#pet peeve i keep running into | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderenightmare · 1 month

Text

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: implied and/or present elements of dubcon/noncon, yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, quirkless reader, mentioned death of important character, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, mentions of hypochondriasis, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ gn reader

Sharp crimson eyes assess the fresh scrapes and swelling ruining your soft skin. A deep scowl on his face.

“Tch—look at all this…” he grumbles disapprovingly to no one but himself—too upset with you to acknowledge you, yet treating you no different than if you were glass. “These are gonna last weeks.”

You’d tried running away again—tripped and slipped up all on your own, stumbling through hallways and tumbling down stairs in your panic, only to stop short at the locked door—bolted and padlocked beyond all sane reason.

He was disappointed with you, sure. But that’s not the reason for his current anger.

“Sit there while I get bandages,” he orders, getting up from his crouch, pointing a strict finger at you in threat. “Dare move, and it’ll be bed rest for a whole ‘nother week.”

Bakugou’s obsession with your quirkless nature started a couple of months ago…

It was okay at first—he was hardly the first person you’d met who addressed you with patronizing resolve—but he got weird about it quickly.

You worked at another hero agency he was going to be collaborating with for a big upcoming mission. You weren’t a sidekick or anything grand like that, but a simple pencil-pusher—because they need those too, you know? And you liked your job. You got to work along with some of the greatest heroes in the world, see them up close, and help them out with those things they didn’t have time for—paperwork like budget justifications and incidence reports. Yeah, you might have been somewhat of a pushover, but hey, the salary was good, the environment was lively, and even though you don’t have one yourself, you got to see some really amazing quirks in action. It was, out of what you could hope for, your dream job.

The place was in a real buzz when they heard the number one hero would be joining them for a couple of months. You were excited, too—it wasn’t often your smaller agency would undertake big missions—especially not ones that required such big hero names.

DynaMight wasn’t one to share much of anyone’s enthusiasm. He was strict and down to business and otherwise had a major pet peeve for unnecessary rabble loitering around. He’d stopped mid-meeting at the sight of you, seeing as you were obviously no fieldworker, and had gone as far as to demand you tell him your value as if your presence had been some big distracting nuisance.

Luckily, your Pro-Hero coworkers had stepped in on your behalf and told him you were a transcriber keeping track for later reference. It was probably only a slip-up that they’d added the fact that you were quirkless.

You don’t hold it against them, or well… you did a little, but you couldn’t really blame them either. Evoking the explosion hero’s rage must have made them flustered and desperate to play any sympathy card available to them in the spur of the moment.

Of course, it wasn’t their card to play, nor would you ever have played it yourself, but if the humility was worth anything, it successfully managed to calm the top hero down. Actually, he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting. And if you hadn’t been so busy taking notes, you would have noticed his lingering stare.

A couple more incidents had occurred in the office after that. Among others, he’d caught an incoming paper airplane your coworker had thrown your way—stepped right in out of nowhere and cremated it with a controlled explosion before it could hit you.

You’d been speechless for a moment—the entire desk area along with you—confused by his strangeness and, at least in your case, even somewhat appalled by his utter lack of consideration—in your office space, no less. Seriously, top hero or not, you can’t just barge in and incinerate stuff?

“That was an important document,” you'd informed—brow quirked—no regard to how offending him could probably make grounds to have you fired. You'd only slightly regretted it after having said it. But geez, you thought—shouldn’t the top hero have some semblance worth of self-control?

“You shouldn’t be playing around,” he'd stated—tone just as sour as the stink of burned paper tainting the air. “Someone might get hurt.”

You’d almost scoffed at him but had held your tongue until he walked away.

Back then, you’d thought it was an offhand insult directed at you and your respected coworker—that the explosion hero had just called you both unprofessional to your faces, like the biggest scumbag to ever walk in through your humble doors. But looking back at it now, you realize he probably might have meant it in its most sincere regard.

His over-protectiveness knows no limit, you’ve learned—calling it patronizing would be a joke in comparison. He treats you as if anything in proximity might make you shatter by association—like a bubble made from the most thinned-out solution of water and soap.

You’d woken up in your well-prepared pillow room shortly after your agency’s collaboration with DynaMight had ended. It didn’t take long for you to piece together his sickness after that.

At first, you’d thought it was a more severe case of benevolent discrimination. After all, most people treat you with some amount of pity after being privy to your being quirkless—treating it no less than a disability of sorts.

But Bakugou’s view of you was increasingly more unsettling than that—suffering from some type of delusion that has him fully convinced you’re utterly inept without him.

In some odd ways, it would have been better if he was just faking—if he was doing it all, treating you as an inferior for some sick sense of deriving his own sadistic pleasure. But no, you think he actually fully and whole-heartedly believes you’re a danger to yourself and that anything, if not monitored in the perfect conditions of the controlled environment he’s established for you, will result in your fatal illness or harm.

He’s a full-sworn hypochondriac concerning you—even as he himself dregs home some of the worst injuries you’ve ever seen as if it were nothing but a splinter in the rough of his worn soles. Meanwhile, he’s scared that if you leave the bed without socks on, it will give you pneumonia.

You were sure you had a couple of control freaks at the agency, but nothing measures up to Bakugou’s mania. How he dresses you is one thing—how he feeds you is another. An assortment of pills first, all vitamins and supplements, a spoon of cod liver oil, then a balanced meal reminding you of those tragic trays you’re served at the hospital—four times a day without fail—breakfast, lunch, dinner, then supper—he also keeps track of all the water he’s decided you need to drink—all things perfectly regulated according to your size and age.

Then there’s the sleep schedule with a set number of eight hours—no more and no less. Exercise is also necessary—workout plans designed and dictated by him. Nothing too severe, though—he’s afraid your quirkless constitution won’t be able to handle anything beyond thirty minutes max.

And then, of course, there’s hygiene.

You sobbed and fought hysterically the first time he’d washed you—in the tub with him after he’d stripped you naked. In fact, you’d made such a fuss he’d had to fetch a sedative.

Even in your drowsed state of complete numb delirium, you’d still heard how he’d fretted over it—the tiny needle hole he’d torn in your arm—as if that was the real violation, even as he’d thoroughly molested the entirety of your body with different cloths and sponges for no shorter than a full hour.

You’d been terrified, of course—horrified by his meticulous routines and odd nature. Yet strangely, despite his rigid rules, he won't ever get violent to enforce them.

You had expected it of him—being known for his brutality—the hero without mercy—the symbol of retribution. You know he's no stranger to leaving the battlefield bloody. But with you, he won't so much as harm a single strand of hair from your head.

He will instead bargain with you, sometimes for hours. Eat what he tells you, and you’ll watch a movie afterward. Go to sleep, and he'll escort you out to see the sun for a few hours in the morning. Let him ensure you wash correctly, and he’ll allow you to dry and dress yourself.

And in those moments when you leave him no other option, he subdues you through the help of a needle again and never ever by manhandling you—it was as if that weren’t even a viable option. It was obvious he regarded the sedative as the uttermost last resort, always muttering on about chemicals and whatnot under his breath. It seemed he would rather avoid it at all costs—but also, that if it stood between allowing the disturbance of the schedule he felt was needed to keep you healthy and forcibly putting you to sleep, he knew without a doubt which option he considered the lesser evil.

He was certain of it all. And at some point or another… you had even begun sharing his fear of attracting some sort of illness yourself—even something so small as a common cold. But no, it wasn’t the same. Yours was not a fear of the actual disease itself but of what he might do if he caught you sneezing and coughing. You could only imagine the upgraded pill table he’d have in store for you then and what other measures he’d instill due to his excessive ideas of necessity.

And that’s why you’d tried running again even after what must have been a couple of months since the last time. The thought of his inane insanity having affected you so badly you’d started playing along was all too much a painful realization—you’d felt compelled to reject it—run away even when you knew you’d never be able to make the door open if you could even reach it.

You knew it would be in vain, and even though running headfirst into something you know isn’t going to work might be the first signs of madness—you’re still relieved to have found some remaining worth of fight still in you, even if it couldn’t amount to anything.

He comes back as quickly as he’d left, still muttering to himself, cross about the damage you’ve sustained—like you’re one of the collector’s items he keeps up on the mantle in his office—green costume and a big bright smile. You remember the exposés—they’d been rather gruesome, about the hero who’d died in battle not so long ago—a couple of years back now, give or take. He had the number-one spot before DynaMight.

The current top hero retakes his spot at your feet, sighing deeply once he starts dabbing your minor bruises with disinfectant, followed by unnecessary bandages. You’re silent as you watch him work—all so diligently as he does everything, cutting no corners and running zero lights.

His efforts, done with the very epitome of care, all disgust you.

Your lip curls. “I’m not what you think I am…”

His keen glare stops obsessing over your wounds to look up at your face—he’d already tended to the ones he could see, but he’s sure more would blossom and swell in a couple of hours. It’s beyond worrisome—but it’s his fault in any case. He should move you to a place without stairs—it’s way too dangerous for someone as accident-prone as you.

You make eye contact, and his anger fades at the sight of tears welling in your corners—softening as if he’s convinced even a harsh look will have you shatter in his hands.

“I’m quirkless. But ’m not weak.” You’re sure you preached much of the same back at the beginning of your stay, though then you’d hurdled it at him—screamed it from the top of your lungs until you’d lost your voice, unknowing that it’s a statement he’s heard a hundred times over spoken by different lips from yours.

It’s a funny thing almost… how your eyes remind him of his—so soft and yet brimming with determination—a determination that will only get you killed.

He’d put faith in those words before, believed them beyond himself, and it had cost him everything.

But even so, he can’t fault you for believing in them yourself… they’re what makes him love you, after all.

He smiles gently—a most gut-churning sight from the all-scowling man.

“I’m sure you think so.”

He doesn’t relay it with any type of harshness but pity—gross concern and better judgment—overwhelming oodles of it in his garnet eyes, weighing them down with something so awful as compassion and… you don’t exactly know… but it looks like grief.

♡ part two ♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

2K notes · View notes

werecreature-addicted · 11 months

Note

Werewolf and rabbit girl, Werewolf fucking a cute little girl who has cute bunny ears coming out of her hair and an adorable white tail that he loves to grab and pull her to get on her knees and lift her butt up , with her face on the ground and her ears drooping and flooded with the excitement and pleasure that the werewolf gives her, from whom she was supposed to run and get away by instinct, but she only gave up her pussy so that he could fuck her until she went crazy.

and the strawberries she was picking were left lying on the ground next to her being fucked 🐇🍓

anon you've unknowingly stumbled onto a huge pet peeve of mine.

Rabbits are not cute doe-eyed subs. They are in fact huge god damn brats. This bunny knows exactly what the fuck they are doing when they sway that cotton tale. And thumps their foot, throwing a fit if she doesn't get dicked down within an inch of their life.

Prey instincts tell you to freeze and hide, but instead, you run, just to get chased. It's more a game than anything else, you look behind yourself often, just to make sure that your wolfie really is following.

You know what you're doing, you know what monsters live in this patch of woods. it's not a surprise when clawed hands wrap around your waist and bring you to the ground.

You have to stop yourself from grinning as you play innocent, begging for your life, spreading your legs to show off your bunny cunt while you seductively ask if there's anything you can do to keep your life.

"you don't need to do this, you can just ask to get fucked, this is like the third time this month," he growls, his eyes drifting down to your exposed cunt.

"I like things this way" you protest. He takes both of your floppy ears in one hand and tugs on them hard,

"Maybe I should punish you bunny. That might make the lesson stick, what do you think about that?" he asks. You grin. As long as you get fucked, you'll take any punishment the big bad wolf has in store.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolves #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend

3K notes · View notes

keyotosprompts · 8 months

Text

only falling in love

childhood friends to lovers prompts

⇴ "you used to rub dirt on me, and now you're proclaiming your love towards me."

⇴ ^^ "in my case, i was rubbing dirt on you because i love you. i wanted to do everything with you and i wanted you to do everything with me."

⇴ being together from elementary school to high school, then moving off to different colleges. years later, persons a and b reunite once again and find that all of their feelings towards each other are still as strong as ever.

⇴ knowing someone inside and out. being there for all their awkward phases (and creating inside jokes because of it). knowing all their habits and their pet peeves.

⇴ their families didn't like each other, but that didn't stop person a and person b from becoming friends. however, when person a begins to develop feelings for person b, the family rivalry becomes a bit more complicated.

⇴ person b's heart aches when they see person a with another person. b claims that it's because they're not used to seeing person a so intimate with another person besides themself, but their heart says otherwise.

⇴ "where do you see yourself in twenty years?" "with you." (ARGHHHHHH)

⇴ having a love that runs so deep that other people aren't enough to fill the space that the childhood friend has created.

⇴ "you're telling me that you've only had one crush your entire life? that's bullshit. tell me who it is." "no."

⇴ "i can't have feelings for them, we've known each other since childhood!" (a classic)

⇴ "you're important to me. you're like..." person a drifts off, not wanting to confess their true feelings because they think it will ruin everything, "family." (EREMIKA MUCH?????)

⇴ person a keeps treating person b as a friend because they're scared person b will react differently if they were to enact on their true feelings.

⇴ person a and person b get asked the question of when the other person fell in love. person b's face lights up with mischief and begins to tell the most embarrassing story ever while person a has their head in their hands.

⇴ "do you remember when–" "nope! no. no i don't. i actually don't know what you're talking about."

⇴ person a and person b are laying in the same bed together when person b is like "oh. oh i want this forever." it's a simple and mundane moment, but for person b, being with person a was everything.

⇴ "you're in love with me?!" "you just found out?"

⇴ "well you weren't being obvious!" meanwhile: person b was literally taking any chance to admire person a, looking for person a in every room, speaking to person a 24/7, trailing their fingers down person a's arms, and staring (bonus points if they crinkle their eyebrows in that soft and loving gaze) at person a when they speak.

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#dialogue prompts #otp writing #otp prompts #imagine your otp #writeblr #writing #writing prompts #fluff prompts #childhood friends to lovers #creative writing #writing prompt #prompts #prompt list #dialogue prompt

2K notes · View notes

oars · 2 years

Note

With being vague with you could you put an example? since I have a bit of trouble understanding sorry 😭 you mean being vague about your opinions on something?

i guess thats ironic lmao but i mean when people are asking for something like to soft block bc im mutuals with someone specific or tagging a specific post or any other request that might tailor to me i'd rather someone just dm or ask me or tell me what you want me to do

#.mail #its not something to usually get upset over but its just a personal pet peeve #bc i hate my mind having to run around and figure out what people mean #theres also the chance i just wont know what you're talking about and whatever issue will just continue #i had an old mutual vague me about sbing them after they said if you follow __ to do just that #so i just let them keep following me if they had a problem with it they could block me on their own terms bc idk what the fuck they want

0 notes

hoonvrs · 1 year

Text

ENHA AND THEIR PARTNER PRIVILEGES

req for 1k event!

PROMPT enha and the types of partner privileges they’d give their s/o

PAIRING enha x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS swearing, delusions

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTE i loved writing this omg

LEE HEESEUNG

( going into his bedroom unannounced )

ever since hee got his own bedroom everything changed

god forbid any of the members go into his room without asking first

even if they go in to tell him something they have to knock first

so imagine the shock on their face when they saw you one day just go in

no knocking, no nothing

and hee didn’t even get mad?? didn’t even bring it up to you

made all the members (especially niki) sulk cause why could you go in whenever you please whilst they couldn’t

PARK JONGSEONG

( touching his guitar set )

the way jay is protective over his guitars you’d think he birthed them himself

one of the members could simply breath next them and he starts losing his shit

can’t even be near it cause “what if you trip and fall into it”

next thing you know here’s jay trying to teach you guitar

you didn’t even know he acted like that until the members made it seem like you killed someone when you randomly took it out of the case one day

they all told you how he acts whenever they go near it

cue the offended gasp when they find out jay has never acted that way with you

SIM JAEYUN

( sleep together )

as much as jake is a physically affectionate person

he hates sharing a bed

he’s just always preferred sleeping without having fight someone over his own blanket

but with you he insists to sleep together

he’s even kicked out niki one too many times out of his bed

and even if you do sometimes (read: most of the time) end up stealing the blanket, he uses that as an excuse to cuddle you for warmth

PARK SUNGHOON

( ruffle/touch his hair )

one of hoons biggest pet peeve is when someone touches his hair

and if someone even so much as comes near his hair once he’s styled it

be ready to deal with a pissed off sunghoon

the amount of arguments he’s had with the other members over this is crazy

so, when you decided to on day ruffle his hair in front of the boys after they watched him spend 15 minutes on it, they were prepared for an argument

surprise surprise he just laughs at your antics leaving the boys offended because “what happened to bros before hoes”

KIM SUNWOO

( be physically affectionate )

as much as jake is physically affectionate with everyone, sunoo isn’t

he’s always been someone to be a little uncomfortable with any show of physical touch

thus, never initiating it

cue the members pouting as soon as they see sunoo run to give you a hug

all start complaining how he never hugs them, or even returns their own hugs

confuses you a little cause sunoo has never not been affectionate with you, even before your relationship

YANG JUNGWON

( cry in front of you )

as the leader of enhypen, jungwon has always believed he has to be the pillar of the group

or where he basically never shows when anything is bothering/upsets him to his members

as much as all the members keep reassuring him that it’s okay to cry in front of them

you’d never catch yang jungwon dead crying

except you apparently

to you, jungwon had always seemed to be secure with his emotions, and maybe the members are jealous who knows

NISHIMURA RIKI

( babying him )

no matter how many times niki will insist he’s ‘mature’

he’ll always be your baby

doesn’t matter if you’re older or younger than him

boy doesn’t even let the members baby him as the maknae

they could simply call him a cute nickname and suddenly he becomes defensive

everyone was shocked to find out he willingly lets you call him ‘baby duck’ after ranting to the whole nation that he is a puma

perm taglist @mesopret @tnyhees @haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @chiyuv @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly

3K notes · View notes

omgthatdress · 1 year

Text

To get into the first looks that were made for Barbie, we need to understand the beauty and fashion of 1959.

1950s fashion existed under that shadow of World War II. Women of the war era were hardy, hard-working, and practical. Fashion was also extremely practical, using as little rationed material as possible. The silhouette was boxy, masculine and almost military, with big broad shoulders and knee-length skirts. Rationing and austerity continued in the years immediately following the war, but then in 1947, something miraculous happened:

(The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Christian Dior created “The New Look.” Now okay, fashion in general had been leaning into this new silhouette and Dior was far from the only designer to be working with it, but his was the most copied and most iconic.

“The New Look” was a call back to the sumptuous femininity of the mid-Victorian era, bringing back tiny waists held in place by impossibly tight corsets and big, full skirts with crinolines and hoops.

The silhouette was a return to classic femininity, but the materials garments themselves were pure modernity: a practical ensemble for a wealthy woman-on-the-go who was lunching with her friends in Paris.

Looking back at Barbie’s 1959 looks, Christian Dior’s fingerprints are all over them, but I see plenty of other designers in the mix, as well. It’s actually very easy to find near-matches of almost all of Barbie’s 1959 looks with a cover of Vogue from the 1950s. Barbie from the get-go was an idealized woman who existed in a world that was separate from the middle-class American suburbs that the little girls who played with her lived in.

Looking at classic first-run Barbie, there’s honestly not a whole lot to say about the bathing suit look. I mean, yeah, that’s what fashionable women wore to the beach in the 1950s. Her buxom curvy body fit the idealized standards epitomized by Marilyn Monroe.

Her face has the heavy makeup that was worn by French fashion models of the time.

Arched, heavily-styled brows, eyeshadow, slightly winged eyeliner, mascara, and of course perfect red lips with matching mani and pedi. One of my pet peeves about vintage style is when people wear winged eyeliner as “50s housewife glam.” NO. Your average middle class American Mrs. Homemaker was not wearing that kind of makeup. Winged eyeliner in the 50s only had a small wing that accentuated the eyelashes, and was generally only worn by the high-fashion crowd. Maybe on a special extra glamorous date with Mr. Husband, but not to a church potluck. Anyway, end of rant, but you see that’s what Barbie is trying to emulate.

Her hair, however is different: the poodle hairstyle was one favored by teenage girls. Seen here on the squeaky-clean America’s sweetheart, Debbie Reynolds:

The playful, youthful hair pulls her back and keeps her from being *too* grown-up. It’s the first step in the balancing act that Barbie has always pulled off with aplomb: to represent adulthood without being too far out of reach of children’s imaginations.

#Barbie #1950s

2K notes · View notes

justwinginglife · 24 days

Note

If you're comfortable with it, is it okay for me to request for Mean!Hoshina? Who finds it cute and endearing to tease and annoy glasses-wearing!(name). Lightly pulling on her hair; pinching certain parts of her body; and hiding/stealing her glasses and leaving handprints on them(some more subtle and unnoticable than others because there's something about having a piece of him in every sight she sees). I was also thinking maybe nsfw at the end where Hoshina steals her glasses and the built up tension between them leads to his cum smeared her glasses.

Once again, thank you for this delicious idea. If I don't find my own glasses covered in Hoshina's cum at some point, I will demand a refund. I also changed up the request a bit, hope you don't mind. And if yall couldn't tell by the request, this will be NSFW so proceed at your own caution.

The Biggest Tease

Soshiro Hoshina was the biggest damn tease you'd ever met and sometimes you didn't know if he hated you or if he loved you, but you did know one thing- the man was fucking obsessed with you.

He made it his own personal mission to track you down everyday just to pick on you and though you wanted to be annoyed at him, you couldn't help but feel smug at just how much time he was devoting to you. He could do anything he wanted and what he wanted was anything to do with you. It was quite the ego boost if you were honest with yourself.

At first, he'd just tease you verbally. He'd call you four eyes and you'd call him shit for brains because he couldn't come up with a single original insult. But he wasn't trying to insult you. He wanted your attention. He wanted you to punch his arm, roll your eyes at him, slice through his defenses with some witty remark. Everything about you was enticing to him. From the way you played with your hair, to the way you scrunched up your nose, to the way you pushed up your glasses. He could never get enough of you. He was addicted.

Eventually, his growing desire to be near you translated into physical touch. When you'd twirl the ends of your hair, he'd steal a strand from in between your fingers and tug on it gently, reveling in how soft it was. When you’d stretch your arms, he’d pinch your vulnerable sides, and then smirk when you’d yelp. When you’d take your glasses off to clean them, he’d swipe them from your hands, chills running down his spine as his fingers brushed yours, then he’d give the lenses a good lick, and call it “clean,” before handing it back to you smugly.

When he found out that it was one of your biggest pet peeves having anything dirtying your glasses, he went out of his way to smear them any chance he could. Instead of saying hi, every morning he would strut up to you, poke your lenses, and then cheerfully skip away, as if he didn’t just commit a heinous crime in your eyes.

As irritating as his persistence was, you could no longer imagine a life where he wasn’t cozied up next to you, using your shoulder as a pillow on the transport, or snagging a fork straight out of your mouth so he could use it too, or even just testing the limits of how close you would allow him to get to you, smudging your lenses with the tip of his nose. You’d made the mistake of telling him once that every time you looked through your glasses and saw a mark on the lens, you thought of him, and now he’d got it in his head that he needed to keep smudging them to remind you of his presence, as if he wasn’t already constantly by your side, trying to rile you up.

And he did rile you up.

At first, you tried to ignore him. Tried not to give him the time of day, tried not to give him the satisfaction of your attention. But then your playful, devilish side got the better of you, and suddenly you were paying more attention to him than ever before, trying to figure out what pushed his buttons, trying to figure out what ticked him off. So you’d ruffle his hair after he’d just brushed it, you’d unzip his jacket after he just put it on, you’d untie his laces after he just slipped into his shoes.

Before you knew it, you’d danced your way into a gray area in your relationship with him, doing things like nipping at his neck when he was trying to concentrate on paperwork, then squeezing his thigh as he struggled to keep his boner at bay. You’d whisper seductive things in his ear and then prance off like you hadn’t said a word. Hoshina was starting to think you invented blue balls.

So today, when you noticed he was lingering by the locker rooms longer than he usually did after work, you figured he was probably going to take a shower before heading home tonight, and you had the genius idea to sneak into the locker room, steal his clothes, and stash them away elsewhere. When he came out of the shower, you planned to be sitting smugly on the bench waiting for him; maybe you’d even make him beg on his knees for his clothes back. But your plans backfired when his figure emerged from the steamed up shower, water dripping down his rippling muscles, hair sloppy and sexy, with a sly smirk plastered across his face as he leaned against a nearby wall, eying you up and down.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think I’d have an audience while I showered. You wouldn’t happen to know where my clothes went, would you?” He teased, knowing full well that you were completely distracted by the sight of his physique and… something else.

Your eyes had trailed their way down his chiseled chest, down his toned abs, down to the ever-growing erection in between his legs. It seemed to stiffen even more with every second you stared at it, like it was pleased at your attention, like it was standing at the ready.

You gulped and gripped the bench tight.

He grinned devilishly, before pulling himself off the wall and slinking his way towards you. “Nothing to say, love? Aren’t you usually so full of quick remarks?” He stroked himself as he walked and it was like your eyes had been commanded to watch, because you suddenly found it extremely difficult to look away.

“Shit,” was all you managed to whisper before you found him right in front of you, his cock mere inches away from your mouth.

He bent down to murmur in your ear, “Now, what were all those naughty things you were saying to me the other day? Shall we revisit some of them?”

You flushed bright red, and he pulled away to admire his handiwork, pinching at your colored cheeks. “Adorable, really. I bet those cheeks would look even better stuffed with my cock, yeah?”

You unintentionally licked your lips at the thought and he groaned.

But one groan was enough, the sound like music to your ears. You wanted to know what other sounds you could pry from his lips. His gorgeous lips.

So, without a second thought, your hand reached out to yank his cock towards you and suddenly it was hitting the back of your throat before either of you had time to fully process what was going on.

His cocky demeanor vanished, melting away into your mouth as you sucked the smug right out of him. You had teased him endless amounts of times before, but he never imagined you'd actually follow through with any of it. He wasn't sure he was prepared for your onslaught. When you sucked harder and a whimper escaped him, it only spurred you on further. His fingers dug into your shoulder as you continued to choke him down. The tiled walls of the locker room echoed with the sounds of his moans and the sloppy, wet noises of his cock fucking your throat, and he thought the lewdness of it all might overwhelm him. He was practically dizzy with desire.

Meanwhile, you thought you’d just been trying to get him back for his arrogance, trying to shut him up, trying to make him squirm for you, but when his precum started to seep into your mouth, you knew you were sucking him dry for your own enjoyment. You hadn't realized just how badly you’d wanted to taste him and now that the physical evidence of his attraction to you was shuddering in your mouth, drizzling with pleasure, you couldn’t stop tasting him.

Your mouth suctioned around his cock, his bulging veins carving delicious indents into the walls of your mouth as you swallowed down more of his erection. For a brief moment, you wondered if you could be selfish enough to command him to relocate his boner into your cunt. If he felt this good in your throat, you could only imagine the insurmountable pleasure he’d fuck into your pussy. You groaned as your slick began to dampen your underwear and you pulled away from him, trying to get ahold of yourself, trying to remember that you were teasing him, that you were in control.

“F-fuck, d-don’t s-stop, w-why’d you…” His fingers pierced your flesh as he attempted to steady himself against your shoulder, but his cock was aching, and he needed relief. He grabbed ahold of it, just to stop the quivering, just to ground himself, but the sensation of his hand wrapping around his overloaded erection sent waves of pleasure pulsing through him and a flood of his hot, white cum burst from his tip, splashing all over your face and coating your lenses with a thick layer.

You blinked and slowly tugged your glasses off your face. Even half blind, you could see that he was embarrassed. Hoshina, the man who always went out of his way to dirty your lenses, was now ashamed that he’d dirtied them in the dirtiest way possible. You smirked at the thought. Maybe you could tease him some more. You ran a digit down your cheek, collecting his cum on the tip, before seductively licking it off the end of your finger. You heard him swallow.

“Oh, what a shame. Looks like I’m all dirty now. If only there was some way to get cleaned up.” You stripped bare and then grabbed his hand, leading him into one of the showers.

He was stunned but he followed behind you anyway.

“Now be a good boy and save some of that dirty, dirty cum of yours for my cunt, yeah?”

His eyes widened in surprise, but his cock was eager to take you up on the offer, hardening again on the spot.

You turned on the shower and began making out with him underneath the showerhead, tangling your hands in his hair as you let the warm water rinse the cum from your body.

Amidst the passion and the heat, he somehow found his voice again.

“You’re such a goddamn tease.” He growled against your neck, nipping and sucking at it. Then he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist before pressing you up against the shower wall.

“Ah, so he does remember how to talk.” You teased as you licked at his collarbone.

His eyes darkened, a bottomless hunger emerging inside him. “Laugh while you can. It’s my turn, love, and by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t remember how to walk.”

“Ooh, promises, promises, Hoshina.”

He silenced any further retorts with a sharp thrust up your dripping cunt.

You yelped and he smirked.

“Oh, I always make good on my promises, baby. And I promise, I'll make good on this one all damn night.”

#soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #anime #hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic

170 notes · View notes

orqheuss · 1 year

Text

I would know him blind

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?” *** You'd been with Ominis for some time, and as much as you loved your intimate times together, you wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes for a change. Your darling husband is more than happy to help you satiate your curiosity.

Word count: 4.6k

Tags: p n v sex, bondage, blindfolds, light bdsm, light dom/sub undertones, pet names, praise kink, ownership kink, corruption kink (just a lil bit), possessive!ominis, cunnilingus, established relationship, body worship, romantic sex

You loved your husband more than anything in this world. You had been with Ominis since your sixth year of Hogwarts, and even now, ten years later, you were still as thick as thieves. He supported your desire to teach at the school, even though you would be gone for days at a time and away from his comforting arms, and in turn you supported him and his work as an inventor, no matter how much time he spent locked away in his office. Through it all, you were a team. It was a truly happy marriage, one you would be perfectly content in until your dying day.

That being said, there were some aspects of your life that had gotten a bit…stale. Being together for so long led to some challenges with keeping things interesting. In this particular instance, your more intimate times were starting to become lackluster. It was still lovely whenever you two got together, but you longed for your husband to do something surprising. Ever since your first night together it had been the same routine, and you were, quite frankly, bored.

Not that you’d ever tell him that. Godrick’s heart!

Being a professor had its perks, one of which being access to the restricted section of the library at any hour of the day. No student is going to question a professor as to why they are out at such an hour, it would be absolutely balmy. Not that you didn’t miss the chaos of sneaking down there with one particular Sallow twin, but it was certainly nice to not fear the appearance of Peeves around any and all corners. On the nights that you slept at the castle, you’d been reading up on some things in the restricted section, and had learned some interesting changes to try in the bedroom that would hopefully intrigue the blond. Rather shockingly, the “Intimate Literature” section was…extensive. There were things in some of those books that you would have never thought of, even in your most raunchy dreams.

One particular thing caught your attention, both for the possibilities it held but also for the fact that it had been something you thought about before: seeing in the way that Ominis sees. The Gaunt man’s blindness was never a hindrance to him, nor to you, but it definitely intrigued you. Around the house, he mainly saw through his enchanted wand, the location charm showing him shapes and outlines so he is able to get to and fro. But in the bedroom, Ominis preferred to use his hands, and sometimes his mouth, to find his way up and down your body. His favorite pastime was finding out what made you tick, what made you whine, what made you scream— always the tinkerer, always curious.

As much as you loved him touching you, you wanted to know what it felt like when you touched him; no sight to help him know from what direction you were coming from or what you were going to do to him. One simple finger running down his chest would send his heart aflutter under your palm— your legs brushing against his would make him breathe heavy like you had taken all the air from his lungs. He once described it to you as feeling everything the earth could possibly give you but so much more. It looked electric, and Merlin, you wanted to be shocked all over.

So, the only logical way for this to happen was for you to be blindfolded.

All you had to do was convince your husband, and you knew exactly how to do it.

The always busy blond was locked away in his office when you enacted your plan. You knocked gently on the door, waiting patiently for his word to enter. Upon his muffled, “come in” sauntered into the room, your steps precise and your hips swaying like a dancer. He sensed something different in your posture right away, his ears perking up slightly as he took in the soft cadence of your steps. Leaning back in his office chair and silently activating his location charm, he watched you stalk closer to his desk like a lioness on the prowl. You were the picture of innocence— a slight hop in your step and your arms folded behind your back like a schoolgirl, and in that moment Ominis wanted nothing more than to pin you over his lap and corrupt you for hours. A wayward smirk stretched across his face as he twirled his wand between his fingers, his free hand coming up from his arm rest when you got close enough and running across the skin of your thigh. The blond’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the feeling of the lace trim of your negligee, and his fingers tightened against your pillowy flesh, pushing the skirt upwards with intrigue until your hand stopped him in his tracks. You smirked deviously at the success of your plan so far before climbing into his lap, pressing all of your weight down on his already half-stiff member so he could feel just how hot and needy you were for him.

Ominis groaned lightly at the sudden warmth atop his hardening cock, his hands coming up to grasp at your hips and rock you slightly for that delicious friction he craved. Your breath stuttered in your chest at your bare, sensitive skin rubbing against the unforgiving roughness of his corduroy trousers and you quickly lost yourself in the moment. One of your hands made its way into his blond tresses, mussing up his perfectly styled quiff and pulling him closer for a searing kiss. He eagerly responded to your whims, surrendering under your burning lips and digging his fingertips into the silk that draped across your body. His left hand began exploring as you kissed, roaming up from the love handles at your hips and towards your neck, pausing briefly to paw at your breast and finding nothing underneath your new nightdress. He bit your lip roughly, pulling you back by your neck and greedily sucking in the oxygen that he forgoed to continue snogging you.

Even after years, his kisses still tasted like ambrosia to a mortal.

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?”

You giggled lightly, a lilt of mischievousness hiding behind the sound of pseudo virtue that made Ominis’ heart skip in excitement. You pushed gently against his hand, signaling that you wanted to whisper your desires in his ear, and he pulled you towards his face again, loosening his grip enough for it to be just the right amount of malleable. Your hot breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks, sending a spark of desire down his spine. A part of him wanted to disregard whatever you wanted to tell him, wanted to throw you onto his desk and have his way with you. But, there was a stronger, more curious part of him that also wanted to know what you had in store.

You bit lightly at his earlobe, licking away the pain before murmuring against his pulse. “I want to try something new tonight, if it’s alright with you, darling.”

He growled at your fingernails wracking up and down his clothed arms, the bone just sharp enough to be felt but not enough to leave marks. He pulled your face back, staring into your eyes with an unnerving amount of contact that one with his disability would normally not be able to achieve. There was something tantalizing swirling in his irises, something dangerous, something devious, and you had to steel yourself to continue with your scheme and not drop to your knees and pleasure him then and there. His smile was lopsided and delicious looking when he replied.

“What do you have in mind, little dove?” He traced his finger up the outside of your thigh once more, running the pad of his thumb against the coarse lace. “What devilish thing is swirling in that gorgeous brain of yours?”

You let go of his arms, trusting Ominis to hold you still while you reached into your hair and undid the ribbon holding it up. The black silken cloth caught on the low lamplight of the office space and swallowed the glow like a deep pit of tar. Your hand was delicate as you grasped onto his wrist, lifting his hand from your thigh and raising it level with your chest, palm up towards the ceiling. You first ran the ribbon lightly along his hand, letting the ends tickle his skin just enough to catch his fancy before carefully laying it in his palm. His other hand released your throat finally, taking the other end of the ribbon between his fingers and pulling it until it was completely unraveled between your buzzing bodies. It was smooth in his palm, sensual, one would even say. He approximated that it was around the length of his arm, possibly the width of your wrist.

A look of confusion quickly took over the blond’s features, and you chuckled softly at how adorable he looked. You took the silk from him, leaning forward just enough to gently drape it over his unseeing eyes and whisper against his parted lips.

“I want to feel what you feel when I touch you.”

He gasped against your mouth, his arm snaking around your hip and pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer until your ravenous core was flush with his throbbing manhood. Ominis’ smile was all teeth when you pulled back again, the ribbon dragging against his skin in the most delectable way as you gazed into his eyes.

“Oh, you do, now?” He mused cheekily. “You want to know how I feel when you touch me?”

He took the silk from your hands, letting it run over your exposed collarbones. There was something impish in his smile, like a wolf in sheep's clothing— the cheshire cat would be jealous of its verisimilitude. He was always mischievous in nature while at school, but he had never really brought it under the sheets with you. Perhaps your proposition excited him in a way unfamiliar, you mused. Gently moving it over the backs of your shoulders, he looped it around the front and draped it across your chest like a loose fitting scarf. It was your turn to be perplexed when his hands began to wind around the ends of the satin ribbon, the question only being answered after a maddening pause. Using the silk for leverage, Ominis yanked you closer until your chests were pressed together, noses brushing and mouths inches from touching.

“You want to know how it feels to be blind— completely under the whim of your partner? You want to put your faith entirely in my hands, not knowing what I could possibly do to you next?” His voice lowered with arousal, taking on a gravely, almost growl-like cadence. “You want to surrender yourself to me?”

You sucked in a shaking breath at his insinuation, nodding minutely as your eyes fluttered closed. You were far past coherent sentences at that point. His mouth only inched closer with each word.

“Oh, my darling girl, your wish is my command.”

He stole your breath with his kiss, his skin feeling like pure sunlight under your fingertips. He stood from his seat with you in his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he made his way towards your bedroom via the route he memorized long ago.

Your comforter is plush when you land, cushioning you as Ominis rests his body above yours. You pull him downwards by his collar, your hands only getting a small moment in his hair before he has you by the wrists, one of his hands roughly planting them above your head while the other explored your curves. Only a minute in his domain and you were already his prey. The blond leaned forwards slightly, his back arching so he could reach your supple, sensitive throat, before nipping and sucking at the webbing between your shoulder and neck. You keened softly, rolling your hips upwards to meet his gentle hip trusts. He let go of your wrists, trusting you to keep them there as he carded his hands down your sides, only stopping when he got to the teasing lace of your negligee’s trim. More and more kisses were pressed to the column of your throat as he smoothed the fabric up your body, revealing your bare, naked body underneath to the world. He groaned at the feeling of your baby-soft skin under his fingertips.

“Nothing underneath? Such a good girl for me.”

You felt Ominis reach into his back pocket for his wand, slowly bringing it forwards and above your heads. The point just barely touched the skin of your wrist when he lazily whispered the binding spell.

“Incarcerous.”

Cotton rope the color of the forest at night wrapped itself around your conjoined wrists, tightening just the right amount so that you couldn’t move but you weren’t in pain before winding around a bar on your headboard. A startled gasp fell from your lips at your sudden capture, your eyes filling with excitement and a little bit of fear at the predatory grin stretching across your husband's face. His hands trailed up your sides again, sending delightful shivers through all of your nerve endings on his journey to your eyes. His fingers paused at the tips of your ears, the ribbon brushing against where your hair was fanned across the bedspread.

Ominis smoothed his thumb across your cheekbone, softening his smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper against your eyelashes. “Are you sure about this, my love?”

You smiled at his care for you, pressing a soft kiss to the closest bit of skin you could reach before answering him, your voice flooded with love. “Yes, my dear. I want you to do whatever you want to me. Make me feel like you do.”

He groaned at your words, taking your consent to wrap the ribbon around your head, tying it in a simple knot at the back. The last thing you saw were his starlight-filled eyes before your world was bathed in darkness.

You were incredibly aware of your level of undress when Ominis moved his body away from yours, opening up your skin to the chill of the room without his body heat. You squirmed against the rope slightly, testing its strength before trying to train your ears to hear your husband moving around the room. Everything was eerily quiet— not even the sound of the grandfather clock in the hallway could be heard beyond the closed door. For a moment you feared the blond left you in the room, leaving you tied up against the bed so he could work in peace. Your heart began to pound harder in your chest with nerves.

All fear quickly fled from your body at the feeling of his fingertips running up the skin of your stomach, drawing a long gasp from your chest. It felt like his hand was touching every nerve in your body, igniting your veins in sinful fire as he crept up and up towards your heaving breasts. He started off slow, just moving his fingers up and down different parts of your body with just the barest touch until you were begging for more. This type of teasing was torturous for you, only just aware of where he was but never knowing if he was going to give you what you wanted.

You whined in the back of your throat, body vibrating with need as he grazed against your chest for a fifth time. “Please, Ominis!”

You were sure your heart would give out when his other hand wrapped itself around your left mound, squeezing the skin between his fingers before taking the right nub between his teeth and nipping. Ominis chuckled at the whine that spilled from your throat, his voice reverberating through your sternum and sending a lovely heat to your center. He let the rest of his weight fall on top of you, relishing in you feeling every bit of skin he had uncovered in your small moment of silence. He was completely bare for you, his hardness pressing against your thigh and pulsating with a delicious heat. You could feel him everywhere. His fingers brushed against the very fabric of your being, pulling you apart by your strings. His breath curled around your lungs, stealing the air frantically inhaled through your squeezing throat. His mouth licked at your brain, sending pulses of pleasure down to your core. You were in utter bliss under his careful, loving hands.

He laughed again at how pliable you were under him, murmuring against your stiff peak. “Where do you feel me right now, pet?”

You sighed shakily as his voice shot through you like a bullet. “Everywhere. I feel you absolutely everywhere.”

The blond took your nipple between his teeth again, flicking it with his tongue until your reacting whimper pittered off into the air. “That’s how I feel whenever I’m around you.”

Ominis began to kiss down your chest, pausing to mouth hotly at your hip bones and leave open mouthed kisses on your naval. “Your mere presence shifts the air around me— changes the trajectory of time itself in my mind. The world slows when you touch me, my darling. My name falling from your lips feels like one thousand tiny suns kissing my cheeks in devotion.”

He mumbled your name against your lower stomach, hopelessly inflamed by how you shivered at the word.

Unable to resist his carnal desires any longer, he dives into your sweet tasting center, first licking a long stripe from base to tip before lapping at you like he was starved and you were his only source of sustenance. You keened loudly for him as stars filled every space behind your blinded eyes.

There he is, you thought. There’s his tongue wrapped around my soul, stealing all my life force one flick at a time.

He moaned at your scent, fully slotting himself between your legs and encasing his head between your thighs. It felt like his tongue was a lightning bolt against your sensitive skin, shocking your clit with every stroke, every tap, every suck. You completely surrendered to his whim, clamping your thighs against his ears, fully intent on keeping him right where he was for the rest of time. It had never felt this good before, never felt this encompassing.

Ominis pressed his face deeper into you, taking the button at the top of your most private parts and sucking it into his mouth. You nearly screamed, your words jumbled as they launched themselves into the air.

“Fuck! Oh God, Ominis!”

His strong hands pulled your legs away from his head, his mouth unlatching from you like a leech as he paused to catch his breath.

“Oh, is it a ‘God’ you want, precious?”

His voice had never sounded breathier— never sounded so completely sinful.

The blond laughed, a barking thing that sent a tingle to your toes. “I do not care if every single God and Goddess across all of the world, all of mythology was fighting over you— you are mine.”

He bit harshly at the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, indenting his teeth marks into you so everyone would know you were owned by him and him alone.

“But if you truly wish for something devout, something reverent, then let my hands be your chapel.” Ominis gently ran his fingernails along the skin of your waist, dragging them up and down until you were a shivering, wiggling mess. “And I will treat your screams, your whimpers, your pleas as my scripture.”

His unseeing eyes never left the direction of your heady, breathy pants as his middle finger slid deep inside of you, long and lithe and curling against the spot that made you believe religion was real. Moans of his name and swears that would make even the devil blush swam in the air around the pair of you, only being swallowed by the plush feather-down comforter under your writhing body. You plead with your husband for more, unsure what more entailed but all the more pressing your center against his awaiting mouth once again and grinding against his tongue. He quickly complied, pressing a second finger into your opening and thrusting in and out at a sped up pace. His lips latched back onto your needy clit and that was all it took for you to spill over into maddening nirvana.

Your hazy mind picked up on the feeling of your husband leaning up on his elbows, kissing his way back up your chest until he reached your gasping lips. He quickly stole them in a gentle but desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and it drove you even further into madness. His prickly, end of the day stubble rubbed against your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing up and down your shoulder and neck with urgency.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart. So, so perfect— just for me, so good just for me.” He was breathing even heavier than you against your pulse, hopelessly devoted to your pleasure, your happiness.

He kissed your pulse, his whispered voice filled with adoration.“Mon coeur.”

He kissed your nose this time. “Mon âme.”

Finally, he pressed delicate kisses to your eyelids, resting his forehead against yours. “Ma vie.”

My heart. My soul. My life.

Warmth filled your entire body, your heart squeezing around his words and committing this moment to memory. Never before had you felt so loved, so worshiped. It was iridescent, the way you could picture his love-struck smile glowing behind your eyes— completely and irrevocably arduous.

Still feeling his burning desire against your inner thigh, you rocked your hips against his, pleas beginning to spill from you once again, but this time with a need to please him.

“Please, Ominis. I love you so much. Take me. Use me. I’m yours, no one else's. I want to feel you inside of me.”

He bit your shoulder roughly, muffling his animalistic grunt before unlatching his jaws and leaning up on his knees. The blond spread your legs wider, lifting your hips slightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up with your entrance. You mewled at the feeling of his head rubbing against your opening, stretching you out slightly and giving you a taste for what was to come.

Ominis whimpered at the feeling of your soft heat against his cock, a little bit of his original domineering persona slipping away at how welcoming you felt for him. “I love you too, my dove.”

With no other words, the blond pressed his hips closer to yours, letting his length slide into your sweltering center bit by bit to not overwhelm you. You could feel every curve of his shaft, every vein along the underside without your sense of sight. Your touch was heightened to its full extent, and it was earth shattering how good this felt. You were simultaneously freezing and burning, living and dying. Your souls could have mingled together and entwined along your timelines with a burning pyre, thrusting you both into every lifetime possible to relive this moment over and over and it would never be enough for you. You both moaned in tandem when your hips became flushed once again, pelvis bones pressing into each other for a delectable friction.

Ominis paused to catch his breath, little tiny moans breaching his lips between each inhale and exhale. His fingers wrapped around your hips, grasping onto your natural handles there as he growled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear with your slightly heightened sense of hearing.

“I am going to make you feel so full, so pleasured, that by the time your climax sends you into oblivion the only word that will be able to grace your lips will be my name.”

With that, he pulled out of you until only his tip was still inside and slammed into you, his hips harshly knocking against yours and his slit kissing your cervix. You wailed into the night as he continued to pound into you, chasing his own pleasure while still being perceptive of yours. In and out he went, the large prominent vein at the base of his lovely cock rubbing against the ridges inside of you in the most heavenly way. Your sounds sang together like an otherworldly chorus, your tones rising and falling in harmony as they floated delicately up towards the ceiling. Ominis’ hands continued to dig into your skin, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips that would last for days. You didn’t care in the slightest— all you could feel was bliss. If you thought earlier was pleasurable, this was pure, unfiltered ecstasy. The knot in your stomach tightened with each thrust of your husband's hips, each time taking him to the hilt and sending blinding whiteness behind your useless eyes.

The blond’s hips stuttered as his orgasm fast approached, yours not far behind as he could tell by how tightly you were squeezing him. He surged forwards towards your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that was more teeth than anything else as he rocked the entire bed with his velocity. The headboard banged harshly against the wall as he swallowed your moans and screams, only the sound of his name breaching through the jumbled nonsense. Ominis nosed at your jaw, groaning next to your ear as his thrusts got sloppier and less rhythmic.

“Come for me, my love— my life.”

The instinctual, innate love he had for you was what ultimately did you in, his words ricocheting you into the strongest rapture you had felt in some time. Your husband followed soon after, your name conjoining with his as you both tumbled into the sweet hereafter.

Your breaths tangled together as you both came down from your high. Ominis was the first to break the spell, pulling out of you gently before getting up and procuring a towel from your adjoining bathroom. He cleaned you like one would dust a prized possession, carefully and with reverence. You were like a precious jewel that he had to protect, something he could admire for years, centuries, millennia to come. Next were the bonds on your arms, which he undid with deft fingers. Your arms dropped to the bed in a grand thump, all of your muscles giving up from how hard you were thrashing. Ominis lifted you off the bed, his hands on your shoulders as he slotted himself behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he finally undid the blindfold. Your eyes squinted at the sudden light of the room, fluttering closed for a moment longer as you relaxed back into your husband. The blond carefully took each of your wrists into his hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing away the minute bruising. You swooned, perfectly content to stay in this moment until the very end of time— until the world died in a grand ball of fire, or with a tiny poof.

Ominis kissed the side of your temple, rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat. “Was that everything you hoped for, my dear?”

You raised your hand up to his face, softly cradling his cheek in your palm. Pure affection spilled from you both in waves.

“Yes, my heart. You were absolutely perfect.”

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #masterlist #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis hogwarts legacy #ominis smut #ominis hl #ominis gaunt smut

1K notes · View notes

dailydamnation · 14 days

Text

Well, I said that if they kept giving X-ladies solo books, that have to get around to Illyana eventually, but I didn't dare believe in it.

A solo ongoing for our girl. This is a good day.

Generally, I'm not big on solo X-titles, teams just work best. I've always thought Illyana is one of the characters who it would work with, though. Part of that is bias, obviously, but I think that to justify a solo, you need a character with personal stories that are distinctly different from core X-Men/mutant stories. They surprised me by finding a solid take for Jean in making her go cosmic.

Illyana's magic and demons really set her up for a unique run, and it looks like we might be getting it:

The mystic mutant goes demon hunting in her own series! The X-Man Illyana Rasputina strikes out on her own with new allies and dark powers arrayed against her.

New allies? Leah Helranger when?

Having Ashley Allen return after her Blood Hunt oneshot is a big win. Illyana really felt like Illyana in that story, and played to her strengths.

Germán Peralta I've always liked, and I think his style could be a great fit for stories like these, too:

Throughout the series, Magik will also be forced to come to terms with her tragic history and learn to control her demonic Darkchylde persona. After years of suppression, Illyana’s Darkchylde form returns from the depths of her tormented soul to offer her more strength and power, but at what cost?

This is perfection--the struggle with her dark side that is fed by her trauma, while in the same breath Allen describes her as a character with a heart of gold... Trying to be good while fearing that she's bad is core Illyana.

Literally the only quibble I have with this announcement is Peralta saying he especially loves the Bachalo design, and that costume is my personal pet peeve and won't keep me from loving this book. (Is it wrong that I love it already? It's nice to have faith.)

I love the idea of the Darkchylde having stages, growing more monstrous as Illyana gets taken over by dark impulses. And those wings? Fire addition to the design.

As a bonus, here is Germán Peralta drawing Illyana years ago in Age of X-Man: Prisoner of X #2:

Now just to decide how I'm going to get this, since I don't have a pull list at my local comic shop anymore. Marvel Unlimited still runs months behind on physical releases, which is okay for most things, but...

#illyana rasputin #magik #ashley allen #germán peralta #from the ashes #illyana ongoing saving this entire x-era

85 notes · View notes

youngbounty · 11 days

Text

I think we can all agree that Damian has always canonly been a vegetarian. However, there seems to be this misconception that it automatically means he’s vegan. Before getting into the reason why this isn’t the case, let me explain the difference between a vegetarian and vegan.

Veganism is a type of vegetarian diet where you abstain yourself from consuming any or from animals. Vegetarian is a broad kind of diet where you avoid meat in general, but can make exceptions to dairy, eggs, fish or insects. There are different types of vegetarians with the most familiar type being Lacto-ovo-Vegetarian.

I could be mean and point out the foods he’s seen eating that could be a vegan or veggie variety. However, I will use evidence that confirms that the products he’s eating or drinking are NOT the vegan variety.

When Branden offers milk to the Kent’s, notice how he says, “I have my own cow.” He’s not saying he doesn’t drink milk. He clarifies he only gets milk from his own cow, Bat Cow.

Considering Bat Cow willingly gives her milk to strangers, this makes sense. Why wouldn’t Bat Cow give Damian her milk?

The next is this. Look what Damian specifically asks for: a glutton free veggie pizza. I decided to look up the ingredients to this kind of pizza and these are the ingredients. Keep in mind these are the ingredients to the pizza Damian specifically ASKS for that cater to his vegetarian diet. So, any ingredients that would NOT apply to the vegan diet do apply.

The only vegan part of the pizza that’s called for is the crust. Most of the ingredients calls for diary such as cream cheese and sour cream. Others call for yogurt, ranch and cheddar cheese. This is why pizzas with vegan friendly ingredients are called Vegan Pizzas and not just Veggie Pizza. Why Damian asked for the pizza to be glutton free could be due to possibly being self-conscious about his weight or not wanting his siblings to eat his entire pizza since he’s more restricted than him. Either way, Damian is certainly not ordering a vegan pizza.

Why is this important to Damian’s character to be a vegetarian and not a vegan? It all comes down to Bat Cow. His mortal obligation to became a vegetarian is much more personal than others that become vegans or some form of vegetarian. To understand this, we need to go back to the story that led to Damian’s change in diet.

The illegal slaughterhouse Damian ransacked with his father was an illegal one ran by the Leviathans. The Leviathans placed a target on Damian, being a bounty was set on him at the time. This is what led to the slaughterhouse. This same man, who targeted and almost killed Damian, was about to run off with Bat Cow when Batman and Robin stop him. From then, Damian decided to keep the cow, change his diet and call her Bat Cow.

Both Damian and Bat Cow were both being targeted to be killed when they first met. This is how Damian is able to reach out to Bat Cow. Damian is making this choice with the understanding that Bat Cow will see any human that consumes meat no differently than those that slaughtered her family. By changing his diet, Damian is becoming someone Bat Cow can trust won’t hurt her like in the slaughterhouse.

Understanding this, we can then understand why consuming milk, eggs or dairy doesn’t apply here. This picture is what Damian does not want to be seen as in Bat Cow’s eyes. Nowhere do we see milk, diary or eggs being eaten here. Therefore, eating diary and eggs do not apply to Damian’s diet. So long as those things are freely given and no lives are taken, Damian will not restrict himself from consuming milk, eggs or any eatable products from the animal itself.

Now, I don’t mind Damian being any type of vegetarian that eats/drinks diary from Bat Cow only and eats eggs from Jerry (if female) or Wiggles only. I only have a pet peeve over claiming Damian’s Vegan or a type of Vegetarian that restricts himself from anything his pets willingly give him. The reason is because by restricting Damian as Vegan, it restricts his relationship with Bat Cow, who willingly gives her milk to those who need it. By providing milk for Damian, she’s helping and providing for the one who saved her and gave her a better life.

Most Vegans live in the city where they depend on food from the grocery store. Veganism started around the 20th century when factories and grocery stores began growing and monopolizing their products. However, Vegetarianism has been around for thousands of years. At the time, everyone raised their own livestock. If anyone became a Vegetarian for religious or moral obligations, there was no point in abstaining diary or eggs, being they milked their own milk and gathered their own eggs or else their neighbor’s. There was no concern over how the cows, goats, chickens, quail or turkeys were treated because the Vegetarian was caring and were responsible for their own animals.

If Damian is raising Bat Cow, he has no reason to avoid milk. Same with getting eggs. If Damian gets his eggs from Jerry or the Kent farm, those eggs are not provided through inhuman ways. He might be paranoid enough to only eat foods with dairy ingredients he provides from Bat Cow, but I can’t see Damian completely restricting himself from anything that could be provided to him more humanely. If we truly believe Damian restricts himself to Veganism, aren’t we claiming he can’t get his own milk, cheese, yogurt, etc. from his own cow or eggs from his turkey more humanely? I think Damian would be insulted by us and say…

#dcu #dc #dc comics #dc universe #batman #robin #damian wayne #bat cow #jerry the turkey #wiggles the dragon

78 notes · View notes

hollowed-theory-hall · 19 days

Note

Could you please go more on Harry and Sirius and their relationship? I love them so much.

Honestly, yes. Like I think I already wrote most of what I think about them, (here, here, here, and here) but I love their dynamic so much and one of my pet peeves in fic is when Sirius is villainized for no reason and treated as a bad influence in Harry's life.

Like, Harry's life is lacking in competent adults he trusts, and I wanna talk about how much Harry trusts Sirius since I haven't covered that yet, I think.

Dumbledore is extremely competent, but Harry doesn't trust him. Snape is also extremely competent, but Harry would rather deal with whatever himself than tell Snape about it (except in life-and-death situations like at the end of OotP).

Then you have characters like Hagrid, who Harry trusts, and is definitely good intentioned, but not very competent. Molly and Arthur kinda fall into this category for the majority of the books.

Remus in book 3 came close. He's competent, and Harry likes him, but that trust and seeking of a relationship is one-sided. It's always Harry seeking Remus out, Remus doesn't want to be involved in Harry's life and keeps running away like Remus does. (There's a reason Harry keeps calling him "Lupin" in his head)

Then you have Barty/Fake Moody who is competent and Harry trusts and grows close to only to later be revealed to be a Death Eater during book 4.

Basically, Harry has a shitty track record with mentor figures in his life. Then comes Sirius, who loves him, wants to have a relationship with him, who is intelligent and competent (Especially during GoF), and who Harry feels he can trust.

Throughout GoF and OotP, whenever Harry has a problem, be it strange dreams from Voldemort, his scar hurting, the Triwizard Tournament, him just having a bad day, Umbridge, anything, the first person he goes to (or wants to go to), even before Ron and Hermione — is Sirius. And that is so important to me.

Like, growing up the way he grew up, Harry isn't the most trusting of kids. He often goes and acts heroic because he doesn't trust adults to do what needs to be done and so he feels like it's his responsibility. Sirius was the only adult in the books and when he told Harry: "Stay away from it and let me check out what I can find out first", Harry listened. In GoF Sirius tells Harry not to leave school, and to watch out for Karkaroff, and Harry does so. He actually believes Sirius has his best interests and he lets him be a responsible adult in his life.

At least, more than he lets anyone else.

I did mention it in the past, but Harry feels just as responsible for Sirius as Sirius feels for Harry. Harry never got to be a child, so he doesn't exactly act like one.

At the beginning of GoF he tries to lie to Sirius that his scar doesn't actually hurt so Sirius would stay safe and away from Britain. Sirius doesn't buy it and comes anyway because Harry's safety is always Sirius' number 1 priority.

Even when his mental/emotional state deteriorates in OotP, he is mostly talking about endangering himself, not Harry.

And with this behavior, it's easy to see why Harry comes to trust Sirius so fast. Sirius is a connection to Harry's parents (something Harry's always looking for), he says he loves Harry and would do a lot for him (including escaping Azkaban by swimming as a dog across the North Sea), and it's clear he's prioritizing Harry in a way no one else has before.

Is Sirius' fixation on Harry's well-being necessarily healthy? Not exactly, I mean, there is a reason in all the airplane safety instructions they tell you to put on your own oxygen mask before you help someone else, and Sirius would definitely put the mask on Harry first. But given both their circumstances, this is honestly what they both need to feel a semblance of family.

Like, their connection, for both of them, is a kind of lifeline.

Harry needs to be the most important person to someone after he has been treated like nothing for years. And Sirius, I think, needs to care for someone else, to feel he is helping and doing something good. If he's helping Harry, he feels his own life has a purpose.

It's so very visible with Harry just how much of a lifeline Sirius became to him after such a short time. Like, I reread books 5 and 6 recently, and at the end of OotP, after Sirius dies, there is a shift in Harry. He stops caring as much.

What I mean is, there is a reason Harry has his "there's no reason to call me sir, Professor" moment in HBP. After Sirius dies, Harry loses his last bits of self-preservation. At the end of OotP he starts sassing Snape:

Malfoy’s hand flew toward his wand, but Harry was too quick for him. He had drawn his own wand before Malfoy’s fingers had even entered the pocket of his robes. “Potter!” The voice rang across the entrance hall; Snape had emerged from the staircase leading down to his office, and at the sight of him Harry felt a great rush of hatred beyond anything he felt toward Malfoy. . . . Whatever Dumbledore said, he would never forgive Snape . . . never . . . “What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.

(OotP, 851)

Snape is shocked, he doesn't even know what to say to that because Harry doesn't speak to him like that before. Before, even during the Occlumancy lessons, Harry is mostly polite because he feels he has to be. After Sirius dies, there's none of that. He's sassier, snappier, and angrier, and he carries that with him through HBP and DH. Said anger isn't just towards Snape. He snaps at Ron and Hermione throughout DH even without the Horcrux, and he lifts up Mundungus by the throat in HBP. I think a lot of his focus on Malfoy is because of how lost he feels throughout HBP. He goes out at Remus with his worst in DH when he wants to join them in the Horcrux hunt. I mean, Remus needed someone to talk sense into him, but Harry didn't need to be that mean.

What I'm saying is that when Sirius died, one of Harry's major lifelines was cut and he's in a weird sort of lashing out throughout HBP and DH. Yes, he knew Sirius for a very short time, but he was the person Harry trusted most in his life — and then he was gone.

It's not to say he never got angry at Sirius, Harry did, and that's natural and healthy, honestly. But it doesn't change the fact that in GoF and OotP when Harry needs to rant, needs someone to talk to, wants advice, he first goes to Sirius, then to everyone else.

I just feel so much about these two.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anonymous #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #sirius black #harry james potter #good godfather sirius black

102 notes · View notes