each time he says it. “I am terrified of love, my little bird, but I love you so deeply that if you will have me, I will spend the rest of my days cherishing you.” He breathes out, as if he had been holding in a breath, and he leans his forehead against yours gently.

You reach up, using a finger to smooth the furrow in his brow. “I love you most ardently, Anthony Bridgerton.”

Anthony is so relieved, he leans in and captures your lips in his without thinking clearly. Worried he may have made a mistake kissing you before you were to be wed, he tries to pull away.

You grab his lapel and keep him close, smiling into his lips.

“Marry me.” He breathes out, running a finger along your bottom lip after you’ve pulled back from him.

“The answer has always been yes.” You whisper back, gazing at him lovingly. Anthony grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms. He cannot wait for you to be by his side for the years to come. He hums contentedly, hugging you as he should have done so very long ago.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #best friends to lovers #jealousy #longing #love confessions

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hermajestyimher · 2 years

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This Is How We Will Own 2023:

We're less than a month away from the New Year, and as such, it is important that we begin to set the foundations and plans we have to not only succeed, but make 2023 a memorable year.

Regardless of how 2022 went for you, regardless of how many goals you were able to achieve, a new year marks a new beginning. Do not beat yourself over how things went, focus on how you can improve them moving forward.

In 2023 we're:

Spending less time being passive scrollers online. The pandemic is over, the world is back in action and so must we. It's time to stop letting our minds be consumed by the opinions of thousands of people on the internet. More often than not, the things we read online come from the psyche of mentally unwell individuals, and given social media's tendency to prompt out the voices of the most unhinged, it gives people that shouldn't have a platform a false sense of authority. In 2023 we're getting off the grid as much as we can and reconnecting with the real world. We will not allow this online façade to swallow us into its void any longer.

Spending more time learning and engaging in high-end activities and hobbies that can elevate our social circle and our taste. Things like polo matches, pilates, ballet, opera, piano classes, poetry, political forums, martial arts, and high-intensity sports, among other things. It is crucial to cultivate a persona that engages in a variety of fulfilling activities that can bring us joy but also help us grow as individuals.

Prioritizing our health and fitness. No more excuses, it's time to cut down on added sugar and refined carbs, time to eat more nutrient-dense whole foods, drink plenty of water daily, invest in vitamin injections every other month, take supplements to improve our body's collagen production, and overcome feelings of laziness by pushing ourselves through fitness goals. 2023 we will make of the gym our sanctuary.

Living below our budget and investing as much as we can. If you haven't already, get a financial advisor, develop long and short-term financial goals and get organized with your income. It doesn't matter if in the past you've felt like your financial habits have not been the most adequate, it's never too late to take control of them and be responsible. We owe to ourselves to spend wisely to have the peace of mind financial security brings. Never go broke trying to impress others.

We're no longer entertaining inadequate men. I must admit I'm guilty of this myself. After years of not dating, getting back into the dating scene has felt extremely disappointing and tiring. Most prospects are simply not up to par with the standards I have and what I want out of my life partner. Sometimes we allow ourselves to become desperate to build these types of romantic relationships that we begin to overlook the things that we really want deep down. In 2023, we're refocusing our attention on living our best lives and being as active as possible in real-life events as touched upon previously, and trust that the right dating prospects will present themselves when we least expect. We attract, we don't chase.

Finally, we're overcoming negative self-talk patterns that hinder our growth. We're investing in therapy, we're unlearning the limiting beliefs that keep us in bondage to people, routines, and views of the world that are not good for us. We have to put an end to the insidious lie of the scarcity mindset, overcome past traumas, and look forward to the good things that are yet to come.

There are many more things I could add to this list, but for now, these are the things I and I know many of you will find helpful on improving on for the year to come. These lists can come out as intimidating to some people, but we have to remember that we are not expected to become the ideal version of ourselves overnight. Growth is a marathon, not a sprint, and it requires consistency. Each day that you wake up and choose to do one or two things differently you're making stride towards that better you. No improvement is ever too little.

Let's make 2023 a memorable year, and every year afterwards.

Daphne.

#2023 planning #blog piece #things ive learned #goal setting #level up journey #levelingup

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discordantwritings · 8 months

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Our Precious Assistant Pt. 4 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, a man being a creep (don’t worry he gets what’s coming), canon typical violence, dom! Mihawk, dom! Crocodile, sub! Buggy, sub! Reader, oral, facefucking, PiV sex, choking, creampie

WC: 6k

Summary: You get the privilege of joining your bosses/ partners at a gala event- purely on a precessional level (unfortunately). But when someone thinks that they can be rude to you- touch you even- it’s time to remind everyone of how terrifying each member of the Cross Guild is.

Notes: oh man this is the longest part yet (which is only a small part of why it took so long I can’t really lie). I hope the wait is worth it and that you too love these pirates being violent

You had seen the invite to the gala before Crocodile showed it to you in his office. All three leaders of the Cross Guild had received an invitation to this gala- a premier event for the criminals of the sea. You thought nothing of it as you slipped them into everyone’s stacks of papers. They got invites to events all of the time but almost never accepted, Buggy being the only one who would show face consistently. So when Crocodile calls you in and slides the invitation across his desk to you, you’re confused.

“It arrived this morning, I assume you are going to turn it down but I didn’t want to send it back before you all agreed that you weren’t going.” You turn the invitation towards you, admiring the minimalist graphic style.

“You know me so well.” Crocodile smiles as he leans back in his chair. “And normally I wouldn’t go but I got a call from an old colleague who says he might have some information for the guild. He’s going to be there so it makes sense if we go.”

You nod and pick up the invitation, slipping it into your clipboard. “So just you or will Buggy and Mihawk also go?”

“All of us are going. And if you are interested, you should come along with us.”

“As… your date or as your assistant?” You’re caught off guard. While the four of you have no problem here at the office, you’ve put in work to make sure no one outside of the Cross Guild knew any of you were involved. It didn’t upset you at all- you knew how much danger you were in simply from being their assistant, being their significant other would be a huge point of vulnerability for them. Not to mention what people would think if they found out the leaders of the Cross Guild were romantically and sexually involved…

“As our assistant. But we do want you to be included.” Crocodile confirms your thoughts and you can’t help but smile when he says he wants to include you.

“Well I can’t really say no to something a part of the job can I?” You tease.

“No, I guess you can’t. Oh and tell Buggy to take you shopping, he knows what will match with our formal outfits.” Crocodile is already back to work and you leave his office with a bounce in your step. You go right to Buggy’s office, knocking once before entering.

“Who is it-“ His voice is annoyed before he sees it’s you and when he does his entire demeanor shifts. “My favorite assistant!”

“Your only assistant.” You walk over to where he’s sitting- that ridiculous green sofa- and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Please don’t tell me it’s more things I have to sign.” He eyes your clipboard and you shake your head.

“Actually it’s something fun. I’m joining you guys at that gala in a week and Crocodile says you need to help me pick out an outfit.” Buggy lights up at the prospect, flinging whatever he was working on across the room.

“Buggy- not right now you have work to do.” You remind him and he deflates. You pat him on the back. “But sometime this week ok we will make a date.”

“Fineeeeeeee.” Buggy detaches a hand to grab the paperwork he flung across the room. “But Mihawk and Crocodile can’t come they make shopping no fun.”

You think shopping with them could be fun for you, but with how they treat Buggy? It’s probably just another form of torture for him. Sure, torture that he signs up for and likes, but torture. You know Buggy’s schedule so you pencil yourself in for an evening later in the week and leave him to work.

Even though you are going as their assistant there is still a thrill knowing you’ll get to be with them at an event like this. Just being a part of their lives and worthy of being in the public face filled you with a sense of pride. You go through the rest of the week with a spring in your step as you daydream about what the gala will be like.

Shopping with Buggy was a crazy evening. He has a deceptively keen eye for fashion and after trying on countless outfits at dozens of stores the two of you finally agree on an outfit. It’s sleek and black- made out of a shiny silky fabric that is smooth against your skin. The silhouette is simple but well cut and tailored to the planes of your body. Your accessories are all gold, the accent color that Buggy said the rest of them would be wearing. The whole thing together makes you feel rich and regal. And since Buggy was footing the bill you don’t have to worry about how crazy expensive everything probably is.

Before you knew it you were putting on that outfit for the event, pacing your living room as you wait for your boyfriends to come pick you up. You have to tap down some of your feelings though, you know how important it is to not outwardly show your relationship with your bosses. But that all goes out the window the second you hear a knock on your door. Bolting to the door and trying not to trip in your dress shoes you throw open the door and see your boys all dressed up.

It’s not a big leap for Crocodile and Mihawk but it’s still a change. Crocodile has traded his normal vest and cravat in for a simple black three piece suit with a black button up shirt. A dark green tie sits around his neck while all his accessories are still his trademark gold. Mihawk has ditched his typical coat, trading it in for a long tailed suit jacket around his mostly unbuttoned white shirt. You can see in the lining of the tails a rich gold fabric that matches his eyes.

And then there is Buggy. You half expected him to be in a regular clown outfit but he had actually gotten put together himself. He was wearing pinstripe suit with a shiny gold vest underneath and his white gloves had been traded in for black ones and his hair was up in a ponytail. In his hands he held a comically large bouquet. All four of you spend a few seconds just staring at each other and you blush under the gaze of all three men.

“I mean I know I saw you in this before but- damn.” The second those words leave Buggy’s mouth Mihawk slaps him upside the head.

“He means you look ravishing.” Mihawk says, his golden eyes piercing through you.

“Well, you three don’t look so bad yourself.” It’s hard not to stare at them in their well tailored suits and you can feel your gaze dragging over their forms as well.

You see Crocodile check his watch and sigh. For a second you wonder if you’re behind schedule but Crocodile explains his thoughts. “We should have budgeted some time to ruin you.”

Your face heats up at the casual way he says and you grab the bouquet from Buggy to hide behind. “Next time.”

“Next time.” Crocodile is happy with your answer and you quickly run back into your place to put the bouquet in water before joining them outside the door. Buggy links his arm through yours and you feel Crocodile’s hand at your shoulder as you follow Mihawk out.

The travel was short and filled with planning- who they were actually going to talk to, when they would do their actual meeting, and then what time they were leaving. While they talked you leaned on Mihawk’s shoulder while Crocodile had his hand on your knee. You soaked up the bits of intimacy knowing you’d have to keep to yourself for most of the night. Well. Buggy could probably get away with some occasional touches and no one would bat an eye, but that’s besides the point.

You peel yourself away from Mihawk and Crocodile as you arrive at your destination. A large white mansion stands before you, warm lights illuminating the stone. Chatter fills the air as some other attendants hang outside, most casting curious glances towards your arrival. It gave you some relief that most were looking at your bosses and not you as you followed closely behind the three. That’s the good part, you suppose, about being around three of the most powerful men on all of the seas. You don’t have to worry about anyone bothering to judge you.

You follow only a pace behind the three of them as they walked into the mansion and once again, you were in awe. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung in high vaulted ceilings, warm lights scattered across the wide ballroom space. Almost everyone you see is someone important and if you hadn’t been dealing with your bosses for as long as you have you would have been much more nervous just entering the space. You still find your heart skipping beats as you do your best not to attract unwanted attention.

Almost immediately you spot the man Crocodile came here to see, a spindly middle aged man scurries over in a suit so ill fitting you can see Mihawk cringe. The kind of man you don’t want to look at in a room full of powerful and attractive people- which you suppose is the goal if you’re an information broker.

“Sylas.” Crocodile greets the man with a simple nod.

“Sir Crocodile it is so good to see you after such a long time you know-“ You tune the man out as he rambles on, you realized early on in your job that people take any opportunity to endear themselves to your bosses with probably made up stories or long forgotten memories of the one time they met. Luckily your bosses never really put up with small talk for too long.

“Do you have a room where we can talk business?” Crocodile cuts Sylas off mid sentence and you see the other man quickly adjust.

“Yes- yes of course uh- right this way.” Sylas begins walking off towards the far edge of the ballroom and Crocodile trails behind him. Buggy grabs a flute of champagne from a nearby tray, downing it in one gulp before running after the two.

“Have a good time, we will meet up again once this business is over.” Mihawk says with a flash of a smile before striding away, leaving you alone.

You stand there for a second, trying to figure out your next move. You hadn’t expected them to take off so soon so you adjusted your night in your head and decided to follow Mihawk’s guidance. You were going to have a good time. Which, of course, starts at raiding the snack table.

You fill up a plate with as many hors d’oeuvres as you possibly can. Small savory pastries, cured meats and cheeses, and fruits and vegetables prepared in ways you’ve never seen before are all stacked carefully on your plate as you make your way over to an unoccupied table along the edge of the ballroom floor.

Snacking away happily, you watched pairs of elegantly dressed people dance across the floor to a live string quartet. This was the kind of scene you imagined in your childhood, you were almost surprised scenes like this actually happened. A part of you longs to be able to be out on that dance floor with your partners- Buggy and Mihawk would be great dancers you bet- but you push that feeling down with another small block of cheese.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice from your side startles you, and you look up to see a well-dressed man smiling down at you. His blond hair is short and slicked back, not in a way you find particularly attractive but not so offensive it’s ugly. Overall he looked very painfully average.

“Oh- no, feel free to sit.” You weren’t going to be rude to anyone here- you don’t know who this person could be connected to and even if you don’t hold a powerful position you were still a representative of the Cross Guild tonight.

He takes a seat directly next to you and props and elbow on the table. “I’m just surprised to see someone so gorgeous sitting alone at a table looking so dejected.”

“Oh- I mean-“ You’re a bit embarrassed that it showed so clearly that you were missing the presence of your boyfriends but mostly you’re knocked off guard by the flirting. It had been a bit since anyone but your partners flirted with you. “Thank you.��

“I’m sure I could cheer you up with a dance?” He leaned in a bit closer and you felt yourself leaning away.

“Thanks, really, but I’m fine right now.” You hope he drops it- but of course he doesn’t.

“Why not? You waiting for someone? Cause where I’m sitting you were left all alone. Not very smart.” His words send a slight panic through you.

“I’m just not in the mood.” Your tone drops, no longer being nice and trying to let him down easy.

“Oh come on don’t be like that.” His smile is nauseating.

No longer in the mood to even be around him you stand up to leave without a word. You only make it a few paces before you feel a strong grip on your wrist yank you back.

“I said- don’t be like that.” You turn around and see him glaring at you- this is a man who has clearly not been told no many times in his life. His grip is strong though, and you feel his fingers dig in deeper as you try to yank your arm away. You’re only vaugley aware of the small scene being created as you stop trying to pull away, realizing you won’t beat him in a strength contest.

“Let me go.” Your voice is low and even- a threat.

“And what are you going to do about it?” His smug grin has you seeing red.

One of the many benefits to being in a relationship with three incredibly powerful men is that all of them had taught you how to defend yourself. After all that practice it was surprisingly easy to use his grip on you to yank him closer, throwing him off balance. Finally at this distance you want him you kick your sharp dress shoe up- right into his crotch. He doubles over in wordless pain and as his grip leaves your wrist you throw out a quick jab, your fingers hitting him directly in the throat. Only able to keep himself upright for a second he collapses to the ground at your feet.

“Hey- woah what’s the scene-“ You’re vaugley aware of Buggy’s voice and you look up to see him pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around you. As he finally reaches the inner circle he locks eyes with you. His gaze flickers down to the man on the floor for a second before coming back up to you. He realizes what happened.

“And that’s what happens when you step up to any member of the Cross Guild. Even our assistants are fearsome fighters!” Buggy is by your side in a flash, hand around your shoulder, showboating you around. As he does so though, he leans in close and whispers. “Wanna go home?”

You nod and by that time Mihawk and Crocodile have split the crowd themselves and are looking at the scene. Something is wordlessly exchanged between the three of them and Buggy pushes you to Mihawk, who places his hand lightly on your shoulder. You let yourself be guided away from the crowd, not looking back to see how Crocodile and Buggy are going to handle the situation.

The trip home is fuzzy, you know the second you were away from prying eyes Mihawk had pulled you into his side but your mind was unfocused. You really don’t snap back into your body until you’re back in your shared bedroom and sitting on the bed with Mihawk. His slender fingers delicately pick up your wrist and he holds it up to look at it. You see the bruises starting to form and Mihawk frowns.

“We shouldn’t have left you alone.” His fingers slip from your wrist to your hand, intertwining with your own.

“Well- I mean clearly those fighting lessons paid off.” You joke, but your heart isn’t really in it.

“I should have never put you in the position where you had to use them.” His other hand rests on your knee and you can’t help but lean into him, your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I caused a scene.” You mumble, still embarrassed at how many people saw what happened.

“Hey- look at me.” Mihawk shifts to face you and you look up at him. “None of that was your fault. It’s that lowlife’s fault for thinking he could lay a hand on you.”

“I know I just- I feel bad that Buggy and Crocodile have to go and smooth everything over…”

Mihawk looks confused and you tilt your head in equal levels of confusion. “Love, they aren’t smoothing things over.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are making an example of that man. No one gets to touch you like that and get away with it.” You’ve been around all of them long enough to know exactly what ‘making an example’ really means. They were turning that guy into a bloody pulp.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, working through the image of Buggy and Crocodile torturing that piece of shit. It should disturb you on some level, you know exactly how much violence these men hold inside them, but for some reason it doesn’t disturb you at all. A sick joy fills your chest as you imagine the scene- Crocodile’s hook through the man while Buggy’s various daggers carve into him.

Maybe you’ve been around them too long, but honestly you don’t care. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so loved before.

“No one gets to hurt you.” Mihawk pulls your hand up and places a delicate kiss on your wrist over the forming bruises. “Not without consequences.”

He continues to kiss around the darkening marks, taking his time to reach every area of effected skin. The contact and the thoughts of violence still at the edge of your thoughts make your head feel light and fuzzy- in a good way this time, unlike the dissociation you were plagued with earlier. Mihawk presses a kiss to your pulse point and smirks into your skin.

“Your heart is racing.” He states it as a fact and holds your arm out a bit straighter so he can kiss his way up your forearm to the inside of your elbow. He slowly works his way upwards until he’s stopped by the fabric of your clothes. Pausing for only a second he gently pulls you closer, nuzzling in under your jaw and lightly nipping the skin there.

“Mihawk.” You say with shaky breath, your hand gripping his shoulder.

“Yes my love?” He pauses only for a second before continuing to cover your neck in kisses.

“More- please-“ Your fingers dig into the expensive fabric of his jacket, slipping as he sits up.

“Whatever you want.” He places a kiss on your cheek before turning his attention to delicately disrobing you. Deft hands carefully took off your expensive clothing, moving painfully slow as his hands wandered over every new exposed expanse of skin.

He’s careful with your clothing- a contrast to Crocodile and Buggy who you’re confident would have just ripped it off your body with little thought. Not that you would have minded but there’s something about the way he treats the fabric (and you) so delicately that has heat pooling in your stomach.

It’s not long before you’re naked and laid out on the bed, breath heavy from just the act of him undressing you. Mihawk hasn’t done the same for himself, only having taken off his jacket and shoes. You feel the lavish silk of his white dress shirt drag up your body as he crawls over you. When his face is finally level with yours he pauses and you get a few moments to stare up at him, appreciating the sharp lines of his face and bright gold of his eyes. But the few moments are quickly over as he presses his lips to yours.

Mihawk has always been the slowest out of your three partners. Buggy is always needy and Crocodile has never quite learned how to be truly patient. Mihawk on the other hand? It must be something in his swordsman training that led him to understand pacing and the virtue of being slow. It’s minutes of deliberate kisses before Mihawk’s tongue presses to your lips, pushing in and tangling in your own. Every movement is purposeful as you let him take over your senses with just a kiss.

You’ve lost track of time when he finally decides to move lower, kissing a path down your neck, on the ridge of your sternum, over your stomach, and finally down to your pelvis. He still takes his damn time there, sucking bruises into your inner thighs as your hands grip into his pitch black hair.

“Thought-“ You whine as he nips lightly at your delicate skin. “Thought I was going to get whatever I wanted.”

You see gold eyes look up at you, a mischievous spark playing in them. “Well you have to ask first.”

“Mihawk please-“ Your fingers grip tighter in his hair but he’s unfazed.

“You know I’ll do whatever you ask.” His chin rests on the top of your thigh now, fully waiting for direction.

“Just- eat me out- please.” You voice is breathy and whiny.

“Whatever you ask.” And in a blink his mouth is on your folds, right where you need him.

He’s precise and deliberate in every single one of his movements. His tongue swirls around your clit while his long fingers hold your folds open. He alternates between swirling and sucking, working at a languid pace that keeps you near your peak of pleasure without ever tipping you over. It’s not frustrating though, you find yourself getting lost in the high and forgetting all about the unpleasantness of the night. Your world goes fuzzy as Mihawk takes you apart, so much so that it takes Mihawk stopping his movements to realize the bedroom door has opened.

“Now this is a good welcome home.” Crocodile’s deep voice sounds from the doorway and your brain finally catches up as you turn your head to see him and Buggy.

Crocodile had lost a few layers since you last saw him; his jacket, vest, and cravat missing leaving him in only his dark pants and white shirt. His hook was slick with blood, dripping down onto the dresser where he sets it down after he takes it off his arm. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see splatters of dark blood on the white fabric. A single piece of his black hair hangs in his face as he flashes you a wide predatory grin.

Buggy is much more disheveled. His jacket is gone and his shirt is close to soaking in blood. His face paint is smeared and his shirt has been untucked from his pants and as he waves at you you see only one glove is still on his hands.

“You like that don’t you?” Mihawk has crawled up your body again, voice in your ear.

“Hm?” You don’t look away from Crocodile and Buggy as they kick off their shoes and accessories.

“Seeing them all bloody.” Mihawk’s fingers play at your folds. “You got even more soaked when you saw them.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it- yes. There was something so primal about seeing those two fresh from violence- violence they enacted for you. You didn’t think your boyfriends could get any hotter but seeing them covered in blood has your cunt throbbing for them.

“Buggy here actually did a good job for once.” Crocodile’s hand grips Buggy’s waist and pulls him in. “Even I gotta admit he’s damn good with those daggers. Even if he’s messy.”

“I mean- I had to make it a good show.” Buggy laughs nervously but it’s quickly swallowed by Crocodile shoving his tongue down Buggy’s throat. Now you put together that most of Buggy’s disheveled look was because Crocodile couldn’t keep his hands to himself on the way home. Seems like you weren’t the only one getting off on the violence.

You were enraptured watching Crocodile kiss Buggy, his hand at the back of Buggy’s neck holding him in place. You feel Mihawk’s grin against your neck.

“How about you show them how thankful you are?” He whispers into the shell of your ear and you have never heard a better idea.

You push yourself off the bed and walk over to the pair and eagerly sink to your knees in front of them. Crocodile pulls away from Buggy to grin down at you, his hand coming to pet your head.

“What’s this?” Crocodile’s hand travels from the top of your head down to your chin, fingers titling your head up to look into his eyes.

“I want to say thank you.” You smiled up at him, Buggy already fiddling with his belt in your peripheral vision.

Crocodile’s thumb left your chin to press at your bottom lip and you open up, allowing him to push his thumb into your mouth. You open your mouth wider as you swirl your tongue around the digit, letting him get a good view of you work. He chuckles as he watches you, pupils blown out in desire.

“Always so good for us, aren’t you?” Crocodile slides his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva down your bottom lip to your chin. “Go ahead, say thank you.”

Your hands immediately fly to his belt and as you work it open you cast a glance to your left to see Buggy still standing close. His pants are down and he’s holding his cock at its base while Mihawk whispers something in his ear. You can make out what he’s saying but it’s clearly effecting Buggy as you watch the way his dick twitches in his hand.

Finally through the belt and fly you pull Crocodile’s pants down, his cock springing up after being released from its confines. Waisting no time you lick from his base all the way up to the tip before taking just his tip into your mouth. You’re messy, letting saliva drip down and coat his length to ease the way for your hand to slowly pump up and down what wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye you see movement and you look up to see Buggy trying to move away but being held in place by Mihawk.

“For once Buggy you’ve actually earned some attention, isn’t that right?” Mihawk smiles down at you and you pull off Crocodile, nodding.

You lick your palm and gently move Buggy’s hand off himself, replacing it with your grip. Glancing up at Crocodile, you check with him that it’s alright to divide your attention and he gives you a small nod.

“Come a little bit closer Bug.” He listens (or Mihawk pushes him) and stands hip to hip with Crocodile, angled in to give you better access.

You press sloppy kisses at the base of his cock, making sure to keep steadily pumping Crocodile while you do so. Your thumb collects the precum gathering at Buggy’s tip and you pull away to dramatically lick it off your thumb. Buggy is transfixed but nervous, his hands clenching and unclenching by his side.

“Buggy?” You look up at him, eyes wide to play with your faux innocent tone.

“Y-Yeah sweetheart?” His voice is breathy.

“Aren’t you going to accept my thanks? You did such a good job…” You nuzzle your face along the side of his cock, letting his tip slide up your cheek.

“Fuck.” He breaks your gaze to look at Crocodile, still fearful of breaking the regular order of how things work.

“Don’t be ungrateful.” Crocodile warns and that’s all that Buggy needs to take his still gloved hand and fist it in your hair. You hear Mihawk chuckle and see him move away, sitting on the bed to watch the show.

Finally satisfied Buggy will actually enjoy the experience you take him into your mouth, tongue flattening as you swallow most of his length in one go. The grip on your hair tightens and Buggy swears above you as you suck up and down his length.

“Alright, back to me now.” A second hand grips the back of your head, pulling you off of Buggy and shoves your face back in front of Crocodile’s cock.

You let Crocodile guide your mouth onto his length and push you down till your nose is pressed up against his skin. He holds you there until you gag and then pulls you off again, spit connecting your mouth to his dick as you gasp for breath. Just as you catch it it’s Buggy’s hand that redirects you back to him, following Crocodile’s actions and pushing you eagerly down his length.

They trade off like this for a while and you relish in letting yourself be used like this, thoughts leaving your head as the two of them fuck your face. Buggy is the first to crack, hips stuttering and a high pitched whine leaving him as Crocodile pulls you off his length.

“Shit-“ You see his ungloved hand clamp around his base and his eyes screw shut, clearly trying to stave off his orgasm.

“What do you think Crocodile?” Mihawk’s slightly amused voice sounds behind you.

“I think he gets a treat.” Crocodile’s hand leaves you to grip the back of Buggy’s neck, pulling him closer to Crocodile so he can nip at his collarbone. “For once you deserve to cum first.”

“Y-Yeah?” Buggy’s eyes shoot open, flicking between you and Crocodile.

“Where do you want to cum Buggy?” You shift so you’re fully facing him, smiling wide.

“Fuck I- shit-“ Buggy’s mind races as Crocodile licks up the column of his neck to his jaw. “Face- Please-“

“Good choice. Go on, make a mess of that pretty little face.” Crocodile says in Buggy’s ear, grinning down at you.

You let your mouth hang open as Buggy furiously pumps his length and as his breath hitches you let your eyes fall closed and feel stripes of cum hit your face and tongue. You crack your eyes open when you feel the tip of Buggy’s cock smear his cum over your lips and you fight the urge to close your mouth and swallow what’s on your tongue.

“Now that’s a sight.” Crocodile’s hand comes down to your chin and tilts and turns it to get every angle. “You can swallow now.”

With permission you finally close your mouth and get rid of some of the salty taste. Crocodile’s pointer finger comes up and drags up your cheek where some of Buggy’s release landed and collects it. You expect him to bring it to your mouth but instead it comes up to Buggy’s.

“But you can help clean up, can’t you?” Crocodile grins almost maliciously but Buggy has no problems opening up and cleaning off Crocodile’s finger with his tongue.

Transfixed by the scene you don’t notice Mihawk until his hand is on your shoulder and you look up to see him with a washcloth in his hand. “Someone has to actually clean up.”

The warm, damp washcloth feels good on your face and you are very appreciative of Mihawk not letting you feel too dirty for too long. When he’s done he pulls you up to your feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Now Crocodile’s reward, what do you say?” You nod and eagerly get on the bed. On your hands and knees you arch your back, pressing your chest to the sheets as you held your ass in the air.

Crocodile passes Buggy over to Mihawk before stalking over to you. You always felt like prey under his gaze and it thrilled you to no end. His hand smooths over your back and then harshly grabs a handful of your ass.

“You always know just what I need, don’t you. What a good little assistant.” You crane your neck to see him as he spreads your ass cheeks, groaning when he sees how soaked you are.

“I know Hawkeyes did a number on you but I’d bet good money most of this is you getting off on being a fucktoy huh?” He’s kneeling on the bed behind you now, fingers playing on the outside of your folds.

“Just-“ You whine as Crocodile presses close to you, his chest over your back and his dick pressed against your entrance. “Just wanted to be good for you-“

“Oh doll you’re always so good for us.” He kisses up your spine as his tip presses into you. “And now everyone knows not to fucking touch you.”

He slams into you all at once, shoving you down into the bed as you loudly moan. Gripping the sheets tight under you, you do your best just to keep yourself upright as Crocodile fucks you at a relentless pace. His hand holds your hip and gives his thrusts extra power as he takes over all movement, letting you turn over all power to him.

“Do you like that we hurt that man for you?

That we humiliated him before killing him in front of all those people?” His voice is barely more than a growl as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls.

“Fuck- yes- I do-“ You admit, voice muffled by the sheets your face is being shoved into with every harsh thrust.

“That’s fucking right- you’re just as twisted as us aren’t you?”

You can only whine in response as his pace picks up, the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filling the space between his words. Crocodile spits out praises as he hammers into you and you know neither of you are going to last much longer.

“Oh you’re close- you get so fucking tight-“ Crocodile’s hand leaves your hip and wraps around your throat, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. The new angle has your toes curling. “Need you to cum all over my cock- that’ll be my reward huh?”

You can’t nod with his grip on your throat but the moan you release at his words is probably answer enough. The angle, the way his hand is restricting your airway just enough, his filthy words right in your ear- it’s all too much. Your arms come up and around to wrap tightly around Crocodile’s neck as your orgasm takes you.

Crocodile doesn’t let up though, biting down into your shoulder as his pace stutters before one final deep thrust as he spills inside you. He holds you there for a few moments, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder where he left a bite mark. Gently he lets you down while finally pulling out, the mixture of his and your cum finally dripping out of you.

Exhausted, you’re not sure who cleans you up but soon you find Buggy laying in bed with you and you curl up into his side as you wait for the other to join you in bed. It doesn’t take them long- or you fell asleep for a bit- but soon the bed is full and you’re surrounded by body heat.

Maybe it should disturb you how much you relished in seeing Buggy and Crocodile covered in blood, the sick joy you felt when you heard what happened. But when your nights end like this- warm, safe, protected- you realize you don’t care. This was your life now, why not love every aspect of it?

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #the cross guild x reader #cross guild x reader #discordantwritings

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spirit-lanterns · 6 months

Note

I feel like when alpha!Natasha was young, like before all the shit that happened in Belobog, she wanted a big family and couldn’t wait to find a potential omega to mate

Unfortunately due to the events that happened after (her brother, the underworld being sealed off and abandoned, etc.) she kinda just gave up on that dream because it seemed unrealistic due to her current predicament. Instead she dedicated her life to helping the underworld as best she could (she made Wildfire, takes care of multiple patients without rest, etc.)

It’s only after the Astral Express helps Belobog does the thought of settling down reach Natasha’s mind again. She still doesn’t think it’s possible to have this dream of hers because now she’s old and not as spry as she used to be, but it’s ok. The underworld needs her still anyway, Wildfire is her family and she can always live her dream of having kids by taking care of the kids of the underworld like she always does. Yes everything is ok she says as she stomps of the yearning she feels for this dream of a family of hers

Then one day a young omega from the overworld, aka us, comes down to help out the underworld with supplies as such and they end of meeting. We’re already starstruck by the talented and caring doctor, while Natasha also shows interest she does not act upon it, still thinking that she’s too old to be desirable to potential mates

Alphas by tradition are supposed to court their potential partners, this is a tradition that many of the older generation adhere to, but the younger generation does not seem to care for it. So we start to court her to be her mate, this shocks Natasha because she’s an alpha and you are an omega, traditionally it should go the other way when courtship happens, but also that you want her just as much as she wants you

In the end we do get together and finally fulfilled Natasha’s dream of having a big family. Our first cycle together ended up happening in her office and she was so sweet yet rough, giving us praises for being so good while fucking us like she hates us, surprisingly had so much stamina. Natasha not only wants to prove how she can satisfy us in a sexual sense just like she does in a romantic sense, but also so desperately wants to fill us with her pups. She’s finally getting her dream of settling down, with a lovely mate and having so many pups, how can she pass this up. Not only do we come out of this marked by the gentle alpha but also brimming with her cum, we’re definitely pregnant after this q

Ohhh, poor Natasha 🥺 I can’t imagine giving up on your dreams of having a family…

Luckily when the borders of Belobog are finally opened up thanks to the Express crew, Natasha’s dream of finding a mate is much more open now! She’s hopeful, but logically she knows she’s a bit too old to find a mate. She’s not even sure if she’s as fertile as she was before, so she’s worried that if she finds a mate younger than her, they’d be disappointed she can’t breed them properly :(

However, the moment she meets you, that thinking changes. It seems that with recent generations, you being the excited, spry omega you were, you wanted nothing more than to court Natasha as she seemed like the perfect mate for you! Natasha was surprised to say the least. She thought you would go for an alpha around your age, but when you said you picked her to be yours, she was absolutely smitten.

She couldn’t contain herself that night, she was too excited at the prospect having a beautiful, young mate, and a litter of her own! Shes gently pulling you to a bed, hovering above you in a mating press and mentally praying that she’s still fertile, stuffing you full of her cum over and over again till your legs were sore.

A few weeks later, you found out you were pregnant. Natasha had never been happier, practically picking you up in her arms and bringing you back down for round 2 💕

#🕯️spirit box #omegaverse au

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year

Note

hello…………..kiyoomi crumbs pls

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

*patting the hood of a car* this bad boy can hold so much bf!sakusa

cw: swearing and the msby jackals being idiots

you checked your phone again and prayed you weren't keeping him waiting for a long time.

"hi, is omi still in there?"

"he should be just about finishing up, but you can go ahead. you know your way around the place by now," the security guard states warmly, giving you the go-ahead to navigate the back halls of the gym to the men's locker room. even if you did find yourself lost, it'd be easy to get to your destination by simply following the banter of your boyfriend's three very spirited teammates. their voices grow louder with every step and you have to stifle a laugh when you start to pick up the bits and pieces of their conversations.

"and then she told me i was being delusional! can you imagine? me? delusional?"

"remind us all when you met this girl, atsumu?"

"...last week."

"dare i say, she has a point," deadpans the smooth, low voice of your boyfriend. he always knew the best ways to press atsumu's buttons, making it very difficult to invite his friends over for dinner without harmless arguing occurring at the kitchen table. "it's okay; i'm sure you'll find another 'love of your life' next week."

"shoyo, the fuck are you doin' with my shirt?"

"can you all please put clothes on? if sakusa's partner walks in here and all of you are naked-"

"i'm not naked!"

"we know you're not, bokuto, but atsumu needs to put his tits away before i cut them off with scissors," kiyoomi quips and you fail to muffle your snort from around the corner. the room quiets in an instant and you hear a faint fuck before he finally comes to find you. he's still slightly sweaty from practice, all toned muscle and messy hair and bright eyes that only twinkle for you. "hi, beautiful."

"hey, handsome. you done threatening physical violence in there?" your eyebrow quirks in question and he shakes his head tiredly, tugging you into him by the belt loops of your pants. your arms rest on his shoulders, brushing stray curls from his forehead.

"not yet. i still have some unfinished business."

"mmm, with razors, i hear." you nod in solemn understanding and his mouth quirks into a half-smile, another expression of his that was reserved only for you. his lips press a kiss to your temple in a rare show of public affection, inhaling your presence with his eyes shut contentedly. "i could be wrong, but a federal offense will probably screw up your olympic prospects."

"if you tell me to do it, i'll do it," he murmurs absentmindedly and you chuckle under your breath.

"what, murder atsumu or not murder atsumu?"

"dealer's choice." he places one more kiss on your nose before resting his forehead against yours like he'd been away from you for decades. to you, it was a few hours; but, to him, it felt like a century. "i missed you a lot."

"i can tell. you're very affectionate tonight." his forehead scrunches in confusion at the implication of your statement.

"what am i, a cat?" the incredulity in his voice makes you giggle and, despite his best efforts to remain stoic, you can tell he's fighting back a smile too.

"in some ways, yes. you do tend to leave hair all over our couch, and you make a lot of noise when you're hungry." he makes a proud noise in the back of his throat and lightly pinches the flesh of your sides in defiance.

"i'll buy us a new one if you want me to," he promises. you stopped sharing product ads with omi on instagram because he tended to buy you anything that you sent him, even if it was just a funny little trinket you saw on an etsy shop. these items included but were not limited to stationary, plushies, athleticwear, and, of course, furniture.

"you don't need to do that."

"maybe i already have."

"thanks for letting me know that your newest love language is buying me a sofa."

"my love language is doing whatever you want me to do, angel." you both jump when a loud crash comes from the locker room around the corner, followed by hinata's panicked rambling and bokuto saying "that was fucking epic!" atsumu, you'd guess, is either the culprit or the object that caused the crash. you gently push omi's sturdy shoulders away and he groans in protest. "do i have to?"

"wrangle your team, put some proper clothes on, and take me to dinner, lover boy."

"as you wish."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyu crack #ask iris!

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theillusionmachine · 9 months

Text

Where Love and Confusion Begin (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader)

"Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 25th, 1893 The Yule Ball... Wear your best formal attire-

Everywhere I turned I seemed to hear about. Countless after countless bouts of excited, restless chatter would always manage to come echoing back to me. And while I understood why most would be excited about the prospect of a ball, I on the other hand couldn't help but feel... downright anxious about it all.

I knew it sounded silly, completely dramatic. Afterall, I had been through a lot worse things during my time in Hogwarts. But for some reason, my mind, my thoughts, my worries just couldn't relax. And when they did for a short while, they'd slowly begin to drift back onto one person...

Ominis Gaunt.

I was practically infatuated with the man. For a multitude of reasons, besides his obviously good looks. He was marvelously kind, had a whit so quick it could make your head spin, and could be snarky and sarcastic one minute. But caring and loving the next.

Ominis simply made it hard not to love him.

But he did, however, make it hard for me to even think about going to the Yule Ball with him. We were friends, close ones despite the fact that I had only been at Hogwarts for a couple of years. Our friendship would be something I'd always treasure, something I would never want to ruin because my love for him clouded my judgement.

And the thought of losing him because of that was enough to make me nauseous.

"Enjoying a cat nap, are we?"

I slowly cracked open one of my eyes, wincing slightly at the beam of sunlight that had been slowly warming me as I laid down in one of the many alcoves at Hogwarts. But once my vision focused fully, Sebastian came into view. Grinning down at me cheekily.

"I wasn't napping." I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. "Just enjoying the sun.

"You could've gone outside for that." Sebastian suggested, now sitting down on the floor too.

"It's freezing, you sit outside for an hour." I replied, a little too snappy for my liking.

But Sebastian wasn't fazed by my crass mood in the slightest. In fact, Sebastian seemed to find me to be quite humorous. "Aww, is someone missing their nap partner?" He teased, making me grumble in annoyance.

"Oh, shut it, I don't know what you're talking about."

Sebastian let an exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly on his hands before continuing. "You both are insufferably stubborn you know that right? Ominis was in a terrible mood after History of Magic because you decided to ditch today."

I scoffed at Sebastian theatrics, not even bothering to hide the fact that I had rolled my eyes. "History of Magic is painfully boring, anyone who goes to that class will be in a ba-"

"History of Magic is tiring enough, but her not being their made it worse." Sebastian deadpanned, trying his hardest to imitate Ominis's tone.

"Well, I am very entertaining." I replied sarcastically. "And can you really blame me for skipping out on that class? I swear if I hear one more time how many wizarding cloaks were destroyed during the Goblin Rebellion, I'll lose whatever mind I have left."

"It's 632." Sebastian couldn't help but laugh at my less than amused expression.

"Are you finished? Or did you actually approach me to talk about something important?"

"Yes." He began, clearing his throat. "If you would stop changing the topic that is."

"I am not-"

"Ah, ah, that's the same thing Ominis said to me after classes. You two are so incredibly in sync today." Sebastian teased. "It's quite adorable really. He's moody, you're moody, you're happy, he's smiling up a storm, if you've disappeared to... god knows where, a majority of the time he's right there with you."

It annoyed me to no end how right on the money he is...

"What're you getting at Sebastian?" I questioned meekly, trying my hardest to ignore the flush I was beginning to feel on my cheeks.

"I think we both know exactly what I'm getting at." Sebastian spoke bluntly, raising up from the stone-cold floor. "Maybe you should ask him, Ominis can get into his head rather easily. And you know that can stop him from saying what he wants to."

Sebastian then walked away, leaving me practically dumbfounded on the floor.

Ask him... ask him... merlin I don't know if that idea made me feel better or worse. The idea of being rejected by him was painful. But maybe if I asked to go with him as friends that it would work...

"Sebastian, you might've actually had a good idea for once."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had decided to skip dinner for the night, not feeling too hungry after the talk I had with Sebastian. I figured a moment alone would give me enough clarity to decide whether I'd actually bite the bullet and asked Ominis to the ball.

"Ah, there you. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

But a moment alone in this school was a rarity... Of course, he was here... why wouldn't he be?

"Ominis, I figured you would've been in the Great Hall for dinner." I greeted, trying to keep my nervous laughter from bubbling up to the surface.

"Wasn't hungry." He answered nonchalantly, turning back to face the fireplace of our common room.

I stood there for a moment, in silence, completely unsure of what to say next. But Ominis beat me to it, filling the silence before I got the chance to.

"Aren't you going to sit?" He began, I hadn't even noticed he had turned his head again, his eyes somehow managing to land right on me.

Just like they always managed to do...

"Or were you really avoiding me?"

That sentence managed to snap me out of my tongue-tied state. That nervous laugh I held in before leaked out before I had the chance to stop it this time around. "You know I wasn't avoiding you."

I finally moved from my spot, walking over and sitting next to him on the couch. I couldn't help but gaze over at him. His hand was lightly raised in the air, his wand beaming red at the tip as a book rested in his lap. A small smile curved his pale pink lips, he looked completely at ease. Which after the past couple of years was a nice sight to see.

"You're nervous." Ominis muttered, and though his voice was soft, I couldn't help but tense up. "You keep bouncing your leg... I know you only do that when you're anxious about something."

"I didn't even realize I was doing it." I admitted, leaning back into the cush couch cushions.

Ominis copied my movements, leaning back against the cushions a mere moment later. His book was now abandoned, the pages of it turning carelessly on their own accord. "Something on your mind?"

I took in a steady breath; thankful it had not trembled like I thought it would. "Maybe." I answered coyly, making Ominis's small smile bloom slightly.

"Are those thoughts the reason I've hardly heard from you all day?"

damn it damn it damn it... think of something to say quick... don't come off as suspicious...

"Hey, maybe you were the one avoiding me. Last time I checked I haven't heard from you too much either today." I deflected, trying to sound humorous.

"Hmm," Ominis hummed. "You've got a good point there... but I have a reason for my... disappearance." He added vaguely.

I leaned forward trying to get a good look at his face. The shadows of the fire danced along his face, illuminating his marble eyes beautiful. His expression was humorous too, and I knew exactly why...

"You know I hate it when you leave me hanging like that." I grumbled, making him let out a smooth chuckle.

"I merely wanted to avoid the constant chatter of the Yule Ball is all. It's beginning to become a bit... excessive."

"You two are so in sync today."

I shook my head, trying to get the words Sebastian had spoken out of my head. "You're telling me, you should hear what I wake up to everyday as of late."

"I could only image." Ominis replied, chuckling once again. "I would rather not hear about something I know I'm not going to."

I could feel my heart sink at his words. I hadn't even thought of the fact that he might not want to go at all.

"N-not going to? Why wouldn't you go?" I questioned curiously.

"A blind person spending their night alone at a ball doesn't exactly sound to enticing to me."

"Oh." Is all I could think to say, I leaned back into the couch contemplating my next move carefully.

Should I ask him... what if he just really doesn't want to go. I don't wanna look stupid.

Screw it...

"Would you want to go with me?"

I tense at my own words, not daring to move to see Ominis's reaction. My heart was racing, so much so it felt as though my pulse was about to burst through my skin. And the silence I was met with after I asked was completely unsettling.

Merlin why did I listen to Seb-

"It's a bit untraditional for a girl to ask a boy to a ball, isn't it?" He pondered.

Okay, it's not a total no... that's a relief.

"Maybe, but it's not like that has to be a bad thing." I replied hopefully. "And besides, it'll be fun to go with someone who... so entertaining to you." I added, attempting to sound boastful, but it just came across as a bit... jumbled.

Another bout of silence came, and in those few moments of the quiet. Part of me wished I was a legilimens, so I could see what was going on inside his mind... so I could hear what he thought of all of this.

When finally, I got my answer.

"I think it'd be nice to go with you."

Oh, my Merlin he actually said yes...

I couldn't stop the smile that began to form, a bubbling shyness began to boil to the surface. And my heart still definitely felt like it was going to beat out of its chest. With what little shred of coolness I had left, I finally was able to reply.

"It's a date...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then, the 25th rolled around... a day I was dreading at one point. But now felt so excited about it that I couldn't sleep.

I felt giddy, or like a swarm of butterflies was fluttering throughout me. I felt restless, I couldn't stay in one place, and I fought the urge to not pace most of the night. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to care... and with every passing hour that I stayed awake, it just revitalized me.

Though, judging from the bags in my eyes, my body didn't exactly share the same sentiment I did.

But thank goodness for Samantha Dale...

I never would've guessed she had such a knack for Herbology. Yet, when she let me up into her dorm in the Ravenclaw tower, after we agreed to get ready together. A whole spread of concoctions was set up.

"You know there is such a thing as beauty sleep." Samantha teased as she stared at my reflection in her vanity.

She carefully places a mint green cream under my eyes, making a pleasant tingling sensation hit me. "That'll clear those bags up in no time!" She stated confidently.

"Thank you." I began to bounce my leg again as the nerves began to creep up on me.

"Nervous?" Samantha asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"Is it obvious?" I asked in reply, letting out a shaky chuckle.

"Just a smidge." She spoke considerately. "But I don't think you need any reason to fret. I find you and Ominis to be a lovely pairing."

My eyes shot up from my hands to gaze at her and I could feel an eyebrow raise questioningly. "P-paring? as in?"

"A couple?" Samantha replied, just as questioningly as I did.

"Oh... we aren't together... like that." I muttered sheepishly.

Samantha chuckled, looking over at me incredulously. "There's no way! Honestly, a lot of people already assume you two are together."

"Really?"

Samantha scoffed, shaking her head at me. "Look, I've seen the way you look at him. And I've seen the way he is around you. People who aren't in love don't act like that."

"Hey, I'm not denying that I've fallen for him." I admitted honestly. "It's just... a hard thing to say to someone you've grown so close to."

Samantha just eyed me for a moment, seemingly taking my words in. "You think he doesn't feel the same way, do you?"

I felt my lips curve into a bittersweet smile. My sights falling onto my hands again. "It's hard to believe that he would."

"Hmm... but, you two are going to the ball together?"

I chuckled at her puzzled words before nodding my head. "Sounds maddening, doesn't it?"

Samantha was quick to shake her head, a sudden, bright smile coming second later. "Not maddening, but an opportunity. You should say something to him!"

"Eh..."

"No, no, just listen for a second!" Samantha exclaimed. "It'd be the perfect opportunity to, honestly this sounds like something that would be in a romance novel!"

"But this isn't a romance novel."

"Exactly! So, it'll be even more beautiful, when the pair of you are slow dancing... and the music and the others around you fade because all you can focus on is yourselves. And before you know it, you two will kiss."

That truly does sound picture perfect...

"Why would it be more beautiful?"

Samantha lovesick smile faded into fondness. "Because it'll be real, and I'll know that the love you feel will be real as well."

I took in a deep breath, trying not to get consumed by the possibilities Samantha planted in my head. But I simply couldn't...

"You have such a way with words." I huffed playfully. "So, I'm really going to do this? I'm... I'm going to tell him that I... love him."

Samantha nodded; her expression full of enthusiasm. "That's exactly what you're going to do! You'll arrive as friends and leave together reveling in love."

"Won't leave tonight as friends." I muttered moreso to myself to... pep myself up.

But Samantha managed to hear me. "Exactly." She spoke, her tone full of satisfaction. "Now, enough chit chat. We must get our hair done." She added, jumping up from her bed before walking over to me.

"Yes let's..."

As I gazed at myself in the mirror, and I felt the occasional tugs of my hair, my mind began to wander. And soon enough, it wandered right onto Ominis. I was sure he was being a lot more composed than me. But part of me wished that he was just as giddy as I was. Or had thought of little scenarios about how out night would go like I had.

But I seriously doubt that would be going through his mind..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross, shift, pull, tie...

"Ominis?"

Cross, pull... shift, tie

"Uh, Ominis?"

Tie... tie... tie...

"Ominis! Are you trying to fix your tie or choke yourself?" My friends' words were humorous. And I could hear him try to, but fail to hold back a laugh.

"I couldn't tell you honestly." I admitted, laughing myself as I attempted to tug my fingers out of the knot, I managed to get them in.

I could hear Sebastian begin to walk over to me before I suddenly felt a slight tugging on my undone tie. "You can slick back and swirl your hair into... merlin knows how many swirls; you can somehow manage to perfectly button hundreds of those tiny damn things. But you can't fix a tie?" Sebastian muttered humorously.

I let out an exaggerated sigh before I replied. "I can't be perfect at everything can I?"

"Oh, shove off." Sebastian rebutted, breaking out into a laughter. "There, now that looks like a bowtie... you're welcome princess." He added mockingly.

I sighed, attempting to give him a glare. "Don't call me that."

Sebastian bellowed out another laugh before his footsteps began to wander in our room once again. "What would you prefer I call you?"

"Not that." I scoffed, carefully sitting back down onto my bed.

My thoughts began to push to the forefront of my mind, and it didn't take too long for it to fixate itself on her. Since she asked me, I couldn't help but spend many nights thinking about us... about her. Or how tonight would go, if by the end of the night we'd still be nothing more than friends... or something more.

Merlin did I wish we'd end up being something more. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this... facade with her.

"Ah, what's going on in that mind of yours?" Sebastian questioned but before I even attempted to respond he cut me off. "Is it her?"

"When did you get so bloody... observant?"

"I always have been, dear friend of mine. You just never bothered to notice." Sebastian boasted, I could only imagine how cocky his demeanor was as he spoke.

"My apologies, I've simply been too distracted by all the dabbling in the Dark Arts you did." I replied sarcastically.

"Hey, I stopped... eventually." Sebastian grumbled. "S-stop changing the subject... you two are way too good at it. You must've rubbed off on her."

I simply smiled at his words, soaking in the thought of her once again. The smooth sound of her voice, her raspberry iris perfume, her touch. I could drown happily in the thoughts of her, day in and day out.

I couldn't help but not to... I was hopelessly in love with her. And part of me was terrified because of it. But it was a fear I was thankful to experience in some way, and I'd experience it time and time again if it meant I could have her.

But I knew it my heart that I would never get that lucky...

"You should tell her, Ominis." Sebastian suggested, taking me out of my head once again.

I shook my head at his words, doubt began to replace the feelings of fondness I felt before. "I don't know..."

"What's there not to know? Tonight is the perfect opportunity to."

"I don't want to ruin things with her." I muttered lowly.

"Trust me, you wouldn't." Sebastian reassured me. "And, it's better to say something to her now. 'Cause it'll eat away at you mate, and you don't want that."

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned, genuinely wondering how his mind could work so optimisticly.

Sebastian let out a soft scoff, as if he was stating the obvious. "Friends don't act the way you two act with each other. And last time I checked I never saw you and Anne cuddled up on the common room couch."

"Well-"

"Or had Anne playing with your hair while you napped on her lap."

"Okay but-"

"And I know for a fact that I've never seen Anne get... viscerally envious because she heard a group of girls talking about trying to slip you a love potion."

"Okay, okay, I get your point." I managed to speak, letting out a huff. "I understand what you're saying, I do."

"Ah, finally, you admit I'm right. Your life would be so much easier if you said that more." Sebastian boasted once again. "So, you're going to tell her tonight then?"

"I am." I spoke strongly, though I couldn't help but feel that doubt that had stopped me so many times before seep through. "I can't believe I'm going to, but I am."

Sebastian sounded thrilled as he let out an elated laugh. "Finally! Seriously, watching you two pinning over each other was starting to get old."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I apologized, rolling my eyes at Sebastian's theatrics.

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Sebastian replied nonchalantly.

"Now let's get a move on, you don't want to keep your lady waiting too long now do we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second I left the Samantha's dorm and made my journey back to the Slytherin common room. It was like my nerves continuously dashed away with each step I took. I felt levelheaded, as cool as one could be. It almost eerie to me, how I felt so nervous one minute but then completely calm the next.

Things just... felt right, like whatever was bound to happen tonight was simply meant to be. And I couldn't wait to spend my night with him, gently swaying as time seemingly ceased to exist.

Damn Samantha and her romance novels.

"Well, someone knows how to dress up." I turned my head, following the sound of Sebastian voice.

But any reply I attempted to come up with was lost the second I saw Ominis.

Green looks amazing on him...

"Wow," I began, sitting up from the arm of the plush couch. "You look fantastic."

Ominis was stood there, that same, at ease smile I looked forward to seeing so much greeted me tauntingly. "I'm sure you do as well." He spoke gently, my hands were then lightly gripped and placed in his hold.

My eyes mindlessly wandered down to them, and the longer my hands were place in his the more I realized how warm his felt compared to mind.

"Well, on that note, I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Sebastian teased, quickly exiting the common room soon after.

The silence that came after Sebastian left was comfortable. There was no pressure or... plaguing thoughts to think of something to say. It was as if we were taking each other in, or simply just wanted a moment to ourselves.

I began to trace the faint lines I could feel on his palms before moving over to the next. Ominis's smooth laughter came soon after, making me look up to gage his reaction.

"Reading palms now, are you?"

"Mhm," I replied, smiling softly. "You want to know what I see?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Okay, I see..." I paused, tracing over a particularly deep line, one that almost felt like a scar. "That you have great hands."

I could see that he was taken aback, but not uncomfortable. A light, red flush soon bloomed on his cheeks, illuminating his blue marble eyes.

"And, that your cheeks will glow with a marvelous red tinge." I added whimsically.

"Stop it." Ominis muttered, a light laugh following his meek words.

"Fine." I relented easily, smoothly dropping his hands before hooking my arm with his. "We have a ball to get to anyway."

It didn't take too long to find our way to the great hall, that had been transformed into an icy yet stunning ballroom. The sounds of the classical were an easy guide for the pair of us.

"There seems to be a lot of people here." Ominis spoke, I could feel his arm tense under my hold.

"Seems too." I replied nonchalantly. "Doesn't surprise me too much, after all, all we've heard about these past few weeks is the ball.

"I just... don't want to bump into anyone."

I took my eyes off of the crowd and back towards him. He looked nervous, unsure of himself.

Can't have that...

"Oh, don't worry about that, you won't." I reassured him, giving his arm a light squeeze. "That's what your lovely date is here for." I added teasingly, bumping my hip against his.

Though the worry was still evident on his face, Ominis had begun to smile. Hopefully I was able to ease his nerves slightly. "You definitely are lovely."

"Hmm, so are you." I complimented, before gently guiding him through the crowded hall. "More than lovely." I grinned as I saw his cheeks flushed again.

"Darling..." Though he sentence stopped once I did, finally managing to find an open enough place to dance.

Wordlessly, I clasped his hand, Ominis seemed to catch onto what I was doing and was quick to glide his hand from my ribs to the middle of my back. My breath became caught in my throat at his touch and my posture straightened.

Don't tense, don't tense... we're just dancing.

"Is this okay?" He nearly whispered; I hadn't even noticed how close we were to each other, as we glided... cheek to cheek.

"P-perfect." The breath that was got in my throat finally escaped as I spoke. "Wouldn't want to be in this embrace with anyone else."

"I don't think you mean that." Ominis stated bashfully, delicately turning us around before we began to glide again.

"I know that I do." I answered defiantly. "I honestly couldn't imagine dancing with somebody else."

"Really?" He didn't sound completely doubtful this time around, honestly, he began to sound a bit humorous.

"Are you doubting my honesty, Ominis?" I asked, trying to match his playful tone.

"No, no... i just think you haven't... considered your options." He replied carefully, trying his best to articulate his words.

"Hmm, let's me think then... Amit? Nice, but no. Garreth? He's nice as well but not my type... and he's definitely into Natty."

"Sebastian?" Ominis chimed in, his face becoming void of much emotion.

"No, I imagine he'd step on my feet all night. That sounds less than pleasant does it not?"

"You have a fair point." Ominis agreed, before a slightly sinister grin took over. "Leander."

I grumbled at the mention of the infamous Gryffindor's name, the vibrations of Ominis's laugh could be felt soon after. "Don't make me retch."

Ominis's hand began rub circles into my back, I began to smile at the sensation, closing my eyes as he began to lull me into relaxation.

But then...

"So, why, would you choose me?" He asked, my eyes opening once again.

"Wh-why are you-"

"I just want to know." He cut me off gently. "It's been baffling to me as to why you chose to go with me."

"Because I know you-"

"You know Sebastian quite well."

"Not in the same way I do you... not in the same way that you know me too." I explained, finding it hard to believe I was starting to be so open about something I was so used to shoveling down.

But I wasn't going to stop now.

"You... you make me feel safe, and I know that I can trust you with anything I come to you with."

"I'm not always the most... understanding with some of the things you've spoken to me about." Ominis argued, as if he was trying to downplay my points.

"And I love how honest you are with me. You don't fill me with false confidence, or some... mindless delusions. You're my voice of reason, my tie to reality."

His grip began to tighten on my, and I could see his jaw begin to tense. "Reality isn't always the sweetest."

"You make it sweet."

He stopped his movements at my words, his eyes shut, and his head lowered, shaking. "Stop it." He muttered lowly.

"Why?" I spoke quietly. "Why do you want me to stop?"

"You don't mean it, you, you can't mean it."

"You know I'm no liar." I stated bluntly. "I mean every word... and I mean it when I say that I love-"

A harsh bump made the pair of us stumble, our hold finally coming apart. My words fell mindlessly, like the many specks of enchanted snow that surrounded us.

"Oh I'm sorry!" A voice spoke, clearly beggining to panic at what they had just done.

"It's fine don't-" The sound of hurried footsteps stop me once again, and I didn't need to turn around to know who they had belonged to. I didn't bother to try and finish my sentence, instead opting to hurry after Ominis before I lost him completely.

That wand really did imprint this place in his mind...

I could hardly keep up with him as he ran through the mostly desolate hall. The only people who were lingering in them were broken hearted girls, and the occasional... handsy couples.

Thankfully, before Ominis could fully disappear from my sight. I managed to see him slip outside into the courtyard. I hurried toward the large double doors, hoping I had the chance to catch him.

"Ominis wait!" I called out, my breath desperately trying to calm itself.

He was at the now frozen fountain, leaning against the stone tensely. "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked through clenched teeth.

I stepped down from the snow-covered stone steps, carefully approaching him. "Doing what?"

"Toying with me like this!" His voice was trembling, and he was clearly upset.

Was I too forward? Did he not take what I was saying seriously?

"Toying with you?" I repeated distantly. "Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

He turned his head toward me, his eyes seemingly swimming in emotions he was struggling to contain.

"Ominis, my emotions, what I've said tonight, was never a game. It's real to me and it always has been." I admitted, feelings of vulnerability began to creep in. "I- I honestly, don't know how much blunter I need to be for you to believe me but, whatever it takes I'll do it!"

"Darling," Ominis called out fondly, he took in a deep breath before he continued. Most likely wanting to compose himself. "I'm sorry I... It's my mind toying with me, not you."

I grasped his hands, gripping them in hopes of emphasizing my point. "Well, tell your mind to stuff it." I huffed, Ominis bit his lip, holding back a bout of laughter.

I then laid my head against his chest, and I felt him rest his against mine soon after. "Friends don't act this way with one another, do they?" His voice was deep, vibrating slightly through his chest.

"No... and most don't cuddle by the fireplace or... spend all night talking, not even caring about how exhausted they felt because... they were with each other.

I felt him drop my hands from his before his arms wrapped themselves around me. "I treasured those nights, you know that?"

"Feelings mutual." I spoke against his chest, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. "And I hope they're still mutual when I tell you that I've fallen in love with you, Ominis."

My heart at that point felt like it was about to burst through my chest. But at the same time, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of it.

I had never felt so free yet so... terrified at the same time.

One of his hands that had been embracing me began to travel up my body. Undoubtably leaving goosebumps in its wake. My jaw was then cupped, and my breath stuttering once I felt his thumb gently tugged on my lower lip. Before gently tilting my head up toward him.

"Definitely mutual." Ominis muttered, his lips tauntingly ghosting over mine. "Is this okay, love?"

We weren't leaving tonight as friends.

I closed the gap that kept our lips apart, and with that action, my breath dissipated with it. But I honestly could care less about that. Not when it was stolen away because of Ominis, not when he every touch of his lips and hands warmed nearly every inch of me.

Not when I found out that he actually loved me too.

He pulled away a bit too soon for my liking. A tremor quaked through my body. And I couldn't tell if it was cause my body was finally aware of the cold. Or if I simply missed the sensation of Ominis's touch.

Ominis attempted to warm me up, rubbing my arms as he pulled me closer to him once again. "Cold? Would you like to head back inside?"

A mindless smile curved my lips, a hazy wave of lovesickness came soon after. "No, being here is perfect... nearly perfect."

"Nearly? What can I do to make things picturesque for you?"

"Just... kiss me again, please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello, I hope you all enjoyed this fic. It was actually a request someone sent in, and I absolutely loved writing it!

Sorry if there were some typos. I tried to proofread it as I went along but sometimes things slip by me. I have another request sent in that I'm going to work on next. But if you liked this one and had an idea of your own. Send it in and I'll gladly take the time to write it for you! Until next time, Illusion.

#ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow #yule ball #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy

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