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starlight-library · 2 months

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IOU | OP81

pairing: ghostface!oscar x ghostface!reader

summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…

warnings: [DARK THEMES USED & SMUT] slightly descriptive murder, mention of stalking stalking, mention of blood, breath play, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping, dom!oscar, sub!reader, degradation, hair pulling (if you squint??), face fucking, deep throating

a/n: once again, dark themes used! please read the warnings above!!! i answered a asked on my main here and decided to make a oneshot of it (yes i quote J's ask cause it was too good). tbh didn't even plan for a plot but here we are! I know my answer and this are vastly different...i don't wanna talk about it. also ghostface!oscar series belongs to @piastrification so homie this one is for YOU!! Also happy belated Valentines day omg. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏽

word count: 4.5K

This week has started out to be one of the worst weeks you’ve had in a very long time. Monday started off with your car breaking down on the way to campus and you completely missed your first class. When you got to campus an irritated Oscar was waiting asking why the hell you didn’t call him. “Even though I was in class, I would’ve left and gotten you,” he told you. You weren’t in the mood to argue so you just apologized and told him you’d call him next time which seemed to ease his irritation slightly. Seemed he also had a pretty shitty Monday.

Tuesday brought your shitty manager everyone hates at your job to end a relatively quiet day. It was the typical bullshit but still didn’t mean you had to enjoy it. You spent the whole drive home on the phone with Oscar screaming your head off about all the things your manager had done. The micro-managing of your work, the snarky remarks, the extra work so he can just fuck off in the back, god you could not stand this manager at all. Oscar listened like he always did. “You don’t deserve that,” you could hear the frown in his voice, “honestly he shouldn’t even be a manager. I could take care of him for you.” You laughed. You thanked Oscar for the offer but you had already decided that your manager would be your next victim. It would be tricky considering everyone in the store knew how much you two despised each other but it would get done.

You ended up with a stomach bug on Wednesday. You woke up around four in the morning with a jump and just made it to the bathroom before you got sick. You stayed in there for a good hour before there was nothing left in your system and you dragged yourself back to bed. You somehow coherently managed to message your professors you’d be missing class due to illness and texted Oscar that you’d be out sick today before promptly falling asleep. You woke to a knock on your front door and dragged yourself out of bed. You made a face seeing Oscar standing outside with a bag. “What are you doing?” You ask.

“Taking care of you. Can I come in?”

“What if you catch it? What about classes?”

You watch Oscar simply pull a KN95 mask out of his pocket. You narrowed your eyes as he slipped it on. You didn’t need to see his face to see the cheeky smile he was giving. His eyes twinkled slightly with humor as he gently turned you around and guided you back inside your place as he listed the things he brought over and how he can afford missing one day to make sure you eat and rest, a habit you tend to struggle with. He really was a good best friend.

Thursday is really when you hit your limit. Arriving on campus you and Oscar head to class though neither of you really paid attention. You two spent most of the time texting each other even though you guys were sitting right next to each other. When class ended the two of you headed to the closest campus cafeteria before parting ways. You got on the line to grab the food while Oscar secured you two seats since it was roughly lunch time and everyone would be out and about.

Carrying the two to-go containers after paying you make your way to the back left corner. It’s usually where you and Oscar sat and enjoyed just people watching and gossiping about other students but you slowed your walking. Oscar was looking up at someone. Fucking Brittany. One of the sororities girls. Sorority president actually. Brittany was in a nice blouse, a skirt, some fucking heeled boots. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she was leaning forward slightly while smiling wide at Oscar.

Jealousy hit you like a truck. You grip the to-go containers tighter while standing frozen in your spot watching them. You wanted to march over and tell her to fuck off. Grab your stupid bun and slam her head into the table until she’s bleeding out. Or maybe take the plastic forks that rested on top of the to-go containers and gauge her eyes out for having the audacity to even look at Oscar. Alas, you refrained from it all. Instead you just tilted your chin up and made your way over with a tight smile. “I’m back!” You announce to Oscar. The both turn to face you and Oscar visibly relaxes slightly but Brittany is giving you a once over clearly unimpressed. You turn and blink, feigning surprise. “Oh! Brittany. Hi,” you keep your tone light and friendly, “what brings you here?”

“Oh, I was just talking to Oscar,” Brittany smiles, “we’re partners for our history project.” You could give two shits less what it was as you spy Brittany’s hand moving to Oscar’s upper arm and resting there with ease. Something so subtle but could come off as flirty and you wanted to cut her hand off. How dare she think she can touch Oscar like that? “…and wanted to see if he wanted to come to the frat party Saturday night,” she concludes.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet of you. Can he bring a plus one?” You ask putting the containers down, sliding one over to Oscar.

“If he wants…” Brittany glances at Oscar with a smile then back at you, “but we need to know to make sure they’re on the list. Even then…it depends on the mood if everyone gets in.”

“Then it seems kinda stupid for a list, don’t you think so?” Oscar asks finally. Brittany laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. You realize now that she’s flirting with Oscar. Well. This just won’t do. Not like you care anyway. Oscar is your best friend. Sure you love him but it’s platonic -or so you tell yourself- so it shouldn’t bother you but it does. It does bother you because Brittany was the queen heartbreaker. She used guys until she got bored. Until they got attached and couldn’t offer anything else after giving her everything. You were not about to have Oscar be a pawn in her fucking game. You had missed the remark Brittany gave as you sat down, your heart pounding in your ears.

“…let me know!” Brittany calls out as she’s already walking away.

“Ugh. As if,” Oscar murmurs and turns his attention to you. “Hey,” he starts softly. Bring your gaze to him and you blink, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage a smile, “I’m fine. Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” You ask to divert the subject as now you might have something fun to do this weekend.

* * *

Personally, you never understood the hype of sororities and managed to curb every single one who tried to recruit you. It was just a bunch of girls with money and tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a cult but it most certainly was if you got in. Moving into the house, what they expected you to wear, how to act in public, who can and cannot date, for fuck sakes they monitored your social media post and if they didn’t approve of something you posted they would either make you take it down or probably kick you out. You much preferred your freedom over dealing with that bullshit.

Luck had shined down on you when you heard some of the girls mention Brittany couldn’t go to the bar tonight because she was under the weather and just ‘had to get better for tomorrow in case her special guest came’. It was a miracle that you didn’t march over here and slaughter Brittany right then and there but you bide your time. You had to be careful.

Now, slipping the mask on, you give it a five minutes after everyone else leaves before slipping through the back door. Standing quietly, you listen to the water running and slowly making your way through the house. Climbing the stairs you follow the noise until you’re outside the bathroom. You hear Brittany singing and you silently open the door. Steam hits your face and it takes everything not to cough from the sudden heat. Stepping in you watch Brittany’s silhouette run her fingers through her hair. Gripping the hilt of your knife, you inch forward. When Brittany turns you stab the knife through the shower curtain and straight in her heart. Twisting, you step forward until Brittany is pinned against the wall as she weakly has a hold of your wrist trying to pull the knife out her screams being drowned out by the shower and her choking on her own blood. You pull out before stabbing again to ensure that there was no chance she would be able to survive. When her attempts falter, you pull the knife out. Cleaning the knife off, you slip out of the house the way you came smirking knowing the rest of them wouldn’t have hot water for a long time.

Carefully you pack everything into your backpack you left in the woods by the house before securely zipping it. Slinging a strap over your shoulder, you start to head back to your apartment. You emerge from the treeline right into an alleyway and into town which is bustling with college kids. Perks of living in a college town. You just turn left and make your way back to your apartment which is a bit further uptown and you notice as the people start to thin out.

You feel eyes burning into the back of your skull. Turning your head over your shoulder, you stop. At the end of the block you see a figure in all black and an identical mask standing there. Normal people would do anything but stare. Call out to the figure, turn away and walk, call the police, something except just stand there silently and face off with this killer. Copycat killer that is. You suppose you’d have fans, sick and twisted probably, but you didn’t expect you’d end up creating a copycat killer. Not that you minded, actually the gesture touched you actually. People had been too stupid to realize it was a copycat but not you.

After all, their first kill happened to be one of your best friends you recently dropped.

You can’t even remember why but you arrived to apologize and found her body on the floor, throat cut. It was a bit messy. The cut wasn’t as clean as you would’ve expected and there was blood everywhere. Even on the poor bitch’s hands. Then you realize that there’s a few stab wounds. Seemed she put up a fight before whoever did it got the kill. Then someone clears their throat and you raise your gaze.

There you saw him.

An identical ghostface mask, black long sleeve shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Personally you preferred boots but to each their own. As much as some little sane part in your head told you to stop judging this person’s choice in shoes and run, you stood there staring because god he was so *distracting*. Honestly, the tight fit long sleeve should be illegal for killers to wear. It clung to him defining each curve of his muscle and you couldn’t help but get turned on because well–they’re a well fit masked killer.

“Did you do this?”

The killer nodded. Silence fell upon the two of you before you finally asked, “why?”

“...Why?” The voice asked. A shiver ran down your spine hearing the low murmur. A voice modulator just like you. Smart and well fit? Shit, “that’s all you can ask? Why? Aren’t you supposed to be running and screaming?”

“Well I find that a bit stupid,” you retort, “you’re right here. Masked or not, you're taller. You have length compared to my short legs. I might have you in agility and you’re a bit messy with your killing. Shaky in the hands.” You tilt your head to the masked figure with a small smirk. You watch the figure tighten his grip on the hilt of the knife before he’s in front of you in about four steps. You gasp as your head is yanked back by your hair, knife against your throat.

“Are you asking to be killed right now?”

“I mean you gonna fuck me before you kill me?”

Ghostface reels their head back slightly. Stupidly, they loosen their grip from the shock. Taking your chance, you grab the first with the knife and twist it away from you. They shout out in pain as you get your hair free and release their wrist before kicking the figure harshly in the stomach. You step on the figure’s chest a bit harshly. Smirking down at him, “expect the unexpected sweetheart. But you never answered me. Why?”

You can hear something faintly. You cannot believe this guy is mumbling. Leaning down slightly, you turn your ear, “I can’t hear you,” you tease.

“I did it for you.”

Now you’re stunned. You lean back slightly, hand over your heart. You don’t dare move though. You expect it to be some sick joke but the laughter never came. You bite your bottom lip having half the mind to suck him off right then and there. You stay strong though. Instead, you move to stand over the figure and bend down and hook a finger under his mask. His hand flies to your wrist and you laugh.

“I’m not gonna take your mask off,” you explain, “Trust me. Right now I am getting extremely horny and I don’t think I can handle you being ugly under the mask. Would just completely kill the mood.” You laugh hearing the figure let out an offended noise, “but aren’t you sweet,” you tilt your finger up and the figure follows, lifting his chin, “don’t be a stranger, yeah? Now, you should get off so I can feign the heartbroken emotional ex- best friend.”

Ghostface is in front of you now. He’s got your chin between his thumb and finger staring down at you and you blink as you come out of your memory. He’s close and you can hear his soft breathing which forces your own breath to hitch. You curl and uncurl your fingers and you hear a small huff behind the mask accompanied by a smirk you assume. “My,” he murmurs softly, “what do we have here. You shouldn’t be walking alone at night like this little one. You never know what lurks in the dark.”

You take a deep breath to keep your voice even. Pressing your thighs together you try so hard to stop the heat that’s starting to spread through your body. You should not be getting this turned on but how could you not? You had a copycat killer who kept killing people that you had issues with somehow and someway. “I–” You start, biting your bottom lip trying to find the words but you’re cut off with a chuckle.

“You’re so worked up for me. I can see it in the clench of your legs, the flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils dilate and the way you bite your lip for me. You don’t even know who I am. I could be a total stranger, who followed you home one night and just never stopped, but I could also be your best friend, that you’ve known for years, who you think you know like the back of your hand. You don’t even know. But I know one thing for certain though- I’m sure your panties, if you’re even fucking wearing any, are already soaked.”

You hate the fact he’s right. Your breathing slightly heavy as your eyes widen as you listen. Shifting, you clench your thighs even tighter as one of your hands slips between your thighs slightly. You can’t see his eyes but you can feel his stare bruning into yours and you actually look away. This hasn’t happened before.

“Look. At. Me.”

Your eyes snap back and your mouth hangs open slightly. You can feel how wet you are every time you shift and by god do you need something here. “What do you want, love?”

“I would very much like to take you up on that offer and suck you off,” you nod your head in the direction of the alleyway.

“Excited, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been at this for months of fucking course I’m excited.”

He grips your jaw tightly, “I’d watch that tone if I were you. I can happily just walk away and leave you here alone.” Your eyes travel downwards and spy his half hard bulge against his jeans and then back up, “I can handle myself and sleep much more satisfied than you probably would with your fingers,” leaning close to your ear, “but I’d be a fool to leave you so desperate without giving you a taste.” Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head but he lets go of your jaw and spins you around, smacking your ass. You startled with a yelp before quickly scurrying to the alleyway.

Any sane person, seeing the alleyway lead to the woods, probably would have taken the chance to run but not you. You were so desperate to finally fuck this copy cat that you spun around as he rounded the corner. You gasped as your back slams against the brick wall feeling pain through your shoulder for only a brief moment as your hands fly to Ghostface’s wrist as he holds you there by your throat. Oddly enough your calm even though he could easily choke you as your breathing becomes a bit more jaded. Lifting his mask slightly you stare at the slightly chapped but pink lips as you drop your bag. They look so familiar, why?

You can’t really think longer on it as he moves his hand up to your jaw tightly and his lips are on your neck as you gasp for air. He wedges his knee between your legs and immediately you roll your hips whining loudly. You let your eyes drift close as the figure litters your neck in kisses along with marks. You let the figure tilt your head so he can litter the otherside in matching marks. Your nails dig into his wrist earning a hiss against your neck. When he pulls back your eyes stare at his lips and you’re so tempted for a taste. You find yourself starting to lean in before he’s pushing you onto your knees. Blinking, you're now eye level with his obvious bulge and glance up at him fixing his mask.

Dropping your gaze, your hands get straight to work. Undoing his jeans you pull the zipper down before pulling his pants down just enough. You hold your breath seeing the outline of his cock because oh it looks so much bigger than you’ve had which…was very few. There was only one way to really find the truth. You let your fingers dance across the waistband of his boxers before you tug, cock basically popping free. You lean back with wide eyes because it is bigger than you’ve had. It’s actually the biggest you’ve ever had. The length was maybe just an inch or two over average which was impressive enough but it was the girth that really made your mouth water and the precum leaking out just makes you drool.

Gently wrapping a hand around his cock, the figure’s breath hitches as he bucks his hip. You give a few experimental tugs not really for a reaction but more so to get a feel of him in your hand. Big. Girthy. Heavy. God, how pent up was he? You feel fingers through your head as you continue to cautiously jerk him off before licking the tip. The reaction pulled out of the figure was a low satisfied groan and it encourages you to take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip before sucking, alternating between the two before you finally you’re ready.

If you had known how big he was you would’ve been a bit more…prepared. You weren’t naive enough to think you could take all of him down your throat. God no. Maybe with some training and patience later if the figure would let you but you didn’t have either of those things or really time on your side. Still, you had to make sure to keep the figures interested in you- even if he’s killed for you already. Better safe than sorry, right?

Hollowing your cheeks out and flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, you start to suck him off. Bobbing your head you can’t help but feel a bit of a rush go to your head as the figure above lets out another loud ground. You glance up to see the figure’s neck as his head is tilted back. You're absolutely drenched watching him and find yourself slipping a hand into your own pants and moan around him as you rub your clit. That catches his attention as his head snaps down to look at you.

“Naughty girl. You’re so turned on from sucking me off that you have to touch yourself?” It earns a strangled whine, “such a pathetic slut.”

You can’t help but moan at that. “Wow. You are so fucking pathetic it’s adorable.” The figure coos and grips your hair to stop you. Shifting, he puts one foot in front of you and smirks, “here why don’t you just hump my leg while you’re at it.” He taunts.

Funny enough you’ll take him up on that. The moment he frees your head you go back to bobbing your head on his cock humming in delight as you hug his leg, settling on his foot and grind your hips down. If your lips weren’t so occupied at the moment you would smirk at the shocked reaction you pull from the figure but you’re lost in your own world. The stretch of your jaw combined with the already dull ache lulls you into a peaceful trance. You completely ignore the spit that’s starting to wet your chin.

You feel the figure’s other hand gently grab your jaw trapping you in place suddenly. You stared up with doe eyes as the figure fucked your face before you felt him hit the back of your throat. You gagged and your hands flew to his thighs for some stability as he repeated the action. “So fucking good. Taking my cock,” the figure grunts out and tears prick your eyes when he stops moving and you gag because he’s so far down your throat. He pulls off just enough for you to gasp and get some air before he’s back in your mouth and fucking your face again. You’re prepared for it this time as you relax your throat and gag less.

Having lulled yourself into such a peaceful you nearly let your eyes slip close. Sliding your hands down, you wrap your arms around Ghostface’s leg as you continue to fuck yourself against his foot while he fucked your mouth. You ended up tuning everything else out except him and listening to him ramble was going to get you off alone. ‘Such a gorgeous cock drunk whore’, ‘you look so pathetic humping my leg while you let me fuck your mouth it should be illegal’, and ‘you’d look so beautiful being my personal cock drunk slut’. It’s the one you made out between all the groans and moans and curses. You felt his tug at your hair as a warning and you finally opened your eyes.

“Fuck–shit–I’m gonna–” He groaned but doesn’t stop his thrusting. He does the opposite as he picks the pace up. That’s all the encouragement you needed. You find your hips onto his foot even harder and faster as you. You feel the familiar coil in your abdomen and you’re trying so hard to reach it. He snaps his hips forward and forces himself down your throat. Your eyes go wide and you gag, choking on his cock as he spills into your throat. You hit his thighs and try to focus on breathing through your nose but even still the rough face fucking before forced deep throating was enough to send you over the edge. You groan and whine as you continue to hump his foot before he pulls you off his cock and slips his foot out from under you.

Sitting there, you gasp for air as your chest heaves. You look up at Ghostface and lick your lips slowly as you debate if you wanna turn over and let him fuck you right now. He would. For sure…probably and he taste good to. But that would be giving too much. You were the original after all. Finding your footing, you stand up and slide your pants down. There’s a choked sound from Ghostface and you glance over at the figure looking away.

“Seriously?” You raise a brow and giggle, “you just fucked my face but you get all bashful about seeing me in my panties.”

“I–well. I mean. No–” This one sucked at lying. Rolling your eyes, you look away as you take your pants off before sliding your panties off. “What are…” Ghostface’s voice trails off as you stuff your soiled panties into his front jeans pocket. “Consider it an IOU,” you say as you hurriedly put your pants back on. You’re grabbing your bag before the figure gets a chance, “this was fun but I have to run. My friend is coming over for a movie night and he’ll be pissed if I’m not there,” you sigh dreamily at the end of the alleyway, “he’s so caring like that. Anyway, bye!” You say before you’re slinging your back over as you take off. You get home and quickly change into some pajama panties (with new panties) and a sweatshirt before finding yourself settled on the couch while flipping through for a movie.

Hearing keys jingle you look up, you smile at your best friend walking in. You two are so close that he has his own copy. Oscar’s in a baggy grey hoodie with some black jeans on as he takes his shoes off before making his way to the back of the couch. He smiles slightly at you and offers dinner but you decline. As he turns for the kitchen, you spy something hanging out of Oscar’s pocket. It looks like a fabric of some sorts. Watching him in the kitchen, you decide to get some water. Quietly getting off the couch you stand in the doorway. Oscar continues to cook himself dinner and you wait until he’s focused on whatever is in the pan to strike. Passing behind him, your eyes drop down and your breathing stops. Black lacy panties with red roses on them. You look up at Oscar who’s glancing at you over his shoulder. His gaze follows yours and he smirks.

“Can I cash that IOU now, darling?”

#starlight library presents;#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81 imagine #oscar piastri x reader smut #f1 reader #f1 smut #f1 imagine #ghostface!oscar #ghostface!oscar smut #starlight library fiction #contains dark themes #mentions of murder #mentions of blood #smutty #bit toxic??#for the love of god read the warning

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anto-pops · 3 months

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Heart of Vipers - Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader

Summary: After an ill-fated confrontation with Ominis' family, you come to learn that they want you for themselves. More specifically, they want your abilities for themselves. Ominis is less than pleased with the revelation and returns home with the intention of proving that the only person you belong to is him.

Alternatively summarized as Dominis turning into a possessive alpha male in the wake of his family's sudden interest in you.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, minor depictions of violence, explicit sexual content, rough/possessive sex à la Dominis

Descriptions of Marvolo and Aleister Gaunt heavily credited to legacyshenanigans

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (as always with more eclectic tags)

This was a bad idea. Truly one of the worst ones you had come up with in recent times– which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the stupid shit you’d gotten yourself into since starting at Hogwarts. But this was a decision born of desperation, and one that you adamantly refused to go back on.

Not that you could, realistically. You were already here.

The Gaunt Estate was massive. It was an imposing structure, shrouded in a perpetual darkness that seemed to kill off even the tiniest slivers of light, and you’d noted the distinctly foul scent of dark magic that encased the mansion from roughly a mile away. There were no Floo Flames to utilize for travel, so you’d been forced to apparate to Great Hangleton and walk the remaining six miles to reach your destination. This was your first time setting foot anywhere near Ominis’ childhood home, and the threat of splinching yourself by apparating to an unfamiliar location was a very legitimate concern.

You almost wished you’d taken the gamble, if only to spare yourself the harrowing journey on foot.

Ominis had to already be inside the manor, having left long before you decided you would follow him to essentially eavesdrop on his meeting with his family. You had never seen him so agitated in the hours leading up to his departure, and it was entirely due to the letter he’d received from his father. What it had said, you didn’t know, but you knew Ominis well enough to figure out that it wasn’t anything good. His entire demeanor had changed upon reading the apparent summons, but he wouldn’t tell you a lick of what it was about. He’d promised to return home as soon as he was able and left without so much as a goodbye kiss.

The memory only reinforced the fact that this was a really bad idea. What the hell were you thinking?

Now that you were actually here, you had no clue how to go about your poorly thought out plan. Going inside had always been the goal, but now that you were face to face with the blood-chilling building, you found yourself hesitating. Something told you that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in. You didn’t even know where Ominis could be, especially if the interior was as gargantuan as the exterior. Getting lost– or Merlin forbid, caught and tortured– seemed like the most plausible outcome.

It was as the saying went; curiosity killed the cat. You seriously hoped you wouldn’t end up dead as a result of your inquisitiveness.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, you started down the gravel path towards the arched double doors with your wand in hand. Your anxiety was like a physical entity hiding within your chest, but you smothered it beneath the overwhelming desire to ensure that Ominis was okay. While you knew he could handle himself, his family’s reputation preceded them, and you’d feared the worst earlier when you had borne witness to his expression shifting into something far more sinister than you were accustomed to.

You cast a disillusionment charm for extra measure before giving the handle a testing twist, relieved to find that the door was unlocked. It wouldn’t surprise you if there were other safeguards in place that you were unaware of, but pressing on despite that unknown possibility was a risk you were willing to take. You opened the door a crack– just enough for you to squeeze through before quickly shutting it behind you– and you were instantly encased in suffocating darkness.

The windows that lined the walls were evidently just for show.

It smelled distinctly old inside, as though there had never been a time when the mansion wasn’t inhabited. The wooden columns that lined the entryway were cracked and worn, stretching all the way towards the vaulted ceilings before disappearing into the inky shadows high above. There was a striking amount of antique looking decor that lined the walls; from suits of armor, to ornate vases perched atop mahogany tables. Straight across from the front door was a giant portrait of what could only be the Gaunt family.

Ominis was nowhere to be found in it.

The sound of distant, unintelligible voices echoed throughout the vast foyer from somewhere deeper in the house, drawing your attention and making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your eyes scanned the room once more before you were furtively moving further into the room in the direction of the noise.

Following the sound of the voices brought you to a giant oak doorway– a mere fraction of the size of the main entrance, but still obscenely large. From within you could hear a man you didn’t recognize, his throaty timbre one that seemed to command attention, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that danced down your spine. Nothing about his tone sounded pleasant.

“It’s been put off long enough,” you heard the man say as you sidled up directly against the door, careful not to lean on it too much and risk shoving it open. “We entertained your rebelliousness while you were at school, but Apollonia has anticipated this union for years now. It will happen. Whether you’re a willing participant, however, is up to you.”

“You already know my stance on the matter.” Ominis. “I’d sooner dig my own grave before I let you marry me off to that deplorable woman. She’s psychotic–”

“A non-issue,” interjected the older voice.

“Perhaps it’s irrelevant to you, but not to me,” Ominis snapped. You hardly recognized the threatening lilt in his voice; he sounded thoroughly fed up with the discussion, and you briefly wondered how long he’d been going at it with the unknown man. “She’s utterly wicked. Moreover she’s family. Have you forgotten my opposition to these incestuous relations you continue to shove down my throat?”

At this point, you were almost positive the deeper voice belonged to Ominis’ father. You knew next to nothing about the man, other than the fact that Ominis loathed him with his entire being. Before you could delve further into your thoughts, a distinctly feminine voice filtered through the thin slit in the doorway, sounding colder than ice.

“Aleister, give it a rest. If he wants to be dragged to the altar instead of walking down it, then so be it.”

Ominis’ laugh was crass and devoid of any genuine humor, and you could practically hear the sneer in his rebuttal. “Bold of you to assume I’ll let myself be dragged anywhere. Try it and see what happens.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this,” the woman continued as though he hadn’t even spoken. “You never used to fight us to this extent– you’ve always known what was expected of you as a Gaunt. Does that girl from Hogwarts have anything to do with this?”

Your entire body went rigid at the mention of yourself, and a tense silence descended over the room. It was suddenly so quiet that you were certain you could hear a pin drop– but in this case the lack of sound allowed you to pick up on something shifting across the floorboards closer to you. You had barely glanced over your shoulder before you were jumping away from the door with your heart hammering in your chest.

The biggest snake you’d ever seen in your life was slithering across the floor, its iridescent scales somehow reflecting the nonexistent light within the hallway. Your eyes went wider than saucers as you stepped away as much as you could, silently backing yourself into the tiny alcove beside the doorway in a bid to remain undetected– because if there was one thing the wizarding world had taught you, it was that beasts of any kind were far more intelligent than they were given credit for. The snake’s long, forked tongue flicked out incessantly as it made its way towards the doors, but it stopped short of the entryway to pivot its massive head in your direction.

It was looking right at you.

Fuck.

Your body tensed in anticipation of the worst; maybe it was venomous and you’d die quickly, or maybe it was more inclined to strangle the life out of you before depositing your corpse in front of Ominis and his parents. The thought made your stomach churn, and your eyes flicked down to confirm that yes– the disillusionment charm was still working– but that didn’t seem to matter where the reptile was concerned, and you mentally chided yourself for ever having let your curiosity get the better of you.

The conversation on the other side of the door continued as your staring contest with the snake pressed on. “That girl is none of your concern. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll refrain from speaking to me about her.”

“Ominis,” Aleister admonished with a rough voice. “Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way. Such hostility for some witch we know nothing about– perhaps it’s time to rid you of her influence once and for all. She’s proving to be a greater distraction than I had anticipated.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the snake’s, but your blood ran cold.

“Over my dead body. If you so much as look at her–”

“That can be arranged. No son of mine will be consorting with some harlot of unknown blood purity. You’d be better off in the grave–”

“Aleister!” Ominis’ mother yelled, silencing the back and forth bickering instantaneously, and you found the willpower to shift your feet sideways so you could better make a break for the front door.

There was another flick of the creature’s tongue as it blatantly scented your presence, but it made no move to inch closer to you. While you were grateful to still be breathing, you were also deeply, irrevocably afraid, and you came to the resolute decision that it was time to get the hell out of there.

You moved out of the alcove slowly while maintaining what you deemed to be a safe enough distance from the snake, and all the while its thin, slitted pupils followed your movements. The blasted thing had an awareness to it that sent shivers down your spine, overwhelming you with the urge to run and get away, but vigilance was key. It wasn’t poised to strike, but that just made you even more nervous.

Why wasn’t it attacking you?

You adamantly refused to turn your back on the reptile, so you kept your front to it as you skirted the edge of the wall in the direction of the entrance. The discussion between Ominis and his parents was muffled now– their voices distinctly lower after his mother had cut off their argument with her biting tone– but you no longer cared to listen in. You craved safety, and nothing about the Gaunt household offered that.

As you came upon the final stretch of the hallway, the snake flicked out its tongue once more before it was turning around to begin slithering towards you, and the remnants of your bravery evaporated. Fear overtook you, and the disillusionment charm that had shrouded you in transparency fell away as you pivoted and bolted around the corner. A chill-inducing hiss echoed from down the corridor– the first real sound you’d heard the animal make– and it only served to propel you towards the exit even faster.

The gargantuan double-doors swam into view, and just as you were reaching out to curl your fingers around the handle, a strong arm was coiling around your waist and hauling you backwards with enough force to give you whiplash. A startled, pained yelp was expelled from your lungs as you were slammed into the wall beside the doors, and your hip connected painfully with a tiny side table that careened against the floor. The vase that had been perched atop it shattered loudly, the ceramic pieces scattering across the tile, but you barely got the chance to gauge the extent of the damage before an unfamiliar face was blocking your sight.

“Well well well, just look at what the cat dragged in. Get lost on your way home, doll?”

It took a second for the statement to register, but once it had, you were craning your head back to glare boldly at the arrogant sounding man. His tawny eyes were narrowed down at you in amusement, his thick forearm pinned horizontally across your chest to restrain you firmly in place between himself and the wall, and the predatory look in his gaze had your stomach sinking into your feet. Everything about him screamed dangerous; from the unruly hair that curled around his temples to the animalistic way he bared his teeth at you– there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the man would kill you if he deemed it acceptable. You cursed yourself silently for having put yourself in such a predicament in the first place.

The imposing man cocked his head to the side coyly as he teased, “I hardly think I deserve such a cruel expression when you’re the one sleuthing around my house uninvited.”

Your mouth opened and shut a few times before you managed to stammer out, “I-I wasn’t–”

“Don’t deny it,” he cut you off quickly. “What other reason would Ominis’ little plaything have for being here? I sincerely doubt the house-elves held the door open for you.”

The term ‘plaything’ made you scowl, distracting you from the fact that the man even knew who you were, and you brazenly planted your hands against his firm chest to shove him away. It was like pushing against an immovable boulder. “I’m not his plaything, you prat–”

His free hand shot up in a flash to grip the sides of your jaw painfully, the look on his face darkening tenfold as he growled, “Careful now, I’d hate to lose my temper and take away my brother’s pet.” The fingers splayed under your face tightened a fraction as the crazed man angled your head to the side, shamelessly pressing his nose against the sensitive skin of your throat before he inhaled deeply. You shuddered uncomfortably at the contact. “Although I’m beginning to understand his infatuation a bit. You smell… different. What is that, exactly?”

You had no fucking clue what he was referring to, nor did you care to find out. Each passing second brought the towering man closer into your personal space, and when one of his legs started to weasel its way in-between yours, you found yourself attempting to writhe out of his ironclad grip. “Let go of me,” you demanded in a low voice, doing your best to keep your words steady and hide the rampant unease in your tone.

“Answer my question,” he countered easily. “Or I’ll snap your scrawny neck and be done with it. Makes no difference to me whether you live or die–”

“If you have any desire to keep those slimy hands of yours, you’ll remove them this instant, Marvolo.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Ominis’ booming voice echoing throughout the foyer, which had the elder Gaunt smiling wickedly at you. He didn’t bother turning around, opting to stay right where he was and drop his fingers lower so he could squeeze around your windpipe, and you knew your choked gasp reached Ominis’ ears when he swore viciously and began walking closer.

“Did I stutter? I said to unhand her, you cretin.”

Marvolo tutted disapprovingly, angling his head to the side so he could better keep track of Ominis coming up behind him, but he kept his eyes glued to yours all the while. “Come now, Ominis. You know how I feel about rats, and she was certainly scurrying around like one.”

You finally caught sight of the blond over Marvolo’s shoulder, and the look on his face was downright murderous. His dark, expressive brows were slammed down atop his milky-blue irises, and his pursed lips contorted into a scowl as he leveled his wand with the back of the taller man’s head. Ominis continued to side-step closer, moving with the prowess of a wolf stalking its prey, and to your immense satisfaction Marvolo broke eye contact with you to fix his gaze on his brother.

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he looked wary.

“Last chance,” Ominis grit out through his clenched teeth. “Let her go. Or you’ll be nothing more than a stain on the floor.”

The sharp laugh Marvolo let slip past his lips was positively wicked, and Ominis’ threat only served to motivate his brother into tightening his hand around your throat. Stars danced in the corners of your eyes then, and your own hand shot up to grip at the man’s thick wrist in an attempt to pry his fingers away from your windpipe. Panic flooded your brain, your racing heart drowning out the sound of Ominis’ angry voice as your pulse thundered in your ears. Fight or flight was probably an appropriate way to describe what you were feeling, but Marvolo was making both options impossible to act on.

He wasn’t listening to Ominis. He probably never would. You would have to get yourself out of this mess on your own.

Marvolo was barking out insults and threats over his shoulder, taunting Ominis into hurting him as he called his younger brother’s bluff. You were able to school your nerves long enough to focus and dig deep inside of yourself in search of the magic you so rarely touched. Isidora’s abilities were as much of an unknown now as they had been when you’d first absorbed them, but it was comparable to a living entity within you, and the phantom presence of her magic roared to life as you called upon it.

You felt the strange, darker magic crackle over your skin, and Marvolo’s head whipped back around to stare at you with his pupils blown wide. Whatever he saw reflected in your eyes was enough to spark alarm in his heart, and a sick, twisted part of you relished in the apprehension that washed over his features.

“What the fuck is that?” His hand around your throat loosened a fraction, but you weren’t about to let him walk away from this unscathed. The arm that had been hanging limp at your side stretched out until your palm was directly against his chest, and you couldn’t help but grimace when the red bolts of magic skirted across your forearm and blasted straight into his sternum.

Marvolo went flying with a barely there grunt– his arms and legs flailing as he tried to find purchase– to no avail. He hit the stone floor and slid an additional ten feet or so until he came to rest just beside the corridor you’d run out of earlier, and your blood ran cold when an older, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out from within the hallway. The look on his face was enough to spur you into action then, and you spared a quick, panicked glance at Ominis before you peeled off of the wall and threw the front door open.

The cool night air was like a slap to your face, sobering you up instantaneously and driving you to pump your legs harder— faster— as you sprinted down the path that led to the dark forest surrounding the property. There was a bang from somewhere behind you and an animalistic sound you could only describe as a snarl, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when it could potentially cost you dearly.

“Marvolo!” Ominis shouted, his voice angry and distant, but as the footsteps slapping against the gravel behind you got closer and closer, you realized it had to be him giving chase. Your heart hammered in your chest and in your ears– drowning out the sound of the encroaching danger hot on your heels– but you knew there would be no outrunning Marvolo. That crazed look in his eyes you’d seen earlier told you everything you needed to know; he would pursue you to the end of the damn country on foot if need be, and you had no intention of getting caught to find out what he had planned for you.

Another growl sounded from over your shoulder, causing you to will your brain out of flight-mode and force your magic into action. It surged in your blood, coursing through your veins as you thought of home– of safety.

One second you were running, and in the next you had apparated. Marvolo’s hand came down on empty air, his heels digging into the ground as he skidded to a stop and realized what had happened. You were already long gone, but his rage-filled roar shook the foundation of the manor, somehow echoing in your ears as you collapsed to your knees in the center of your living room.

***

Your eyes stung as the steam from the bath wafted up into your face, your gaze never straying from the surface of the water. It had been nearly two hours since your narrow escape from Ominis’ childhood home and you had been in the tub for the majority of it– calming your frayed nerves and racing heart with deep breaths that did little to quell the anxiety that still riddled you. The hot water had been charmed back to scalding temperatures twice now, having gone cold multiple times already as you sat with your knees curled against your chest and replayed every second of your fortuitous run-in with Marvolo Gaunt.

The ache in your hip throbbed to life every time you thought back to the primal glint that had flashed in Marvolo’s eyes as he’d thrown you into that table. What had started as a tender red spot on your side had transformed into a nasty, colossal bruise, stark and obvious against your bare skin. You hadn’t been able to so much as glance at the finger shaped bruises that wrapped around your neck without feeling nauseous.

You’d made a mistake in following Ominis– that much was certain.

The man in question had yet to return home, and as a result, the seemingly bottomless pit of unease in your chest only worsened. Part of you was ashamed for having left him alone to face his family’s scrutiny after literally breaking and entering, but you knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would have found a way to get you out as quickly as possible if you hadn’t done so yourself.

Still, you worried.

Another fifteen minutes passed without a sound from within the house, and you dimly registered that the water had gone cold once more. You were half tempted to heat it up again and spend the remainder of the night turning yourself into a human-sized prune, but the ache in your back from staying curled up for so long diminished the idea quickly. Swiftly, you hoisted yourself out of the water, using the rim of the tub to steady yourself as you stood and began drying yourself off. Rivulets of water still cascaded down your body as you draped your robe over your shoulders, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Fatigue overtook you as you combed through your hair with your fingers and padded into your bedroom, and the second you laid down atop the sheets, your eyes were drifting shut.

You had no idea how long you slept before the distinct feeling of the mattress dipping roused you from your light slumber. The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the pulsing, red glow that emanated from Ominis’ wand as he hovered it over you, and you slowly started to blink the fog from your eyes.

You had no clue how he realized you were awake, but his voice was unmistakably tight as he asked you, “Where are you hurt?”

It took your brain a second to fully register the question, and you propped yourself up on your elbow as your eyes adjusted to the dim light and muttered, “What?”

“You screamed,” he gritted through clenched teeth, and despite the low visibility in the room, you watched as his grip on his wand turned white knuckled. “I heard you earlier. You were in pain– I know it’s the truth– so tell me now, where are you hurt?”

On cue, the bruise on your hip throbbed to life, and you swiftly placed your hand on top of it while silently cursing yourself for not having brewed any Wiggenweld potions after returning home. Evidently your mind had been too jumbled to do the most logical thing following the altercation. “It’s not that bad–” you started to say, but Ominis cut you off before you could downplay the injury any further.

“Please,” he implored you, silencing you instantly with his pleading tone. “I’m trying to leave this up to you, but don’t think for a second I won’t figure it out for myself if you don’t tell me.”

Something about the desperate look on his face made you pause, and you took a moment to really take in the sight of him. He was pale– far paler than normal– and the way his brows furrowed told you that he was more anxious than you realized. His posture was still impeccable but less poised– closer to rigid. His shoulders barely moved, giving the illusion that he was hardly breathing, and you honestly weren’t sure he was at this point.

In short, Ominis looked petrified.

Your lips formed a hard line as your gaze traversed his stiff form, swallowing thickly before you slid your hand away from your hip to reveal the dark purple blotch that decorated your side. “My hip,” you murmured, afraid that if you spoke the truth too loudly, the tentative composure Ominis was keeping would vanish.

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and the hand he didn’t have wrapped around the handle of his wand came to skim along your waist before hovering ever so slightly above the bruise. “Where else?”

“This is the worst of the damage–”

“Where else?” His voice was deeper and rougher than you were accustomed to hearing, and the notable difference had your stomach flipping over on itself. It left you feeling queasy, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or at the situation as a whole.

“…My neck,” you relented quietly, all too aware of the blatant anger that overtook Ominis’ face. “At least I returned the favor,” you added quickly with a half-smile, trying to lessen the severity of the claim. It was a failed attempt, however, seeing as the man averted his unseeing gaze to the floor and shook his head minutely. Dimly, you watched as he waved his wand over his free hand, and a small vial of Wiggenweld appeared in the center of his palm before he wordlessly handed it to you. Given his tense demeanor, you opted not to say anything as you took it and removed the cork, then drank down the earthy contents graciously. The relief was instantaneous, and through the darkness of the room you managed to catch sight of the bruise on your hip fading away entirely.

Your tiny sigh of relief reached Ominis’ ears, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate– albeit barely. “You should never have gone there. Why would you set foot anywhere near that damnable house? Do you have any idea the kind of danger you put yourself in– the kind of danger that you’re still in?”

At that, you finally pushed yourself up so you were sitting with your back against the pillows, setting aside the empty vial so you could clasp Ominis’ free hand in yours. His skin was cool to the touch, and you noted the miniscule tremors that emanated from him as you squeezed the appendage to will his attention back to you. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I was worried about you– you were so upset before you left earlier and I was scared that your family would do something to you.”

“Of course they want to do something to me. They’ve tried puppeting me into a version of myself they can tolerate for my entire life, but it’s for that very reason that I can handle them. I’ve told you what they’re like– how relentless they are– and still you went there.” His head finally snapped back in your direction, and the expression on his face was one you were certain you would never forget; it was a mask of desperation, fear, and most notably, rage. “You have no idea what you’ve done– what it means now that they’ve seen you and what you can do.”

You’d hadn’t really done much of anything, aside from blasting Marvolo across the foyer before running for your life. Still, his words kindled a spark of fear in your chest, and your hold on his hand turned loose and clammy. “What are you talking about?”

“Before tonight, you were just an unknown witch I’d been… ‘cavorting’ with, in my father’s eyes. Easy to get rid of should the need arise. Until earlier, they didn’t believe you to be exceptionally powerful or particularly useful.”

The sudden dryness in your throat became painfully obvious. “Useful how?”

“The Gaunt’s value power and authority over everything. Both things guarantee them the influence they need to further their own ends, and as unknown as your abilities are to them, they are undeniable. They’d be fools to ignore such a potent form of magic, and as much as I detest my family and their convoluted values, I’ll be the first to admit that they aren’t stupid. They will find a way to make that power their own– blood purity be damned– and stealing you away and marrying you off to my brother would be their most likely course of action.”

Ominis practically spat the word, his teeth bared and eyes narrowed as murderous thoughts of his brother flew through his mind. Your own head was reeling at the revelation, nausea crashing over you as you thought back to Marvolo and the sadistic way he’d smiled as he tried choking the life out of you. Someone like that wouldn’t– no, couldn’t have a caring bone in their body. But you also knew that someone of his caliber was bound to be determined to get what he wanted, and if Ominis believed that his family now sought to obtain you for their own ends, Marvolo would do everything in his power to make it happen.

You had really, really fucked up.

Somewhere in-between thinking of Ominis’ brother and the sickening idea of being kidnapped, your breathing had kicked up dramatically. You didn’t notice, but the blond man beside you certainly did. Ominis turned fully so his torso was angled towards you, feeling around the bed for your other hand before clasping your trembling limbs in his cooler ones, and your wide eyes flicked back up to meet his. “I won’t let them have you. Do you hear me? If they so much as glance at you, I’ll leave them wishing they had never set their sights on you.”

“You can’t know that,” you whispered, and your voice was unrecognizable to you. It was small and shaky, timid and so very, very afraid. “Marvolo is– he’s a beast. He’ll kill you in a heartbeat, Ominis. You’ll die and it will be all my fault. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault–”

In a flash, Ominis silenced you with a kiss. It took you by surprise, but it was far from an unwelcome one– especially when his wand bearing hand slid to the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer towards him. You were pleased to discover that the skin there no longer throbbed with discomfort, the Wiggenweld potion he’d given you having done its job for all the bruises, not just the one on your hip. The revelation calmed you further, and before you knew it you were melting against the taller man, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt to cling to him desperately.

Ominis broke away momentarily to murmur against your parted lips, “No one will ever take you from me, you’re mine.”

Despite the circumstances that led the two of you to this moment, you found yourself enraptured by the possessive declaration, and you couldn’t help but lean closer into the blond’s personal space until your hands were sandwiched between his chest and your breasts. Your mouth found his again, and you fervently bit at his bottom lip as you breathily whispered, “I’m yours, Ominis. Only yours.”

Instantly, Ominis was pushing you back towards the headboard until your head knocked against the wooden frame, not once breaking the kiss as he positioned himself on top of you. His long legs came to cage your own against the mattress as he threw his wand to the edge of the bed, freeing both of his hands so he could plant them on either side of your face. Pulling away seemed physically difficult for him but he didn’t stray far, opting to rest his forehead against yours and fix his hazy eyes directly on yours. How he knew where to aim his heady stare, you didn’t know, but your toes curled at the ardent need for you that reflected in his blue irises.

“Say it again,” he implored you with a voice like pure sin.

“I’m yours,” you obliged him without missing a beat, and a sigh slipped past your lips as Ominis lowered his face to pepper featherlight kisses along your jaw and down the now unmarred column of your neck. Goosebumps broke out virtually all over your body when you felt one of his cool hands fall to the neckline of your robe, and as Ominis slowly tugged the material apart to expose your bare chest, he sank his teeth into the tender spot above your clavicle. The pain laced pleasure left you moaning his name in earnest, your voice steadily growing louder as his thumb came to graze over one of your nipples.

You felt the pressure from his teeth lessen as you arched into his touch, followed by his kiss-swollen lips latching over the bite to suck lightly. “Again,” he breathed, continuing to work his searing brand into your flesh.

There were too many ways to describe his actions; primal, dominant, and greedy, to name a few. Yet there was a softness to his words that left your heart aching within your chest– a tenderness that spoke volumes of the fear he’d felt upon realizing you had entered into that nest of vipers. He had nearly lost you tonight, and when the hand against your breast shifted down to curl around your waist, you realized he would never allow for it to happen again.

“I’m here, Ominis, I’m right here,” you moaned, your reedy voice bouncing off the walls of the bedroom and causing the man above you to shudder. “I’m here and I’m yours.”

Before long, Ominis was moving back into your line of sight to capture your lips in another searing kiss. The hand on your waist traversed the bare expanse of your lower stomach before reaching your aching center, and you mindlessly wound your arms around his neck to tug him closer, bucking your hips into his hand as he slid a slender finger through your folds.

“Mine,” he growled against your parted lips, and your next breath caught in your throat as he tentatively pushed the digit inside your wet heat. Your contented sigh filtered through Ominis’ hypersensitive ears as he pressed his finger in all the way to the knuckle, and the arm he supported himself with trembled minutely as he fought to control his baser urges.

After everything that had transpired tonight, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep in your cunt, desperate to feel you clamp down around his cock and suck him in further and further as he claimed you. He longed to mark you, brand you, consume you, in every possible way– his family’s wishes be damned. He would make you his and his alone. Should any of his kin so much as attempt to interject, he vowed he would defend you until his last breath– and then not even death would stop him. Ominis knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would defy the laws of nature if it meant keeping you safe from harm.

As you continued to rock your hips in time with Ominis’ hand, your legs spread apart of their own accord, silently beckoning him closer as you shivered under his dutiful ministrations. Ominis felt the movement and groaned in blatant appreciation, taking advantage of the newfound space to siddle down the bed and kneel comfortably between your legs, and all the while his finger continued to pump in and out of your wet heat languidly. He bestowed another toe-curling kiss upon your lips before breaking away to slide fully down the mattress, your heart stuttering in your chest as he moved low enough to settle between your quivering thighs. It was impossible to overlook the animalistic expression on Ominis’ face as he gazed in your direction– following the sound of your barely there whimpers– and your blood ignited in your veins at the sight.

All too eager, Ominis wasted little time in securing his grip around your waist with his free arm to better pull you harder onto his finger. The keening sound that slipped from your throat was replaced almost instantly by a guttural moan, drawn forth by the feeling of your lover’s lips latching around your clit to suck enthusiastically, and your head thunked against the headboard as wave after wave of sheer pleasure cascaded through you.

Your thighs absentmindedly clenched on either side of Ominis’ head as he shamelessly pulled your bundle of nerves into his mouth, the action accompanied by wet, perverted sounds that had damn near all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks. “Merlin, Ominis– fuck–”

Beyond a throaty growl, he said nothing. He simply tightened his hold on your waist, his other hand angling itself so he could better curl the finger inside of you, the combined sensations making your head positively spin. Entirely at his mercy, your hands flew to his soft, blond hair as you effectively surrendered to the pure bliss he granted you.

If you had been hot and wet already, Ominis’ mouth felt a thousand times more so as he torturously dragged his tongue up your cunt. He removed his finger from your clenching walls and replaced it with the wet muscle, wriggling it as much as he could as though he were desperate to lap up everything that escaped out of you. Your breathing hitched and your hips involuntarily bucked when his ministrations traveled higher towards your clit, and when he finally reached it, the tip of his tongue was slow and methodical as he pressed firm, torturous circles around the throbbing bundle.

Ordinarily, having Ominis appreciatively go down on you would have been the highlight of the night, but given his domineering persona at present, you knew you were just plain fucked now.

“Ominis, please,” you managed to croak out. “I’m not going to last, I– ah!” You practically yelped when the tips of the man’s teeth raked along your inner thigh, nipping at the soft skin there hard enough for you to jolt.

“Just relax and let me work,” he muttered coolly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the spot he’d bitten as he dragged his hands down your abdomen to squeeze your tensing thighs.

Despite your best efforts, you were quickly losing your grip on anything other than the sensations Ominis was lavishing you with. You felt lightheaded as you attempted to release your tense muscles, struggling to do so as your lover devoured you with reckless abandon. His nose brushed against your clit as he slipped his tongue inside of you once more, the sound of his wet, suckling noises intermingling with your breathy whines as you felt your climax building higher and higher in your gut. You couldn’t tell if your arousal was stemming from how Ominis enthusiastically used his tongue, lips, and teeth on you or if it came from the demanding way he directed you, but you decided that you didn’t care; every feeling had burrowed deep inside of you and taken root in your mind.

You wanted more– no, needed more.

Head whacking back against the wooden bed frame, you needily tugged at the strands of his hair wrapped around your fingers as you pleaded, “Please, Ominis, I need you…”

Those five words did more to stroke his ego than you would ever know. Right now, Ominis needed you to need him. He wanted you to succumb to his ministrations and bend to his will, all to parry the baseless demands of his deranged family. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever willingly hand you over to them– much less to Marvolo– and through your rapture-filled begging, he knew he had succeeded.

You were wholly and unequivocally his.

He pulled away for a moment to run his hands up your thighs, over your hips, then along the pebbled peaks of your breasts. The way you trembled at his touch told him everything he needed to know; you were hanging on by a thread, and he didn’t need to see you in order to know you looked absolutely wrecked.

Unable to endure a second more of the teasing, Ominis raised himself up on his knees to remove his clothing. Swiftly and efficiently, he dexterously undid the catch of his trousers before shoving the constricting attire down his narrow hips. There was no stopping the sigh of relief that spilled through his clenched teeth as his cock finally sprung free– long, heavy, and leaking from the red, swollen tip. With his shirt disheveled, hair mussed, and pants haphazardly hanging below his hip bones, he was truly the picture of temptation. You stared up at him through hooded eyes as he stroked himself a few times, taking in the sight of your lover towering over you as you lay prone atop the sheets beneath him.

Once again, Ominis’ uncanny ability to feel your eyes on him surprised you, and a cheshire-like smirk blossomed across his face as he asked, “Enjoying the view?”

“More than you are, I’d wager,” you retorted, and Ominis scoffed as his smug expression turned into one of amused disbelief. That mouth of yours was bound to land you in trouble one of these days.

“Smartass,” he murmured affectionately, keeping one hand on his shaft as the other reached down in search of your waist, squeezing the flesh there with a bruising strength that only served to intensify the ache between your legs. You aided him by wriggling down the sheets in order to press your ass against his bent knees, and Ominis lowered himself once more so the heavy weight of his cock rested against your spit-slick folds. It was hard for you to believe that the wild haired, smokey-eyed man kneeling between your legs was the same boy who had shyly walked with you to your classes all those years ago. Both of his hands pressed against your hips this time as he sat back on his heels, white teeth flashing as he aligned the head of his manhood against your entrance.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” Ominis asked, as though you hadn’t been begging for this very outcome minutes before.

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily, your hands twisting in the fabric of your long-abandoned bathrobe beneath you. “I’m–”

Despite his privileged upbringing, Ominis was a fan of the simple things in life. Good food, long walks during the warmer seasons, and the sound of your voice catching when he took you by surprise and slid inside you abruptly. In one fluid motion, he breached your walls, listening intently to your sharp intake of breath as he inched himself forward until his knees were under your rear and he’d bottomed out completely. The small whimper that slipped from your mouth had a deep, throaty chuckle escaping his, and his thumbs took to tracing encouraging circles against your hips as you clenched around him.

“I’m sure you are,” he purred in an infuriatingly sexy tone while you struggled to regain control over your breathing. Instantly, the dim embers of lust within you were rekindled, every inch of your body warm and borderline electric. Your hips writhed in Ominis’ hold in an attempt to wriggle closer, the unyielding grip he had on you coupled with the hungry expression on his face almost enough to make you come undone then and there.

“Fuck, Ominis–” your words were cut short by a stifled moan as the blond slowly withdrew himself, arching back until only the tip of his cock was inside you before slamming his hips forward in one quick, sharp thrust. Your hands flew to his clothed knees as you dug your nails into the rumpled material of his trousers, desperate to touch every inch of him that you could but struggling to catch your breath in the midst of his slow, methodical thrusts.

Well, methodical at first.

You could feel Ominis’ acute desire for you with every pump of his hips, and a groan snaked its way out of his chest as he freed one of his hands to reach down and thumb over your clit. You hissed triumphantly through your teeth as you saw his expression slowly shift into something needier, his thrusts becoming less precise and more visceral. With how tight he was gripping you, you were positive the healed bruise from earlier would be replaced by long, finger shaped stripes, but you didn’t care. If it was Ominis, it was fine. If it was him claiming you, branding you, consuming you, it was more than fine.

The blue-eyed incubus above you seemed to think similarly, if the low rumble in his chest was anything to go by. He was absolutely lost in the euphoria that came with being encased in your pulsing, tight heat, causing him to abandon his pretenses of control and give into his want for you with gusto. The hand he had on your sensitive bundle of nerves returned to grasp your waist, and even elevated as he was, he still had to thrust down into you– shaking the headboard with every plunge as he effectively fucked you into the mattress.

The distinction was clear and evident in your mind as your legs came to wind around Ominis’ waist; the two of you had obviously been intimate before, and you had definitely made love before, but you had never been so carnally fucked like this a day in your life. It was hard to recall if Ominis had ever ravished you with such need in every stroke, enough so that you found yourself unable to control your shaking breaths or the volume of your voice. It was enrapturing– getting caught up in the way he staked his claim on you– so intent on fucking himself harder and deeper into you that his own husky murmurs of your name fell from his lips like a mantra.

Your inability to fight your moans and curses and feverish pleas for more was what Ominis lived for. The blond craved the sound of your voice like a drug, and he drew unparalleled strength from your vocal satisfaction. Maybe it had more to do with the events of the night than anything else, but hearing you cry his name and feeling you claw at the tops of his thighs made his chest swell with possessive affection, thrilled to hear you unwittingly proclaim that you were in fact his. No one else would ever have you– no one else would ever find themselves lucky enough to have you reduced to such a state beneath them other than him.

“M-More,” you practically sobbed the request as Ominis gripped your hips tighter, dimly registering the thundering crack of the headboard banging against the wall. “More– please– I’m s-so close–”

You asked for it with each breath expelled from your lungs, and Ominis would graciously give it to you. He couldn’t have refused you any longer if he wanted to. “You want to come, darling?” He panted, receiving only whimpering nods in return. “Ask.”

“P-Please, please let me come, I can’t–” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your teeth clenched together hard enough to make your jaw pop. You teetered on the brink of oblivion, waiting only on Ominis’ say-so to fall over the edge which seemed to loom so, so close.

“Beg,” Ominis rasped thickly, his fingers tightening and digging into the skin of your hips as he bucked harder against your ass. “Beg for it– beg for me to let you come.”

You couldn’t even find the brainpower to realize he was demanding to hear you say it to fuel his unrepentant hold on you. The taunting, the pleasure laced brutality– it was all to assuage the bitter anger that had coursed through his veins upon hearing his family refer to you as tradeable cattle. Later on, he would be collected enough to reassure you that you were your own person, free to make your own decisions and go wherever your heart desired.

Right now though, his baser urges had won out, and he needed to hear you say it.

Your head slammed into the pillows as your back arched off the mattress, doing your best to shut out the mounting pleasure that threatened to break through your crumbling resolve. “Please, Ominis! Please let me–” you hiccuped around another gasp, the ache in your gut bordering on unbearable. “L-Let me… let me…”

One of his hands released your waist to feel up your torso and curl around the back of your neck, lifting your head off of the pillow so your eyes were on him as he uttered five words that struck something deep inside of you.

“Then come for me, love.”

Your breaking point smacked into you hard and fast, leaving you equally breathless and brainless as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out cry of Ominis’ name. Your climax ripped through you ferociously, your vision flashing white and your muscles tensing for a moment of near perfect silence as your lover continued to thrust in and out of you with unwavering focus. Even after you’d collapsed back against the sheets and gone limp in his arms, Ominis continued to chase his own finish, balancing precariously over you on his elbows and burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle the shaky groans he failed to bite back.

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he continued to murmur quiet declarations against your skin that sounded a lot like, “Mine.”

Before long, Ominis was following you over the edge with a throaty purr that slithered out of his throat. His arms trembled on either side of your head, his hands gathering fistfuls of the pillows as he buried himself completely inside of you with one final plunge of his hips. You heard the blond moan hoarsely in your ear as he spilled into you, grinding against your ass to milk every last drop of his seed from his twitching member, and when he mouthed wetly against the sweat-slick column of throat before biting down, all you could focus on was the warmth that filled you as you quivered under him.

After a few moments of the two of you panting softly, you lifted your hands to Ominis’ clothed back in a bid to usher him to the side. He tensed, however, and you paused as he wedged one of his arms under your back to hold you flush to him as he continued to re-center himself. “Not yet,” you heard him grumble into the hollow of your throat. “Not yet… give me a second.”

“…Alright,” you relented quickly, only mildly concerned as you wrapped your arms around his slender shoulders. With your fingers tracing lazy shapes against his clothed back, you allowed yourself to enjoy the feeling of Ominis’ weight pressing down on you, his gentle exhales fanning against your clammy skin, and the steady rhythm of his heart beating against your sternum.

Given the severity of what had happened at his family’s house, you weren’t sure the two of you would ever get another moment like this again. So, you held on tightly to him in the hopes that the night would last just a little bit longer.

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours but realistically could only have been a few minutes, and shortly after Ominis began peppering kisses up your throat and along your jaw, your eyes drifted shut as you dozed off once more. When you woke the following morning and found yourself tucked in beneath the sheets, you propped yourself up on your elbow to glance around the otherwise empty room, noting immediately that Ominis was nowhere to be found.

In a panicked flurry of movement, you threw off the blankets and were still tying your robe around your waist as you hurriedly shuffled down the hallway. Your dread was smothered in the next instant by overwhelming ease as you rounded the corner to find Ominis in the kitchen, gripping the countertop and working a muscle in his jaw while he hovered his wand over a letter that looked eerily similar to the one he’d received just a day ago.

Even though he could hear you approaching, he said nothing as you padded across the room to stand behind him, coiling your arms around his waist to press your front against his back. A shaky sigh escaped him, and you stared at the wall as you contemplated your words before deciding on, “What are you reading?”

A pause, “A formal summons for you, inviting you to meet my family officially.”

Your heart fell into your stomach, arms tightening around the taller man a fraction as you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. “We won’t go,” you announced, and Ominis shifted in your embrace so he could wrap his arms around you to hug you back with a firmness that spoke volumes of his agreement.

“We won’t,” he said. “But we can’t stay here, either. Not anymore.”

“I know.”

He buried his chin in the mess of hair atop your head, shamelessly inhaling your scent before he told you, “We have to leave– go somewhere far away– and we can’t tell anyone.”

“I know.”

The way his nimble fingers gripped the back of your robe told you of just how conflicted he was to ask this of you– to uproot your shared lives here to flee the meddling of his family. His voice was laced with remorse as he asked, “And you’re okay with that? Truly?”

“I am,” and you really were. There wasn’t a lick of hesitation in your voice– not a shred of apprehension hidden in your tone at the prospect of packing up and running as far from here as humanly possible. “So long as we’re together, I am.”

Ominis skimmed his hands up your back to cup your cheeks, angling your head up at him so he could kiss you fully, and you returned the gesture with equal fervor. As long as he was with you, you knew you could do anything. With Ominis by your side, you would fight tooth and nail against every hellish creature or person in existence to ensure your future together.

Wherever the two of you ended up, you already knew that your home wouldn’t just be some place. It would always be him.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x female! reader #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt oneshot #dominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #at last my final 5 month old wip is complete #maybe you can tell it started one year and ended another but I truly no longer care #I'm FREEEEEEEEE #happy reading my smutty gremlins #my writing

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carlos-in-glasses · 23 days

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I Was Thinking About Your Mouth

Read on Ao3

Whole fic written, 30k, 5 chapters, rated E. Updating Sundays.

In the early hours of a mellow May night, TK Strand wakes Carlos Reyes and proposes to him. A baffled Carlos initially starts to talk TK down – as if assuming he might not mean it. This is the story of why.

Or, 4 times TK accidentally proposed because Carlos is spectacular with his mouth, +1 time he genuinely proposed because Carlos is spectacular with his heart.

____________________________________________________

He’s smug when he enters him. He gets to be. No finger-stretch is quite enough for Carlos’ thickness, and TK grits his teeth at the exquisite burn – so familiar, yet always a shock. Carlos catches TK’s mouth with his as he opens wide, his head tipping back. Carlos licks at TK’s lips, his tongue, his teeth. He loves the way he can make TK’s mouth open with words or make it open with silence. He can make TK’s mouth open like he can’t open it wide enough to get all the air he needs, or to let out the moan trapped around his heart. He loves TK’s mouth so much, he just has to kiss it, even if TK’s mind has bent sideways and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to kiss him back right now. On his desk at work, Carlos keeps a picture of TK grinning beautifully. It’s his favourite thing. That smile, that mouth. He thinks about it all the time.

Chapter 1: What Are you Thinking? - It’s fall 2020, TK Strand and Carlos Reyes are now boyfriends officially. And TK is maybe a little bit too excited about it.

Chapter 2: It's Our Dining Room Now, TK - In 2021, TK is very happy with his new roomie. A confused Carlos finds the people he can turn to. Or maybe they find him.

Chapter 3: Kiss Your Head - Valentine’s Day 2022. TK is recovering from a coma and he and Carlos are finding their way back together after their four-month split. When Carlos drops into the hospital for a visit, certain words are exchanged.

Chapter 4: I'm Not a Very Good Talker - April 2022. Carlos is jealous that TK is spending so much time with his sponsor. However, there is something Carlos can do for TK that nobody else can, even if it causes TK to say something he shouldn’t.

Read on Ao3

Thank you fabulous @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut for the beta and @lemonlyman-dotcom for being my emotional support American.

#I Was Thinking About Your Mouth #BJ Fic #This one is smutty lads #Thank you for reading if you do - I hope you enjoy it!#And so much fun to write #cig fic #my fic #tarlos fanfic #tarlos fic #tarlos #tk stand x carlos reyes

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nerdy-talks · 4 months

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Obey Me! Nightbringer - Satan Out of Context

You are very welcome, Satan.

I'll make you feel better any time~ ( ¬‿¬ )

#my mind has been in the gutter for days #that's because I've been reading smutty romance webcomics #satan deserves to feel good in every way #he's so cute and hot and gorgeous and perfect #best angry boy ever 💚#I want him to take his anger out on me 😏#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #obey me nightbringer satan #obey me satan avatar of wrath #om! satan avatar of wrath #om satan avatar of wrath #satan avatar of wrath #obey me nightbringer satan avatar of wrath

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djrusso-romance · 5 months

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From my instagram:

Mon Reyes did the artwork!

Before there was Xavian, the sweet-and-spicy bodyguard space elf... there was Five. An equally smart but deadly gargoyle-like alien just trying to get the F off the planet so he can be left alone in peace.

He gets more than he bargains for, of course, when he crash lands in the Netherlands and meets Sanne.

Parents aren't supposed to have favorites, but as an author, I definitely do. Stroopwafels & Starlight's Five and We Own the Stars's Xavian are two of my favorite MMCs I've written!

If you read and enjoyed We Own the Stars, then I highly recommend moving straight into Stroopwafels & Starlight.

***

Something I haven't mentioned in the past because it never comes up in the plot itself is that yes, this book is still inherently queer, because Five is pansexual! If you're cute, have a cute personality, then you're game to him.

Sanne, on the other hand, is straight. No one has asked me about her, but I figured I'd mention it anyway hahaha.

#diverse books #alien books #alien romance books #sci fi romance books #fantasy romance books #romance books #paranormal romance books #monster romance #smutty reads #monster smut #monster fucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #booklr #writelr #lgbt authors #queer authors

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virescent-v · 9 months

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Hey, can I request #92 pls. Maybe with a little angst but I’m leaving it to you🩷

hi hi hi, so sorry this took like...two weeks. life, ya know?

it started as something, and im not sure this is the angst you were really looking for (that really isn't my area of expertise i should work on that lmfao) but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Definitely Not Friends

Word Count: 2.7k+

Prompt: “friends don’t do this kind of shit”

Warnings: It's smutty, ya'll, but not my "normal" kind of smut

The repetitive nature of your ongoing…tryst with Emily was getting under your skin. It had all started off so innocently; just some casual flirtation between coworkers. Nothing that Derek and Penelope haven’t been accused of over the years. But before you knew it, you were spending more alone time with Emily than any of your other coworkers. Late night talks on the phone, dinners after long cases to unwind, Friday night movie nights, the list goes on.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Just two coworkers who saw some terrible shit every day who got on well enough to lean on one another.

But then Emily started pushing the envelope.

A brush across your shoulders as she was passing by. A squeeze of your hand before getting out of the SUV to catch a killer. Eye contact that lasted just a little too long. A lip bite that made your breath catch.

Innocent enough things that you convinced yourself you were just imagining them.

But then one night after a gut wrenching case, she kissed you.

She had driven you home from the airport after getting back from a two week case in Minnesota. It was well after midnight, you could barely keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to spend the rest of the night crying, eating your feelings in ice cream, or sleeping for the next six days.

She walked you to your door, nothing out of the usual. You looked at her before going inside to say goodbye, but she engulfed you in the best hug of your life. Her arms around you were strong. Supportive. You could feel your whole body melt into hers.

You’ve never felt more safe.

When you pulled back a little to look at her, your eyes caught and you tried to convey everything you couldn’t find the words for. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, she kissed you and she ran.

You stood stupefied on your porch, watched her get back into the unmarked SUV before speeding off into the night.

You didn’t talk to her for three days.

At work, she acted like everything was normal.

You couldn’t bring yourself to bring it up because you weren’t even sure what it was. Was it just a comfort thing? Did she have feelings for you? You couldn’t tell. Emily was so hard to read on a good day, let alone when your head was all over the place.

A few days passed and it had seemed like everything went back to normal. You talked every day, had gone to a few meals together, and she came over for a movie night.

Except this movie night was different, too.

She was wearing a skimpier set of pajamas. A loose fitting tank top and the shortest pair of shorts you had ever seen. You knew for a fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra because her nipples were visible through the material. You weren’t sure how she hadn’t caught you staring.

She sat closer to you on the couch than normal, too. Your sides were basically joined from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her warmth radiating from her to you, the nervous excitement making your body heat up even more in return.

Again, you weren’t sure what was happening, but you were going to roll with it. The unknowing was thrilling in itself.

Emily fell asleep halfway through whatever romcom you had put on, her head on your shoulder, her hand lazily resting on your thigh.

You were too nervous to move, your breaths short as not to jostle her.

You’re pretty sure you could die happy on this couch with Emily’s head resting on you.

It was almost the end of the movie when Emily shuffled in her sleep, her head moving towards the crook of your neck, her hand traveling dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. You could feel the heat erupt through your body, your stomach starting to twist into knots. You knew you should probably wake her, get her into your guest bed, and go to sleep. But you were enjoying her being this close too much.

You could feel her breath against the side of your neck, the little puffs of air almost tickling. She grunted in her sleep, her hand tightening around your thigh, her nose nuzzling against you as she let out a sexy little “mmhmm.”

Your mind immediately went to the gutter and you could only imagine her making that sound as she ground her hips against yours in your bed.

You pressed your thighs together to stop the zoom of arousal that shot through you. You barely suppressed the moan that wanted to tumble from your lips.

You finally gained the courage to wake her and get her to the guest room. Sleepy Emily was one of your favorites; she turned almost incoherent and klutzy and it was maybe the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

As you were pulling the sheets up around her, she all but dragged you into the bed with her. She got you settled under the covers and immediately cuddled into you, making you into the little spoon. Again, you could feel her breath on your neck, her hand lazily drawing patterns on your upper thigh and hip.

You felt yourself freeze as she sleepily mumbled, “Stop overthinking it. Go to sleep.”

You woke up the next morning and she was already gone.

Your life with Emily continued on like this for a month. Little things would happen that would make you question your relationship to her and then she’d act as if nothing happened and that you two were just really good friends.

It was making your mind spin, giving you a constant headache.

You were almost fed up with the constant see-sawing, ready to talk to her about what was happening, when you two first fell into bed together.

Another bad case, a late night out at the bar with everyone, and too many shots of tequila.

You woke up the following morning with a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and fuzzy memories of the night before. All you could remember was the smell of her signature perfume, the feel of lips on skin, and sore muscles.

You probably would’ve written it off, thought it was just your overactive imagination if it hadn’t been for the rather large bite mark on the inside of your thigh.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, especially since the memories were still alluding you. You probably would’ve tried to write it off as a random hook up if it hadn’t been for the fact that Emily had woken up in bed beside you, an almost matching bite mark against her collarbone.

This time, it was a little harder to write off what had happened. Especially since you were both naked.

You could feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish, an almost panicked look in your eyes.

Emily cleared her throat. “Wanna get breakfast?”

You were never more appreciative and pissed for her nonchalant attitude.

“Sure,” you said, a sudden burst of confidence hitting you as you got out of bed to head to the bathroom without worrying about covering up.

You’re pretty sure you heard Emily gasp as you closed the bathroom door, a little victorious smirk playing at your lips.

Again, you two never talked about what happened.

It almost seemed like a game. How many days you two could go before stumbling into one of these moments together.

You made it thirty-six hours without snuggling on the couch for a movie.

You made it thirty-seven hours without Emily’s hand finding your thigh.

You made it eighty-eight hours without her kissing you after a night out.

You made it one hundred and fourteen hours before she was back in your bed.

Except this time, you were both sober.

You had almost gotten yourself killed. Not on purpose, just a run in with one of the many psychopaths you deal with at work. Wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.

But after he’d been placed in cuffs, Emily had this absolutely feral look in her eyes. Uncaged. Like she was seconds away from combusting.

She drove you home. Like always. But the entire ride was silent.

You made it into your apartment, the door barely closed behind you before she exploded. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She shouted.

It made you take a step back. She’d never raised her voice at you before. Emily was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her fists clenched at her sides.

You were sure you looked scared, befuddled, bewildered. You couldn’t even process quick enough to say anything before she continued.

“You almost got yourself killed! He had you pinned to the fucking floor! There’s bruises along your arms from where he touched you!” At this point, you could see Emily almost vibrating with her anger. But you were fairly certain she wasn’t actually angry. At least you hoped not.

“I can’t believe you would be so reckless to walk into a building alone! You knew what he was capable of! How sneaky he’s been! But you didn’t care!” Emily started pacing around the floor, her eyes wild, but focused on her hands, her fingers twisting around each other.

You could feel your own misplaced anger starting to race through your veins. “I knew what I was doing! I had cleared the room! I don’t know how he got the jump on me, but how on earth is that my fucking fault, Emily? We split up, like we do to cover the premises, and I drew the short end of the stick!” You let out a breath. “Why are you blaming me? Blame him!”

She spun around to face you, her nostrils flaring. “I am! But I’m also blaming you!”

You rolled your eyes, tossed your hands up,” Why? What did I do? Why are you mad at me and yelling at me?”

“Because you didn’t wait for me!”

Your eyes caught Emily’s. Beneath the anger, beneath her guarded shell, you could see the fear in her eyes. The realization that something worse than a couple of bruises could have happened.

You tried to open your mouth, say something, but before you could, Emily muttered a quick “fuck it” before crossing the room to you, crushing her lips to yours.

Before you knew it, clothes were scattered along the hallway to your bedroom.

Emily tossed you back onto the bed, her body quickly making its way between your thighs. You quickly wrapped your legs around her waist, dragging her closer to you, tangling your hands in her hair as you brought her down for another heated kiss.

Emily broke away from you, trailing her lips down the side of your neck, quickly finding the spot behind your ear that made you moan out loud. She spent a considerable amount of time there, making sure to leave her mark before moving lower down your throat, kissing across your collarbones, and down between the valley between your breasts.

She wasted no time wrapping her lips around your turgid peak, taking satisfaction in the way it made you fist the sheets below you in your hands. She made sure to give the same attention to the other nipple, her hand making sure to not leave the opposite one alone for long.

Emily could spend hours giving your breasts the attention they deserved, but she was almost as impatient as you seemed to be, so she kept making her way down your body, finding the sweet spots that made you whimper or sigh, making note of them for later.

You could feel how wet you were already, but with Emily between your legs, you couldn’t get any friction to help the ache that was building.

“Em, please,” you whispered, almost embarrassed by how much you needed her. The build up from all of the times she was just a little too close, the lingering touches, and even the thought of the last time you two fell into bed together (even though you unfortunately don’t remember much of it). It was driving you crazy.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you,” she smirked at you before swiping her tongue through your wetness.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your eyes rolling back a little, one of your hands shooting down to her hair to keep her there.

Emily ate you out as if her life depended on it, as if she could spend the rest of her life between your legs. She took her time to explore every inch of you, figuring out what moves made you whine, which ones made your entire body shudder, and what made you grip her hair harder.

It didn’t take long for you to climb towards the edge of your orgasm, but before you could fall over, Emily stopped and pulled away from you.

The gasp, the outrage on your face almost made Emily laugh out loud. “I love being friends with you,” she snickered at you, a taunting glint in her eyes.

“Friends don’t do this kind of shit,” you scoffed, flabbergasted at Emily’s ability, even with your juices all over her face, to ignore what was happening between you two.

You could feel Emily pause, her body tight, afraid to move. She didn’t expect you to lash out, and she could tell you weren’t really happy with her, upset with her disregard of everything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hands finding purchase on your hips, her thumbs rubbing back and forth a little. “I never knew how to…address this,” she shrugged.

You nearly laughed at how small she looked, unable to make eye contact with you. She didn’t have an issue with having her mouth on your pussy two minutes ago, but now she couldn’t look you in the eye.

“A conversation would’ve been a good place to start, Em. You made me feel like I was going crazy.”

Her eyes finally caught yours and you could instantly tell that she really did feel sorry. Feelings just weren’t her thing. Before she could apologize again, you cut her off, “We can talk about it after you finish fucking me, Emily.”

You watched her demeanor transform to something hungrier, cockier, feral. “Yes ma’am,” she mockingly saluted before connecting her lips to yours again, trying to convey everything that she was feeling.

Her hand traveled down from your hip, stilling at the apex of your thighs, silently asking for permission. You nodded against her, your lips still connected in a heated kiss.

She teasingly stroked your warm, wet pussy with her hand, gathering your juices on her fingers. She pulled back from your kiss, watching your expression as she slowly thrusted two fingers inside of you.

You tried to keep eye contact with her, but after the build up of all of the little moments between you, it felt so good to finally have her inside of you. Emily slowly built up to an almost punishing pace, something fast, and hard, and exactly what you needed. Her fingers curled at just the right angle to hit that spot inside of you that made your toes curl and your breath hitch.

Emily’s other hand made contact with your straining clit, rubbing tight, little circles to match her thrusts. You could feel yourself rushing towards that edge again, a breath away from letting go.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let go for me.”

Your release hit you like a freight train, your back arching off of the bed, your mouth open in a silent scream. You felt your muscles tense, the euphoria washing through you, before letting go and relaxing as Emily fucked you through your orgasm. You tried to catch your shallow breath, a light sheen of sweat across your flushed skin, before looking at Emily, your hands starting to dance across her skin.

Emily’s own hands caught yours, catching the questioning look in your eyes. She kissed both of your palms before tangling your fingers together. “Later, baby. We should talk first.”

Those words would usually cause a rush of panic to course through your blood, but something about the way that Emily was looking at you put you at ease.

You took a deep breath, smiling a little at her, kissing her hands in return. “Yeah, we should.”

She smiled back.

And she didn’t run.

#virescent v fanfic #prompt fill #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction #no use of y/n #ask v!#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #sorry if this isnt angsty or smutty enough lmfao i wanted to just write something to spark the motivation to write again #also this was edited by me reading it once so if theres mistakes im sorry for that too lolol

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daffi-990 · 28 days

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🏙️

Tagged by @diazsdimples & @tizniz. Make sure to check out what they shared today! (and maybe send James a virtual hug or a stupid punny joke? He’s been sick for 3 weeks and I’m sure he could use some cheering up 😘)

I have been wanting so desperately to write the past few days but a cold has my sinuses putting so much pressure on my head I feel like it’s going to explode, plus it’s school holidays and it’s been raining so I’ve got two very energetic kids with cabin fever running around causing mayhem 😅.

BUT! I did manage to write a little something for LA Lonely so yay (even though it may not be great, at least it’s words)

Pre snippet here

Buck is woken up by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. The bed jostles, Buck letting out an annoyed grumble as the warm body that is wrapped around him disappears. There is a kiss pressed to his naked shoulder, a whispered apology and then the rustling of the blankets as the person leaves the bed, answering the phone with a quiet hello.

Rolling over to check the time, Buck’s surprised to see that it’s almost 9. Usually his body clock wakes him up at 7am everyday, whether he stayed up late or not, so sleep-ins are a rare thing. He rolls onto his back, groaning as he stretches his arms up above his head. There’s a slight ache in his ass but it’s a reminder of the fantastic sex he had last night and honestly, Buck doesn’t mind the discomfort.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, the wood creaking slightly and then the most attractive man Buck has ever laid eyes on is standing at the foot of his bed wearing nothing but underwear and a soft apologetic smile that has Buck’s tummy swooping.

Eddie.

The man’s name is Eddie, Buck remembers. And remember he should because he was moaning it loud enough last night.

Eddie has a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he picks up his jeans and begins to awkwardly shimmy them up his legs. “I told you, I overslept. But I’m getting ready now and can be there in —” he looks down at his wrist and frowns, his eyes sweeping over the discarded clothes on the floor before zeroing in on Buck’s second nightstand where a clunky watch sits. Eddie grabs the watch, quickly checking the time before he begins strapping it on. “I can be there in 20 minutes, 15 if the traffic is good.”

Buck feels a pang in his chest and then instantly chastises himself. This was just another hookup, a one night stand —nothing more than that. He was foolish to think that what he felt last night with Eddie was anything real. It was just the hormones.

Eddie may have stayed, but that was probably because he was hoping to get lucky again this morning. Or like Buck, he slept in and didn’t get a chance to sneak out before Buck woke up.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @wikiangela @athenagranted @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @goforkinard @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @dangerpronebuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @donationwayne @shitouttabuck @sunshinediaz @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @captain-hen @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @mellaithwen @missmagooglie and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag

#spoiler alert: Eddie would stay if he could but fatherhood calls and well that’s a call Eddie will always answer #daffi writes #wip: la lonely #Buck is being all self deprecating #but what else is new?#buddie wip #buddie #I really really want to finish Rival Firefighters so I can dive into my other wips #(and also post the first chapter for you guys!)#and I’m soooo close #but between the pounding head and the energetic munchkins .. I haven’t been able to keep the smutty writing beans going #though I have been on a bit of a little fic reading roll atm which is nice 😊#having to slow down and rest (more like being forced to by my husband haha) gives me time to go through my MARKED FOR LATER library #okay I’ve probably rambled way too much #hugs to everyone ❤️

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mandyloves2read · 1 year

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💜𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰💜

⠀

Twisted Abel by T.L. Hodel

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book was dark dirty and full of twisted humor and gore this was another on the edge of my seat ride and one I didn’t want off anytime soon! This was my introduction to this authors writing and I really enjoyed it! This duet was unique and so twisted but I couldn’t look away and I found myself rooting for the characters regardless of their behavior I was laughing while being shocked and fanning myself all in one!

⠀

Check your triggers before reading!

⠀

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐥 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟐), 𝐛𝐲 @tarahodel

🩸𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐙𝐨𝐧 → https://books2read.com/BB2zon

🩸𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐓𝐁𝐑 → https://bit.ly/BB2tbr

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛↓

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I may be a prince but I sure as hell didn't need no princess. I prefered to fly solo. There was no one but me and the blood and screams of my victims. I was a free agent.

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I was also bored as fuck.

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At least until I saw her. The beautiful blue and green eyed angel whose music sang to my soul. What I didn't expect was to be the hero in her story.

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Well shit... maybe I did need a princess after all?

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My mother used to tell me to close my eyes and the monster in my closet would disappear. Well I've had my eyes closed for awhile and the monster was still here. But the longer I sat in my cage watching Abel laugh at others pain and misery, the more I wondered if Hercules really was the hero?

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What about the hydra? Did anyone think of his friends and family? Who stayed behind to console them? Did anyone bother to talk to him first? And could one monster save me from another?

⠀

Even the villain of the story needed love, right?

⠀

𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿... 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴:

These books are very dark and contain several subjects that might be disturbing to some readers. For a full list of triggers, please reach out to the authors.

𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀?

🔪Dark captive MF romance

🩸Psychopath & sociopath

🔪Serial unalivers

🩸Blood-play

🔪Stalkers

#book review #romance books #romance blog #mandyloves2readbookreviews #mandyloves2read book blog #arc review #arcreader #steamyromance #darkromance #kindleunlimited #peachy keen #smutty reads #book reccs

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buckybarnesb-tch · 4 months

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Quote of the Day

You deserve the Love you read about

~Unknown

#books #booktok #dark romance books #smutty books #booklover #reading #bookblr #bookworm #bookdragon #bookish #book quotes #book quote #quoteoftheday

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arcielee · 1 year

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Hazy Shades of Spring

Summary: A professor runs into one of her students. Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 3483 Warnings: Nothing too spicy, so please don’t report. ♥ There will be a part 2 though for the smut. Author's Note: This is for the poll you all voted for. I hope you enjoy and a huge thank you to @sapphire-writes for your read over/feedback, your modern Aemond has definitely set the bar (for me anyway). Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon

It was the fourth walk-by from your waitress when you decided to request your bill and just accept that you, in fact, had been stood up.

You were single and freshly thirty and dating had seemingly become a monstrous thing to attempt. You kept your humor with dating apps, but you also held a mild regret that curled in your abdomen that you ended things with Cregan; as amicable a break-up as it was, you were beginning to believe that complacency might have been the best option.

Now you only had yourself to blame because you finally caved to the incessant needling of your colleague, Johanna Lannister, when she cornered you, again, and pressed her suggestion of a blind date with her husband’s brother.

“It’s his twin brother,” she added to her attempt to make her point. “So you know he’s handsome…”

Your nose involuntarily scrunched with her closing statement, but you decided to set aside your judgment and agreed to it, if anything to shut her up.

Numbers were exchanged and you texted back and forth a bit; he was amiable enough with some wit to him, though not enough to laugh out loud, but it was enough to agree to meet for dinner. The semester had ended and you had submitted your grades, allowing you several weeks of freedom before the spring semester would begin.

He suggested and seemed adamant about the new upscale restaurant that opened up downtown, which was an old theatre that had been purchased and repurposed for fine dining. When you arrived, its renovation was breathtaking: the inside arched upwards and there was a new mural of brilliant colors on the ceiling, with marble columns that led to a grand staircase and red carpeting that was a walkway over the polished floors.

You knew it would be ritzy and opted for a black, flitted dress that complimented your figure and cut off just above your knees, with tights that showed a definitive black seam centering the backside of your legs and a heel with a clasp. You removed your cardigan before you approached the hostess, checking your phone to see the text, running late, be there soon.

Your grip tightened on the phone, with a fleeting moment to retreat homeward but you had put effort into your look tonight and you ignored the call of comfort for a baggy shirt and sweats. Instead, you get a table and order a glass of red wine while you wait.

The time rolled away and your glass neared empty; you checked your phone to see that the courtesy text you sent to see if he was still alive had been left on read. It sends a bolt of vexation in your chest and you finish the wine; you were nettled by the inconsideration being shown by the damn Lannister twin.

An annoyed sigh leaves you and you can feel the pitied look of your waitress. “We do have a bar upstairs,” she offers with a small smile. “It isn’t as crowded as down here.”

Fuck it. You tip her well and decide to climb the grandiose staircase, to make most of your night out as well as escape the music and murmur of the dinner crowd. The lighting was not as harsh and you seated yourself at the end of the bar, ordering a second glass of wine and retrieving a small notepad you have tucked into your purse. “Do you have a pen?” You asked the bartender and he is polite enough to retrieve you one.

You allow the new scenery and your new muse, the feeling of absolute annoyance, to help create something for your editor; lost in your scribble and half a glass later, you are interrupted with a question.

“Professor?”

Your hand stilled on the glass stem, your grip so tight you would think it would crack under the pressure.

Living centrally downtown did mean you would often run into students, present and sometimes past. You knew you were not as old and dusty like some of the other professors, but you kept your reservation with social interactions, giving a tight smile when they acknowledged you and looked for a segue out of any pleasantries they attempted to exchange.

It wasn’t that you did not care for them, it’s just that you did not want to be reminded of your occupation outside of your working hours.

This voice was familiar, with a distinct, low hum from the chest.

Aemond Targaryen.

He was one of the top students at the university; he was never late with assignments, would always push for extra credit, and would meet any opinion with his own educated intellection, which often led to heated debates in business law.

In the beginning, you struggled with your prejudice when he entered your classroom; you noted his gait and composure, how he held himself with an eerie elegance as opposed to his brother and his frat boy persona. Aegon had been a handful, often showing up under the influence of something and once making a crude pass when he asked about extra credit.

You halted the attempt immediately and pushed him from your office; the thought of fraternizing with a student never crossed your mind.

That was until you had Aemond.

His family was known in King’s Landing, their family empire owning most of everything and their standing revered, with a hand in everything within city limits. Aegon only had passed your class, begrudgingly by you, due to the family’s repeated and generous donations to the university, though he hardly deserved the lowest grade you gave him.

It was why you were not surprised when Aemond followed the same academic route, as it was expected for him to get a business degree of some sort and contribute. He had a different drive than his brother, he was present and moved with a determination, some unforeseen drive that pushed him and it gave him an almost arrogant air.

The interactions you shared throughout the semester was a stark contrast to his stern demeanor; his voice was low and commanding, with a genuineness to his tone. He was never inappropriate and you found you actually enjoyed the interactions shared.

He is also so very handsome, you cannot help but admit to yourself, your cheeks flushed when you turned to see him standing and watching you.

Despite the scar that marred his face, a childhood accident was all he shared with you, his mien was still breathtaking. It was apparent he came from old money with the sapphire stone chosen to replace his missing eye and you could still see the gash that cut through from above his brow into the sharp contours of his face. His lips were curled, his head with a slight tilt as he peered at you. Tonight, he wore dark, fitted slacks and button up shirt, with a cashmere sweater and dress jacket. His silver chain peaked underneath his collar and his long, silver hair was not knotted back in his usual low, messy bun, but instead was draped over his broad shoulders.

“Oh, hello, Aemond, how nice to run into you,” you are quick to tuck the notepad back into your purse. “What brings you out tonight?”

He always had this damnable, perpetual smirk that played at his lips, like he is aware of the effect he has on you. Aemond moved to take the seat next to you and you notice how the bartender is quick to serve him a drink. “My father insisted I help my uncle with the grand opening,” he explained, touching the glass but not drinking it. “I am shadowing the ordeal.”

Of course they own this restaurant, your cheeks burning with the realization, but before you could excuse yourself, he instead asks, “You look lovely tonight. What brings you here?” He looks around, “Were you meeting with someone?”

You fidget with your glass, clearing your throat. “Um, I was supposed to meet for a date and…” you faltered on the lie prepared on your lips and instead admitted, “I was stood up.”

His expression is unreadable and he shrugs. “This seems to happen to the best of us,” and he finally lifts his glass to you. “Cheers to the best.”

You give a small smile and the cheers allow you to finish your drink. Aemond gestures for a refill, but you push to stand. “Thank you, but I should probably leave. You are a student, I’m your professor…”

“The semester is over,” his voice is low, his expression almost amused and you note how his eye takes in your form when you stand up. You pull your cardigan on, but it does little to cover your black dress and you burn from his steady gaze. “I’m hardly a student, except for a few filler courses this spring, but then I will be done. And besides, I already turned in my paper and you, actually, already submitted my grade.”

“Oh, did I?” Of course I fucking did.

Aemond hummed. “Yes, in fact. I appreciate the good score.”

The bartender rests the new glass in front of you and you lift it, “Well, it was well earned. And cheers, then, to the semester ending and good grades.”

The soft plink of glass and you see his perpetual smirk playing on his lips again. “You do look lovely tonight and I am obligated to be here. Enjoy your glass of wine and keep me company until it’s finished.”

Since you had not eaten and were on your third glass of wine, it makes you agreeable to accept his company; you know your cheeks are rosy as you are swept up into conversation with him. Aemond always had a wit that would make you laugh, or maybe it was the wine, but either way you found you were enjoying yourself.

With your third glass almost gone, your eyes catch sight of the cigarette case he placed on the bartop; the embossed design glinted under the lighting. “It’s a family insignia,” he explains, pushing it towards you.

You pick it up, your finger trailing the dragon design. “This is in the mural in the lobby,” you muss and he nods. There is a satisfying click when you open it and the waft of cinnamon reaches your nose, which crinkles with your smile. “Clove cigarettes?” You cannot help but giggle with the discovery.

He narrows his gaze on you, but his lips are still curled upwards as he leans over to take it from your hands. “It is my guilty pleasure, a treat when the semester ends,” he closes it.

“We all deserve a guilty pleasure,” you agree, your attention falling to the empty glass in front of you. “I will have to ask for one, though,” you gestured towards the case. “I feel I need to indulge just a bit more, on this night in particular.”

Aemond stands up and pulls your chair back, his hand offered to you so you can find your balance on your heels. You look up at him through your eyelashes and notice that even with your heel, he is taller still.

He is gentle to take your hand in his own, his other hand on your lower back to guide you as you weave through the few patrons and staff. You eventually slip through a threshold that leads out to a secluded balcony that is decorated with lights, giving a golden hue.

With the approach of spring, the night air is crisp and you wrap your arms around yourself and your thin cardigan. “Oh, this view,” you cannot help but smile, despite your shiver.

Aemond hums his agreement, pulling off his dress jacket and handing it to you. You try to decline, but he insists, “I run warm. It’s a family trait.”

You pull it on, engulfed in the fine fabric and his scent, a mixture of clean laundry with an expensive cologne. He walked towards the ornate balustrade that stems around the balcony and leaned his elbows on top; you followed him, the soft clicks of your heels on the stone and rested on his visible side, peering out towards King’s Landing.

He pulled out the case and retrieved a black clove cigarette, lighting it and passing it to you, smoke pouring from his smile as your fingertips touch to take it. The drag is a mixture of the best and worst feeling; you allow your exhale to snake over your features and lick your lips to taste the cinnamon on them. “I haven’t had one of these,” you blush again. “It has been a while, but thank you, this is just what I wanted.”

You watch him pull another and balance it between his lips. Wordless, you tuck yours into the corner of your mouth and place your hands to cup the flame as he lights it. With his exhale, he says, “Thank you.”

The silence allows a moment to enjoy the city bustle below, but the sound of him clearing his throat brings you back to the balcony. “What about you?” You tilt your head to look at him, your brow quirked and he clarifies, “I had answered your questions and shared about my interests outside of my degree, but what about you and your passions?”

You take another drag to mull over your reply. “Perhaps teaching is my passion,” you reply, your brow raised at him.

He hums a moment. “I don’t think so,” his voice is so low that you need to turn to hear him, facing him and leaning one elbow on the bannister. His brow is cocked and his perpetual smirk playing on his lips. “I saw passion when you were focused on your notebook earlier, you had a glow with your penning.” Aemond blows the smoke above his head, “You do not have that same expression with your lectures.”

You turn away and focus straight ahead, hoping the city lights would wash away the embarrassment that rushed to your cheeks. He makes almost an aha noise and steps closer towards you, peering at you. “I am correct about your passion outside of your teaching,” his tone is teasing.

“Well, yes,” your mind is buzzing from the wine, the cigarette amplifying it ever-so-slightly. He graduates after the spring, you reason and then decide to share, “I enjoy writing.”

This confession breaks the levy and your passion spills as you babble about your love for science fiction and how your interests were piqued by the classics like Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut, plus his pseudonym. Then you stop, your hand covering your mouth. “Sorry, I am rambling,” you blush again.

“It’s cute,” he encourages. “Please, continue.”

You sigh. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to add. Science fiction does not have the same audience it once did and it definitely isn’t what sells as far as digital books,” you finish with a grim smile. “What sells then?”

You focus your eyes on him and cannot stop the fit of giggles that spill from your lips; he peers at you, his cheeks dimpling with a pursed smile of his own. “Smut, mostly,” you confess and he chuckles. “It is all,” you wave your hand flippantly, “porn with plot and I happen to have a knack for it. Plus, I am very fond of the residual income from my sales,” you finish your cigarette.

“A knack for it?” His tone is still low and he flicks his own cigarette over the edge. “Like, the ability to incorporate it into any situation…?”

“I mean, within reason,” you are unable to hold his gaze, feeling almost childish in his large jacket, your fingertips playing with the button stance. “It depends on the ratio of porn to plot, really. It kind of comes down to a science with the method.”

“Oh?” He sounds amused and shifts himself, edging closer still, his gaze still locked on your face. “Enlighten me.”

“Well,” you hem for your words, your wine-addled brain unable to stop them from leaving your mouth. “Obviously, as a writer, you wish to set the scene for your reader, the build-up to the moment, but you also don’t want clutter it so much when they are obviously looking for one thing-”

Your words are stopped by the soft press of his lips to your own, his hands covering your hold on his jacket and bringing you against his chest. Your eyes widen for a moment before you relax against him, enjoying his taste, the mixture of clove cinnamon, smoke, and whatever whiskey he had at the bar.

His large hands move to your hips, pulling you closer with a soft squeeze and you moan into the kiss, your fingers curling around the back of his neck and tangling in his hair. Aemond presses against you and your back against the bannister; you can feel him through his dress slacks, your own body betraying you by the warmth pooling between your thighs.

“Wait, wait,” you break the kiss, your eyes wide again and looking him over.

The pupil of his eye is blown, almost black with his stare, and his lips curl upwards. “We should do this somewhere else,” he suggests, his tone velvet. “Take me home?”

You bite your bottom lip with your pregnant pause before nodding. You feel his finger curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to meet with his gaze. “I require verbal consent,” his tone still teasing you.

“Yes,” you say, your cheeks are red, and his usual stoic expression brightens slightly. He takes your hand into his and you follow, Aemond pulling his phone and texting, his grasp tight as he helps you down the stairs. You avoid the looks of the staff and follow him to exit the restaurant.

Out front is some black luxury car idling and Aemond moved to open the door for you, helping you seat yourself before closing the door and walking to the other side. Your eyes burn into the back of the driver’s seat, who turns and offers a smile, asking for your address before he closes the partition.

You can feel the shift in the back seat as Aemond sits next to you, his expression unreadable once again. A beat of silence follows as the car begins to drive and only then does your liquid courage take its hold. You reach to pull him towards you and his mouth finds yours. His lips are so soft, so warm against your own, his tongue moving into your mouth and yours meeting with his languid movements to continue to taste him.

He pulls you to straddle his lap, your dress bunching around your hips and his large palms are warm as they grab into the softness of your thighs, pulling you slow to grind against the growing bulge of his pants. A soft moan spills from your lips with the pressure and his mouth falls to your chest, his tongue following your clavicle and closing on the junction of your shoulder to your neck. You mewl when you feel his teeth bite into you, moving your hips against him which elicited a guttural groan from the back of his throat.

You had forgotten how much fun kissing could be, the intimacy of hands pawing with purpose and the soft pants from the passion. The car stops and when you realize it is parked in front of your apartment building; you break the kiss and fall into your seat, your hands moving to righten your skirt.

Another beat of silence follows and he finally says, “Is this your place?” His voice is gentle.

You nod your head yes, you mind whirring with what had unfolded this evening and your eyes falling to his hands; you watched his slender fingers slowly drum the leather seat between before moving to palm your hand, his thumb gentle to run the length of your knuckles and back. “Nothing more needs to happen,” he offered you an escape. “But could I ask for a kiss goodnight?”

Your eyes lock onto his, your tongue wetting your lips and leaning to find his mouth once more. His lips fit so perfect against your own, his tongue trailing your bottom lip with a soft nip before he pulls back.

You open the car door and climb out, hearing him shift in his seat to lean forward. “Goodnight, professor-”

But you turn on your heel, leaning over and well aware of your cleavage in this little black dress you wore tonight. “Aemond,” your eyes rest on his face, your cheeks growing warm once again. “Would you like to come up?”

With the familiar curl of his lips, he tells the driver to go home. He pulled himself from his seat and reached again for your hand. Your cheeks burn with the feeling of how your hand fits in his own and you lead him inside.

#hazy shades of spring #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #modern aemond #there will be a part 2 #for the smutty stuff #thanks for reading #♥

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