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#i feel like being annoying and complaining a little
bombuni · 3 days
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contains: mean dom jongho x sub reader, kinda humiliation, kinda voyeurism, name-calling, guys i need him to yell and be mean to me so bad
minors dni
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“You never listen.”
You attempt to scoot closer to Jongho as you kneel in front of him, his cologne still infiltrating your senses and clouding your thoughts. Even as he berates you for being a brat and annoying him to no end, he’s elegant. He holds your head up by your hair to make sure your eyes are focused on him, tugging every time he sees your eyes wander to his lap in front of you.
As much as he complains and punishes you, he likes your brattiness. He thinks it’s fun how you try to win again and again, even though you know exactly how it’ll end every time. With you crying and begging for mercy, asking for whatever punishment he sees fit. Your desperate pleas are so cute to him.
Jongho sighs as if his patience is at an end and lets go do your hair, “Take off my belt.”
You look up at him with a dumb look on your face and he challenges you with a raised brow, “Did you hear me? Take ‘em off, cockslut.”
Your eyes well up with tears at his words, but your hands still ache to grab him and make him feel good. The flurry of emotions is frustrating, “D-don’t call me that…”
He smirks down at you, alluring and intimidating but still your Jongho, “It’s what you are, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been sending me all those videos while I was at work. Cause you’re a cockslut.”
Jongho unbuckles his belt before bringing his pants down. He’s stiff and so fucking picturesque as pre-cum drips down the front of his boxers. The bulge in front of your eyes is already making you soak the carpet below you, but he grabs his cock and starts palming himself, excited by the sight of your pretty eyes leaking tears just for him.
“Shit…you wanna suck this cock, don’t you?”
You nod dumbly, hands twitching and moving towards him. You’re surprised when he tuts at you, bringing you to a stop as he removes his boxers and lets his cock spring free. It’s so pretty and chubby, leaking all over itself and you’re practically salivating at the sight before you.
He grabs his cock, firmly gripping the base before he starts jerking off right in front of you. The pre-cum makes it so easy for his hand to glide over himself as he keeps his hand moving with his eyes focused on you. Jongho grasps your chin, pulling your mouth open roughly and pushing onto your tongue with his thumb. He plans to keep you open and waiting for him.
He grunts through his motions, “You’re gonna sit there until I finish. Then you can show me how bad you want this cock, do you understand?”
Your bratty attitude breaks free at the sound of this, whiny voice calling out, “Jongho, no…”
Jongho drags his hand down to your tit, pulling it out of your tank top and tugging at your nipple as a deep groan reverberates through him, “Shut up. Keep your mouth open.”
You do as you’re told for once, satiated by the feeling of his hand toying with you as you can do nothing but sit there and let him. You enjoy being his little doll, to be used as he pleases. He keeps going, his hand moving faster as you play with your tits for him. Your mouth still hangs open in wait for him.
You know the tell-tale signs and sounds when he reaches his climax, you know everything about Jongho. It’s your job. As his groans become louder and deeper and his hand starts stuttering, you lean down and close your eyes as you feel his cum splatter onto your tongue, the salty taste satiating the smallest of tinges in your stomach. You feel a belonging and a pleasure fill you when he reminds you who you belong to.
Jongho drips his last remnants into your mouth with a flushed face and panting breaths, “You look pretty with my cum in your mouth,” you swallow when he finishes, bringing your tongue out again to show him and he smiles sadistically, “You just look pretty being my slut.”
Jongho leans down to press a kiss to your lips, fighting his tongue inside you to remind you who’s in charge. In case you forgot.
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bom note: hi..im still here.. still thinking about freaky jongho. recently rewatched my fav movie (secretary 2002 pls watch if u want a good version of 50 shades of grey) and got inspired
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hencheri · 16 hours
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader
warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.
wc: 1.2k
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you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.
he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.
you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.
you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.
"hyuck?"
he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. his has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.
"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."
"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.
he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?
"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.
a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."
you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.
you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.
he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.
"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."
your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."
"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.
you frown, hurt by his action.
"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."
he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.
"please," you beg a bit desperately.
"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.
"what- no, that's not-"
"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."
you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?
"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."
he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."
"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.
"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."
haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.
"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.
"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?
"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.
he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.
"what? no way, how can you think that!?"
he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.
"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"
you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.
he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.
"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."
you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.
you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.
his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.
"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.
his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.
"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."
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ssa-dado · 3 days
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3 - A Philosopher and a Lawyer walk into a Cafè
Aaron Hotchner's x bau!fem!reader
Genre: fluff, sapiosexual fluff
Summary: You and Hotch's playful rivalry deepens as you bring him a coffee, sparking witty banter and an unspoken connection. You work together on a complex case involving philosophical murders, impressing each other with your insights. Amid teasing about a fictional romance between Rossi and Gideon, you and Hotch’s bond strengthens, both appreciating the natural rhythm of working together while unknowingly being quietly supported by your mentors. Warnings: Usual graphic CM kind of case, Reader being a Prehistoric Reid, Gissi being so strong they even named a town for them.
Word Count: 4.8k words
Dado's Corner: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis. Mark my words, they could be helpful in the long run. We might get close to the second stage sooner than you think.
previous part: Early birds
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It was another early morning at the BAU, and you found yourself in the local coffee shop just around the corner from the office. The morning chill clung to your coat as you stepped inside, the familiar hum of the espresso machine and the comforting aroma of fresh coffee filling the air.
You you were eager to finally being able to order your usual - a double espresso - as you found yourself already savouring the taste and smell of it, especially after all those days of being forced to drink the burnt coffee they provided at work. On a whim, decided to grab something for Hotch as well.
He had been beating you to the office every day, and despite your friendly rivalry, you knew the coffee at work was terrible. You imagined Hotch downing that bitter, overbrewed mess every morning, and the thought made you grimace.
"One black coffee, no sugar," you told the barista, after all, Hotch seemed like the kind of man who appreciated perfectly crafted simplicity.
Arriving at the office, you made your way to the bullpen, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction at the thought of catching Hotch off guard. As expected, there he was, already at his desk, his navy suit perfectly pressed, tie in place, and eyes glued to his case file. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, both annoyed and impressed by his consistency.
Hotch glanced up as you approached, a faint look of surprise crossing his features when he noticed the second coffee cup in your hand.
“Morning,” you said casually, setting the coffee on his desk. “Thought you might appreciate something better than the sludge they serve here.”
Hotch looked down at the cup, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes before he masked it with his usual composed expression. “Thank you. I’ve been meaning to bring my own, but, well, you know how it is.” He picked up the cup, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied sigh.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze meeting yours with a wry smile. “So, what’s the excuse this time? You figured you’d never make it here before me, so you’re hedging your bets by blaming your tardiness on stopping for coffee?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Actually, I thought you might need a little recognition for all your hard work. I didn’t think you’d still be going along with this whole rivalry.” You gave him a teasing look, knowing full well that he thrived on the unspoken challenge between you.
Hotch’s smirk softened, his eyes briefly betraying how much he appreciated the gesture. “Well, it’s not every day someone bothers to get me a decent cup of coffee, but you don’t have to go out of your way. Even if I’m not complaining.” He took another sip, savoring the taste that was far superior to the bitter brew he usually endured.
You shrugged, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Consider it my one good deed for the day. But don’t think this means I’m letting you win without a fight.”
Hotch nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “I appreciate the coffee, but now I owe you. I’ll have to get you a properly made coffee sometime, just to keep us even.”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as if conspiring. “Hotch, you owe me more than just one coffee for the stress you’ve caused me with this little game.”
He met your gaze with a mock-serious expression. “Oh, I’m not causing you stress. You’re the one driving yourself crazy trying to keep up.”
You scoffed playfully, unable to deny that he had a point. But Hotch’s eyes softened slightly, and he added, “But you’re right. I do owe you. In fact, I’ll make you a deal: I’ll buy you one coffee for every day I beat you here, until the day you finally arrive earlier than me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his offer, shaking your head at the sheer audacity. “You’re such a lawyer, you know that? You’re making a deal that actually only benefits you. What’s stopping me from showing up later on purpose just to drain your wallet?”
Hotch’s smirk widened, and he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe that’s the idea. Give you a bigger distraction, make you think about something other than beating me. It works out well for me in the long run.”
You couldn’t help but admire the cleverness of his plan, realizing that if you fell for it, you’d be distracted by the rewards rather than the competition itself. “Wow. I’ve got to hand it to you, Hotch. In the long run, I’d end up showing up later and later, making it even easier for you. Impressive.”
Hotch raised his cup in mock toast, clearly pleased that you saw right through his scheme. “I’m surprised you caught on. I was hoping to pull one over on you for a while longer.”
You leaned back, crossing your arms with a triumphant smile. “You have no idea how good I am at outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first.”
Hotch chuckled, shaking his head in genuine amusement. “Touché.”
“Deal’s still on, though,” you said, holding out your hand as if to seal it formally. “But don’t think for a second I’m going to change my routine just because you’re bribing me with coffee.”
Hotch took your hand, his grip firm and warm. “Of course not.”
But today, something else was on Hotch’s mind. As you settled in, you noticed Hotch was already deeply absorbed in a case file, the intensity of his focus suggesting he was waiting for something, or someone.
Hotch flipped open the file in front of him, his eyes scanning the pages with a keen intensity. As he read through the details, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This case was unlike most he’d worked on recently: it was layered with philosophical references, obscure quotes, and an unsub whose modus operandi seemed to be influenced by complex philosophical ideologies. He knew exactly who would be perfect to consult on this, but rather than asking for help directly, he had something else in mind.
With a subtle shift, Hotch angled the file just enough to leave the corner of a page visible from your desk. It was a deliberate move, calculated to catch your attention. If he knew you - and by now, he did - you wouldn’t be able to resist taking a peek.
He didn’t have to wait long. You settled into your chair and immediately noticed the stray page peeking out from Hotch’s desk. The faint, familiar names and terms you could make out - “Nietzsche,” “existential morality,” “nihilism” - caught your eye. You tried to concentrate on your own files, but curiosity got the better of you. Your gaze kept drifting back to that page.
Simulating a casual stretch, you leaned forward, pretending to adjust something on your desk while sneaking a better look at Hotch’s case. The notes detailed a series of murders where the unsub left behind cryptic quotes from philosophers, each one linked to the specific way the victims were killed. It was more than just a pattern; it was a philosophical puzzle, woven into every aspect of the crime scenes.
You couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped your lips as the pieces clicked in your mind. “Oh my God,” you muttered, momentarily forgetting where you were.
Hotch glanced up, hiding his satisfaction at your reaction. He had set the bait perfectly, and you had walked right into it. The moment was even more rewarding for him, especially considering your previous bragging about being great at "outsmarting lawyers who think they can outsmart me first", only to now prove that you were, in fact, a little more ordinary than you'd let on. “Something on your mind, Y/N?”
You blinked, realizing you’d been caught. “I- uh, sorry. I couldn’t help but notice... are those quotes from Nietzsche? And Kierkegaard?” You pointed vaguely in the direction of his file, trying not to sound too eager.
Hotch leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider your question. “It seems that way. The unsub is leaving these quotes at the scenes, but the exact reasoning behind his selections is still unclear.”
You moved closer, unable to resist the lure of the philosophical elements woven into the case. “He’s not just picking these at random,” you said, your mind already racing with theories. “Look at this, Nietzsche’s ‘Beyond Good and Evil’ is quoted here, right next to how the victim was killed. He’s making a statement about morality, or the lack of it, in a deeply personal way.”
Hotch nodded, observing the way you immersed yourself in the details. “Go on,” he prompted, genuinely intrigued by your insights.
You flipped through the pages, your fingers tracing the notes. “Nietzsche challenges conventional morality, especially the binary of good and evil. The unsub seems to be echoing that: he’s positioning himself as someone who operates outside the realm of typical moral standards. Each murder isn’t just a killing; it’s a message that he’s transcended normal ethical constraints.”
Hotch watched you intently, his brow furrowing as he processed your explanation. “So he’s justifying his actions through philosophy? Twisting these ideas to fit his narrative?”
You nodded, flipping to another page with a different quote: “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.” You pointed at the crime scene photo beside it. “This victim was restrained, but not in the usual way. It’s almost as if he’s trying to make a point about the nature of becoming what we despise. He’s projecting his internal struggle onto his victims.”
Hotch’s eyes darkened as he absorbed your analysis. “He sees himself as above society’s rules, above good and evil.”
“Exactly,” you replied. “This isn’t just about murder. It’s about the philosophical struggle of defining oneself beyond societal constraints. The unsub doesn’t see himself as evil; he sees himself as someone exploring the limits of human morality.”
Hotch leaned back, clearly impressed. “And what about this one?” He pointed to another crime scene photo. A quote from Kierkegaard was scrawled near the body: “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”
You stared at the quote, considering the implications. “Kierkegaard speaks about existential dread and the overwhelming responsibility of true freedom. By leaving this quote, the unsub is hinting at his own struggle with the concept of freedom, how it can be paralyzing, even deadly. His victims aren’t just casualties; they’re expressions of his own inner turmoil about freedom and choice.”
Hotch glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “So he’s not just a killer, he’s using these murders to explore and express his own philosophical beliefs.”
“Right,” you said, feeling the thrill of the chase. “He’s trying to elevate his crimes to a form of existential art. Each murder is his way of grappling with these big ideas, like a twisted performance meant to provoke thought.”
Hotch studied you, clearly impressed. He’d expected insights, but your depth of understanding went beyond his expectations. “This angle is exactly what we need to get inside his head,” he said quietly.
You smiled, feeling both flattered and invigorated. “I can help. I mean, if you want me to. I’ve studied these philosophies for years: existentialism, nihilism, all of it. I think I can figure out what he’s trying to communicate and why he’s doing it this way.”
Hotch allowed himself another rare smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “So this was your idea all along? You knew I’d snoop.”
Hotch shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “I had a hunch. And I thought you might enjoy this one.”
The two of you spent the rest of the morning poring over the crime scene photos and quotes, dissecting the unsub’s motivations in a way that felt less like work and more like an intense intellectual duel. At one point, Hotch leaned in, pointing at a particular quote scrawled in blood at one of the scenes: “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
“He’s obsessed with the idea of chaos and creation,” Hotch said thoughtfully. “He’s not just killing, he’s trying to create something.”
You nodded, your mind racing. “Nietzsche believed that from chaos comes creation: an artist’s need to disrupt the ordinary to bring something extraordinary into existence. The unsub sees himself as a kind of artist, but his canvas is human life. He’s trying to provoke a reaction, make a statement that only he believes in.”
Hotch’s gaze was sharp, but you could see the respect in his eyes. “He’s creating his own twisted masterpiece.”
“Exactly,” you said. “He’s redefining morality in his own terms, using his victims to express his philosophical journey.”
The hours flew by as you and Hotch continued to unravel the unsub’s mindset, bouncing theories off each other with a rhythm that felt natural. You had found a way to speak the same language, not just of profiling but of the deeper, darker corners of human thought.
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As the day wore on, the bullpen filled with the sounds of the rest of the team returning from their work. Rossi passed by your desks, noticing the two of you deeply engaged in discussion.
“Looks like you’ve finally found your match, Hotch,” Rossi said with a smirk. “She’s giving you a run for your money.”
Hotch didn’t look up from the file, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “She’s good,” he said simply, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.
Rossi raised an eyebrow at you, clearly impressed. “Well, don’t let him work you too hard. And Hotch, try not to steal all her ideas.”
You both laughed, knowing that this case had brought you closer as partners, not just colleagues. The connection between you and Hotch had deepened; it wasn’t just about early mornings or the rivalry anymore. It was about understanding each other on a level that few could reach.
“Thanks, Hotch. For letting me dive into this.” You smiled at him as you packed up for the day.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than usual. “I didn’t just let you help. I needed you on this one.”
As you left the office together, the day’s work behind you, you felt the connection you’d built still very much alive. You were learning, growing, and with Hotch by your side, you felt like you could take on anything. And as you drove home that night, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Hotch felt the same way.
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The next morning, you walked into the office with a heavy sigh. The thrill of unofficially working with Hotch on a complex case filled with philosophical nuances had left you buzzing with excitement the night before, but today was a completely different story.
You knew what awaited you: a mountain of paperwork that had absolutely nothing to do with profiling or unraveling the twisted minds of criminals. Instead, it was the mundane side of the job: filing reports, cross-referencing witness statements, and all the bureaucratic tedium that no one warned you about when you signed up to chase unsubs.
As you approached your desk, your mood dipped even further. Sitting squarely in the center was a towering stack of files, the sight of which nearly made you sick. You let out a groan, dropping your bag on the floor and staring at the pile as if you could will it away with sheer force of will.
“Really?” you muttered to yourself, mentally preparing for a long and grueling morning. But as you reached for the first file, something odd caught your eye. The top sheet had been filled out, every line neatly completed in precise handwriting. You frowned, flipping through the next few files only to find the same, each one meticulously filled out, every detail recorded with the same practiced precision. It didn’t take long for you to recognize the writing: slanted slightly to the left, with the occasional sharp flourish, the unmistakable penmanship of a left-handed person.
It was Hotch’s.
Your heart skipped a beat as you rifled through the entire stack, realizing that all the paperwork had been completed. At the bottom of the pile, nestled beneath the last file, was a small note. You picked it up, already smiling as you recognized Hotch’s handwriting.
“Your philosophy degree helped me. Let my prosecutor years be helpful to you.”
You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over you. He hadn’t just helped you out, he’d done it in a way that perfectly mirrored your new dynamic, a balance of give and take that was starting to feel natural.
You glanced up across your desk, Hotch was of course, engrossed in yet another case file, but you could tell by the way his shoulders were set that he knew exactly what he’d done and was just waiting for you to notice. You grabbed the note, determined to thank him but also to give him a hard time for beating you to the punch once again.
“Hey,” you said. Hotch looked up, and for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. You held up the note, shaking it lightly. “So, when did you decide to moonlight as my personal assistant?”
Hotch leaned back in his chair, his expression carefully neutral, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You looked like you had enough on your plate after yesterday,” he said simply. “Figured I could put my old skills to use.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hotch, this would’ve taken hours. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
“I know,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. “But after all the philosophical guidance you gave me yesterday, I thought I’d return the favor. Call it a mutual exchange of expertise.”
You smiled, feeling warmth spread through you. “Well, thank you. Seriously. This is way above and beyond.”
Hotch nodded, but there was a playful edge to his voice when he spoke next. “Hopefully now you don’t hate lawyers as much.”
“Touché,” you said, grinning. “I guess you’ve proven that some lawyers can be... tolerable.”
Hotch gave a mock look of offense. “Tolerable? I’ll take it.” He paused, then added more seriously, “It’s not about winning, you know. At least, not in this line of work. It’s about finding the truth, even if it means doing the boring parts.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that” you admitted, still holding the note between your fingers. “Thanks for reminding me.”
You looked over the stack of completed reports, still impressed by how thorough Hotch had been. “Some of this paperwork was from cases I wrapped up a week ago. How did you know all the details? Did you just magically know what to write?”
Hotch leaned back in his chair, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “What, you think you’re the only one entitled to snoop around your coworkers’ files?!”
You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “So you’ve been snooping on me? I thought that was my job.”
Hotch’s smirk widened, and he shrugged casually. “I learned from the best. You think I haven’t noticed you trying to catch a glimpse of my cases all this time?”
You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up. “I guess that makes us even.”
“Not quite,” he quipped, his tone teasing but his expression still composed. “I’m just better at not getting caught.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning against the edge of his desk. “Guess I’ll have to up my game then.”
Hotch chuckled, a rare and genuine sound that caught you by surprise. “Good luck with that. But seriously, I figured I’d save you some time. I know how much you the paperwork side of this job isn’t the most entertaining one.”
You nodded, appreciating the gesture more than you could express. “Well, I have to admit, you did a pretty good job... for a snooper.”
“Better than tolerable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused by your earlier choice of words.
“Don’t push it,” you shot back with a grin. “But I’ll give you this: you’re pretty good at reading between the lines, even when it’s not a case file.”
Hotch nodded, his expression softening. “It’s all part of the job. And hey, if you ever need help with the paperwork again, just let me know. I don’t mind putting those old lawyer skills to use, once in a while.”
“Deal,” you said, pushing off his desk and heading back to your own. “But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with this kind of espionage forever.”
Hotch’s eyes sparkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
He was already back to work, his usual intensity in place, but he looked up just long enough to catch your eye and give you a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
You nodded back, smiling. “Jokes apart, thank you, Hotch, really.”
“You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice softer. “And if you ever feel like helping me out with another case like yesterday’s, just let me know.”
You gave him a playful salute. “Deal. But don’t think I won’t call you out when I catch you snooping through my files next time.”
Hotch’s eyes twinkled with restrained laughter. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
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Meanwhile Gideon leaned against the doorframe of Rossi’s office, watching his old friend sift through a case file with the kind of focused intensity that had made him a legend in the Bureau. But today, Gideon wasn’t there to discuss a case. He had noticed something recently, an unexpected but welcome development among the team, one that involved you and Hotch.
“Got a minute, Dave?” Gideon asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Rossi looked up, raising an eyebrow at the unusually cheerful tone. “For you, always. What’s going on?”
Gideon stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He glanced briefly through the blinds, catching sight of you and Hotch at your desks, deep in your usual quiet exchanges. “I’ve been watching Y/N and Hotch,” he began, leaning casually against the desk. “I have to say, I’m impressed. She’s only been here a few weeks, but they’ve already got something… special going on.”
Rossi smirked, setting his file down. “You mean the way she’s got him smiling at eight in the morning? Yeah, I’ve noticed. It’s like watching a miracle unfold.”
Gideon chuckled quietly. “I knew she was something special when I first saw her at the academy, but I didn’t expect her to click with Hotch so fast. They’re both pretty guarded, but when they’re working together... it’s like they’re speaking their own language.”
Rossi nodded thoughtfully, following Gideon’s gaze through the blinds. “They’re a good match. She challenges him in ways the rest of us don’t, and he’s bringing out something in her, too. You know, you were right to pair them up on that first case. You planned this, didn’t you?”
Gideon shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I had a feeling. Hotch needed someone who could challenge his perspective, shake up his routine a little. And she… well, I knew she’d benefit from his discipline, his way of grounding things when they get too abstract. Plus, I figured if they didn’t kill each other, they’d probably make a great team.”
Rossi leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing grin. “I guess we both had our little plans, didn’t we? You remember that guy who used to sit at the desk in front of Hotch?”
Gideon raised an eyebrow, surprised by the turn of the conversation. “The one who suddenly had that one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to lead an undercover operation? That was you?”
Rossi’s grin widened. “Oh, yeah. He was a really good agent, an excellent one actually, but he was never really a fit for teamwork. I saw an opening and might’ve... nudged him in that direction. You kept going on about Y/N back then, about how her expertise in philosophy would be an asset to the BAU. You even gave me this whole rundown of her personality: sharp, quick-witted, not afraid to push back. I knew right then she’d be perfect for Hotch.”
Gideon laughed, shaking his head. “You sneaky son of a... You were setting this up long before she even started.”
Rossi nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “You convinced me she’d bring something new, but I could see it wasn’t just about adding a fresh perspective. I saw the potential for something more, a partnership that would push both of them. So yeah, I cleared the way a little. Let’s just say the seating arrangements weren’t accidental.”
Gideon pointed a finger at Rossi, his face alight with amusement. “And you call me sly? You practically orchestrated the whole thing.”
Rossi chuckled. “I just gave them the stage. The rest? That’s all them.”
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Meanwhile, outside Rossi’s office, you spotted the two veteran profilers deep in conversation. You couldn’t help but smirk, seeing the perfect chance to tease Hotch about his painfully awkward first attempt to break the ice with you during your first field case together. An interaction so miserable that neither of you ever brought it up again, especially the bizarre conspiracy theory he tried to use as common ground. But you just couldn’t resist bringing back your old inside joke: the running gag that Rossi and Gideon were secretly an item.
You turned to Hotch, who was diligently working on another file, and without saying a word, you nodded your head in the direction of Rossi’s office. He glanced up, following your line of sight, and immediately caught on. With a slight raise of his eyebrow and a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned back in his chair, pretending to stretch but really angling himself to get a better view through the blinds.
“Can’t believe they’re still trying to keep it under wraps,” you whispered, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “It’s like they think we’re not onto them.”
Hotch chuckled softly, surprised that you were bringing up that old joke again. He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “Clearly discussing anniversary plans. I bet Rossi forgot to book the romantic getaway Gideon’s been hinting at for weeks.”
You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, nodding along. “You’d think after all these years, Rossi would know better. Gideon’s a stickler for anniversaries.”
Hotch’s expression was one of pure mischief. “I swear, if Rossi starts another argument about their anniversary dinner being interrupted by Bureau business, I’m not sure even Gideon can save them this time.”
You shook your head, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “Maybe that’s why Gideon looks so serious. He’s probably rethinking the whole relationship. Can’t be easy dealing with a partner who’s constantly prioritizing work.”
Hotch’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he added, “Gideon’s probably thinking about counseling, he’d better hope Rossi can handle it. You know how he gets about any ‘psychological mumbo jumbo.’”
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Inside Rossi’s office, Gideon continued, unaware of the playful scrutiny from outside. “So, we’re agreed then? We let them work together more often?”
Rossi nodded, smiling at the thought. “Definitely. They’ll keep each other sharp. Besides, it’s fun watching Hotch get flustered.”
Gideon laughed softly. “It’s not just fun, it’s necessary. I think we’re seeing something good here, Dave. They’ve got the makings of a great partnership.”
Back outside, you and Hotch continued your banter as you watched Rossi and Gideon converse through the glass. You turned to Hotch with a mock serious look. “You know, at this point, I’m half expecting them to make a grand announcement at the next briefing.”
Hotch nodded sagely, playing along. “It’ll be the talk of the office. I’m just waiting for the inevitable joint vacation request.”
You both laughed quietly, and for a moment, it was just you two, lost in the absurdity of your ongoing joke. It was moments like these that made the long hours and high stakes of the job more bearable, and as you glanced over at Hotch, you realized just how much you appreciated these little breaks from reality.
Hotch turned back to his work, but not before giving you one last, knowing smile. “You know, if this keeps up, we might have to start planning their wedding.”
You pretended to think about it, grinning. “Oh, I’ve already got the venue in mind. I’m thinking a quaint little spot in the woods, somewhere private, just the two of them.”
Hotch chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re too good at this.”
“And you’re just as bad,” you shot back playfully.
As you both returned to your respective tasks, the bond between you and Hotch felt stronger than ever.
Little did you know, the very pairing that had sparked your inside joke was also the one that had recognized your potential as a duo, quietly cheering you on.
56 notes · View notes
hollowwrites · 3 days
Text
Blindsided
Part 17
Ominis x MC
Summary - After learning new information about the next Trail, preparations need to be made and confessions must be told.
I just wanted to say now as I did in my last bit of spice that it isn't my thing normally so sorry if its hastily written and bad. Also, they're virgins, i wanted it to be a little awkward so sorry if you're not into that
Warnings - Spice (Oral, Mutual Masturbation(ish), unprotected P in V, mild pain from being virgins, mildly clincal talk about sex from research) Biting, Praise Kink, all characters aged up 18+
Word Count - 9389
~
“Ominis…you’re making it rather difficult to walk” she complained softly wriggling against the awkward way his elbow joined with hers.
They had decided the safest and best course of action would be to hole up in the Undercroft till the end of the day.
Both to avoid Sebastian and any of the Tri-Wizard organisers waiting to pounce.
The Room of Requirement may have worked, but Professor Weasley knew of its location. And if faculty knew…those who organised the trials would most definitely know.
So the Undercroft it was.
It worked out well. That was where Ominis had hidden that Tri-Wizard history book, and there were a few passages that he’d like Sebastian to read through…
…before Ominis’ inevitable apology for his outburst in the Library.
“Sorry…” Ominis smiled shyly as he released her from his grip momentarily, instead opting to snake his hand around her torso, settling at the small of her back “…but I’m not letting you out of my sight until this second trial is over.”
As they rounded the corner by the Undercroft a gaggle of younger students loitered about, awaiting the lesson about to begin above them. Evelyn took the opportunity to pull Ominis aside as they waited patiently for the corridors to clear, and they could safely descend to the depths of their hidden space.
She tugged softly on his arms till she was backed against the wall a gentle smile on her lips as she covered his eyes.
“I’m afraid that’s quite difficult for you” she teased delicately, earning a slight chuckle as he pulled her hands to his mouth.
“It is an expression…” he whispered against her finger tips before placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles “…one that I find quite apt. Because I can see you-”
His eyes shot towards her, locked with hers somewhat unknowingly. He could hear her breathing, talking. Just above that, hear the subtle sighs leaving her nose. So above that…must be her eyes. He focused in with an almost eerie accuracy, her features mapped in his mind, always.
He tapped her nose, then the triangle of moles across her cheek, drawing a line between each before bringing his hand to her jaw. His thumb settled over the apex of her chin, tilting it up as though staring into her very soul.
“-and I am not letting you out of my sight” he continued pointedly.
Evelyn gulped.
The vaguely intimate way in which he touched her had garnered a few looks from the students now filtering up the stairs. It didn’t help, of course, that she’d pulled him to the wall, her own fingers toying with the edges of his robes.
She could hear them whispering, and based on the slight narrowing of Ominis’ eyes; so could he.
“People are looking…” she whispered, the sound barely carrying on her breath as it washed over him.
“I am quite aware…” His voice came through the filter of his teeth, As was the norm when he was annoyed...or feeling protective. She wondered what they were saying, what Ominis had heard. But based on the flexing of his jaw she assumed perhaps it best not to ask.
They remained locked against the wall, his arm encasing her possessively until the students eventually filed into class. The Defence Against the Dark Arts tower was once again left empty and silent, save for the distant sound of the enchanted instruments playing tirelessly down the hall. This peaceful rift in time, between classes, had become the perfect time to skulk off together. Students busy learning. Professors busy teaching. Their only concern was Peeves and Black. Peeves they had managed to avoid his ire, luckily, and Black didn’t care enough to leave his office most days. Although that didn’t stop the taboo feeling that she was doing something wrong, welling in her stomach each time they opened that clockwork cabinet.
But she was with Ominis.
Safe.
~
Once again, Evelyn was struck by the obvious influences of the trio.
As normal, Evelyn’s corner remained untouched and perfectly polished. Every little detail placed perfectly for both ease, comfort and Ominis to avoid bumping into.
Sebastian left a small trail of destruction in his wake, the latest of which was a toppled over stack of barrels that had been left strewn across the room. He had been practising new spells, new curses, new everything, and this time the victim was the barrels…and a pile of quidditch equipment.
Had Sebastian brought Imelda down here?
And then there was Ominis.
He had adopted the space underneath the Triptych. The sad looking pile of blankets thrown underneath it was standard but since her last visit to the Undercroft, he had added much more. Made it more…homely.
With great insistence from Evelyn he had gained a mattress. A rather dilapidated looking one but it was a mattress nonetheless. It took a full afternoon of whinging but eventually they transfigured a couple of crates into the now comfortable bed. And though he would never admit it, Evelyn could tell he was grateful for her…nagging.
He’d stopped moaning about his aching back at least…
The mattress itself almost looked inviting with the multiple plush throws and blankets that adorned it. A scatter of pillows and cushions were tossed around with abandon but it was cosy. Lived in. Perhaps too lived in, considering he hadn’t slept in an actual bed in well over a month now.
He had also sheltered himself away, enclosing his space with bookcases, chalkboards, barrels. Anything he could get his wand on, he’d pulled towards him, building walls and dividers. She didn’t quite understand why until she stepped between them and into the makeshift room within a room.
It was immediately…warmer. Less drafty.
She smiled softly at these additions, though this home away from home just reminded her of why he was down here in the first place…
The Tournament.
And with the revelation of the second trial came yet another reason he couldn’t return to the boys dorms.
“Looks like you’ll be down here for a while longer…if the boys dorm is now not only covered in spider webs but damp too…” Evelyn remarked with a heavy tone of dismay.
As happy as she was that he was warmer, his nightmares were still…present. He hadn’t had one in a while but he could. And the idea of him being alone when they could occur was too much. It reminded her of her own twisted thoughts. Of him sleeping alone at Gaunt Manor.
No one to help him.
No one to be there for him.
No one to…love him.
“It’s not all bad…” he said, rather pleased with himself “…I haven’t heard Sebastian’s snoring in weeks”
Ominis’ cheeky grin almost made her forget herself. He happily manoeuvred his way into his den, wand blinking away as he cleaned up after himself. Shifted a blanket back onto a chair, a book onto a shelf, a teacup from the settee.
“Yes but…I don’t know. Something about you being down here alone-”
“Stay with me then” he said casually, continuing with his homely chores. His wand trailed over cover after cover till he found the Tri-Wizard History, throwing it atop the desk with a huff.
Sebastian would get an earful about this, no doubt about it.
“You mean sleep down here with you?” She asked incredulously.
Ominis didn’t miss a beat. He heard that sharp intake of breath, the tone in which she spoke. And if it was anyone else he’d be worried he’d said something wrong…
Well that’s a lie.
If it was anyone else he wouldn’t care to ask in the first place.
But this was Evelyn.
And they had already slept together multiple times. Shared a bed once.
So this development he simply found…amusing.
“Why not?” He chirped turning towards her and leaning back against the little chest of drawers his uniform stuck out of haphazardly. His prim and proper accent simply accentuated the teasing behind his words. It wasn’t really a question.
More of a dare…
And that alone set Evelyns skin ablaze.
Why not, Evelyn? It’s just sleeping…
Her own mind reasoned with her in a hushed whisper, almost like she thought Ominis could hear.
You’ve slept with him before. It’s fine nothing will happen.
…unless you want something to happen. Then you need only ask.
Remember he said it’s all he could think about?
Stop it.
You’re all he can think about.
“I…well…it’s…” she stammered and Ominis didn’t need sight to know she was blushing.
“You’re adorable when it comes to matters of the heart. Do you know that?” He smirked and crossed his arms.
“I am not…” she responded with a pout, crossing her arms in a similar fashion to him, only much more…sulkier.
“And so expressive. Thank Merlin! Sometimes I don’t even need my wand to know your mood” He threw his arms out, gesturing his aforementioned wand wildly in her direction. His smirk grew wider, lips parting to reveal the pearly white fangs at either side of his mouth.
It had been just over a week since she was last down here.
Since they had…been alone together.
But the air still felt thick and intimate. And as she noticed his lips parting she realised…it wasn’t the room making her feel this way. It wasn’t the rooms fault her breathing had become laboured and the air difficult to take in.
It was him.
His lithe frame that leaned taught. His forearms that flexed gently as he recrossed his arms. And that smirk. That arrogant and self important smirk. Why did that make her stomach knot?
Her sudden and, unbeknownst to him, lustful silence must have been just a second too long for his liking, his concern for upsetting her resurfacing. Ominis’ features softened and his frame relaxed, taking a confident step towards her to cup her face.
“Stay with me down here…” his soft tone presented the statement as a question this time “…I can make it warm, comfortable. I just need to know you’re safe”
And once again, her mind wondered to more sordid activities whilst he remained as sweet and as caring as he always had. A familiar guilt ate at her insides, shifting her eyes away from him and down towards the floor.
He was offering her a haven. And she thought only of how they could use it.
“I’d need clothes…pyjamas at the very least” she mumbled, blinking her thoughts quickly away as her eyes kept pulling towards the bed. Thoughts of what the sheets would feel like against her bare skin…what he would feel like.
“Not tonight, I don’t think” he whispered back as his boyish smile twisted quickly into a smirk. “Tonight…you can wear mine and first thing in the morning we can gather some necessities”
And once again he held himself in the most gentlemanly of ways, making her guilt even stronger. He pulled her closer, planting a chaste kiss against her forehead and beamed down at her, a genuine smile pulled across his hollow cheeks.
“You say this like it’s a permanent change”
“Mmm…” he hummed as his lips brushed down her temple and across her cheekbones “…I could keep you…”
They weren’t so much kisses as they were…caresses. His lips mirrored that which his finger drew out on the opposite side of her face and she shuddered.
He’s just touching me and I can’t help myself.
Then he laughed softly, the air expelled from him brushing the small hairs at her ear away.
“I don’t know how you put up with my…possessiveness” he chuckled breathily again, his fingers finally finishing their journey at her jaw, cupping her cheek within his palm.
“I’ve had practise…” she whispered sweetly “…what with how close we were last year. All that’s changed really is the occasional kiss”
Ominis huffed a small breath of laughter as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.
“I don’t really know where it came from…” he started quietly, like he was truly speaking his mind…freely…
“When Sebastian started down…that path…it triggered something within me I have not been able to satiate. I wanted to control everything. Every little aspect of his life -
“It’s why we clashed so often. Still do. I love him…like he was my own brother and I can’t stand idle as he suffers. Whether it’s to his own stupidity or any external force -
“Same with Anne. When she was cursed it felt a little like a part of me was cursed along with her. Because I love her. She treated me the same as Sebastian from the moment she met me -
“And you -
“I have never known anyone like you. You are a…beautiful contradiction, my love. Both the most deadly and caring person I have ever met. Kind and loving yet harsh and volatile. Sweet…and at times a little bit sour.
“And I love you…” he whispered softly, barely loud enough to hear. But down here…it seemed to echo around the room. Bounce around her mind.
“I’m in love with you. I’m not entirely sure when it happened. I just wanted you around in the beginning. All the time. But…at some point last year that want became a need. And I couldn’t imagine my life without you”
Words failed her as she looked up into the far away gaze of his glassy irises. He had a way with words. Always had. Each one like the note of delicate symphony. And it was music to her ears.
She had to blink away the tears that threatened to spill from her lashes, lest he think he had upset her. And she couldn’t bare to break his heart…even if it was just for a moment.
“I-“
“You don’t need to say it back. I just…wanted you t-“
“I love you too!” she beamed, the words falling fast as though she’d been holding them back. And in many ways, she had…
“I don’t know when either. Sometimes it feels like I always have. But at the very least… from the moment you offered me help in that window…I have been yours. And I love-“
She didn’t get to say it a second time…
His lips captured hers immediately. If she had been paying attention instead of concentrating on the stream of words that tumbled from her, she would’ve noticed the way his fingers untangled themselves from the hairs at the nape of her neck, and glided closer to her lips. As she spoke, his fingers honed in, so he could encapsulate her lips with pinpoint accuracy.
Strange how one little phrase can change everything.
Change the way someone can hold you or kiss you.
He had embraced her many times in many different ways. As a friend. A protector. With affection and with anguish. Yet there was something about this embrace that reminded her of the first time they kissed. Desperate, pleading and unyielding. Like a dam had burst.
But she could feel his love. Feel it pouring into her like warm waves lapping against a shore.
It was passion in every meaning of the word.
Needy, wanting but warm and reciprocated.
Ominis’ lips moved slowly at first, compensating for the speed in which his mouth collided with hers.
And though it was slow and gentle, he didn’t break. The only time permitted for air was as he tilted her head back and his position shifted slightly, towering over her.
He shrugged his arms past hers, manoeuvring his hands to her lower back. As he held her tightly, he pressed her into him more, forcing the air to come gasping from her lungs.
With her hands now relegated from their original position, she was forced to be bold.
Not that she was against being bold. Not with him.
She wound her fingers around his neck, holding him loosely against her. A gentle reminder, should he pull away, that he would not be going far.
But he took that as more of an invitation.
As he stepped forward, shuffling along the floor with desperation to get closer, he brought her almost completely off her feet, her gasps filling his mouth. His fingers tightened around her waist as he supported her, trailing down the fabric of her shirt till he felt the divot of her hipbone beneath the material. The trembling of his fingers betrayed him, a clear sign accompanied with his busy lips, that he had an insatiable hunger for her.
Without knowing, they had stumbled across the room and against the mattress on the floor, tumbling to the bed over a stray blanket. He held her tight to his body as his knee hit the mattress, cradling her against him and protecting her from the fall. A breathy laugh left them both, neither wasting another second as their lips crashed eagerly against each other again.
At first he gently tested the waters. His tongue lapping at her pillowy bottom lip like a snakes might, a thought that made Evelyn giggle, though the noise was lost amidst his greedy lips and gentle tongue.
Not even that was enough.
Roaming hands covered the landscape of her torso, kneading and poking, gripping and digging into her flesh. His hand ran up her side, fingers dancing over her ribs like the keys of a piano, slowly but surely untucking her shirt from her waistband. The cold of the Undercrofts stagnant air nipped at her skin and as his hands quickly replaced the fabric he had discarded, the backs of his fingers were greeted with the familiar braille of her goosebump pocked skin.
The corner of his lip curled, trying with all his might not to smirk as she murmured softly beneath him. But it was too late.
He didn’t want to seem cocky, but he couldn’t stop the twitch peeling at his lips. He merely observed the effect he had on her and found irrefutable evidence of her longing, he can’t be faulted in finding pleasure in her…well…pleasure. Can he?
She could feel his satisfaction, his lips becoming thin and his kisses becoming sharper as he grinned. All teeth and sharp canines.
There was no way he was getting all his own way this time.
Obviously she enjoyed their last…dalliance. It had haunted her mind many times over the last few days, that same knot he had undone skillfully, tying itself back up each time she thought about it. And with each time the knot grew tighter. And larger. And more complex. Till not even her own fingers could help her anymore.
She wanted him.
So when he felt the dimples of her skin, a smug smile threatening to spill from his lips, her own hands palmed against his chest, feeling the ever quickening beat of his heart under his shirt. She revelled in the fact his smirk faltered, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth as her finger hooked around the knot of his tie, slipping easily between the silken material and pulling it apart. Pulling him down further along with it, the material quickly ripped from his neck.
Merlin…
There was something about his neck that got to her.
The clenching of his jaw when he absentmindedly ground his teeth.
The flexing of the tendons as he turned his head.
The bob of his throat when he swallowed.
Even the constellation of moles that waterfalled down his neck. Everything pointed, guided, coerced her further down. Led her eyes down to the chest her hand currently pressed against.
And when she pulled the tie from his lapels and the crisp white folds of his shirt fell open, he gulped, pulling away just a fraction.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised she was so forward. She was honest. Unabashedly so. At times it bordered on blunt. After all, it was her who first took his arm in Hogsmeade. Her who asked him sleep next to her in the Common Room. Her who first kissed his cheek just a few weeks ago.
Now her fingers undid button after button, exposing his skin to the cool air of the Undercroft.
Though he was surprised at her forward action, undressing him slowly, it wasn’t completely unwelcome. But it didn’t stop a note of panic from rising in his throat like bile.
He hadn’t seen himself naked, and yet all signs seemed to be leading to her seeing him first.
She had seen him once in the dark of her home. Deep under the cover of night and the guise of friendship stopping any lewd thoughts from completely taking over.
He remembered how she gently explored the scarred landscape of his torso. How she gasped in horror at the initial sight, yet embraced him moments later with no care to how he looked.
He could feel her tiny fingers trembling, her breath catching and the tiny sounds of her teeth nibbling at her lip.
She was having this reaction to him.
Sebastian often told him scars feel worse than they look and that he had nothing to fear.
And it was only now he truly believed it.
Emboldened by her want for him and the tiny hesitation her fumbling fingers demonstrated, Ominis reached down and looped his arm under her back, pulling her up and throwing her against the pillows with a barely suppressed growl from deep within his throat.
The combined gasp squeal that left her only encouraged his behaviour.
His fingers dug into her side, keeping his arm around her, her back arched, pressing flush to his almost completely exposed chest.
He didn’t want her to move. Didn’t want her going anywhere. When he said he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, he meant it. If that meant keeping her down here like this, so be it. Especially if she kept pressing into him the way she was, lips urgent and desperate as though if they stopped they could never be this way again. Every movement and murmur to be relished and remembered.
He leant in further, his knee nudging her legs apart and sliding up her thigh. It settled between her legs, her body lowering subconsciously, seemingly searching for any friction she could find.
Ominis felt the way her hips bucked against his thigh, tiny murmurs filling his mouth as his teeth bit softly into her lip.
He tried to remain a gentlemen, he honestly and truly did. But her noises, and soft skin, and hot, warm breath, and-
It was all too much.
He could feel his jaw working as he got progressively more and more wound up, taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to rip at her clothes.
He knew what lay just beneath the surface, could only imagine what her breast felt like as he listened to her breath, heavy and panting. All he had to do was reach out-
Suddenly, He pulled back with a sharp intake of air, his eyes holding a dangerous concoction of love, true love, and an untamed want.
Whether it was the new position they found themselves in or something else…but he could feel himself about to snap.
“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t push so hard. You’ve already given me so much”
The soft indents of flesh along her side quickly rushed with blood as his fingers relinquished the hold on her waist.
“No please…take. Take what you want…take me” Evelyn practically pleaded, immediately chiding herself for allowing someone to have this effect on her.
“Be…” he inhaled again, through his nose to clear his head, controlled and calculated “…Be very careful how you word things to me”
“I know what I’m saying. And I mean it. Take me”
Her own voice sounded foreign to her.
And yet didn’t to Ominis.
He recognised the breathy, airy sound of her arousal. The way each inhale took just a second too long as it caught in her throat. The way her breath was hot against his lips. And there was a husk to it he knew only he had heard.
He’d heard it when she woke in a morning, mind caught between slumber and reality. Vulnerable and soft.
He’d heard it when he kissed her, the first word afterwards always carrying the barest hint of a croak.
And he’d heard it when his fingers roamed between her legs. Every murmur, every moan that very same ache to her voice.
It was a privilege to know her this intimately. To be the only one to ever know her this intimately.
And that he was so close to more. More of her.
All of her.
An act he should be terrified of…but wasn’t.
If Ominis was being honest, and rather pessimistic with himself, he never expected to get this far. With anyone.
From his early teenage years he assumed he’d never kiss anyone. Never feel the touch of someone’s skin and it mean anything more than an accidental stumble or at best a gesture of friendship.
And then he met her.
Evelyn and her perfectly smooth voice and fingers that sought him out. No accident needed.
“Are you sure?” He asked as he pulled away from her, propping himself up with one arm, the other holding her waist as though holding something precious and delicate. The heat had melted from his voice, leaving only concern and worry behind. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted her, that couldn’t be further from the truth. He wanted her to be certain.
“I’m…sure…”
Suddenly it felt real…
Panic. Clear panic bubbled in her throat…there was still doubt.
Not with him. He would be perfect, as always…
But since Ominis and Evelyn had gotten closer, she had made the mistake of researching. And her discoveries were…less than appealing.
Every muggle novel or article described her experience as a violation. An abomination of her virtue and destruction of her self worth. The words ‘whore’ and ‘harlot’ jumped from the pages. Combined with what she had heard people say of her own mother as a child…a single mother out of wedlock…it simply didn’t seem worth it.
And the Wizarding World wasn’t too much better.
Yes, Sex was much less frowned upon amongst her fellow witches and wizards. But the almost clinical way that it was described left her feeling no better.
‘A sharp shooting pain can be felt during a woman’s first time as the hyman tears making it an uncomfortable and sometimes painful experience’
That sentence alone bounced around her head.
Pain. Whore. Tear. Violation.
No where, except the fantasies of romance writers, described the ordeal as anything positive. Joyous. Fun.
They were supposed to make love…yet no where even uttered the word.
“…I’m just...” she started, voice shaking just as much as the fingers she clung to him with “…I’m scared…”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t…” Ominis chuckled softly, cupping her cheek and running his thumb across the soft expanse. “I am too in truth…We can take things slowly. And we can stop at any moment. You need only say…”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s going to hurt…” she stated, matter of factly
“I…” he swallowed thickly, but continuing on with a tenderness to his voice “…have heard that can be the case…I’ll be as gentle as you need me to be…but you may be right. It could hurt…”
Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, taking a calming breath in and blowing back through her lips. The cool air fanned over Ominis, a concerned albeit soft smile tugging at his lips.
“I want it to be you…” she whispered, hastily looking at the gap between them and tugging her skirt up. He quickly snapped up her hand, stilling her movements.
“It doesn’t have to be now or-”
“No let’s just…get it over with” she muttered wriggling in his firm but gentle grasp
“Evelyn…” he held her wrist loosely, making sure not to hurt her, eyes hard and face stoic “…I mean it. It doesn’t have to be now. Or ever if you don’t want to. I love you…not your body.”
She blinked.
No where had she read about this.
“Do you mean that?”
“Stupid question really…” Ominis scoffed, his hand releasing her wrist and trailing up her arm. His hand journeyed slowly up to the side of her neck, slowly tracing across her moles on her cheek pointedly before placing his palm against her neck. “…considering I hadn’t touched you properly for the first two years of us knowing each other and yet still fell in love with you”
His fingers travelled softly across her neck, feeling her heart hammering against the soft flesh below her jaw.
“Well…yes but-“
“But nothing, Evelyn” he interrupted “What you say goes. You want to continue? I will oblige. You want me to be forever at your side and never touch you again? I will oblige”
He laughed through his nose, hanging his head a little lower as though telling her a secret “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss your lips…” he murmured as his thumb diverted to run along her lip “…but I would do anything to make you happy”
Evelyn once again found herself at a loss for words though she knew the course she wanted to take.
With her words failing her, she did the only thing she could think of, leaning up to place a soft gentle kiss against his lips.
“Just…take it slow” she whispered against him, falling back against the pillow as a gentle rumble left his throat.
“With pleasure” Ominis murmured before pulling himself away from her.
She almost whined, protesting against his sudden absence, when his eyes darkened.
The way he knelt above her, as though he could see the fast rise and fall of her chest sent shivers down her spine. Shivers she was convinced he could feel, because his hands chased them.
They traced, slowly and methodically, down from her cheek to her waist. They stopped at every juncture that caused her breath to hitch.
The sensitive spot below her jaw that he brushed against, pulling the emerald green ribbon from her lapels.
Her stomach as he skillfully and methodically unbuttoned her shirt.
Her collarbone that his nails grazed, peeling her blouse back.
He almost entirely ignored her breasts, though they heaved and settled as he removed her clothing. It almost made her…needy, wanting to demand he touch her and pull those soft whines from her like he did before.
She soon realised why he avoided that area…
He had other plans.
Like a distraction, his fingers played over the scar along her side, tracing the swirling gnarled skin and finding beauty in it. Beauty in the marks that littered his own body. Beauty in her soft skin and enduring nature.
Then he suddenly yearned to taste that soft skin, head dipping quickly to encapsulate her soft peak in his mouth.
She gasped, harsh and loud, back arching and eyes going wide as her body grew warmer, the familiar buzz tingling its way between her legs..
Ominis simply chuckled, grinning whilst his mouth was full, his warmth breath fanning across her chest. As he grinned, his teeth scrapped across her small mounds, another harsh gasp making her push into his mouth further. Obviously, he did not complain, nipping at the tiny bud at the peak of her breast, tugging it between his teeth.
His fingers didn’t cease in their journey either. After exploring their shared scar, his nimble digits fell like rainfall to her hips and thighs.
Unknowingly, or more likely knowing exactly what he was doing, his sightless eyes looked up at her, his grin wide, her flesh tucked between his teeth. He tugged again gently, earning himself another sinful gasp before chuckling darkly, releasing her breast from his torment and continuing down…
Down…
Down his kisses trailed. Along the ever quickening rise and fall of her stomach, over the boney divots of her hip bones.
He rose on his knees just enough to tug her skirt down and off her legs, feeling the tremble of her thighs as he did.
Thats when he listened. Heard her soft shaking breath. Felt the quake in her body. Heard the way her hands slid over her skin, covering anywhere exposed.
He discarded her skirt with a flourished wrist and turned his attention back to her fully. He felt out her wrist and pulled it away from her chest, holding it loosely away from her.
“Darling…” he whispered, his tone full of accidental amusement “…I’m blind”
“Well yes but…” Evelyn choked out a nervous laugh, squirming beneath his non existent gaze “…instinct I suppose”
Ominis sighed, the jovial tone now lost.
Using her wrist and hooking underneath her knee, he lifted her with ease, pushing her just a little bit more up the bed. Her back now propped against his pillows, leaving her no choice but to look down at her almost completely nude form.
“You have nothing to worry about” he said softly, sitting up between her legs, his fingers idly tracing over her thighs, carefully and slowly dipping below the band of her underwear.
“You are beautiful” he stated with no room for arguments.
He deliberately took his time removing her underclothes. If at any point she wished to stop him, his movements would cease and her virtue remain intact.
But she didn’t.
She simply clung to the sheets below her, staring up at the man above her treating her like fine China.
Once again as her underwear came away, he felt the shake of her leg. Her nerves were understandable but they simply would not do.
Before he allowed her leg to drop down, raised high as he removed that last shred of clothing, he gripped her calf with barely contained want and brought it up to his lips. He pressed along her smooth skin, peppering along her leg till he reached her knee.
“You’re so soft. So warm” he murmured against her skin lowering himself to reach her thighs. He positioned her leg over his shoulder, almost burying his face in the pillowy flesh of her thigh.
“You have no reason to hide…from anyone” he whispered inching closer and closer to the apex of her thighs.
It was only when he placed a kiss against a particularly sensitive patch of her skin that she shook herself from her haze.
Her hand flew forward, grabbing him by the hair and pushing him away.
“What are you doing?” She panted, her voice filled with fear.
She didn’t anticipate that doing that would elicit such a reaction from him.
With her hand still knotted in his hair, his neck craned backwards and his milky eyes seemingly foggier than normal, he looked…sinful. Lips parted and wet from his constant kisses. Jaw flexing in anger from being ripped from his conquest. A dark smile revealing sharp teeth as he chuckled.
“I was enjoying you” he groaned, fingers digging into her hips as he held back “I can stop…but this will be so much easier if you’re ready”
“I am ready” she argued, gulping back the idea of his face buried…there.
Ominis rolled his eyes and couldn’t stop the sarcastic chuckle that left him.
“Please…” he scoffed indignantly, fingers relinquished their grip on her hip to slide under and trace her folds.
Sometimes his memory annoyed him. How he could recall, in detail, every minor inflection someone had in their voice in an argument. How he could still remember the texture of Bubotuber Puss against his skin after yet another catastrophic potions class.
But right now…his memory served him well.
Every divot and fold of her core ran through his mind. He recalled how her fingers pleasured herself and exactly how he could replicate it. The way he had memorised her, gave him a pinpoint accuracy for her desire and the slickness that awaited him.
“You need to-“ his breath caught and his eyes widened when his fingers dipped between.
As before, her need was evident.
He couldn’t help but gulp, his own arousal straining against the confounds of his trousers at this…revelation.
Oh she was indeed ready.
But this little discovery only made him more eager to have her…to taste her.
“Just trust me” he tried to whisper but instead his voice came out as a rough growl. He hoped it didn’t scare her, cursing himself for his thinly veiled want.
“It’s just…” her fingers tightened in his hair and he let out a sharp hiss, his hips flexing against the mattress and sending a shiver up his spine “…it seems so…wrong”
“Is it so wrong to want you to come apart?” He asked as softly as he could manage. With his gentle tone her fingers relaxed, still tangled in his pale locks but no longer holding him back like a rabid dog.
“No but-“
“And is it so wrong for it to be me who does that?” He whispered, slowly lowering himself giving her all the time in the world to stop him.
“No…” her voice broke
“Then do not deny me, love”
He allowed a silent beat to pass between them before he lowered further.
…Then his tongue replaced wherever his fingers had been.
Evelyn couldn’t deny that the feeling was…beyond her comprehension. She gasped loudly and rolled her head back against the pillow, his tongue working to relax every muscle in her body, as though each and every one of her nerves were being stimulated. She felt a heat course through her body.
Strange how an act can be so arousing, so utterly tempting that it winds the spring in your core tighter…and yet also work to immediately satiate that need.
As she gasped and groaned, Ominis did the same, her noises fuelling every flick of his tongue. And he found that each time he hummed or murmured his approval, she shivered and pressed herself down further onto his waiting tongue.
Unknowingly, His nose bumped against that bumble of nerves each time she bucked and moaned beneath him.
And soon it became more of a battle than a slow dance.
His hand strained against her hips, trying and failing to suppress her eager mewling. Until eventually he had enough, looping his arm over her leg, forcing it down as his hand crept up her torso. He gently coaxed her back down, flat against the mattress, feeling each moan vibrate from her chest.
He almost growled, though he contained his grimace against the sensitive area he now resided.
He lapped greedily, like a man starved. And though he was obviously blind, Evelyn noticed as she looked down his eyes were squeezed shut, delighting in every moan he pulled from her.
His tongue, flat and wide, travelled up her form. From her core to the sensitive nub atop, he replaced any wetness with his own.
“You are…” he interrupted himself, another feverish lap up her folds, his nose buried deep against that little spot again “…you taste…”
He flexed every muscle against her, a desperate attempt to stop himself crashing into her like a tidal wave. To trap her beneath him and dine upon her for hours.
Because he was not lying.
His condition made him sensitive to everything else around him. And her warm scent and sweet taste were a perfect addition to her already beautiful symphony of moans and sensations.
“…perfect…” he groaned, his tongue voraciously seeking any point that made her tremble.
He was almost angry for a moment that he could have been potentially deprived of this. Just another layer of her person that he knew and no one else did.
Another facet being just how…needy she was.
He knew this from her guiding him against her before but now…
As he spoke, she pushed softly on his head coaxing him back down even from his brief reprieve…
“Don’t…stop…” she panted, her back desperately trying to arch off the bed yet being held firm by his long arm snaking up to her chest.
And he obliged, diving eagerly back to lap, suckle and nip at her with an increased passion and intensity.
His focus became unwavering against her clit. His attention undivided as he felt her hand grip at his hair as though keeping him in his place. His tongue flicking over and over again groaning from the cacophony of sensations he could feel from her. And the delicious vibration of his tongue made her almost weep.
The ache in her stomach fell lower and lower, her mind reeling that she had almost stopped this.
And now he emphatically dined upon her, keeping her teetering on the edge. Torture in its most blissful form.
“Ah-“ Evelyn whispered before a sharp whimper cut through the otherwise silent room.
Because in her reverie, she hadn’t noticed his other hand move from her hip…and press against her entrance. His fingers curled inside her, filling his ears with such pretty little noises.
A breath caught moan seized in her throat, the only oxygen permitted being sharp little inhales as his finger left and married with another.
Her vision muddied as she bit into her lip, trying and failing to ease her need for him. Everything longed for him. Her stomach ached for more. Not more fingers, not more of the same. Him.
But she was so close.
And not a few seconds later, his fingers beckoning her and his lips locked over her, tongue fluttering…she sank. Sank into the sheets, fingers sinking into his hair, knees buried in his side.
With a loud whimper, nullified through her teeth, she found her release. The tension and fear surrounding the whole ordeal seemed meaningless now as she lay swimming in a hazy soft buzz.
Ominis simply smiled, a purr of satisfaction leaving him as he removed himself from between her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from her. Feel her slick against his nose, lips and fingers. Feel the tremble of her thighs as he situated himself between them again, pulling and spreading her apart.
“We can stop at that…” he murmured, his voice a much lower register than normal, leaning down to kiss along her neck.
It wasn’t completely a lie.
He would happily leave their evening at this, leave her to recover and snuggle into his side. Listen to her soft breathing as they fell asleep.
But even Evelyn, as naive about these affairs as she was, knew he wanted more.
If it weren’t for the brief glimpse of his darkened eyes, it was the hard and throbbing length pressed against her lower stomach as he leant down.
She tried to silence the gasp of shock as it pressed against her but failed. The noise itself sending him into overdrive and taking every shred of his willpower to resist the urge to rut against her.
“No…” she panted “…I want all of you”
Suddenly, she felt as though there were a time limit. As though every second not touching him was wasted time. Her hands sought him out, pushing the folds of his shirt off his shoulders whilst her other hand fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. And once again he encapsulated her wrists in his long fingers.
“Let me take care of you. I just need you to…” he bit his tongue, not really knowing how to phrase such a thing “…are you sure?”
Evelyn nodded feverishly, the haze of her climax still clouding her mind
“Certain…”
With her confirmation, he once again sat up on his knees, tugging at his trousers and underwear and releasing his throbbing member.
It was though the act of seeing him fully for the first time wiped clear the warm fuzzy feeling of her release.
And she gulped.
Because though she hadn’t seen a man naked before, she’d seen diagrams and pictures in books…that looked...large
Its leaking tip glistened in the low light of the Undercroft and the pale pink of it seemed so much darker against his alabaster skin. Almost angry.
“Is…something wrong?” He muttered, gripping the waistband of his trousers, brows furrowing.
“Fine!” She blurted out hoping her lack of breathing hadn’t given him a complex.
She had forgotten for a while…this was his first too.
“It’s just…” she murmured, not being able to take her eyes of it as it swung low. Without thinking, she reached forward, curious to see its comparison to her own fingers.
The moment her finger brushed against the wet tip, it twitched violently and Ominis hissed sharply through his teeth.
“I’m sorry. Did that hurt? Did I…I just wanted to see…” she stammered, pulling her hands back against her chest, retreating away from it as though looking at it could harm him.
“No just…a little warning next time” Ominis said softly, that same nervous cadence to his voice from earlier. The same nervous energy she had displayed not minutes ago…
“Can I-” Evelyn murmured, her hands reaching forward again.
“Yes…” he breathed, sucking in a breath sharply and keeping it in his throat.
This time when she touched him, he didn’t flinch. She marvelled at how soft it was. She didn’t know what to expect when it had been described as ‘hard’ in so many books. She almost expected it to be like stone. Or like tree bark. But it was smooth like silk.
Until she squeezed and realised just why it was described that way. Not only was it much bigger than her fingers but it somehow seemed harder than bone.
A thrill shot up her spine as she watched him.
His eyes fluttered closed as her hand closed around his girth.
His cheeks tinged pink, flushed and flustered unlike she’d ever seen him before.
Lips pursed and wet from her, his teeth biting into himself as she had.
Head rolling back and throat bobbing as she jumped softly away at him, almost out of instinct.
Was he feeling how she felt?
There was no way he wanted her like she wanted him? Yet it seemed that way. She gazed upon a perfect mirror image of herself in the throes of passion.
And she was…elated.
A sick tingle worked its way up her spine as she wondered, truly, how similar their attraction was.
What noises could she pull from him?
She quickly found out as her pace increased around his length and a deep groan left his chest.
Evelyn paused.
She did that…
An almost predatory grin split her face whilst her hand continued before being halted by the bucking of his hips and a desperate, shameful whimper tumbled from his lips.
“E-Evelyn…please” Ominis begged, his stomach clenching almost doubling over as he pulled himself from her grasp.
“Am I hurting you?” She asked, almost embarrassed. She thought she was doing well…for a complete novice.
“No you’re…” he shuddered and bought himself back down to her level, nuzzling into her neck “…you’re perfect. Perhaps too perfect” he laughed against her neck, teething at the skin along her collarbone.
Though the intimacy had taken several steps back, it somehow felt more heated.
Not a moment before she held him gently between her hands, the evidence of her own arousal glistening on his flushed face…
…now he just gently nibbled on her neck.
But something about that alone made her arch and moan into him, earning those same noises from Ominis.
His hips flexed and she felt the twitching and, somehow, harder length rub against her lower stomach. Her soft yet lustful moans were sending his body into overdrive. It was becalming an increasingly difficult task to stop himself losing it and rutting against her as hard as he could. Out of pure primal instinct, she lifted her legs and knotted them around his waist, his member falling to brush softly against her folds.
They both gasped, Ominis pulling back to gaze sightlessly down at her.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his brows furrowing, forehead crinkling with concern.
Evelyn struggled to hear him over her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears.
“Yes…” she breathed, tilting her hips down towards the twitching arousal at her core.
Ominis sighed, his warm breath fanning over her face. He rocked to the side slightly, leaning his weight on one arm, his other disappearing below. Evelyn watched until his hand was between them, following the cascading moles on his body, the flexing of his muscles and tendons underneath ivory skin. She followed the movements of him looming over her until she reached his eyes, staring off to her right somewhere…
…and they still carried that same concern. That same worry.
As though he could sense her curious eyes trying to read him like a book, he laughed nervously and bit his lip.
“You may need to…guide me” he murmured, voice heavy with something she couldn’t quite identify. Shame? Anxiety? Embarrassment?
He’s feeling the same as I am
As though that wasn’t clear from the shaking of his hands.
Evelyn bit the inside of her lip, suppressing the relieved smile that threatened to expose her. Her hands snaked up to cup his face, his eyes immediately fluttering closed at the comforting gesture.
“Of course…” she whispered before she felt the dull poke of his arousal at her core. Her breath caught on the lump in her throat, his tip swiping up between her wet folds.
Even that, and that alone, made a gruff grumble vibrated through Ominis. And again a sick thrill shot up her spine.
I haven’t even done anything and-
“There!” Evelyn squeaked, immediately humbled as he pulled himself back down to her core.
“Ready?” Ominis asked a final time, as her shallow breathes became faster. She nodded and he simply laughed, despite himself… “You need to talk, love. I don’t know what that rustling of hair means”
“Sorry…yes…I’m ready…” she breathed so quietly even his ears had to strain to hear.
“Okay” he pressed his lips to her forehead before pushing his hips forward.
It was like…the worst cramp she had ever experienced.
And it somehow travelled up her spine and down each limb.
She arched her back silently, almost to retreat away from the ache, only to push him further inside with a high pitched yelp.
And Ominis felt guilty immediately.
Because she was so warm. And so wet. And so welcoming. Even with her nails digging into the sides of his head.
It took all of his willpower to halt, cease his movements and feel more of her silken walls.
“Are you okay?” He croaked, all of his energy going into stopping himself from driving into her deeper. Torture in its finest form.
She didn’t respond.
But he could hear, actually hear each individual heartbeat that hammered against her ribs. And it was fast. Scarily…fast…
“Evelyn?” He said almost sternly, all traces of the previous restraint gone, replaced with immeasurable worry. His hand darted to the side of her face, trying to feel for any indication of her wellbeing.
“I’m fine…” she muttered cautiously, her back relaxing against the mattress.
The steadying breaths she inhaled through her nose and out through her mouth allowed her time for her body to adjust. And though the initial snap was sharp and painful, she could now feel herself moulding and conforming to him.
And he felt…almost good.
She opened her eyes, a few tears trickling down the side of her face and looked up at him.
And giggled.
And her walls clamped around him impossibly tighter.
So whilst she was giggling and relishing in the moment, Ominis struggled. Which only made her giggle more, his face contorting with pleasure as she did.
“T-that’s not fair” he panted, his sharp cheekbones turning a pretty pink.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered through barely suppressed laughter.
“You’re okay though, yes?” He asked with increased panic as the tears that leaked from her reached his hand.
“Right now…here in this moment, with you…I’m perfect” she reassured, her thumbs running across his cheeks.
Ominis froze, his features melting to a soft and gentle smile. A smile reserved only for her.
“You’re always perfect…” he murmured, lowering his body down to hers and nuzzling into her neck. His lips danced over her skin softly, earning himself a pleased little hum from her throat. Just the noise itself made his cock twitch inside her and that ‘pleased little hum’ morphed into a sinful whimper.
Which he revelled in…drank it all in, committed it all to memory.
Memorising every noise she made, every whimper and moan and delicious breath that he caused her to choke on.
Noting every touch of her skin and every point of contact. Her soft breasts heaving against his own hard chest. The bones of her pelvis that dug into his every time he pushed into her.
Her soft delicate hands that dropped from his face to his shoulders and dropped further as his pace quickened.
The scorching lines her nails left on his back with each slow, sensual thrust into her.
And he could feel his resolve breaking.
Feel himself drowning in her.
And quickly at that.
Which he expected. Sebastian had told him, he wouldn’t last long.
But now that he was in it, he yearned for more.
So his pace quickened further. His length plunged deeper. Hips slamming harder.
He wanted to feel more. Feel all of her. Couldn’t get enough of her. And with time working against him…he’d have to make the most of it.
Evelyn, was simply happy the pain hadn’t lasted long. And now she could fully experience him with none of the negatives.
And there were no negatives.
He seemed to fill her completely, in a way she didn’t know was possible. An image of his swollen member flashed across her eyelids and she was impressed she was managing to take it.
With every grind of his hips, she felt her core throb. It was a pleasant ache, like the soreness of your jaw after eating too many sweets. And she could feel herself coming undone.
“E-Eve…” Ominis panted, dampening the skin of her neck.
No…just a little longer
She could hear his groans turning softer and his hips stuttering.
And with presumably very little time to discuss it, she forced her hand in between them and quickly ran her fingers over her sensitive and throbbing nub.
The knot in her stomach loosened incredibly quickly, the combination of his girth and her quick little fingers filling her with an untold level of pleasure.
And unlike normally when she reached her climax she couldn’t feel herself clench and tighten.
But he did.
He felt her pulse and tremble around him. Felt her tighten and her back arch and her loud moan that seemed to vibrate through him. She seemed to pull him deeper, an uncontrollably and irregular contraction that consumed him.
And with a guttural rasp, he found his own release, his arm looping around her raised waist and squeezing her tighter.
Whereas, Evelyn did the opposite. Her arms fell limply back to mattress as she felt him empty inside her, the pleasant buzz of her climax once again filling her body.
Ominis clung to the feeling, to her, afraid that it may have all been a dream. It felt like a dream.
The woman he loved, beneath him, wanting him.
His mind spiralled, a clarity running through him and filling him with doubt.
And as usual, as though she were expert it Legilimancy, she felt his swing toward the negative and brought her hands around him. Her fingernails traced delicately down the heaving expanse of his back soothing his buzzing mind.
And he hummed, his body finally relaxing and almost drowning her under his weight.
Evelyn simply laughed, a refreshing and light noise that filled Ominis’ chest with warmth.
He could feel her body calming similar to his, though her heart still raced and her skin was still radiant.
“You’re so beautiful like this, all flushed skin and breathless” he mumbled into her neck, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he spoke, his voice a much lower register than normal.
He rolled up onto his elbow, his fingers unwrapping from her waist and travelling to her face.
He was greeted with the soft smile he associated with her. The face he kept stored for her at all times, only she had a glow about her he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
And she took the opportunity to finish the sentence that started all of this.
“I love you” she whispered, leaning into his palm.
“I love you too”
Masterlist
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tapakah0 · 3 months
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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months
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Vettonso complaining about each other not respecting schrondinger's track limits on the radio compilation + Seb's commentary that made me a bit feral
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Must include these sexy ass pics okay, it makes me feral how hard they race each other.
Also SO upset that we got this vid and there's also pictures(and presumably a vid out there somewhere) of Fernando, back then, ALSO debriefing this race. And yet we never got them together?????? Evil. Fucked up.
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Imagine seeing them complaining about each other but also having to (begrudgingly if you're Fernando) compliment each other IN FRONT of each other. Maybe its a good thing it doesn't exist, bcs then I'd have a heart attack.
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bisupergirl · 1 month
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i miss kara...................
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rollercoasterwords · 2 years
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guys we need to give wlw fics more support and attention!!!! [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing] [posts uncredited writing]
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lillotte17 · 2 months
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..
#not gonna make a real post but i gotta vent a little#there was that one poll abt which DA man has the most annoying fans#which i did not vote in bc as someone who values my own sanity i don't hang out in tags of characters that get on my nerves#but i'm just dumb enough to have looked in the notes and apparently solas was sweeping i guess#which by itself is whatever#but then the tags were just dozens of ppl complaining that solas fans were annoying bc they *checks notes*#post about solas a lot???#and 'flood the lavellan tag'? you know...the only character you can romance him with w/o a mod???#and they hate that we're 'acting like DA4 is going to only be abt him'...you know. the game originally called 'dreadwolf'#idk my guys i get that if someone jumps on your post and makes it abt a character u hate that's annoying#but it sure sounds like ur just bitching abt ppl having fun in their own fandom space#this sounds very much like a YOU issue#like i remember someone literally made a post like 'UGH why do Solavellans even like him?!' that ended up on my dash#and I answered in good faith not feeling like i was being mean or aggressive#and i promptly got yelled at for 'not staying in my lane'#my brother in Christ YOU asked MY part of the fandom a question#Not saying there aren't Solas fans w/ Rancid Takes but i swear half the complaints i see are people just mad that we're having a good time#curate your own online experience guys it's not that hard#i waited 10 years for closure with this dumpster fire man#and no one is going to spoil my fun about it#block me to the moon and back idc
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kaeyapilled · 1 year
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i really didnt see the way alhaitham is acting in the interdarshan as him not wanting kaveh to win so he doesn't move out. in fact that sounds extremely stupid as i type it. sorry to enjoyers of this dynamic but i dont think thats it at all lmao
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bunnihearted · 7 months
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being in pain is so isolating nd alienating lol >.<
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lord-squiggletits · 1 year
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So for anyone who doesn't know, in IDW1 Trypticon is actually a really interesting character. Earlier in the timeline, he's basically just an ancient evil monster that gets awakened and used as a fighting force by the Decepticons (covered by the events of Monstrosity and Primacy, although I'm not sure if he made an appearance earlier in terms of the comics' release order).
Later on in the IDW1 comics, Trypticon becomes a character with his own personality and desires as written by Barber in the Dinobot trilogy (not the phase 1 series but Punishment, Salvation, and Redemption). Basically, Trypticon is very aware of the fact that people see him as a violent monster, but he decides to abandon Cybertronian society entirely because he's tired of being used as a vehicle for others' violence. By the end of the trilogy, he actually has a new hotspot inside of him and is nurturing the next generation of protoforms within his own body. He's literally done a 180 from being a source of destruction and death to being a protective, nurturing, life-giving force. And this is interesting because, although Trypticon DID have a personality before Barber wrote him, Barber's take on Trypticon gave the "big scary Decepticon titan" a much more 3D personality that made him a person with his own goals, disinterested in the plots and schemes of others. And that's really cool!
So what ended up happening Trypticon in the finale of IDW1, Unicron?
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He gets killed off. In the background. With no one giving a shit about it. Because Barber decided it was more important that, IN THE FINALE OF THE SERIES THAT WAS ENDING IDW1 AND WOULD BE THE LAST ISSUES HE WOULD EVER WRITE, we as the viewers be subjected to a Literally Who OC that no one cares about crying and bitching about how Optimus Prime is a tyrant and a fascist. This entire panel is almost literally shot in a comedic way, like the trope of "person monologuing while something crazy happens behind them that they're completely clueless to."
Trypticon got an interesting characterization that made him more than just a monster, but I guess it was more important to kill him off in the background of a panel so that Miss Literally Nobody can waste an entire page of the LAST SERIES OF THE CONTINUITY being a whining bitch about Optimus, which by the way is what she's been doing literally this whole time since she basically exists just to complain about Optimus.
Oh and by the way, Trypticon was carrying the next generation of protoforms inside of his body, and Cybertron (plus every other colony) got destroyed during the Unicron finale, so I guess an entire fucking generation of new Cybertronians also got slaughtered in this panel. How fun and exciting! I guess putting in that really depressing character death of "man changes his ways and gets to live happily but gets killed off for shock value" was really important to put in the ending of the series to make us readers feel satisfied about our beloved story ending! Oh but not only does he die, he dies IN THE BACKGROUND PRACTICALLY AS A FOOTNOTE so that a different character no one cares about can talk about her feelings, wasting crucial time bitching about how much she doesn't like Optimus while TRYPTICON IS LITERALLY DYING BEHIND HER BUT I GUESS SLIDE IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT FOR US TO BE CARING ABOUT.
This is what happens when you're more concerned about huffing your own farts Writing A Theme, Man than you care about creating a satisfying ending that fans will actually enjoy lmao. Who cares about Trypticon and possibly his children that we got attached to as a result of the previous comics dying? This literal nobody who no one cares about needs to have her time in the spotlight monologuing about shit that doesn't matter while everyone around her is fucking dying.
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l0rd-0f-c0ws · 19 days
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I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun
#sorry if anyone sees these im tired of using my personal discord servet to vent. i always spiral too much#anyways i have an idea for a good poem to write for class because of recent events#ughhhh idk i just wish i wasnt so annoying about asking if i can open ip to people#or if someone would just ask if i was okay. i mean actually id probably lie i am not actually good at being open.#but like hey idk it feels nice to feel like people genuinely want to know#ughhhhfhfhf i do this to myself sometimes JSHSJSKDJDJD#welp its just how life goes. i feel lonely all the time and i soldier on#surely helping the next person will make me feel better! nope. surely helping yhis next person will make me feel better! nope. surely-#tgats me. thats what i sound like#yeah idk it feels like everyone is going through something worse than me so itd be a moral failing on my part#to ask them if i could just like. feel bad. noticeably#not even talk about it just look down and out of it for a day#yknow i emailed one of my teachers asking permission to go by a new preferred name#this is at like. a massive very queer and trans art school.#and i asked him permission to do this#and i was joking with my friends about how pathetic i sounded in it#and one of them patted me on the head and said “there there buddy” like very jokingly#but i almost cried because thats the first time in so long someone has like. really tried to comfort me#or shown me much physical affection#my mom gives me hugs and stuff but thats always about her. i dont blame her shes got a lot of stuff going on#but idk its really selfish of me but i just wanna have people see me and feel bad for me and it be about my pain for a little while#ill get over it im just being a teenager but shit god fucking damnit#i just want a break from feeling like my world is falling apart#then getting some footing#then it falling apart again#okay i feel a bit better now better stop the complain train JDJDJSKSJD#hey why do i never hear that it rhymes and everything thays so good#damn i gotta use that more#welp weve reached our stop sorry if anyone ever read thjs. hope you have a nice day tho lol
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boatemboys · 2 months
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in another universe we were kids together
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thecherrygod · 4 months
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#my posts#...........................................................................................................................................#............................................................................................................................................#is that enough i think that's enough#yeah that's how its going#everything's been getting worse and I've been feeling very bad but also very pathetic and like complaining almost makes me feel worse but#i can't do anything else about this so like. vent post lmao bc I'm a dumbass#i truly just want to(redacted)but one of those isn't an option and the other i have a drs appointment soon and i don't want to explain that#everything is just. bad. and what isn't i feel like it's getting bad and it's my fault. and I'm probably right.#just. i hate it here#the deserving mentality is truly getting to me and i fucking hate it. it's not logical. I'll still agree with it.#i truly don't deserve the food stuff i can't keep in my life and i deserve the shit that in getting and i can't stop agreeing with that#'oh this classmate wants to have lunch with me on Saturday after working on something! i should cancel before it's too late-#-so i can continue feeling bad for being an apple bc people should hate me bc I'm horrible and don't deserve kindness' like#it's. it's false. it's not logical. and yet#everyone else there's the fucking plexiglass wall and where it wasn't i think it's getting formed and it is my fault probably#i am annoying that one is true#.... I've been making posts like this all day and deleting them bc I'm pathetic also. it's.#... there's a little too much going on lmao#nothing's worth it and i feel like shit and anything i could try to do about it doesn't work and I'm just tired#... in case someone does read this i know it sounds worrying but nothing will happen tbh I'm just a pathetic coward who's sad and tired#and tired of being sad in a way that feels like it's getting worse#I'm not very sure when was the last time i felt. this bad in just. i don't know how to make it stop lmao#also in already annoying so this is all i can do i think lmao#i think I'm seeing now I'm just. being redundant and if i keep this up too much i will delete this. and i should but. i don't think i will#also without saying much this year the one thing™ has been worse than usual and that's not helping either so it truly is just.#that everything is kinda very bad#.... yeah. whatever. it's just.¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯#... i truly wish killing myself was still an option like when i was a teen bit it's not so i just have to deal with whatever this is#... i hate being aware this is all super illogical bc the logical post of my brain teams up making me feel worse somehow.
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karouvas · 5 months
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me: I’m fine
me, 10 seconds later: the Greywaren mind meld was sooo stupid and the worst part of it is that device Could have been implemented without it feeling like a total cop out if it was say, characters having an actual argument/conflict in some type of dream space, alternate version of reality each others memories etc. if we were actually tracking them through all that and not just “they were wanted…” as the resolution … the actuality of it was just lazy.
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