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#this was supposed to be under a read more but alas
chrollohearttags · 9 months
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fuck me like you hate me • eren jaeger x black fem reader
I know I said I hate seeing my babies fight but I’m tweaking over the idea of some nasty ass, filthy hate sex between eren and (y/n). Like imagine they’ve just moved in together, adjusting to living with another person and they have been walking around mad as hell at each other over dumb shit around the house and from work (him ignoring her for recording sessions and her on Instagram showing a lil too much for his liking). The tension is CRAZY. It explodes into a huge argument..they think about breaking up but instead, fuck their frustrations out, I—😫😫
content warning: very ROUGH sex, name calling, use of N-word (by reader obv) degradation, hitting, spit play, oral sex, fingering, backshots, slapping, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, implied dacryphilia,breeding, marking and spanking, riding, .2 seconds of switch eren, bunch of other shit omg just proceed with caution, does have a really happy ending and lots of aftercare 🥹
word count: 8.3K
📝: and forewarning before anybody can come leave a dumbass comment, this isn’t in support or condoning of toxic relationships, fighting, domestic altercations/violence, etc. and this will be my very first and last time writing something of this degree. Also, this is purely fiction and all of these aforementioned topics will only be slightly touched on without graphic detail, as they can be extremely triggering and sensitive. Again, read this at your own discretion! (And keep it very cute)
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“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut the fuck up..you want to post everything, let’s post this.”
the words spewed like venom from between your boyfriend’s lips. Much like the many times that he called you baby, princess..or said ‘I love you’. But lately, things had been a little less affectionate around the Jaeger household. It had only been six months since the two of you had moved in together. Taking your newly public relationship to the next level and committing to one another. It was supposed to be a joyous time yet it was the exact opposite! As of late, particularly in the past few weeks, the two of you had been at odds and each other’s throats to say the least. The anger constantly building and only becoming worse by the minute. So much so, the both of you had questioned if living under the same roof was a wise option and even more so, contemplated splitting up..but alas, it seems you found a better solution:
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet, baby.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
the whole situation arose not too long ago, stemming from the fact that he had been working nonstop on new projects. As happy as you were that he was back into his groove, you were sick of being ignored and neglected for a damn album. Shelved and discarded like nothing more than a toy. It was infuriating, especially when you went out of your way after your own gigs and busy schedule to cook him dinner and make him snacks; even trying to surprise the man with a few little..outtakes and teasers from your photo shoots. Preferably the ones where you were nude or playing with yourself. Did he pay them any attention? Hell no. In retaliation, you decided you’d give him a taste of his own medicine..by blocking him on Instagram and purposely posting some rather wild shit. Such as you practically tongue kissing your homegirl as you guys took shots at the pool. Or twerking in a new fit normally worn by dancers and sex workers…it didn’t help matters any when he had to see the sultry posts by proxy from one of his friends, who shared it with him while at the studio one night and when he confronted you about it, you could care less. Saying that maybe someone else would appreciate it if he didn’t. Which had him completely irate and the situation escalated further than it ever should have. But this festering fire of resentment didn’t just boil over today. This had been due to weeks worth of rising frustrations. Eren felt as if he had worked to curate his sanctuary and you were destroying that and you were pissed that he agreed to you living together when he obviously didn’t even want you there. But it all came to a head only a couple hours ago..
flashback
the two of you standing in the bedroom, arguing and going at each other’s throats. Shouting and screaming..it was a situation you promised you’d never find yourself in after your ex and today, you’d had enough. You were ready to leave..call it quits on this entire thing because you refused to be in another toxic relationship. Especially when you cared so deeply for this man. But no amount of love could make you stay in this.
“You won’t even tell me why the fuck you’re so mad! Walking around with a fucking attitude and I’m supposed to read your goddamn mind?! Be serious!”
“Nigga, I shouldn’t have to tell you shit! I waited on you for three hours, Eren! Three motherfucking hours..got dressed, done my hair and everything and you fucking stand me up like my time ain’t worth shit. You don’t give a damn about anybody or anything except that stupid ass music.”
needless to say, tensions were high…you were both angry and it was probably best if you guys stepped away and gave yourselves time to reevaluate the situation but instead, you were running on fumes and pure fire. Only making matters worse. Thank goodness no housekeeping staff was around to hear this altercation because you guys would probably be on the front page of TMZ. Either way, neither of you cared. Right now, you just wanted to vent and get your peace out before the other could. “You mean the same music that’s paying your bills? That’s buying you those fucking purses and hair? Surely, you’re not complaining about that. You damn sure don’t when you wanna spend the money.”
making your blood boil with rage and your eyes well with tears. “You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your money or nobody else’s. The fuck you think this is? I got my own shit. While you were laid up in the motherfucking suburbs, I was getting to this shit long before I got famous and damn sure before I met you..if you don’t want me here then say that.” But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot and neither were you…no one wanted to admit they were in the wrong. “No (y/n). I want you to understand that I got business to handle. That I have obligations and if my boys gotta come tell me you’re out here kissing on bitches and entertaining other guys while I’m working then you go wherever you want. I’ve never chased anybody in my life and I damn sure won’t start now. Especially somebody who runs to the internet when they’re mad. Childish as fuck and no woman of mine is gonna have me out here looking stupid. Go be with whoever’s making you happy because it’s obviously not me. Hell, maybe you can work things out with your fuck ass ex since he won’t stop talking about you in his songs. I told you it was a bad idea for us to move in together right now but you just had to. Now look.” The words cutting like a knife clean through butter. Stabbing you in the heart with his hurtful words…you thought this was what he wanted as well and to find out that yet again, you were just another chore like everything else in his life, you were gutted. Not only that, he’d bring up your ex as if that relationship didn’t come along with emotional damage and physical scars. He knew how much of a sensitive topic that was for you and yet, when Eren got angry, he had a tendency to hit below the belt and do so without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. With tears in your eyes, unable to hold them back, you’d begin screaming all over again, hitting his chest and trying to take out all your anger on him. Even as you slammed your fists against him, screaming that you hated him and slapping his cheek, he stood there unfazed. He knew your words were from a place of hurt and your actions were not the real you. You’d never raise your hand at him because you knew what that felt like. But feeling as if he didn’t care, you were distraught! So much so, you’d become blind with rage and act out of a place you promised to never go to.
“I fucking hate you, Eren! Swear to fucking God, bro!—all you do is make me feel like shit. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was leave me alone!” Shouting as you swing your closed fists at his chest, banging on him and wailing as you cry. Screaming and shouting to the top of your lungs.
it was by that point, he’d had enough of being your punching bag. Looking away from you, he’d grasp your wrists, stopping you in your tracks and that only enraged you more. “Let me go, Eren! I’m not playing with you!” Alas, he didn’t say a word though. He didn’t even so much as look at you..staring through you like glass; just holding your hands in place to avoid your hits. Instead, he’d push you to the mattress and pin you back by your wrists. “Don’t put your fucking hands on me, I’m not repeating myself..I don’t play that shit, (y/n). Do it again and we’re done.” grimacing his teeth and leaning down against your face. He was a firm believer that if a relationship ever got physical, it was time to end it. He could never bring himself to put his hands on you, even entertain the thought of it so he wasn’t about to let you disrespect him and do the same. But your rage could not be quelled and instead, you’d start to kick around until he’d bolt your legs down as well. Staring at him like this…hair down, beard and mustache forming on his face, you could tell he hadn’t been himself either and right now, there was a far more primal energy about him. Energy that seemed like it could devour your ass alive if you pushed one more button. “Or what? The fuck you gon’ do? Pussy.” And in that moment, you’d find out just what he had in mind when you decided to spit at his face and in retaliation, he’d only laugh..much more than he should've..right before putting his hand around your throat, clutching it so tight that it causes you to gasp. Restricting your breathing in the process. Which forced your mouth open and allowed him to return it with his own saliva, seeping onto your tongue. With his knee placed between your thigh, brushing against that thinly clothed cunt, he knew you were wet..getting turned on for him even now. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Feeding you a couple slaps to your cheek as you begin to realize the gravity of the situation. “Answer me, bitch. You like spitting so much, I got something for you to use it on.” Suddenly, he’d begin to lean up, tugging at the top of your head next to adjust to eye level with his erection. With one fell swoop from his thumb, he’d tug his sweats down and right before you was his thick cock, standing at full attention. He didn’t want to feel your hands..nothing but straight mouth and throat and right now, he’d guide you as he saw fit. You were his toy right now…shoving that dick between your lips, he’d start to fuck that pretty, tear stained face like it was nothing more than a sleeve. He could hear the gurgling in the back of your throat and feel how hard you were trying but since you had so much to say, he was going to make sure you ate those words.
“What’s that, baby? Can’t hear you..” mocking you as he used your mouth to his heart's content. Balls slapping your chin and jaws suctioned around his shaft. You’d attempt to put your hands up to his hips but he’d slap you and make certain you’d never do so again. Sucking his teeth, Eren laughed as he watched you struggle to engulf all eight and a half inches of that thick girth. “Can’t pop all that shit with my dick in your throat, can you?” Asking rhetorically but he wasn’t done rubbing salt in the wound..you had truly and utterly pissed him off and for the last time. In haste timing, he’d retract from your mouth only momentarily to the sound of you taking sharp gasps and drooling all over yourself. He’d force your head to the edge of the bed, where he’d crawl over and continue his brutal face fucking. But not before he spat in that oral cavity once more, looking at you as if you were nothing more than an object. Bucking his hips and thrusting as if it were an inanimate toy lying in front of him. Your insides were matching the sensation of that of a flesh light, maybe even better. By the time he got into it, a bulge began to form in the center of your esophagus. And try as you might to swat at him, he’d tell you to place your arms by your side and not move them until he stated otherwise.
“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re messing with, princess. I don’t know which bum you’re used to fucking but don’t you ever try that shit with me again. There’s a reason I said I don’t chase anyone. Why would I when I know I’ll have you crawling right back?” and he was right! This man had done things to you that would have any woman stalking him and sitting in his bushes. Even so, you were still pissed off and not much in the way of taking his shit lying down. So as he twitched slightly in your throat, you’d begin to gurgle and gag on his dick, doing tricks to inevitably make him tap out. Grasping the top of your head, he’d tug his shaft from between your lips and spin you around until you were flat on your stomach, and glaring up at his face as he gripped your chin. “You can fuck half the guys in the game and not one of them would ever make you feel the way I would. That pussy will always belong to me. Stop pretending you don’t know that.” His words were so condescending, it made you want to scream but you couldn’t disagree either. Eren always had a nasty habit of playing on people’s psyche and getting under their skin with his words. He was the type to read someone down and not miss a beat. When he was angry, nothing or no one was off limits. Tears were already streaming from your eyes and throat already sore from his brutal handling but he didn’t care. “So I’ve got a great idea…” looking straight past you, he’d extend an arm and lay a heavy handed slap across your backside, still tugging at your hair without any sort of regard for it. “We’re not leaving this room until you and I fix this.” He’d take a moment to clutch his other fist around his cock; tapping it against your tongue, which was hanging out. “Until I fuck you so stupid, you forget what you were so mad about. How’s that sound?” Patting your cheek and inflicting sharp slaps to your ass, causing stinging pain. Along with sensations to your pussy. Proving his words to be true.
Trails of saliva pooled..dribbling from your mouth. Gagging noises constantly arising and filling the room as he relentlessly and disrespectfully fucked that pretty face. At the same time, he’d reach forward so that he could slide two digits inside of inviting heat. Pushing those fingers in and out at an intermediate pace. He’d rub on the sensitive bud with his thumb and pump the other two profusely. You’d slowly start to rut yourself on them, unable to resist him for much longer. “There you go…good girl. I swear, you’re so much prettier like this. Sucking my dick instead of bitching…” he couldn’t help but to fling one more insult in there but trust, he preferred this to arguing any day. Any frustrations the two of you had could be left right here! Continuing to relentlessly fuck your face, Eren teased your little cunt for two reasons: one, because you couldn’t help but to whimper and the sensations caused your throat to spasm and two, he was preparing you for how bad he was going to beat that pussy up. When he finished, you wouldn’t have the energy to move, less known scream at him. He was tired of being at odds with the woman he loved. All too well did he know the pain of practically living with a stranger he felt nothing for and he refused for you guys to turn out the same way. Too many laughs, so much love had been shared between you two for it to end now..
amid disassociating, EJ withdrew his fingers and fat cock from between your lips before telling you to lie on your back. “Spread those legs..” Earning him a side eye from you as those thighs parted to reveal that dripping center. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, aren’t you? Admit it.” Plump lips that were freshly waxed and soaking wet, just for him. There was no one else in this world that could get you so undeniably aroused and you both knew it. Raking his fingers through those long, thick locks, he’d crawl on to the bed; knees pushing through the mattress as he grasped your ankle and tugged you towards him. In that same, swift motion..you’d find your legs pinned back to the covers and feet practically behind your head. “She missed me, didn’t she?” That smug look on his features as he so casually stroked the hood of your clit. He wanted nothing else from you than to wet that beard up. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t as infuriated as you once were and that fiery spark had dwindled to a twinkle of adoration. But if he knew one thing about you..it was that you’d play coy until you couldn’t any longer. You’d fake an orgasm, pretend to not be turned on. Anything to make him feel inferior. Because you’d try everything to deny him that satisfaction of pleasuring you. You were stubborn, yes but far more aroused..too much to hide it, in fact.
“No, and I didn’t eith—ahh fuck!” Your mouth left agape as he shoved a digit inside and let one rest dormantly on the clit. “Exactly as I thought. Shut the fuck up.” Sitting down entirely, he’d keep your legs pinned back in one hand, as it was nothing with his strength. With all his pent up energy and frustration he’d normally use to fuck you dumb, he had been putting towards intense workouts the past few weeks. Trying to find a way to channel that anger in a healthy way to avoid doing something dumb. Working those two fingers in and out, pumping slowly..Eren made certain you were looking him in the eyes as he maneuvered that little cunt with the delicacy of his hand. Pumping and rubbing in a fluid motion as if it were second nature. Taking you gently by the back of the head, he’d hold you up and let you watch him work. “Shit—I’m not gonna come. If that’s what you want.” “You’re so cute, thinking you have a choice in the matter. Like I said, we’re not leaving until we fix this. So you can drop the fucking act.” Amid his declaration, he’d look you dead in the eye, peering right about your stomach and spit onto your pussy. Disrespectful and raunchy about it as well. He had no regard for you as his girl or even a person right now. You were an object..his little slut he was going to break and mold as he saw fit. “Take your eyes off of me again and I swear to God, you won’t get to come at all. You really don’t want to test me right now.” And something told you, every word seeping from his mouth was a pure fact. This man’s forms of punishment were hellish. One time, you made him so mad, that he fucked you for an hour straight, using a combination of various toys and his cock until you were in tears and refused to let you climax once. No matter how many times he stuffed you or nutted himself. By the time he granted you permission, it was like releasing the pressure on a tightly coiled spring and you nearly collapsed from the intense pressure.
so reluctantly, you’d bat those big brown eyes and fluttery lashes as you watched your man devour that tasty little center. Those jade eyes fixated on you; akin to a shark lying in wait just above sea level..stalking its prey. All you could hear were smacking, slurping and faint moans but what you felt were sensations of pure bliss. Slick had begun to coat the tip of his nose as he nuzzled it between your slit. His tongue lapped up every remnant of those syrup like fluids..sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. This man ate pussy like his life was on the line and it’d only be a matter of time before he had you as putty in his hands once more. Eventually, Eren would snake his palms up to your own and clasp them together, intertwining those fingers once he removed them, so that you two were holding hands. A level of intimacy that he only showed to someone he cared about. It was blatantly obvious that he still loved you..regardless of how angry you were. Especially when you heard him moaning and sucking on your clit, which inevitably made you melt in his grasp. “Mmmmph..fuck.” Whimpering so softly and slowly rutting yourself against his tongue. “That’s it..fuck my face, baby. Real slow.” The deep rumble in his voice makes you melt even now. Even when you were just screaming at him. Suddenly, your breath would hitch and he’d cause another pang of pleasure to rip through your body. His tongue flickered all throughout your folds and he’d leave gentle kisses on those lower lips. That’s when you felt more saliva on your quivering cunt, combining with your own sweet juices. Those eyes were beginning to cross, toes curling as they rested on his shoulders and that little hole, leaking like a faucet. “You taste so good…and I know it feels even better. Look at the way that shit’s leaking f’r me. Can’t even deny it..” As enjoyable as it was eating you out and normally, he’d stay down there forever, taking in your essence and flavor but for right now..he had to fuck the shit out of you!
suddenly, you’d feel that incredible oral come to an abrupt halt and Eren rising to his feet. Keeping that grasp on your thighs, he’d land a heavy handed smack to your ass and tell you to take hold of your legs now..as he had plans. “Keep that shit open. Hold them.” Demanding as he hovered above you..hand wrapped around his shaft; slowly pumping up from the base. Between using your throat earlier and eating you out, that dick was throbbing and thumping. He needed to be inside of you immediately or he was going to burst. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. You were a puddle of dripping sex and arousal for him. With your panties dangling around your ankles and tank top pulled down, he tugged them off and stuffed the thin material into your mouth. He couldn’t lie..it looked so hot seeing you in such a vulnerable state. But you were going to need it for how hard he was about to pound your pussy. Glaring at you with a smug smirk, he’d place a hand into the center of your belly before easing his cock inside of you..which elicited a heavy grunt arising from his throat.
staring into your eyes, he’d start out with sharp, deep strokes. Ones that didn’t even allow you to adjust to before that cock began to curve up and kiss the inner corner of your cervix. His pace was already rough and somewhat sped up. He didn’t care about your feelings or how it felt. The only thing he wanted to see was a mess made of him. Whimpering through muffled lips, your head would slightly tilt back, along with those watering eyes as your skin collided; sounds of clapping flesh filling the room. It was then that you’d feel his hand creep up to the center of your scalp, tugging you down so that you were forced to see him bulging through your skin so early on.
“Take this dick. C’mon..” never breaking eye contact as he continued thrusting. His hips bucking and moving in a rhythmic motion. He had no regard for any part of you right now..you were merely a hole, a vessel for his pleasure and that was it. That smug grin on his face gave it away.. “fuck!..so deep—g’ahh..why are you fucking me like this? Shit!“ belting out in a shaky whimper through the gag of those panties as you clawed through your own skin with your fingers and palms planted to the backs of your thighs. You’d bite down on them in an attempt to quell that sensation. Feeding you yet another slap, Eren proceeded to take that comfort away by pulling it out and shoving those same fingers into your mouth. “Fucking shame it had to be like this, baby. But you asked for it. Shouldn’t have pissed me off.” Even with sweat trickling down his forehead and very obvious moans escaping his lips, he was still cocky and arrogant to a fault. Even if the grip of that fat cunt swallowing him as he slid in and out had him faltering, he’d never be so weak as to show it..not at a time like this at least. Slamming that cock balls deep; your pelvises clashing with a sheath of creamy fluid molding them together, Eren leaned all the way forward and pressed his entire body weight against you..as some sort of makeshift mating press. Your eyes locked and his lips pressing to yours.
“But imma make sure you don’t have shit else to say when I’m done.” Laughing with all faith and confidence that he could magically make this all go away. However, you were still in a bit of a confrontational mood and decided to challenge him.
“Is that right? Well shut me the fuck up then. Make me be quiet.” With that all too familiar glare in those gorgeous brown eyes of yours. The one that you gave him when you needed some act right..the one that screamed for him to do his worst. “You think your dick’s that good? Please, you don’t know what to do wi—“ Luckily, he was up for the task and you had a rude awakening coming. Snickering, Eren pulled himself up by only an inch, still letting you pop your shit and all; just enough to allow him the room to place his hand around your throat and squeeze until your tongue was hanging out. Meanwhile, his stroke had slowed to a more sporadic pace; thrusts becoming far more uneven and short, yet everyone hit your spot with precision. All the while, his jade eyes never left your own. Suddenly, he’d make good on your declaration and before you knew it…
“Well that was easy enough..what’s the matter, princess? Cat got that tongue? You were so loud earlier..cussing and yelling at me like you’ve lost your fucking mind. Where’s all that energy now? Hmm?”
suddenly, the bed would begin to jolt around..headboard slamming against the wall and the entire frame shifting under the weight of his hard thrusting. Taunting and fucking as if he were attempting to put you through the mattress! Couldn’t support your own legs anymore? No problem because all one hundred ninety five pounds of him kept you in place whilst that third leg of his drilled into your tightness, facing zero regard for the way you were shaking underneath him. The way you pawed at his six pack only to be slapped away so viciously and your jaws to be squeezed in his clutch. “Move your hand!” You couldn’t get so much as a gasp out as he continued pounding your little sex with all of his might. Cream was profusely leaking..practically dripping down that dick and sack as he kept going. Your titties were swaying around outside of that tank top, bouncing everywhere and looking so good, all for his viewing pleasure. In addition to that expression on your face as you were obviously nearing your climatic peak. He found it so funny how quickly that shift came once he got up in it.
“That’s fine. I don’t need you to do shit else but nut on this fucking dick. You can handle that, can’t you?”
you didn’t want to cave..give him the sheer satisfaction of seeing you submit but you’d be a bold face liar if you said that shit didn’t feel amazing. Especially with that hand around your neck and that thumb on your clit..stroking so gently that the minute bundle of sensitive nerves were already overstimulated. That swollen little bud twitching underneath the touch. It didn’t help matters any when he allowed a slow string of saliva to trickle down onto it either. It was blatantly obvious that you were trying to deny him that orgasm and in turn, prompt him to come instead by clamping down on his shaft but in that same breath, it was clear that his resolve was a little stronger than yours. You always had a habit of nutting quickly which would be your downfall right now.
“You can try to hold back all you want, baby but you will come f’r me. I don’t give a damn how long it takes…stubborn ass always wants to make things difficult, I swear.”
so casually pointing out one of your character flaws as he resides in your guts..something only he would do.
“Ah!—haaaaaa..fuck! Fuck you..still a pussy.”
blurting out with all the strength you could muster, along with still attempting to push him away which was, again, of no use! Instead, it only fueled him further and lengthened your punishment. Reaching down for those panties you had spat out previously, he’d rope them around your wrists and bind your hands together. It was obvious he wasn’t fond of your disrespectful outbursts or foul mouth. It was going to make it all the more fun to wreck you however!
“Yeah and you're still a dumb slut. ‘Fuck did you think this was?”
still impaling you on that cock and feeding you more slaps in the process. You were folding and fast but you’d try to maintain the little semblance of control you had but sadly, it was dwindling and before long, you’d be unable to hold back. And that moment came a tad bit too soon for your liking because only a minute later, you were gasping for breath, wrinkling around in the sheets..a stream of sticky fluids squirting all over those abs as if you had sprang a leak. It went everywhere; wetting up his six pack and pelvis, absolutely flooding the bed but he didn’t care. That’s exactly what he wanted. To see you shaking and convulsing, so needy and dependent on his cock that you couldn’t function without him. And he was well on his way to achieving that with the way he just fucked the shit out of you. It was such a powerful orgasm that you’d begin to shed tears; overstimulated from attempting to edge yourself and failing miserably. You lacked the restraint for that sort of thing but it presented the perfect teaching opportunity as he was in the mood to train you anyways on what being disobedient got you. Pulling out for a split second, he’d allow that swollen shaft and seeping mushroom tip to flap against your folds and drum out more. You were inconsolable but the worst was yet to come. Grabbing you by your hair, he’d grasp it tightly whilst hissing and chuckling in your ear.
“I break brats like you for fun, baby. Remember that.”
before kissing your temple in the most condescending way; it was true, he was the literal definition of a brat tamer and done so with pride. In another sudden movement, he’d tug you by that freshly done hair that wasn’t so fresh anymore and pull you down until he had flipped you over onto your stomach. Keeping you reigned in with that fistful of 613 wavy; dyed and toned to a deeper blonde, Eren planted a heavy hand smack to your ass as he flayed you across his lap. Demanding that you arch your back and put your ass up in the air. It was in your best interest to follow instructions but you were dead set on being defiant. If for nothing else, get the treatment you had been so desperately craving. For him to fuck that attitude out of you!
“Lemme ask you something, baby. What did you really think was going to happen when you decided to pull that little stunt? Trying to embarrass me?…”
ensuring that you had no other choice but to look him in the eye with those fingers still intertwined between your locks as he tugged your head back. You were practically panting, drooling like the fucked out little whore you were. Mouth agape and eyes glazed over whilst he stared at you.
“What? You thought I was going to ignore that shit? Or maybe you thought I’d get jealous enough to hop online and clear it up. You thought I was the rest of these lame ass dudes. You’re as stupid as you are pretty.”
Uttering the last line with vitriol before landing the hardest slap to your backside he could muster. Spanking you a couple times with the same force until you were flailing around and more tears had fallen. You were gritting your teeth, trying to maintain that mean glare you were trying so desperately to portray to make it seem as if you were not enjoying yourself. But he knew that was a lie. His heavy hands colliding with your flesh eventually began to form a burgundy blip and quite the sting. In addition to being choked, you were starting to feel it. That pleasurable pain that came with rough sex. It was the only way he could get his frustrations out on you at this point because actual harm would never be an option for him. He just wanted to teach you a lesson..
“And you’re still acting like a bitch. Mad about a lil’ instagram story—“
blurting out before he began to spank you again and clutch your throat as well. This time with enough force to make you squirm and cry some more. Making sure you didn’t talk out of turn again. “Shut the fuck up.”
he could tell you were still angry with him, still wanting to get your point across but that was all of no concern to him. He didn’t care about your bratty ass attitude. It barely even phased him. That was until he saw those pretty little streaks coming down your face and those eyes all puffy. That jaw clenched so tight, it’d probably shatter your teeth. “Ooh..don’t look at me like that. Makes my dick hard when you cry for me.” Like a true goddamn sadist…of course, those tears weren’t enough and he had plans to drum out more. Continuing to paddle you with his hand; releasing primal grunts as he spread your ass apart, kneading his fingers into your flesh and even shove his fingers back into your pussy. Meanwhile, he was still filling your mouth with sloppy kisses and more saliva. Spitting into your oral cavity with no regard. “Get up..arch that back and spread that ass open. Now.” And this time, too sore and weak to do anything else, you’d follow suit and place both hands on that round bottom, letting your acrylic nails display across that dark skin as you opened up for him. He damn near lost his composure when he saw that asshole flexing and puckering on instinct. But he had to regroup, get back into his zone and keep going.
mounting behind you, Eren hooked his fingers together, kept them around your throat and pulled you back on him once again..impaling you.
“Haaa! Fuck!—“ yelping in a high pitched cry as he fed you heavy backshots. The fat of that round, plump ass bouncing against him. Ricocheting in a haze of thunderous claps. Your legs trembled profusely, gripping on the pillows in front of you and biting down in an attempt to quell the brunt of those brutal strokes but it was no use. The curvature of your spine fluctuated as he kept going until you eventually collapsed underneath the weight and he’d bog down, planking over your entire frame as he drilled deeper. Those balls colliding with your ass and smacking against the sticky folds between your thighs. He’d place a hand to the small of your back just to keep you planted firmly whilst the other rested palm down in the memory foam material in front of you. “Oh my gosh, right there!” You’d grasp for Eren’s wrist as some sort of leverage and a sign of comfort. But he wasn’t much in the business of coddling you right now. Instead, you’d watch that opposite hand snake around for a split second to retrieve your phone that was lying next to you..set ablaze with thousands of notifications from this app and that contact. None of which were important at the moment. But he had other plans and ways to use that cellular device right now.
“You love taking pictures so much, right baby? Always showing off..”
just then, you’d see the flash of your rear camera beaming down above you and hear the sound of your video starting. He’d record each movement of your clashing skin..tugging you back, spanking your cheeks with each thrust and even when he decided to slide his thumb into your puckering hole. You’d release a shrill cry, whimpering and moaning. It didn’t take long to realize what he was doing and you immediately tried to stop him.
“Shit! Oh my God—fuck! Moveeee..gimme my phone.”
“Shut up..you want to post everything, post this.”
taunting you with that lens pointed at your face as he began fiercely fucking up into you. So much so, that your face meshed into the pillows. Trying to look away from the camera. Drool spilling from your mouth and your eyes completely dazed..not the most aesthetically pleasing position you’ve found yourself in nor did you want the rest of the world seeing..
“Show all your little followers how you take this dick. Let ‘em see you getting fucked like a slut. Since you wanna act like one.”
“Maybe I’ll show them how weak this lil’ stroke game is. Ain’t shut me up yet.”
“But you can’t stop fucking up my sheets. Stop lying.”
causing the two of you to begin laughing at the obvious truth. Which was far better than what was transpiring before.. “…shit..you got me.” eventually though, he’d save you from further embarrassment and let this sight be all for his own pleasure by tossing the phone aside. With your nails clawing into the sheets, (y/n) felt some semblance of control..somewhat able to gain leverage but soon, he’d take that away as well. Pulling your arms behind your back, he’d tug you up and continue drilling you from behind. Those sharp strokes were consistently hitting your core and soon enough, you were in the midst of another orgasm. Fluids puddling underneath you yet he gave you no leeway and just kept going. “Fuck..ion wanna fight with you anymore, princess. Your shit feels way too good for me to leave you alone.” Laughing as he reached underneath and massaged your clit to further increase that pressure. “Mmmph! Erennnn…I—“
it would seem that your pathetic moans had softened him just a bit because next thing you knew, he was leaning down to place kisses onto your shoulder blades and spine. “I know, baby..I know.” By now, he had you hooked into somewhat of a headlock position..almost as if he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do with you. Perhaps that had something to do with him nearing his own climatic peak. You could feel that hard cock pulsating inside of you and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead, his tongue out and his chest heaving..he was close. So close that he couldn’t even pretend that he was angry with you any longer. There was no more of keeping up this silly charade that you were mad. You couldn’t give up so easily..not when there was no man on this earth you wanted more. But he did have one thing to say to you, something that he was determined to drill into your head. Grasping your hair, he’d grunt into your ear..
“You’re mine, baby..you can’t leave me, alright? Promise me you’re not going anywhere..”
“I—ahh! I’m not…I’m sorry—“
“I’m sorry too, mama. Fuck!”
gasping with all that you could muster. And only seconds later, you felt him halt in his tracks and that warm fluid flowing into your womb. Letting out an ear shattering grunt, Eren pumped that nut into you and didn’t miss a beat. That hot, white load dripping from your battered cunt for the brief moment that he pulled out to switch positions..the mood had obviously shifted and the two of you were no longer at each other's throats and were instead shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths. “C’mere..give me a kiss.” Moaning and practically yearning for the other’s touch. Those hard pulls and smacks had slowed to tender grasps and Eren so lovingly brushed your face before pulling your hand along to climb on top of him. You didn’t even have time to exchange words, just tangled limb in limb as you made out in a passionate haze…feeling up your skin with his hands roaming your back and yours caressing his face. Leaving tender, warm kisses that made him melt for you all over again. With his lip quivering and eyes all glossed over, he’d glare up at you..begging for you to slide it back in as he was becoming far more spent than he hoped to admit. Even so, you’d do exactly that and place your hands on his chest in the process. “Oh my God…” “Oooh, baby..yes.” the cries leaving your mouths simultaneously as you impaled yourself on that throbbing erection. That mushroom tip splitting open your puffy folds yet again and emitting droplets of cum as it slid in. You were already full but he was hoping to stuff you to the brim. Hell, maybe he would get you pregnant tonight because that was the type of mood he was in. “This dick feels so good..I need all of it..” so desperately admitting as your ass slowly collided with his pelvis. “Take it then, baby. It’s yours.” Rocking back and forth, slowly grinding..going up and down on that cock. It took a moment to center yourself; to gain your balance but once you did, you were riding him to kingdom come. Fucking every bit of those frustrations out of him. Leaving a puddle of creamy, pearlescent fluid all over the base of his pelvis. And needless to say, he was loving every second!
“Ride that shit..oh fuck..” grunting with his arms folded behind his head as he casually enjoyed your ‘talents’. Including making circular motions..bouncing up and down as you propel yourself on his cock. His thick girth stretches you out with each one. Eventually, your head would fall backwards and you’d find yourself practically howling his name whilst still clawing at his chest. You were making an absolute mess of him and Eren was losing his mind! It was as if you were a completely different woman right now. One determined to drain him dry and milk him for every last remnant of his nut. He couldn’t slow you down, stop or even halt you right now. All he could do was toss his own head back and knead his fingers into the flesh of your ass. He’d leave a few light smacks to serve as encouragement but you needed no help whatsoever. You were in control now…
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Baby..yes.” crying out with his legs trembling and toes curling underneath you. The grip that tight little cunt had on him was about to drive this man insane and into another nut. Panting and wailing with his hands clutching your waist. Just then, he’d prompt you to sit still and let him fuck up into you..each sharp thrust hitting that sensitive core and causing yet another stream of sweet juices to come trickling down your thighs and onto his lap. But before you even had a chance to recover, he’d pull you back down and continue drilling until..
“Eren! Fuck!..”
“I’m coming, baby! Let me come in it—“
and before the sentence was completed, you were all but stuffed yet again. Letting him throb and pulsate inside of you as he emptied his seed in your womb. The two of you were clearly spent and quite honestly possessed no more energy to be angry. It was blatantly obvious that you had obviously forgiven one another as well. He ever so gently touched the side of your face yet again and glared into those gorgeous eyes. You’d lay flat against his chest and let him massage your back as well. And it’s then that he noticed a warm, dampened spot on his pecs and he’d tilt your chin up to see you sobbing. The intensity of the orgasms and the moment itself had seemed to overwhelm you quite a bit..
“Hey, princess..c’mere.” Coddling you in his grasp and hugging you tightly. He’d even cradle a palmful of your hair in his fingers and kiss your temple once more. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
and the response to his question nearly broke his heart in half. “I’m sorry..I just realized I don’t want to lose you. Do you really hate me? I know I did some stupid shit but I didn’t mean it.” And Eren nearly burst into tears himself but instead cradled you close and murmured into your ear. “..(y/n)..baby no. I could never hate you, even if I tried my hardest. I love you so much. That’s why I get so crazy behind you. Because I know there’s no one I want more.” Suddenly, he’d cup your face between his palms and plant a loving kiss on your forehead. No matter how mad you may have been at one another before or even if you screamed your lungs out, there wasn’t anything in this world that could break you apart. He had spent his entire life searching for a woman like you and there was no way that he could give it up so easily. Taking your fingers into his own, he’d clasp your fingers together..
“Do you mean that?”
“Never meant anything more in my entire life. Listen, if you ever feel neglected by me..like I’m not doing right, tell me. Please..I just wanna be the best man I can for you. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel less than your worth, princess.”
which is all it took for you to fall apart. Sniffling into his chest, you’d let Eren rub your back until he was able to console you. The two of you would just lie there; soaking in the moment and reveling in each other’s essence. Darkness had set over the room, as nighttime har set and you realized just how long you had been at it. Breaking into a soft giggle, you’d turn your face back towards him and for a few minutes, you’d just slowly let your tongues clash..exchanging sloppy kisses and practically wanting to live in one another’s skin.
“Hey, why don’t we get up from here, go take a bath and order some food? How’s that sound for you?” All of it sounded absolutely perfect to you and without question, you’d accept. He just wanted to spend all the time getting close, holding and keeping you by his side. He’d take however long you two needed to get back to the way it was. No amount of albums, Instagram posts or anything else mattered more in this world.
than the love you two shared.
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
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CW: A literal Serial Killer, obv gore description.
Yan! Serial Killer who didn't expect to fall head over heels for you, his supposed next victim. Don't get him wrong, he still wishes he could just yank those eyeballs out of your eye sockets and dip them into his cup of tea but he will refrain from doing so, just yet.
Yan! Serial Killer who loves to hide under your bed and waits for you to either fall asleep, stay up like a bat, or do your business. He's savoring every little noise you make like a fine wine.
Yan! Serial Killer who will actually stay in your home like he lives in it. Won't hesitate to make himself a dinner if you are a heavy sleeper (can always just knock you out with sleeping pills). That said he will also shower in your home, savoring the scent of the products you are using
Yan! Serial Killer who actually helps you in one way or another! Oh goodie, you ran out of soap! Here, let him refill it for you. Wait, you got a stain on your shirt. tsk tsk tsk, this will do justice. Hm? Are we running out of eggs? A visit to the market will solve the problem!
Yan! Serial Killer who loves to collect the eyeballs of anyone who dares to look at you for more than 5 seconds adoringly. He's lucid enough to differentiate which one to be spared and which one is not.
Yan! Serial Killer who almost squeals happily when you acknowledge him indirectly. "Perhaps my fairy godmother has finally come to help me," you quoted.
Yan! Serial Killer who can't help but stroke one out on your sleeping figure, his hand lifting your pajama up to reveal your chest. He will go as far as to rub his cock against your sex then whoops, plunge it into your hole <3
Yan! Serial Killer who contemplates whether he should cum inside you or not. One thing leads to another, and he chooses not to (It's rather troublesome to wash you up so he just came inside your mouth <3
!! Gore Warning !! (You don't have to read it if you are not a fan of it, nb: Cannibalism and Necrophilia + Backstory)
Yan! Serial Killer who somehow adores the idea of gutting you and feeling your innards, tasting how your heart beats against his tongue, or playing with guts as though he is making dough.
Yan! Serial Killer who adores you so much that he won't stop rutting against you, fucking you despite your state, cold and unmoving. Dead. He might even treat himself by burying himself deep in your guts huh?
Yan! Serial Killer who will not let death separate you two. Didn't you know that the reason he fell for you? Ah, you didn't know why he is branded as a serial killer too right?
Erickson is a man of wonder, due to his upbringing as the first heir of an infamous dukedom, he has been spoiled rotten with everything he has always wanted.
Nonetheless, he feels like he has never even once been given what he truly wanted because the supposed first heir is supposed to be his twin brother, Noel, who came out first.
In the mansion where his family resided, there was a servant who caught his twin brother's heart. A girl, or a boy? He pondered. It appeared that you were an orphan that his mother took in out of pity for your state.
It was not love nor fascination. It was the urge to take and destroy what Noel possessed and adored. And this kept going even until the three of you grew up as adults.
He would do anything to tarnish his brother's life, his position, his honor, and his beloved. That would also include you, his unrequited lover whom he accidentally met during his killing spree.
It was boredom that killed him and killing people kept him away from boredom. But you? You surely would not fail to ease his boredom for you were whom his brother longed for. And what Noel longed for would be what Erickson longed for as well, alas loving you in his stead.
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hikarry · 4 months
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You know who loves casinos? Crowley. Because he has a lot of luck in the game. Luck of the devil and all that
Every time he is (lowkey) forced to go to America, even if he is just supposed to pop up into Mississippi, he eventually finds his way to Vegas and spends at least a week there. Not only is it an excuse to wear his best clothes and look his best, but hey, Vegas is a pool of sin. Greed. Lust. Envy. Easy ass temptations. It's his element
At some point in time, while in Vegas, he comes across the angel. It was unexpected, surely, but a nice surprise nonetheless. As an angel, Crowley would have thought Aziraphale would stay as far away from places like these as possible not to get tainted by all the sins, and yet, here he is.
"Angel." Crowley approaches him from behind, leaning on the bar next to him.
"Crowley." Aziraphale answers, not looking up from his wine glass.
"Never thought I would find you in the Bellagio. Or Vegas in general, for that matter."
"And why is that?"
"Oh, you know, all the sin. Everywhere you look. Must feel like an itch to your..." He wiggles his fingers. "...angelic senses. Popped around to bless some poor, corrupted soul?"
Aziraphale finally looks up, offering him a smile.
"If you must know, I'm on vacation."
Crowley lifts an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
"Vacation?"
"Indeed." Aziraphale turns around on his seat, so he is not facing the bar anymore, but the populace in general. "Wanted to know what all the fuss about this place was about."
Crowley mimics him, leaning both his elbows on the bar, watching the people around the hotel.
"And? What's the verdict?"
The angel sighs, looking up at him again, as Crowley looks down at him as well.
"I've mostly been watching the live shows, honestly. Some are good, most are mediocre. I've been waiting for the right time to try one of the casinos."
"And what, exactly, is the definition of 'right time'?" Aziraphale opens a slow bastardly smile in his direction, lifting an eyebrow. "Oh." Crowley smiles back, slightly leaning in his direction. "Angel, you been waiting for me. What a gentleman."
Aziraphale chuckles and gets up from his seat, running his hands down his clothes.
"I could feel your presence as soon as I stepped out of the airplane, my dear."
"And what best way to fall into sin than with the devil himself at your side, is it?" Crowley offers him his arm, but Aziraphale bats it away playfully.
"Don't say it like that. I'm merely curious as to why humans seem to enjoy the dangers of gambling so much." He gestures towards the entrance of the casino. "Shall I tempt you into keeping me company?"
The demon snorts, giving the angel a final once over, before offering him a cocky smile and setting his hand on the angel's lower back, guiding him to the casino.
"Aren't you a box full of surprises." He leans closer and whispers on Aziraphale's ear before straightening himself and looking for some avaliable space at a Russian Roulette.
Alas, Crowley is certainly lucky at the game, but so is Aziraphale, even though he wouldn't call it luck. He would say "it's simple strategy, dear boy!"
They play many games through the night, but they spend most of their time at the poker table. Crowley's poker face is good. It comes with the job description. And he's got some extra points because of the sunglasses. But, surprisingly so, so is Aziraphale's. He is so good, in fact, that they stop playing as adversaries and form a team. With 6000 years under their belt of being secretive, they read each other's subtle signs easily and clean the tables like a very efficient money vacuum. They work so good together they fall into suspicious of cheating and, before they are thrown out, they collect the money and leave of their own accord, right in the direction of the bar where they get absolutely plastered.
"Anyway, until when are you staying? If given two more days I'm sure we can clean the whole of Vegas!"
Aziraphale snorts into his whiskey.
"I don't know, my dear. I think I've had excitement enough for the next year."
"Aww no!" Crowley fully tuns towards Aziraphale, laying his hand on his shoulder. "Cmon, we killed it! We could leave this place multimillionaires!"
"You know we, technically, already are, dear boy. We can literally make money out of the aether."
Crowley rolls his eyes, giving Aziraphale's shoulder a little push.
"It's the principle of the thing. Money won, not made. It has a whole other thrill."
"Mmh." The angel stays in silence for a couple of moments, looking at his glass, until he looks up at the demon. "Where are you staying?"
"Here. You?"
"Four Seasons. Do you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"At the Four Seasons?" Aziraphale nods while Crowley takes a sip of his glass. "Meet you at 9?"
"At 9."
They did meet, indeed. And had breakfast together. And lunch. And dinner. And when Aziraphale was supposed to stay for only 2 more days, he expanded his stay to 4 more days to leave on the same day as Crowley.
I don't need to say they spent the rest of the days glued to each other. Crowley even changed his stay from the Bellagio to the Four Seasons to be more "efficient", or so he says.
They explored the whole Strip and cleaned every casino they set foot in. Aziraphale made a schedule with all the live shows he wanted to watch and he dragged Crowley up and down the Strip to watch all of them and then give a very detailed review to a very drunk Crowley in his hotel room at the end of the day (aka never before 6am).
After the Second Coming, already living together in the cottage, Crowley will randomly remember that week and ask Aziraphale if he wants to go on a quick vacation and give Vegas a second spin. Aziraphale packs his bags in 35 minutes.
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thebibliosphere · 9 months
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Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.
Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)
I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.
Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot
Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.
The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)
If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."
I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.
It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.
(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)
A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."
It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.
I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)
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u3pxx · 1 year
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How do you choose the colors in your art? Your color palettes always look so cohesive and so pleasing to look at!
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ah, this is gonna be pretty long so i'll talk about it under keep reading :^]
now i am no expert!!! i am just a guy!!!! i'll just be talking about how i do it! ok!
PART 1: COLORS??? HELP.
i really like going with warm stuff on my art so it's kind of a given that most colors i use end up wounding up on this side of the color wheel
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so, let's say i'm coloring trucy, a character who wears blue, i end up choosing warmer looking blues, sometimes i end up choosing purple or gray if the other colors i chose makes it look like blue, yannow, color theory and stuff. like this for example!
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now the first one is noticeably blue, but the second one is like a lavender and third one is like, really not blue! it's like a desaturated rose color or something, however, paired with the right colors...
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they're all "blue", aren't they?
PART 2: CHOOSE WEIRD COLORS
by weird colors, i mean colors that aren't like what the thing looks like irl. like, a leaf is green right? but, it doesn't have to be when you color it!
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like when i color things gold sometimes, i use a light and desaturated red-orange for it or how like with the color blue, i don't even use blue at all!
now just because i use warmer tones a lot doesn't mean i don't use the colors from the other side of the color wheel, it depends really, if the color scheme i'm going for is monochromatic or if i really wanted to make something pop
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but of course, you can't just color willy-nilly, you gotta take into account
PART 3: CONTEXT AND MOOD
where and when is your drawing set? what's the mood? are we having fun here or are there Horrors?
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see how it changes the mood? the things we're supposed to be feeling when we look at the drawing? yeahg. ill use warmer colors when i want the drawing to look happy dreamy etc but ill break out the blues and greens when we're in sinister town pftt
also, just wanted to share again how other colors can change what another color looks like:
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PART 4: GRADIENT MAPS AND OVERLAY LAYERS
now as for making colors more cohesive... seriously, just slap that thing on top of your piece and it helps the colors get together even more! like of course i choose my own colors but gradient maps + overlay layers are kind of like adding that one final thing.
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i'll use this one as an example, left one is no gradients maps/overlays and the right one is with them. i just really prefer some good ol' ourple tones in my art so there are a couple of things i add on top to really bring out the warmth in here, like so:
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PART 5: ANYTHING ELSE?
uhhh don't be afraid to use tools in your program to correct the colors you don't like ala color balance tone curve contrast brightness etc etc.
hell, you can even color pick from like irl pictures and adjust accordingly to what colors you want.
i also do have like colors that i consistently use when shading things after countless trial and error; like how i'll use purple to shade red, blue to shade with green etc etc
ig that's all, hope this helps!
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ozzgin · 8 months
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Hello, i’m back 😁.
I’m finaly going to ask you the 3 part of Yautja female reader raised on earth.
So reader had her first heat and she spend it with her yautja male. And suprise !!!! She’s pregnant !
Her mate want to take her to their home planet but reader becomes agressive when he tried and they all know the rule : you don’t fuck with pregnant yautja. No seriously, never do that.
And so the male see the way her family is really happy about this news and they help reader with her pregnancy and they fully support her. Which is suprising for our male yautja because usualy pregnant females yautja go on their pregnancy alone. And if you feel up for it, could you write about active labour : reader is having contractions for hours, she wants support and her mate ( males aren’t suppose to ne here for the labor ) and then the baby is here and everyone love this little buttle of joy.
Hope you have time for this resquest and thanks for reading this, bye.
Welcome back! The third part of the Predator saga has been requested by @avaleigh16 as well, so I’m tagging you as promised! :) Each Predator is written under the assumption that you’ve picked them as a partner with perhaps a little bit of reaction from the other suitors. Sorry for the delay!
Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons: Mating
Featuring the four Predator types and their independent story if you’ve accepted them as your mate. Dealing with pregnancy and birth.
Part 1: Meeting
Part 2: Courting
Part 3: Mating
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After a long and exhausting courting process from all these unexpected suitors, you’ve made your decision and chose your mate. Not only that, but consuming the new relationship has left you visibly pregnant. And the father is none other than…
Feral Predator
What a bizarre choice in the eyes of the other suitors. You’ve picked the foreigner of unknown origins, from the deserted plains of the opposing hemisphere. Two different Yautja species meeting and mating. What would the outcome be? Neither the Feral Predator nor you care much about genetics. He is much more interested in planning his new family unit, except you’re not as enthusiastic about leaving your caregivers behind. Surely you can’t expect to raise your children with these frail humans. They have no skill nor value to pass on to your offspring and there are no biological ties holding you back. He notices your increased aggression and would rather not press the matters further and compromise your health, at least for now. And while he is baffled by the strange customs of assisting you throughout your pregnancy, he can’t deny the enjoyment of being included. To your surprise, in your moments of required bed rest, you spot Feral Predator continuing your household tasks for the humans. He doesn’t agree with your choices, but he will respect them nevertheless. If the humans are this important to you, he can make the effort to tolerate them.
Elite Predator
Being on this pathetic planet hasn’t eroded your common sense it seems. You’ve made the right choice. All that’s left is returning to Yautja Prime, preferably before you have to carry a needy newborn around. His patience is running thin upon hearing your obstinate refusals. What could it be this time? Pregnancy hormones? Alas, he’d rather not fight you in this feral state. It’s not optimal, but right now there’s little room for protest. If you so desire, you can have your final stay with the little creatures. Although he’s not happy at all to witness them flocking to your aid whenever something is required. You can spot the Elite Predator sulking from a distance, following his part in the tradition and giving you space. His frown, however, only lasts until the first contractions. The small earthly creatures demand his presence. It is not commonly done, but then again, can he really miss the opportunity of attending the birth of his own offspring? It’s a comical sight, his tall frame towering over the gathered family, and you can’t help but chuckle between the labored breaths. You’ll deal with his moods later.
Fugitive Bad Blood
The Fugitive knew that despite all the disapproving eyes, you’d still pick him as your partner. You have the blood of your parents running through your veins. For how long were you planning on avoiding your nature, your very fate? Thankfully you’ve come to your senses, though he might need to shake the remaining doubt off of you with his own hands. Your attachment to these life forms is frankly annoying and he doesn’t mind making the choices for you. In fact, there’s no decision to make if you only have one option. He has already proven to you that anyone else besides him is a superfluous existence. He is your guarantee to survival and anything else your heart might desire. You have managed to keep him away from your family with distant promises of compliance once the suckling is here. As you approach the moment of birth, you can sense his excitement and anticipation. The tension is the air is thick, almost suffocating. You don’t doubt his loyalty to you. If only you could use it for the safety of your earthly parents instead.
Berserker
You choosing him as your partner was the best for everyone, really. He would’ve had no trouble hunting down his competition. You soon find out just how possessive and territorial the Berserker is when not even your family can approach you. Perhaps the pregnancy has caused him to be extra careful. Not only are you his mate, but the mother of his future sucklings, so he’s not taking any risks of a foreign presence outside his own. After all, why would you need anyone else but him? You can feel anger knotting inside your stomach, but fighting against the Berserker is not the wisest move. Even though he wouldn’t recklessly jeopardize his lineage. Most likely. Probably. You will have to do something soon, because he has expressed his intentions to leave this planet as soon as the birth happens. Naturally you’ll join him. There’s a long life ahead and he’s determined to keep you with him. Just what have you gotten yourself into?
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gyuswhore · 10 months
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Pure Math 171
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choi seungcheol x reader
wc: 2.5k
genre: fluff, humour
warnings: math. (1) dirty joke. thats it i think (lmk if there's more)
synopsis: Walking into the first class of the semester shouldn't have been as eventful as it was (not that you can complain for long)
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(A/N): I haven't posted a fic in a while so i hope i redeem myself with this one hehe. a million thank yous to @toruro for beta-ing for me (even at the dentists lol) you can thank her for this too shes the reason i finished so quickly kjvkdfjg
It takes a lot to surprise you. 
It’s not that you enjoy it, but your friends simply make it easy to read them. It took Soonyoung seven human years to learn the art of surprise birthday parties. You know, the ones where you aren’t supposed to know he’s throwing a party just for you. Or Minghao, before he learned the art of deceit, and held his disdain like a badge on his face. 
You seem to have honed the skill of psychics better than most, confident in your ability as a higher-risk party trick. 
Skipping into the new semester at uni, you enter your lecture hall at the reasonable hour of 8 in the morning, expecting nothing but the usual. No surprises were to come your way today, just another first day back, fueling for the coming months.
You push the doors of your lecture hall open, ready to greet your professor for Pure Mathematics 171, pushing your spirits high to commence your per semester buttering. What you find though, is the front desk crowded with students wanting to do the exact same, all for the professor that would be teaching the most dreaded unit of the course. Of course. 
You spot Soonyoung among the crowd as he spots you at the door as well. You note how gleeful he looks at this hour. This can’t be good. Hao too presses his mouth together in an attempt to conceal his budding smile, hand to mouth when he miserably fails.
What on Earth was so funny? 
Attempting to crane your neck, over and under, to catch a glimpse of the ever popular professor, you find yourself blocked by the sea of math nerds and ass-kissers just like yourself. Curiosity was becoming a little too much for you to bear, not that your friends sniggering and whispering while looking directly at you was helping at all. You were just about to march up to the two and demand to be put on their shoulders to see what the fuss was about. Until—
“Alright! It’s almost 8, let’s save the chatter for after class, how about?” you hear a voice boom in the centre of the anthill. 
You knew that voice.
You watch in slow motion as the hoard of bodies disperse, not missing the pointed glances of both your friends directed at the teacher’s table. 
And then you see it. Standing there, looking down at his folder sheets, dry-erase marker in hand. 
Choi Seungcheol.
Choi Seungcheol was your professor.
Your boyfriend was your professor.
How did this happen? Did he know about this? Was he keeping it from you? Were you blind when you read the clear ‘Dr. Kim’ next to your unit code? 
Seungcheol doesn’t notice you standing there slack mouthed and frozen in his classroom. Until he does. 
Instead of mimicking your shocked expression, you watch as his mouth goes to pull what you recognise as a smirk. 
Oh, he thinks this is hilarious. 
His eyebrows are raised as he questions you, “Will you be taking a seat, miss?” 
It’s then that you realise you're in the middle of a lecture hall with about a hundred eyes watching you as you gape at your collective professor. Could they be mistaking your imminent horror as you checking him out? 
If this was another situation maybe you would have, but this was starting to sound like a sick joke. 
But alas, you could not confront your professor like that, at least not in front of an audience. So you find it within yourself to slowly slug towards the staircase to plant yourself next to your friends. Both of whom were having the absolute time of their lives watching your dazed expression. 
You might have committed murder that day. 
You’re forced to snap out of it as you hear Seungcheol - professor Choi - begin to speak at the front of the class.
“Good morning everybody,” he starts, hands on his desk, a pleasant expression on his face as he awaits a response from his borderline comatose students. A chorus of good mornings greet him back, excluding your own.
“Hope you guys had a good break, welcome to Pure Math 171, my name is Professor Choi” he moves to scribble his name on the whiteboard, “And I would like to be referred as such.” 
His gaze finds you in your seat as he utters those words. He is quick to shift.
“We’re gonna be starting light today, I’ll be going through our unit guide and grading system…” 
Seungcheol talks. And talks. And talks. And you don’t listen. You watch instead.
You’re mad at him. Really mad at him. But you can’t help but wonder as he walks around looking like that. He’s in the simplest dress shirt and slacks of a neutral colour, but he wears it oh so well. 
You’ve watched him every morning as he gets dressed for work, knowing his attire has always suited him. Your friends who have been in his classes have expressed their disappointment when told he wasn’t single, and promptly draw open in shock when they realize it's you that’s snagged him before the world could. 
Seungcheol, for lack of a better word, hits different when he’s in his element. His hair is pushed back and out of his face, noting how his glasses look so much sexier when he’s pacing the room with hands dipped in his pockets. He’s speaking tongues of numbers and symbols, and it’s suddenly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
But you're mad at him. It shouldn’t be that hard to remind yourself. 
“You know, you’re being real ungrateful for a person who just got a free pass on the hardest class this fucking insitution can cook up,” Soonyoung whisper-shouts next to you.
Minghao quips beside him, “Look alive, sister, you’ve hit the jackpot.”
“Were you two in on it?” you finally snap, irritated at their apparent glee. 
Soonyoung snorts, “Fuck, no, we saw him when we walked in this morning”
“So did he know?” 
“Oh, I think Professor Choi would be glad to tell you himself after hours,” Minghao sleazes while Soonyoung throws you the greasiest wink known to man. 
Disgusted and disturbed, you turn your attention back to the front of the room. You’re still disgusted and disturbed. Seungcheol is still there, looking like he does, scribbling some example equation on the board. 
“Hmm. I think professor Choi ought to know his favourite student’s having trouble paying attention? We can’t have that, you should move up front.”
You do move. Away from your friends to the seats higher up. 
It’s a mind-numbing two hours in which you think you experience every emotion possible. 
You think of your friends who have sat in his classes all semester, that have ogled him and admitted his apparent attractiveness. There were people in this room that were thinking the very same thing in this very moment, and it was making your skin crawl. You wanted to get up and scream: This is your boyfriend.
But alas, you are but a tired, tired college student. He wouldn’t fail you, would he? Then again, he has a ruthless streak of keeping you from the lights of life when you’re slacking in dire times. You might be the love of his life, but he remains a man of discipline. 
It’s an annoying trait, but only ever in the moment. He might be the sole reason you haven’t completely lost yourself in the sea of academics. 
“I think we can wrap up with that, it’s basic stuff but it won’t hurt to revise on your own before next week when we really get into it,” Seungcheol’s voice booms.
There’s a churn in your stomach for some reason, and you have to neutralize your breathing as you watch the lecture hall slowly empty out. A few students remain lingering at the front desk for yet another round of buttering. Seungcheol entertains them, pleasant smile on his face, nodding along to something. You remain seated, arms and legs crossed as you stare daggers into the top of Seungcheol’s head as he speaks with his students. 
The remaining students file out as well, and you notice how Soonyoung and Minghao are long gone, leaving just you and Seungcheol alone in this big, big room. 
It’s only then that he looks up searching, to check if you had left yet.
He remembered quick. 
His eyes finally land on your, disgruntled, tight form, refusing to make eye contact for more than three seconds before huffing audibly, moving to put away your things. Seungcheol moves around his front desk, hands in pockets, hiking his way up the lecture steps to where you were at the top row. 
You’re shoving your laptop in your bag by the time he’s done with his trek, planting himself on the chair next to you loudly. You ignore him.
“Do you think we’d get in trouble if they caught us like this?” he muses after a few silent moments.
“Caught us like what?” You snap. There goes your pledge to remain silent.
“You can’t possibly think a teacher and his student caught in a classroom by themselves is necessarily a point in our favor” 
“I’ll do the honors then” with that you’re swinging your bag over your shoulder to trudge behind him to the steps leading down, wanting to be out of his presence for the time being. 
You’re barely past him when there’s a grip on your wrist, firm and purposeful, that tugs you backwards in a harsh manner. The bag on your shoulder is sent to the floor while you, in your entirety, are sent straight into Seungcheol’s lap. 
Bastard. 
The smirk on his face is enough to send you into a pot of livid fumes, right after you’re done balancing yourself on his shoulders. You try not to grip on too tight. 
“What makes you think you can leave without being dismissed?”  
“What the fuck.” 
“Language, miss. I don’t tolerate obscenities in my classroom.” It might’ve been a menacing threat, but with what lay behind the glint in his eyes you knew he was being a little shit. 
It takes you every fibre in your body to refrain from thinking too much about him. Him and his hands that rest on your thighs, him and his hands that are placed near your waist, stroking and pressing into your shirt. 
No, you're mad at him.
“Did you know?” you ask finally, tired of the back and forth.
“Nope,” he replies, “Found out when you walked in.” 
“Do you not read your attendance sheet? Isn’t that your job? You had the entirety of summer to give me a heads up, this is your fault!” 
“Dr. Kim got into an accident last night, she’s out of service for the rest of the semester. I didn’t know until I came in for my other class I was being switched over—” 
“How does that happen?!” you almost yell.
He’s silent for a moment before beginning again, “Do you want me to ask for another class?” 
Wait, what. 
“I didn’t say that—” You can’t finish because your being pushed off your seat on his lap to stand while he gets up as well.
“I’ll go talk to the co-ordinator then, class isn’t working out for me.” With that he’s trudging back down the steps, making a beeline for the door.
You’re left stunned at the top of the stairs, not knowing if he was being serious or not. Were you about to let his presence bother you that bad? To the point he had to switch classes? What were you even that upset about? 
Twirling around in place trying to look for the bag that was strewn about earlier, you grab the straps and race down the steps. If Seungcheol can hear your bounding footsetps, he doesn’t show it. Instead you crash into his back just as he’s about to leave the room, to which he turns around. 
The smirk seems glued to his face and you realize right then you may have been lured. With the 180° that had become of your perception, you couldn’t be mad at him anymore, cooling off the simmer that had been brewing for the past couple hours. 
“Maybe…Maybe I can live with seeing your face for a couple hours a week,” you mumble, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact.
He lets out an incredulous laugh, “Couple hours a week?! Do you realise we sleep in the same bed at night, pretty sure that’s more than a couple hours.”
“You know what I meant!” you huff, arms crossed and turning your head away. You cringe slightly at how you voice echoes across the large lecture hall. 
Feeling his hands enclose yours, pulling your body slowly towards him, you bring yourself to look back up at him. His hands come up behind you when you’re close enough, snaking up your back and waist. You try not to shudder, but it’s hard when you know he’s doing it on purpose. There’s warmth that radiates off of him, a stark contrast from the chill classroom, your fingers finding purchase around his own waist.
There’s more of that same warmth when he kisses you, short pecks, yet ones that have you smiling against his lips. The curve remaining as he rests his forehead on yours.
“Let’s go home, just need to grab my stuff,” he says, but makes no effort to move from his position.
“Are you already done for the day?” you frown.
“No,” he muses, “But it’s only the first day. Besides, I wanna sit in bed with my girl while I map her out for the first assignment of the semester.” 
“Does your girl get premium access?” 
“Hm, maybe.” 
Before you can refute, the door of the room bursts open with a bang that reaches straight into your soul. With the way Seungcheol’s eyes widen, you don’t doubt the same was happening in his own chest. 
There isn’t enough time for you to pull away before hearing gasps alluding from the threshold. 
Soonyoung and Minghao stand at the door, scandalized looks complete with hands over their faces. Hao shakes his head in mock disappointment, eyes pointed. Soonyoung pulls out his hands, framing them like he was taking a picture of the both of you gripping each other.
“Now what would the bulletin look like with these two on the front cover? You’re friends with Seok, right? D’you think you could put a word in?” Soonyoung yaps, the most insufferable look on his face.
Seungcheol laughs, to your surprise, and looks over to you, “What d’you think the bulletin would look like with his F on the front cover?” 
“D’you think you could put a word in?” you raise your eyebrows. 
His smile widens but he’s being pulled away as both your friends move forward to surround him. You vaguely register Soonyoung cupping your boyfriend’s face delicately, singsonging about their years of friendship, or how Hao has his arms wrapped around him in a back hug, head on his shoulder. 
You vaguely register any of it, because you’re smiling too hard at the scene. Smiling too hard when Seungcheol catches your eye, before bursting out laughing, attempting to wrestle the two off of him. 
You bring your phone up to the chaos instead of your hands, wanting to frame the scene for real this time. 
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animasola86 · 7 months
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Kinktober: The horny ghost
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Notes: Another @kinktober2023 submission that I thought about while trying to fall asleep, where most of my ideas apparently come from, huh. And once again I spat this thing out in a few hours, while I normally sit and stare at empty pages when I try to write something with more plot. Oh well, if smut is what comes out of my mind, then so be it. I hope you enjoy!
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Pairing: Richard Jackdaw x f!Ravenclaw x Sebastian Sallow
Genre: Smut
Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Horny teenagers. Voyeurism. Masturbation. Spectrophilia.
Word count: 5.3k
Synopsis: Richard Jackdaw watches teenagers have sex and then stalks one of them for more. It is what it is.
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Warning: Horny ghosts ahead. And even hornier girls. It's smut, beware!
-- can be read on AO3 too --
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The horny ghost
They were at it again. Their grunts and moans filled the dimly lit room and caused him to break free from his daily daze of thinking about death. Richard Jackdaw watched the two students with interest, tilting his head slightly, not too much, no reason to lose it now when things got interesting.
The slapping of skin against skin got louder and faster as the boy kept thrusting vigorously into the girl who was sprawled on the table, her hands clutching the edges as her body shook and convulsed under what must be her third orgasm of that particular encounter.
Impressive. The ghost had seen these two many times before, mostly in this very classroom and each time he had watched them, he had felt both aroused and mildly jealous, wishing he could be the one to drive that girl into oblivion and back. But alas, his dick was as see-through as the rest of him and as much as he wanted to, he never would.
And he'd accepted that fate. Yet that didn't mean he couldn't still watch and work on himself, because thank Merlin he was still able to touch himself even in the afterlife – what a dreary existence it would have been otherwise. Surely the first decades he hadn't really felt the need to do so as he had been busy lamenting his own death, but once he had grown used to the fact that he was in fact dead and condemned to haunt the halls of Hogwarts for all eternity, he had made the best of it – and had started watching the students over the years.
Mostly the girls. Of course the girls. What else would you do given the opportunity to sneak into places you were not supposed to go? And as Hogwarts students were mostly accustomed to the ghosts floating by on a whim, most of them didn't really mind him. He was just watching after all, never engaging, just looking – and the things he saw would have made the blood rush through his cheeks – if his body still provided that function.
Over the years, girls would become much more bold than when he had been alive. More independent. And the things they did to their lovely little bodies...
Jackdaw sighed deeply, almost forgetting where he was for a moment as he remembered. Yet the couple was still going strong, moaning and grunting and indulging in nothing but pure lust, so caught up with it that they didn't notice his noises.
Especially that Slytherin boy was rather impressive. His stamina was immaculate. He'd give his little girl two to three mind-blowing orgasms before he focused on himself and when he did, the table beneath them would creak and threaten to break under the impact of his forceful thrusts.
And the girl... It had taken Jackdaw a bit to recognize her the first time he had caught them like this, but she was the Ravenclaw girl he had met on top of the Owlery, who had followed his riddle. And he had become quite fond of her, finding himself stalking the Ravenclaw tower more and more frequently. When he had first seen her entering this particular classroom with that green-clad boy, he had to admit: he had been quite jealous.
Yet the things that boy would do to her and the way she would be willing to do any of what he asked, had made the ghost appreciate this constellation. They were certainly a sight to behold. Doing it like rabbits, really, no better way to describe it. He'd seen them elsewhere as well, in dark hallways, in a corner of the library or further down in the basements of the Restricted section.
Sometimes they would disappear through hidden doors and only come out hours later, hair messy and cheeks flushed, and he could only imagine what they had been up to. He didn't need to imagine, he saw it right in front of him.
The girl was crouched on the edge of the table now, her arms wrapped around the boy's neck and her legs around his waist, as he slammed his hips against her so rapidly she could only moan in shallow puffs, her eyes closed and her head resting on his shoulder, clearly already driven to heights she would need some time to recover from.
This might be his chance, Jackdaw thought and gently floated from the dark corner he had been watching from towards the two students. He remained behind the boy, not wanting him to notice him, but he did want the girl to see him, know that he had been watching. And so he hovered slightly above them, waiting for her to open her eyes again. As she didn't, he dared to move a little closer and blew some air into her direction – and indeed she blinked and her eyes flew open, widening as she saw him.
He smiled at her and she gasped, masking the noise with another moan as the boy kept plunging into her without having noticed anything. She held his gaze then, her lips parted and trembling, her whole body shaking, and he saw first-hand how her fourth orgasm rolled over her as she held onto the Slytherin tighter, her fingernails digging into his skin and leaving red marks behind.
For a moment he envied the other's ability to bleed, but then he watched in awe how the girl came undone completely, her face turning into a mask of pure bliss as her eyelids fluttered and her mouth opened for a particularly loud moan.
He licked his translucent lips and his hand moved to his own crotch, frantically rubbing himself through his trousers as he took it all in. The grunts of the boy as he came as well only mirrored the noises he had wanted to make and in that moment, as the boy grabbed the girl's waist to push into her with one final forceful thrust, he imagined himself filling her up with his seed, emptying himself inside her pretty pussy, leaving behind a mess that would spill out of her eventually, tainting her uniform, coating her skin, until it was dried and caked to her sacred centre and her soft thighs.
And he'd imagine her walking around like that until she would take a bath and that was when his mind went spiralling. He'd seen her take a bath before, many times, and as she would do so again after this for sure, he was already looking forward to seeing it again.
Jackdaw retreated then, throwing her one last smile before he disappeared into his dark corner again, still observing, but giving the couple a little time to come down from their shared experience – and giving himself a well-deserved handling, his ghostly grunts nothing more than the wind howling through the old castle's walls.
The boy gave the girl a soft kiss as he slowly stepped away from the table, his seed, as predicted, dripping from her core. She held onto his face and kissed him back with passion, whispering sweet nothings as she leaned against him once more. His chuckle filled the room and he coaxed a shrill shriek out of her when he would plunge his fingers into her soiled hole, pushing his mess further in again.
She slapped his hand away and laughed, then quickly jumped off the table and put her underwear back on, indeed concealing what he had left inside her. Jackdaw watched them get dressed again, his hand tightly wrapped around his length, eager to feel like this again, to be in love, to be alive...
He stroked himself almost angrily now and when the illusion of his cum pumped out of him, he groaned deeply and the noise would make the girl look into his corner as the couple was about to exit the classroom. He saw her blushing and biting her lip – and what else could that notion mean other than that she'd wait for him in the bath like usual?
Smirking to himself, he nodded to himself and watched the two students leave.
Time passed and as he had no concept of it, he found himself floating through the Ravenclaw common room, looking for the girl. Most students seemed to be away still, at dinner or in classes or elsewhere, he didn't know and he didn't care. He knew she was here somewhere. He quickly scanned the bathrooms, yet she was nowhere to be found.
When he finally decided to take a peek into her dorm room (which he rarely did because he still had some sense of decency left, a little bit at least, he'd usually wait for the girls to sleep to haunt their halls), he was met with a sight he had not expected.
There she was, alone in her room, completely naked, on her top bunk, lying on her back, legs spread wide, moaning softly. He floated closer, watching her with growing curiosity. Her eyes were closed and she had one hand between her slightly quivering thighs, her fingers rubbing gentle circles around her clit. He decided to surprise her and shoved his translucent form through the underside of her bed until his head poked out the other side, deliciously close to her pretty pussy.
“Hello beautiful,” he whispered and upon hearing his voice, her eyes flew open and she blushed deeply when she saw him right between her legs.
“Hello Richard,” she replied coyly but with an undertone that certainly suggested she had indeed been waiting for him.
“Not taking a bath today, lovely?” he cooed and kept watching her move her fingers over her wet folds. He could see dried traces of her boyfriend's cum all over her skin.
“Not yet,” she whispered back, licking her lips. “No point in cleaning up just yet...”
“I see,” he said and moved his head closer to her centre. She shivered slightly and a small gasp escaped her. “Say, can you feel this?” he asked and blew a little air against her heated skin. She bucked her hips in response.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So cold... and refreshing...”
He smirked at her and continued to gently assault her with his ghostly breath. Seeing her shiver and hearing her moan softly made his erection strain against his trousers once more. “Such a naughty little girl...” he teased, moving over her body now, blowing against her stomach and then focused on her breasts. It didn't take long for her rosy nipples to harden and peak up with interest.
She bit her lip and halted the movement of her fingers as she watched him. He was now basically hovering over her, inches away from sinking his see-through form through her body, gently floating up and down, his face so close to hers he could almost feel her rapid breaths against his ghostly skin.
“Is this all you wanted to do right now?” he whispered, his voice deep and definitely having an impact on her as he saw her shuddering and inhaling sharply. “How about you use some of your little... toys?”
He saw her swallowing and without breaking eye contact, she moved one arm over her head and fidgeted with the small box she had stored on the shelf behind her pillow. Her shaking fingers returned with one of those fancy wand handles she had collected and he had always wondered why she would keep them so close to her bed until he had caught her one night pushing one of them deep into her shivering pussy.
And she did just that now as she lowered her hand and pushed the item through her folds, coating it in her juices before she slipped it past her entrance and in it went, easily swallowed by her eager little cunt. A soft moan escaped her and he kept watching her, floating a little to the side to lie down next to her, propped on one ghostly arm as his eyes moved from her flushed face to her centre.
“Can you even feel that?” he asked quietly. “After being stretched so much by your boyfriend?”
She chuckled softly. “Oh Richard, you have no idea how the female body works, do you?” she teased and watched him intently.
“Well, of course I don't, thank you for reminding me,” he said with a pout and a raised eyebrow. Yet he knew she only meant it as a joke, no matter how true her words were and how much it had hurt to realize that he had died before having the pleasure of fully experiencing any real contact with a woman's body.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered and she leaned closer to him, her lips literally ghosting his as she looked at him intensely. “Forgive me.”
He sighed theatrically, then smirked at her. “Of course, love, how could I ever stay mad at you,” he replied quietly, moving his see-through head slightly against her, trying to imagine what a real kiss would feel like. “When you are so generous in showing me all these wonders...”
“Let me show you another little trick,” she whispered and leaned away, propping up on one elbow as she moved her hands to the wand handle wedged inside her pretty pussy. Yet she didn't touch it, she merely rubbed her nub slowly, then more eagerly, and with a deep moan he saw how the wand handle moved on its own and with a wet plop slipped out of her tight hole, landing on the bed sheets, coated in her juices.
He chuckled softly and raised his eyebrows in approval. Before he could react further, she had grabbed the box full of wand handles and put it between her legs, her thighs twitching slightly as she sat up. He floated back a little and settled near her shin, watching her curiously. She proceeded to rummage through the contents of the box and got out three more of the same type of handle, all seemingly cut from the finest marble, probably cool to the touch and heavy, all in a variety of different colours.
“What do you plan to do with those, beautiful?” he asked and tilted his head carefully. She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, yet the smirk was more than devious. Seductive even.
He took a closer look at the objects as she pushed the box aside. He had thought they were smaller, thinner, but upon closer inspection they had about thrice the girth of a normal wand, probably filling the palm of the small girl completely, perhaps even a little more if she would have used them properly.
Yet she proceeded to place them between her splayed legs, the one that had already been inside her in her hand now, as she rubbed her wetness over it once more. He knew she would normally use her fingers to pleasure herself, he had seen it so many times, but seeing her small digits in comparison to the much thicker item made him frown deeply.
“Can I see yours?” he then heard her ask and he looked at her with an even bigger frown, before he understood. She looked at him intently as she held the wand handle to her entrance.
“Of course, dear,” he whispered and unbuttoned his trousers. He used to be much more hesitant about this, but she had asked him many times before and even though she couldn't touch him, the thought of her eyes on him, no matter how see-through he might be, aroused him more than he would have admitted. Then again, she probably saw the effect she had on him quite clearly.
As he freed his erection from its confines, he saw her licking her lips, before she pressed the phallic item into her channel, her eyes on his crotch. He started to curl his fingers around his length, lazily stroking it as he watched her move the object in and out slowly, her breaths quickly turning heavy. Yet before she rode it out completely, she grabbed another one of the wand handles and brought it to her lips, languidly moving her tongue over the rigid surface.
He let out a groan. Her constant eye contact was riveting, so naughty and sultry and downright lewd, so unlike any girl he had met in his long afterlife. She knew what she was doing and he was here for it. When she started sucking on the item, he could only imagine what those lips would feel around his dick. Imitating it with his thumb and forefinger, he moved his hand tighter up and down his shaft, his breaths growing shallow, despite the non-existing need to breathe.
Once she had properly lathered the handle with her saliva, she quickly moved it down towards her centre and without any further hesitation pushed it in with the other one, a deep shudder rushing through her as she did so. He watched her with his lips parted as she moaned and bit her lip, shifting on her bed to adjust to the intrusion of two things now stretching her tight entrance.
“How does it feel?” he whispered breathlessly.
“Tight,” she replied equally out of breath. “And comfortably cold.”
He laughed at that. “I'd describe myself the same way,” he said and moved his free hand over her body, noticing the goosebumps spreading under his ghostly touch.
She moaned. “Oh keep doing that,” she whimpered and leaned back, shifting her hips as she pressed her hands onto her centre, keeping the wand handles stuck in place. “Feels nice...”
Jackdaw smiled and continued caressing her shivering body as good as he could. He couldn't feel her, but she certainly seemed to feel him. She had told him before that it felt like a cold, wet cloth hitting warm skin when a ghost would pass through a human. And apparently she was really into it. Her moans grew louder and she squirmed slightly, grinding her hips slowly at the sensations, be it by his ghostly hand or the objects wedged inside her tight pussy.
He couldn't help but grab his dick tighter at the sight. When he retrieved his hand, she looked at him out of half-lidded eyes and chewed on her lips. “Please don't stop...” she whispered needily, but he threw her a smirk and floated between her legs again, settling there with his legs crossed, his knees technically passing through her thighs and his cock held firmly in his hand.
“I want to see your pussy first,” he said quietly, holding her gaze.
She frowned. “You've seen it, it's right there,” she replied in confusion, moving her fingers away to show him what she meant.
“No, I want to see... more of it...” he said, licking his lips.
He saw her blushing as she understood and when she complied, his eyes wandered down to her quivering cunt where the two items twitched slightly in their tight embrace. Her entrance strained around them and when she grabbed them gingerly, he could see the skin stretching even more as she pulled them apart slowly, gasping softly as she did so.
“Yes... stretch that little pussy...” he moaned deeply and leaned down closer, taking it all in. “I want to see inside of you...”
She whimpered softly, her shaking fingers holding the objects in place as he dove his head down between her legs, his ghostly breath causing her to shiver deeply. The gaping hole she presented to him looked so delicious, her wetness seeped out of her invitingly and he could even see her walls clenching against the wand handles, her soft flesh moving with every shuddering breath she took.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered and she moaned softly as the cold air of his breath hit her heated skin. “I wonder...” He looked up then, a devilish smirk on his face. She frowned at him, her lips trembling. “How many more of these can you fit in that vast cavern of yours?”
She frowned at his words. He could have worded that differently, but now was not the time to be poetic. Staring at her like this, he could almost feel his dick hardening by the second. Eventually she sat up slowly, wincing slightly at the change in angle and let go of the items, her entrance closing up and straining back around them immediately. He watched her with growing fascination.
Grabbing a third of the same handle, this time a blue one, her hands shaking badly as he noticed, she didn't even prepare it beforehand, but just shoved it in between the other two, groaning deeply as she did so, her stomach tensing up. She looked at him, wondering if he was satisfied with what she had done, but he only motioned towards the fourth item still lying on the bed.
“I believe you can fit at least one more...” he whispered.
She swallowed at that and as she grabbed the last of the marble handles, a deep shudder rushed through her body, goosebumps shifting over her skin like a tidal wave. Shifting on her bed, she tilted her hips up and pushed the fourth object between the other three, really struggling now to fit it in. Her moan sounded almost pained and he decided then to help her a little.
His hand ghosted over her heated skin and if he really focused he could almost feel the warmth radiating from her centre. He pushed his fingers through her throbbing nub, coaxing another moan out of her and definitely helping her in relaxing against the intrusion of yet another strange object in her tight little pussy.
As soon as the fourth one was wedged inside her, she pushed all of them deeper and fell back with a loud grunt as she pressed her hands onto her folds, shivering deeply, her entire body convulsing under the pressure.
“Does it hurt?” he whispered and watched her from between her legs.
“A real cock feels nicer,” she said through gritted teeth. “But it's... tolerable...”
“Can you move your hips for me?” he asked quietly, and when she obeyed he could hear the stone objects grinding against each other inside of her. “You did pick the hardest material, didn't you?” he teased.
“All the others... are wooden...” she groaned softly, still fighting against the sensation as she bucked her hips slowly up and down. “Didn't want to... risk a splinter... you know?”
Jackdaw laughed at that. “Makes sense,” he replied and kept watching her hands cramping against her centre. “Will they come out if you remove your hands?”
“They might,” she whimpered. “It is a very tight fit...”
“Keep your hands there then,” he whispered and shifted his body until he was hovering above her once more, his ghostly dick, as hard as he could possibly be, floating above her hands. As he focused his mind, he propped his arms on either side of her body, trying to hold the shape despite his wavering form. “Look at me,” he whispered and when she opened her eyes, she gasped softly as she noticed him so close to her.
She licked her trembling lips, her eyes wandering over his see-through face. He held her gaze as he floated a little lower, his body almost moulding into hers, if not even disappearing inside hers. He could see the goosebumps rushing over her skin and her breaths were frantic. She could definitely feel him. “Richard...” she whimpered his name and it was all he needed to move his hips against her centre.
If he would have been alive, he would have wedged his cock right between those toys of hers, stretching her even more, making her scream and moan in pain and pleasure as he filled her up completely. He would slam into her with fervour, moaning her name and losing himself inside her. Perhaps he would have ripped those things out of her and shoved his hand into her, feeling that soft flesh pulse against his fingers as he caressed her from the inside.
He would have kissed her breathless, savoured those moans inside his mouth as he would have moved his body against her, fucking her absolutely senseless. He wouldn't have worded it like this, but in the end, he wouldn't have done any of this anyway, because he couldn't.
Inhaling sharply he focused on her beautiful face, contorted in nothing but lust and bliss as he kept pushing his transparent hips against hers, trying to imagine what it would feel like.
Over the years it had become harder and harder to remember the days of his short, short life. He couldn't even really feel himself when he stroked his dick, and the absolute audacity of his body to still give him the illusion of arousal was the worst thing about it. Despite all the dread flooding his mind almost every second of the day, for all eternity, he did enjoy living vicariously through the horny teenagers of this school.
Watching them losing themselves in each other's touch, eager boys impaling even more eager girls with their unfaltering erections, seeing and hearing them moaning and drifting off into spheres he never experienced, seemed enough for him, most of the time. And having this girl graciously sharing her pleasure with him, allowing him to be a part of it, certainly felt better than brooding away in a dark corner of an unoccupied classroom.
And even if he couldn't feel her squirming beneath him, her hands pressed firmly against her centre as she bucked her hips rapidly against the objects wedged inside her, it was enough to see her come undone, knowing that he had certainly helped her get to this dishevelled state. He kept pushing his ghostly pelvis against her, sinking his spectral dick into her core over and over again, moaning softly into her ear as he leaned over her, his breath actually making strands of her hair move slightly (he refused to believe it was merely the shuddering of her body that caused this).
Her moans grew louder and as she squeezed her eyes shut, she suddenly rolled onto her side, her hands between her legs as she pressed her thighs against them, her hips stuttering as she pushed her face into her pillow, actually biting down into it as she came right beneath him, her body convulsing as tremors rolled over her like waves. She gasped breathlessly, whimpering quietly as she rocked her hips slowly during her orgasm until she halted her movements entirely, panting badly.
He floated away then, settling at the foot of her bed, watching her curiously. Giving her a moment to calm her probably rapid heartbeat, he moved his hands over the curve of her body, seeing her shivering all over again. “Show me your pussy,” he whispered then and she rolled onto her back lazily, watching him tiredly. “Don't push those things out yet.”
She kept her shaking hands on her wet centre as she spread her legs again, her thighs twitching uncontrollably. He noticed her chest rising and falling fast, her pert nipples brushing against her arms as she squeezed her breasts between them. She moved her fingers and gingerly pushed the intricate wand handles around in her quivering cunt, their grinding sounds mixing with the wet squelches, before she grabbed two with each hand and pulled them aside, opening her pussy up for his viewing pleasure.
He gasped softly as he saw her wetness pooling between them, almost bubbling softly from the tremors of her clenching and unclenching walls. Grabbing his dick once more, trying to imagine how hard and hot it must feel in his tight grip, he stroked himself quickly, his eyes glued to her gaping hole and then he actually felt a rumble going through his translucent body and he saw his seed spurting out of his tip. He quickly pushed it right into that deep opening in front of him, having to imagine how his cum would fill her up completely, how it would feel to be embraced in that tight space, milked to the very last drop.
Groaning loudly, he watched her moaning softly, her core shivering under his pretend-intrusion. When he was done, he leaned back, breathing just a little bit faster. She then started to pull her toys out of her cunt, one after the other, each releasing with a moan and squelching sound that almost made him feel goosebumps as he watched her. Once all four of them were lying on her bedsheets, gathering her wetness beneath them and staining the fabric, he looked at her stretched pussy.
She kept it open with her fingers now, gently caressing her lower lips as she met his gaze. He could see her juices seeping out lazily and perhaps it was the seed of her boyfriend from earlier, or – and he liked the idea much better – it was his ghostly release mixed with hers, transcending the bounds of possibilities. It had felt special and he had never felt more connected to her. So why couldn't it be his?
He smiled softly at her and moved a hand over her heated centre, pretending to smear it over her skin – and as if reading his mind, she did the exact same thing and dug her fingers into herself and spread the white substance all over her skin, moaning slightly as she did so. And she didn't stop there. He watched her with wide eyes as she raised her wet hand to her lips and started licking it with slow, sensual movements of her tongue.
Groaning deeply, he leaned back and watched her in nothing but admiration. “Such a naughty girl...” he whispered with a smirk.
She smirked right back, putting her fingers into her mouth and sucking on them with a lewd noise that would have made him blush if he would have been able to. Her other hand moved over her wet folds and when she started fingering herself, he shook his head with a chuckle. Floating up to somewhat lie down next to her, his eyes kept wandering from her flushed face to her equally agitated pussy as she kept pushing her fingers in and out, the wet noises almost giving him chills.
“Will you ever stop being horny?” he asked quietly, his face hovering next to hers.
She laughed softly, lowering her hand to grab her breast, smearing her saliva over her hard nipple. “Never...” she replied and winked at him.
“And here I thought I was the horny ghost...”
“You are, you just found an equally horny girl who really enjoys your presence,” she whispered with a soft smile that wouldn't quite match the lewd things she was still doing to her body.
“That's one of the sweetest things someone ever said to me,” he purred, smiling back happily. She locked gazes with him then and he almost could feel the hunger lingering behind her beautiful eyes.
“How about we take that bath now, Richard?” she then offered and her innocent smile turned into a smirk once more.
“I like the way you think, darling,” he said and floated away slightly, watching her sit up slowly as she wiped her wet fingers on her thigh, caking it with even more substances that certainly needed to be scrubbed off soon. “Lead the way, I'll follow you inconspicuously...”
She scoffed playfully as she jumped off the top bunk and landed on the floor with a soft thud. “You just want to see me walk away, don't you?” she teased and grabbed a bathrobe, yet didn't put it on.
“Guilty as charged,” he confessed and laughed darkly, his eyes travelling up and down her naked form. “I dare you to go to the bathroom like this...” he then teased and bit his lip.
She tilted her head, smirking wider. “Challenge accepted.”
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End notes:
It's not cheating when you're just pleasuring yourself, can't control the ghost watching, right? (Should have added that into the story, but meh, didn't seem to fit, so I left it out and here you go. Plot hole in a smut piece? What's new? XD)
So my first Kinktober submission focussing on someone other than Sebastian did feel a little strange at first, but he is still present at the beginning and always in my heart even when I write about smexing up ghosts.
I got inspired to do this as I remembered that little phase we all had where all I could see on my dash was Richard Jackdaw and I somehow miss those days, but here he is/was, in all his ghostly glory.
I mean, look at this image by @cuffmeinblack - I should definitely write some more about this fine boy. (Hmm, bathtub scene incoming? Who knows.)
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[ masterlist ]
Previous Kinktober submissions:
Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (somnophilia, tentacles)
It is that time again (breeding kink)
A scholar and a pervert (overstimulation, sex toys)
It belongs to me (deepthroating, semi-public)
A Filthy Fantasy (1/2) (cnc, bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial)
A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)
313 notes · View notes
contentloadinggg · 3 months
Text
January Blues - Hozier
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Author’s Note: Y’all I finally did it. We’re going to pretend it’s still January so this fits. But it’s finally here 🙏. Thanks to my bestie lunaritessane Who’s input made this fic a whole lot better. I love you💚. (Literally, like their beta reading was just delicious.)
Summary: Andrew is feeling down, you make him feel better. Gender neutral!reader. (3k words)
⚠️Warnings⚠️: Smut! Smut turned weirdly poetic sometimes?. Kinda Switch!Andrew, sub vibes at the beginning, soft dom vibes later. Descriptive descriptions of Andrew’s long dick. (I have a problem)
This is a work fiction and is not a reflection of who Hozier is.
Inspired by:
“Well you cured my January Blues, yeah, you made it all alright.”
Fic under the cut💙, 18+ only, you’ve been warned.
The further Ireland dipped into the depths of winter, the more Andrew’s mood dropped. Reflecting the rainy, washed-out climate outside the frosty windows of his house. It hardly even snowed this winter, just a cold rain that somehow made his mood worse. Logically, he knew it was likely that the lack of sun on his already pale skin was what had him wallowing. But alas, no amount of tea and books seemed to make him feel any better. So that’s why he’d given up by this point. Gaze zoned out past the pages of his novel and tea now cold on the coffee table. His mind clouded like the gathering storm outside.
“Andy?”
A gentle call of his name had Andrew startled. Usually he would’ve noticed your presence by the sound of your footsteps, but he’d been too far into his head to notice.
“Yes, darling?”
He asked, the tone of his voice reflecting yours in its quiet manner.
“I’m just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve called your name a few times and you haven’t answered.”
You replied. Despite keeping your voice light, he can tell by the slight frown and the furrow of your eyebrows you’re more concerned than you're letting on. Sighing deeply with resignation, he closes the book with a soft snap and sets it aside. 
“I’m just feeling… I’m not sure. Down, I suppose.”
He answers, voice tainted with melancholy. You look even more concerned. A part of him wishes he didn’t worry you over trivial things. But how could he ever resist your questioning of his well-being?
You walk over to him and sit down on the arm of the chair. Running a hand into the long curls of his hair to scratch at his scalp. He hums and closes his eyes, leaning back into your soothing touch.
“Anything I can do to help?’
You ask and he breathes out through his nose with a shake of his head.
“Not sure there’s much you can do, but… stay?”
Andrew replies, aware his tone sounds dangerously close to needy. But you only smile and nod. Sating any insecurities he has as you continue to massage his scalp. 
He hums contently once more, letting his head rest against your hand. The warm light of the room throws shadows over his face and the pale lines of his neck. Shrouding the valleys in darkness and the highlights with warmth. Turning the sharpness of his cheekbones all the more prominent if that's possible. 
Leaning down, you leave a few kisses over his cheekbones. The feeling of warm breath against his face forces a smile to his lips. He turns his head, capturing your lips against his. Your kiss is like a balm on his apathy, replacing it with passion. Your free hand cups the side of his face. Feeling the gentle scratch of facial hair against your palm that’s also felt on your chin. The feeling lures you closer. Pressing into the space between his and your bodies until you’re straddling one of his legs. Lost in the velvety sensation of lips and tongues against each other. You break it off first. Ignited with one simple idea. 
“Let me make you feel better, yeah?”
You prompt, in a lowered, raspier voice. He looks up at you with blown pupils, green irises dark. Shining hot in the orange light from the lamp. He breathes out. Like he can’t believe you’re real. And nods eagerly.
“Please… do what you’d like.”
His breathless agreement makes you smile and melt a bit, moving his head to get access to his throat. A soft sound leaves his mouth as you kiss over the thin skin. Breath hitching when your tongue follows along the groves of his veins. He’s so goddamn sensitive. He has to hold back a few noises, the heat of your breathing brushing over his neck. Goosebumps appear over his arms. He’s becoming more and more aware of your every move.
Andrew lets out a loud groan that he quickly cuts off in embarrassment. A response to the dragging of your teeth over the base of his neck where it meets his shoulder. The skin beneath your lips flushes a pink color. You snicker in response to the noise, and he huffs in irritation.
“It’s okay, I wanna hear you. I wanna know you’re enjoying it. You sound absolutely gorgeous, but that’s no surprise.”
You murmur to him, rubbing his side to subdue his unease. You know he’s listening because the muscles relax beneath your hand. He lets out another moan as you nibble, turning the skin a pale red.
It’s not long before you’ve scattered similar-looking bites over his neck. By the time you’re getting his sweater off Andrew is breathing a little heavier, sweat building on the back of his flushed neck. 
His chest stutters watching you sink to your knees in front of the armchair. Eyes hooded and darkened.
“Just lie back, baby, and I’ll cure all those blues.”
You direct, and he does as you say. His mouth is too dry to try and come up with a sassy reply to your somewhat cheesy line. Not like that would matter anyway. All thought disappears from his head when your mouth lands on his chest. Kissing, licking, sucking down his sternum. Your lips wrapping around one of his nipples has him debating whether or not to beg for mercy. Airless moans slip from his lips without time nor thought to stop them. 
“Fuckin’ Hell, darling. That’s so good.”
Andrew hisses, voice rough, Irish accent thickened, words a little slurred. His hands running into your hair. Using whatever is there to try and get a grip. Large palms grasping at the back of your skull. He can’t help but pull when you tug on his nipple, forcing a quiet moan from your lips.
“Shit, sorry.”
He apologizes in a way that would sound regretful if it wasn’t husky with arousal. You laugh in response to him jerking under your mouth when you suck softly. Your way of telling him it’s okay. 
After giving Andrew’s nipple a bit more attention, just to hear him whine a few more times. And then start slowly kissing down his stomach. Feeling every little twitch and breath beneath your mouth. 
“Darling, please, please, stop teasing.”
There it is, the pleads for mercy. He’s practically whimpering. His voice becomes tight. A struggle for control. You grant his wish, hands moving to his belt. There’s a large bulge beneath his jeans, straining against the fabric. God, that must be uncomfortable, you can feel the heat from here. 
Eventually, with a bit of moving around, you manage to pull his jeans and boxers off. Freeing his cock from the confines of his clothes. It arches up towards his stomach with a surprising stiffness, considering you haven’t even been touching him for that long. He’s decently above average in length. To the point it burns a little to take, but not ridiculously so. The tip is a deep red, swelled with a desperation to be touched. 
Andrew shoots a hand from your hair to the arm of the chair. Gripping it with a hiss when he feels the brush of your breath over the sensitive skin. His cock twitches, the two prominent veins along the bottom throbbing. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Wrapping a hand around the shaft. Andrew looks down at you with hungry eyes alight with reverence, studying your every move. 
“God- fucking, yes.”
Andrew gasps in pleasured relief, a moan quickly following when you start stroking the length of his shaft, giving every inch an equal amount of attention. Just barely touching the tip to tease him. To watch his cravings become unbearable. At first, he accepts the simple touch, relishing in finally having friction on his cock. However, it soon becomes too little and he starts rocking his hips into your hand, eager for more. Slender thighs flexing with the movement. Light shining over his jutting hip bones. He’s absolutely stunning from this angle, chest heaving as he squirms. A thin sheen of sweat glistening over the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the darkness of his neatly trimmed beard. 
“Babe-”
Andrew starts, his words sounding more like a gasp of breath. 
“Fine, I’ll be nice.” 
You relent, not wanting to torture him too much. Dragging your hand over the weeping head, Andrew moans and sinks his fingernails into the arm of the chair. His other hand cupping the back of your neck, trying his best not to grip or pull. You circle your thumb around the very tip of his cock, over the most sensitive glands. Andrew practically whimpers because of it. Legs jerking, he throws his head back. Eyes squeezed shut. Showing off all those pink love bites you left over his throat.
“Yes, just like that. Keep going.”
Andrew manages in that sweet, unsteady voice. It’s like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, caught between moaning and whining. He thrusts his hips into your hand which moves up and down the entire length of his dick. A focused attention with a twist of your wrist over the head. Andrew isn’t the only one getting impatient. You’re interested in doing much more than just a handjob. 
So, when your impatience gets to be too much, you duck your head and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. Causing a high-pitched noise of surprise from the man above. There’s an even sharper noise as you press your tongue against the bottom and suck. Pulling precum from his eagerness. The tangy and sharp taste coating your tastebuds, sticking to your tongue. It fills your senses, nearly overwhelming the musky scent of Andrew’s arousal. 
“Let me see your eyes, please. Look at me.”
Andrew urges, his voice higher than normal. Looking up at him, his eyes meet yours. And he responds like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. His lips parted, looking down at you with warmth in his eyes. His entire dick throbbing with your gaze on his. 
“God, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”
He gasps out. His hand letting go of the armchair and brushing the hair away from your face. So he can see all of you properly. 
“So, so pretty down there.”
Andrew continues in a murmur, the pleasure of seeing you drives his ecstasy even higher. He gently moves slightly further into your mouth, hungry for more of the warm pleasure, more than what your hand is giving him. You welcome him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth. Jaw stretching to accommodate until it nearly aches. Your tongue cradles the underside. 
He moans lowly, running fingers over your scalp. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth wrapping around his cock causes his entire body to shiver. Pleasure bolting up his spine. He nearly becomes lightheaded with the rush of blood, cheeks flushing a bright red against the paleness of the rest of his skin. 
The more you take, the more difficult it is to breathe. Andrew stops you for a moment,  letting you take a breath. He caresses your jaw with the backs of his fingers, helping it relax out. 
“Just go slow, breathe through your nose.”
He speaks in a calmly commanding voice. Forcing you to stay in your moment of pause for a few seconds longer before letting you continue. You follow his introductions and breathe through your nose, taking measured breaths as you sink further. Until tears gather in your eyes when the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Pushing at your gag reflex. 
A pleasured rumble sounds in Andrew’s chest. Vibrating back through your bones. He continues stroking your jaw, making sure you can take every inch.  
“That’s good. You’re doing so well, baby. Start moving if you want.”
Andrew says, trying his best to keep his composure so his desire doesn’t get the better of him. It nearly does when you start moving achingly slow up and down the length of his dick. Your mouth is so consumingly tempting, hot and wet and just perfect. Both a gift and a curse. Luring Andrew to near madness with how good it feels. He’s speechless, wordless. Stuck in this version of heaven. You’ve got him absolutely hooked. Even more so when you start to move faster. Suck harder. Letting saliva drip down your chin and glisten on your skin the way it does on his cock.  
“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this. Your so skilled, so absolutely, fucking wonderful.”
He groans behind his clenched teeth. Resisting the urge to bury himself even deeper into your mouth. You struggle to move faster. Gagging on his cock when it hits your reflex. Andrew looks down at you, noticing your struggle. He gently pulls on your hair. Guiding you off his cock.
“It’s alright, let me help you, okay?”
He asks, but it’s less of a suggestion and more of a command if you want to keep going. You nod in agreement. 
“Yeah, okay.”
Andrew takes a careful hold of your hair, holding your head in place as he brings his hips closer to your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes your lips, it’s so red it’s almost purple. Eager and more than ready to slip back into your mouth.
“Ready?”
He asks one more time and you answer affirmatively again. He accepts this and nudges his dick slowly past your parted lips. Guiding himself back into the heat of your mouth. It’s wet, soft and very, very hot. He waits a moment for you to get used to it once more. Before starting to move. Using your hair to move you up and down. His hips rocking forwards into your mouth. His breath hitching as he feels your teeth gaze him. His thighs clasp either side of your head, knees almost on top of your shoulders.
“That’s it, let me help you. Just like this.”
Andrew praises in a tone that does nothing to conceal how good it feels. Carefully thrusting his cock in and out of your already sore throat. You’re so sweet, letting him do this. Willing to take apart every piece of him and put it back together. It’s something only you can do for him. Yet he’s sure you could do it for anyone. 
“God, that’s just right. You’re doing such a good job. You’re an angel.”
He manages, voice trembling. He rocks his hips faster. Guiding you to suck harder. Feeling every ridge moving back and forth across your tongue. The head is just barely nudging the back of your throat. Andrew is gasping, moaning above you like he’s never experienced something quite so amazing in his life. Something beyond any man’s wildest dreams.
His cock twitches in your mouth. His ecstasy reaching higher and higher. To the point his thighs are trembling, skin highlighted pink with exertion (is that how you spell it? idk). You look up at him. Admiring the way his features are painted with pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut. His long hair is messy and falling into his flushed face. There’s strands sticking to the sides of his face and neck with the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Droplets slide down his collarbones and disappear into his sweater. 
He jerks his cock a little deeper on accident. Coming closer and closer to his finish. Causing you to gag. He opens his eyes with an apology on his lip. But you grasp his hips, pulling him closer. You shove down your gag reflex so you can take him all the way. Tears gathering on your waterline. He takes the hint with widened eyes of surprise and adoration. Carefully thrusting his cock into the depths of your throat, he groans loudly with pleasure. Both hands sinking into and grabbing on your hair. 
Your nose brushes his pelvis. The smell of musk filling your nose. An almost sweet, earthy scent coming from him. You make eye contact through blurry eyes. Andrew’s breath stutters, his legs tensing by the sides of your head. 
“Fuck- darling, so good. I’m gonna- shit. I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Do you want that? Do you want me to cum into your mouth?”
He asks, his words broken and stuttering. Almost failing at forming a sentence entirely. You nod the best you can. Tears and spit running down your face. He moans at your agreement. Somehow feeling hotter and even more aroused by it. 
Andrew thrusts his hips into your mouth. Pushing how much you can take as he chases his high. It’s not more than a minute of nearly reckless movements before he’s cumming into your mouth just as he said he would. His back arching into it as his legs shudder. He moans loudly from the bottom of his chest. His mouth hanging open. Head thrown back with his eyes rolled back into his skull. Shooting warm, thick cum into your mouth. The salty and bitter taste overwhelming your senses, but one you could taste over and over again. You groan around his cock. Causing his legs to jump as he feels the vibrations. 
He pants, remaining motionless in his recovery. His brain needed a moment to recover before piecing itself back together and pulling out of your mouth. There’s a lopsided, still half-gone smile on his face as he looks down at you. Humming happily as you swallow his cum. 
“You’re so amazing, baby.”
Andrew compliments breathlessly. Moving his hands to cup your cheeks and brush the tears away.
“I’m so, so proud of you. Come on, get off your knees.”
The tenderness of his voice is so beautiful. His actions even more so, helping you up off the floor. And positioning you on one of his thighs. 
“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough with you?” 
He questions, his worries calming when you shake your head. Still recovering yourself.
“Good… can I return the favor?”
Thank you so much for reading my first fic 🫶, any constructive criticism is appreciated. I’m going to go do the school work I’ve been procrastinating over to do this instead now. Hopefully, the next fic won’t take over a month to write and I’ll be more active.
-Thad 💚
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anshares · 8 months
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Happy Birthday Shen Qingqiu!!
I like Shen Twins Au so I drew these but I also have another idea for this like game style to know more read under the cut
so basically i was thinking isekai game style if you are familiar with how Persona 3 game the ending of the whole story (and some characters) will be dependent on which character you chose (Male MC or Female MC), in this case you chose your route between Shen Jiu or Shen Yuan cuz tbh the way their storyline worked like persona 3
In persona 3 if you chose FEMC most characters who are supposed to be dead in Male Route (Og route) survived just like with Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan like Shen Jiu Route (Bad end) and Shen Yuan Route (Good end). Also I think itll be fun if like they have a favorability gauge with each characters (LBH, LQJ, YQY etc) and they make gestures like peace sign over the eye or heart hands but then when they hit a certain point instead of the percentage lets say 50 percent itll change to color only ala Villains are Destined Die style (if you all know that webtoon) and each character will have their corresponding color and its meaning the funny part will be how Shen Yuan misinterprets the color meaning of it.
As for the respective character colors for LBH and the other i havent thought that far yet but i'm open to suggestions!
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horanghater · 10 months
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Give Me 20
Summary: If Mingyu learns anything from this experience, it’s that you have 2 ears and 1 mouth because you’re supposed to listen more than you speak. Or something like that.
▸ Pairing: Mingyu x NB!reader
▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+, pwp, smut, established relationship
▸ Warnings: oral (m! receiving)
▸ Word Count: 1.2k
▸ A/N: It’s summer! I got my hat on backwards and it’s fuckin time to party. 🎉🧢 @shuadotcom is serving a lifetime sentence as my beta - thank you! <3 Stoked to be participating in KBCS’s Bon Voyage Bingo event! Prompt: 40 - “I’m sunburnt and dying, so you have to be nice to me.”
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵  ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
One thing about Mingyu? He’s stunning - particularly when he’s stripped down to just his swim trunks and the warm undertones of his skin make him glow in the summer sun. Another thing about Mingyu? The man doesn’t listen - particularly when he’s with his friends and they play hackysack with a single brain cell. 
You’ve finished your drink, the plot of the book you’ve been reading has reached a lull, and it’s been long enough that the gentle beachy breeze isn’t all that cooling anymore. Your beachside day with your boyfriend (and 12 plus 1s) has definitely peaked, but you can think of a much more relaxing way to occupy your time as Mingyu sprints across the sand to your shaded chair during a long-awaited break from the longest game of volleyball you’ve ever witnessed.
“Hey handsome,” you greet weakly, squinting up at Mingyu as he unsuccessfully tries to crowd himself under your umbrella. “Ready to go?” Mingyu smiles sheepishly, hands already clasped together pleadingly as you groan at his body language. “Just a few more rounds, I promise. Please?” “You said that like an hour ago!”
“I know, babe, but we’re playing to see who pays for dinner!” he explains. “And my team is winning!”
You look up at Mingyu over your sunglasses knowingly. “Mingyu, this is an all-inclusive resort. Dinner’s included. Besides, I’ve got something for you to win right here."You spread your legs just a little in your lounge chair, just enough for Mingyu to see. His expression is unreadable save for a puppy-like spark in his eyes.
But alas, even the promise of sex can’t pry Mingyu away from his single-minded shenanigans. The two of you crane your necks when someone yells in the distance to see Jeonghan and Soonyoung slowly burying Chan in the center of the volleyball court. “Gimme 20 minutes, I swe–sshh, I swear! I’ll meet you in the room.”
“20 minutes and that’s it?” “That’s it, scout’s honor! You can sip on something nice, run a li’l bath,” Mingyu offers, hips swaying suggestively for extra effect. “Slip into something….comfortable?”
Annoyed as you want to be about having to wait, you just can’t stay mad at him. You feign a loud sigh. “Fiiine. 20 minutes, though! Pinky promise?” “Pinky promise!” Mingyu’s invisible tail is practically wagging already. When you reach up to lock pinkies, though, someone calls for “Mingyu-hyung” and your boyfriend hastily fistbumps you instead. “Coming!” he calls back, turning on his heel with one last “love you” as you sigh for real this time.
“Mingyu! At least put on some more sunscreen! You’re kinda red!” you call after him.
Mingyu calls back, though somewhat absently, “Sunscreen, got it!”
You roll your eyes, body lazily stretching as you prepare to gather your things and return to your shared room. “Ok then, we’ll see.”
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵  ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
An entire 40 minutes later, you hear Mingyu grunt his way through the door. You’re already showered and dressed in pajamas, playing a word game on your phone. “Y/N,” he cries pitifully, “I’m dying! Looook!” 
You keep your eyes trained on the screen, tone indifferent but just icy enough to let him know he’s in trouble. “It’s been 40 minutes, Gyu.”
Mingyu goes to sit on the edge of the bed, but you swat him away, citing “no outside clothes on the bed”. He stands back up, but shuffles in place pathetically, clearly wanting to be babied. “I know, babe, I’m sorry! I swear I was going to come right up, but we were trying to do something about my sunburn first.” When you finally do look at Mingyu, you see that your adonis has become more of a lobster. He’s terribly sunburned on his chest and back with his shoulders being especially burned like deep red pauldrons atop his typically golden shade. Hissing, you sit up to get a closer look. “Oh, Gyu, that looks pretty nasty.” 
Satisfied with your response, Mingyu wails and continues his performance. “And it is! It hurts so bad I don’t know what to do!”
Just as you’re about to search your bag for aloe, you remember the last thing you said to your boyfriend before his late arrival. “Did you at least start with more sunscreen like I said?”
Mingyu looks at you and you look at him and he keeps looking at you and you point at him accusingly. “You didn’t! Mingyu, what did I say?” The man only gets whinier now that he’s riled you up, grabbing your hand and kissing it mournfully in hopes that it’ll lessen your fussing (it doesn’t). “I know, I know,” Mingyu gripes between kisses. “I was going to and just lost track of time.”
Snatching your hand away dramatically, you scold him. “You sure did! And you got what you deserved!”
Mingyu gingerly perches on the edge of one of the room’s bistro chairs and puts on his biggest pout. “Yeah, I did. Haven’t I suffered enough, baby?”
For what it’s worth, Mingyu genuinely does look pained. You’ve never seen him with sunburn this bad and it’s clear that the travel-sized bottle of obligatory aloe in your vacation bag won’t be enough to soothe him. Seeing your boyfriend in such a delicate state pulls at your heartstrings even though the petty part of you wants to keep saying “I told you so”. “Yeah,” you agree finally, crossing the room to stand in front of him and carefully place his hands on your hips. “I suppose you have. Want me to make you feel better?” Suddenly Mingyu’s patheticness visibly decreases just a little, invisible tail wagging again. “You gonna soothe me?” You grin in response, sinking to your knees as you tug on the hem of his trunks, urging your boyfriend to lift his hips enough to slide them down to his thighs. Mingyu huffs with the effort, but settles quickly on the edge of the chair once more as he places a gentle hand on your head expectantly.
Yet another thing about Mingyu? What he lacks in punctuality, he makes up for with general predictability. It only takes a minute or two of pumping to grow his dick from a modest half chub to an intimidating full mast. You waste no time fitting your mouth over the swollen head of his cock and are rewarded with a contended exhale as Mingyu genty scratches the top of your head appreciatively. 
The two of you fall into a familiar rhythm of you bobbing your head and Mingyu thrusting into your mouth shallowly. The angle’s a little off because he can’t position himself the way he wants to, but your talents have him worked up all the same. Mingyu’s pre hits your tongue with each bob now, coating your tongue with a preview of what’s to come. His pace is getting sloppier and the pads of his fingers are pressing into your scalp insistently now. You can hear him whimpering praises above you, the obscene sounds of your slurping a fitting soundtrack for how prettily he cries from your ministrations. 
Just as suddenly as you forgave Mingyu, you’re punishing him again, pulling away from his grasp with a ‘pop’ and leaving his cock upright in the cold hotel air.
You can tell from his voice that Mingyu’s next sentence was going to be another moan. “Y/N~ I’m sunburnt and dying, so you have to be nice to me!”
“Have to?” Even without looking at him as you stand, you know Mingyu’s internally flinching at your warning tone.
“Please?” he corrects.
“Aww, Gyu. But you’re sunburnt and dying. You shouldn’t strain yourself. I’ll check on you in 40 minutes. Sound good?”
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licorice-tea · 4 months
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Apricity
Pairing: Sabo x reader
Content: fluff, a little kissing, gender neutral reader, short and sweet <3
Word Count: 0.7k
A/N: just a little something i wrote about sabo! i rlly thought about making it longer, bc usually i write at least 1k words or so even in one shots, but i am happy with it as it is now. i hope you like it too, thanks for reading! :)
Apricity
The warmth of the sun in winter.
Sabo drags you out of bed at the “ass crack of dawn.” Or at least, that’s what you describe the time of day as when you complain about him waking you up so early. You grumble and groan until it’s clear you’re not getting out of this early morning excursion.
“The sun is barely up!” Yet, it still momentarily blinds you with its rays when you walk out onto the deck.
He holds your hand- be it to share warmth or so you don’t turn back, you’re not sure. “It’s about a third of the way to its high point-“ then he turns so he’s walking backwards to face you, “and if the sun is up, we should be too.”
The two of you come to a stop on the starboard deck. “No,” you move one of his hands to your waist, “I should be tucked in bed under my warm covers” then the other, “with my warm boyfriend,” and finally looping your arms around his neck, “and we should both be asleep.”
Sabo smiles and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’ll keep you warm.” His hair tickles your ear, but you can’t giggle as you’re still trying to be annoyed with him.
“Hmph.” His hands start to rub up and down your sides as the two of you take to swaying in some type of rhythmless dance. “You don’t even like this kind of cold weather.”
“I know.” Sabo finally shows his face again, much to the chagrin of your chilly neck region (and to the pleasure of your eyes.) “But, I do like when it’s cold and I can feel the sun on my face or back.”
His confession is just cheesy and poetic enough to make you smile, albeit softly. “Hm… Like a cat?”
“How dare you! I think I’d be a lion if I were an animal, at the very least.” Sabo says this all very matter-of-factly, causing you to fall into a fit of quiet giggles in his arms. His eyes track your movements- your smile, the way your eyes crinkle, the very sound of your laughter- while wearing a smile of his own.
You quiet yourself again, still grinning brightly, and shrug. “Still a cat.”
He just stares at you for a moment after that, and you think you must have something on your face. “Sabo? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His blonde hair falls over his eyes as he shakes his head to reassure you. “Everything’s perfect, love.”
Such a simple little pet name, but it still manages to make you blush. You push the hair out of his eyes and end up cupping his face in your hands. Now you’re the one staring, but he doesn’t seem to mind the intent observation. “What was that thing you said about the sun earlier?”
“Hm? That I like how the sun feels in the winter?”
“Yeah.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I think I get what you mean.” It’s freezing outside, and the wind chills every exposed inch of your skin, but none of that seems to matter right now. From the way his smile and his eyes shine; warming you from within, while also squeezing you gently to share his body heat… it’d be impossible to not understand the feeling he describes.
“Good.” Sabo kisses you back, gentle and slow. Like you have all the time in the world- which, you suppose you do. It certainly feels that way when everything is cold; it’s the type of weather where you really just want to stay in bed all day. And yet, here you are outside, entertaining your boyfriend’s desire to feel the sun in winter. “But I like kissing you more, just so you know.”
With the sweetest expression you can muster and a tilt of your head, you ask; “Does that mean we can go back to bed?” Alas, your question is only answered with laughter.
But hey- maybe winter isn’t so bad anyway, when you have the warmth of the sun right in your hands.
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
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This is just a continuation to the Serial Killer part.
Yan! Royal Knight who has always adored you despite it being an unrequited love. While he has sworn to protect his country from any mortal danger, his heart lies in you, swearing to protect you from any type of danger.
Yan! Royal Knight who is always there, watching you while keeping you away from danger whenever he has the time to. Unfortunately enough, he fails to realize that a larger threat has loomed in your life, a serial killer living under the same roof as you.
Yan! Royal Knight who is used to roughing up bastards while either allowing them to know his position as the royal knight or as a random. Either way, he upholds his integrity high by declaring that justice has been served.
Yan! Royal Knight who is a coward despite being one of the feared knights, unable to profess his love to you from the moment you two were children until now.
Yan! Royal Knight who is secretly happy to see that no one has courted you. Obviously, no one dares to court the royal knight's beloved lest they lose their head somewhere.
Yan! Royal Knight who is content just from watching you live from afar until you aren't :)
His twin brother, Erickson, the Serial Killer, had killed you.
It might be subtle in his eyes but never in the others. The second heir of the dukedom had fallen in love with a servant. It was forbidden, obviously, yet his mother did not comment on it.
She couldn't comment anything about it. For someone whose role had been unwillingly stolen, his parents spoiled him with more affection than Erickson could ever receive.
Erickson is the trophy while Noel? Noel is supposed to be the first heir yet the dice chose Erickson. It is a mere game for the eyes of outsiders but for those of knowledge, this is a sign.
The chosen one is Erickson and Noel is forever bound to live as his shadow, overshadowed by his achievements for eternity. Alas, his mother couldn't break the little boy's heart despite a gut-wrenching truth being hidden inside the servant, inside of you.
(Read more: The Curse of the Blankenheim Family)
For just a sliver of unbroken sanity and happiness, one should not know too much. Mother knows the best. If Noel knew, he would definitely spiral into madness and lose all sorts of light in his life. You are his light and those who are not chosen are only given a light of happiness, a light of life, and nothing more.
[This will be detailed further]
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whoopsyeahokay · 4 days
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October Sun
summary: Wally had sequestered himself away to go through the notes you'd sweetly written for him, but, alas, there hadn't been such thing as complete privacy for the ghosts of Split River High since they'd died. Still, that time, the interruption hadn't been without it's benefits.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.
thank you for your patience, guys! 🫶
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.14
Wally sat behind the teacher's desk in an empty classroom, the folder of notes you'd written for him open in his lap, and a cup of lukewarm black coffee at his elbow. The papers he'd read through were fanned across the desk in no particular order, a compilation of documents substantiating what a fucking trainwreck of a ghost he was.
He and the others were officially the worst ghosts in the history of stuck-around spirits—which was A Thing, Wally had learned: Ghosts had options, they could move along (i.e. cross over, and wasn't that a formidable concept) or they could, as the turn of phrase suggested, stick around. Fun fact: it was supposed to be a choice.
Ghost were supposed to, on a whim, sayonara out of the metaphysical world and hop, skip, jump onto the next level of deadness. Another plain set even further apart from the living world that those with a physical foothold couldn't access and those who stuck around couldn't perceive.
Your notes didn't specify where ghosts crossed over to, but you'd scribbled a whole section on how that plain of existence was weirdly more interactive with the living, even toward those who weren't born into magic-inclined bloodlines.
'It's a bit of a one-way street,' You'd scripted, 'Think of it like memories that become perfectly timed gusts of wind or a loved one's favorite song suddenly coming on the radio or randomly finding something you lost right as you think of them...'
In conclusion, the living could invoke the crossed-over and the crossed-over could reach out to reassure the living. Radical.
Wally couldn't help but ponder Janet who'd triumphantly moved on the week before. Of all of them, Wally had been surprised she'd been the first to cross over. Not to say she hadn't deserved to, but she hadn't exactly been a pillar of inspiration within the Afterlife Support Group. Kept herself to herself, quiet to the degree that Rhonda had suspected Janet hadn't been socialized as a child.
The few facts she'd shared had been less about herself and more about her pageant of siblings or her gal pal, Virginia J (as opposed to Virginia P, whose name had made Janet's jaw tick).
Apart from Mr. Martin, Janet had been the longest standing ghost in their haunt. Yet, even after years under Mr. Martin's gentle parenting, it'd taken until last Friday for Janet to finally go into the light.
Wally winced against the first throb of a headache building behind his eyes. An impression more than true pain; like muscle memory, his materialized soul remembering what to do when he overloaded his brain with information.
Maybe it'd taken so long because, unlike the ghosts you'd written about—the ones who could level up whenever they wanted—Wally and the others were trapped. Something tethering them to Split River High's metaphysical structure.
Were curses real?
Wally shuffled through the papers he had yet to go through, scanning quickly to find words that would support the idea. If ghosts were real, and astral projection, and glowing eyes and cosmic connections and In Betweens, surely curses weren't unreasonable.
"What're you doing?" A slightly accented voice cut the silence, jolting Wally back into the present.
"Ah!" Wally dropped the papers into his lap and, without thinking it through, folded over the spread on the desk, arms wide, upper body hiding very little except what was directly beneath him. "Nothing!"
Ajay raised an eyebrow. Not saying a word, he reached out and extracted a single piece of paper, thumb and forefinger lifting it by the corner as if it was contaminated.
Immediately, Wally grabbed it out of Ajay's grasp, sweeping it and the other papers into a messy pile that he then shoved into the folder. Before Ajay could ask what the very hell, Wally opened the bottom desk drawer, dropped the folder in and then kicked the drawer closed with a bang.
Ajay didn't falter, eyebrow still raised, expression transmitting how ridiculous he found the situation.
"So," He began, perching himself on the corner of the desk. A grin spread across his mouth, turned sharp and wicked as he leveled Wally with a look that said, I know everything. Which apparently, Ajay did. "She finally gave you some answers, huh?"
Time screeched to a halt, brakes on a bullet train, and Wally scrambled to get his brain back online before he spontaneously combusted because, ever so sorry, but what the utmost fuck?
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Wally attempted, but, again, he was a miserable liar. His frown was too deep, his shoulders too high, his lips clamped shut the way they did when he feigned ignorance.
"Girlie with the third eye?" Ajay said, rolling a hand, then he chuckled, "Don't worry, man, we know about her."
Wally dropped the Z-List worthy act as the rug pulled out from under him. "She told you?"
"No, no, no, nothing like that." Ajay replied. "She's just really bad at hiding it."
"She is?" Wally wasn't so sure. Recent events notwithstanding, he'd tried and failed your sophomore year to out you. You'd put on an incredibly convincing front of having no clue Wally was there.
When Wally glanced back at Ajay, his expression had flattened.
"Bro."
"What?!" Wally lifted and dropped his arms, "I don't think she's that obvious. Does Mr. Martin know? Rhonda?" Because, yeah, if Rhonda knew, she would've been all over you in seconds, demanding answers and roping you into getting Rhonda the fuck out of there. "Charley?"
"As far as I know," Ajay said, "Only me, Bernie, and Katelynn figured it out. And Mina."
Wally stared at Ajay with wide eyes and the cusp of a pout, "You talk to Mina?"
Ajay cleared his throat, gaze knocking this way and that, a nervous edge to his demeanor. A flush rose from his neck to his cheeks and, wow, Wally hadn't been any the wiser. What the hell else was he missing?
"Back it up, buddy. You and Mina?"
"What?" Ajay glared without heat, "You and that chick with a heartbeat?"
Wally raised his hands placatingly, "No judgement, man, I'm just surprised! You never told me." And then Wally registered, "H o w does Mina know?"
"She saw you guys making out in the theater last night."
Damn. You really were bad at hiding your abilities.
"Her sister was much better at keeping things on the DL." Ajay said in a disappointed parent of a tone.
"Her sister went here?"
Ajay's eyes narrowed, "Don't you two talk when you're together? Or is it all just tonsil hockey and hand jobs?"
"Hey!" Wally leaned forward and smacked Ajay on the shoulder, "Don't be gross, dude. It's not like that." He resettled, arms crossed, ankle rested on his knee, "We basically just met yesterday. Haven't had a chance to swap childhoods yet."
"Fair enough." Ajay gathered himself up on the desk more fully, sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees. "Her sister was here way back in the day. Graduated the year before Katelynn died."
Wally did the math, "Jeez, that's an age gap." He looked at Ajay, "She can see ghosts, too?"
"Naw, but she could feel us." He snickered, "Apparently the family rule didn't apply to her—" Ah yes, the don't tell anyone you can see ghosts, including the ghosts rule you'd mentioned. Apparently it had been a warning your great-aunt had imparted as soon as you'd been out of the womb. "—She'd even bring me food from my culture once in awhile."
Ajay seemed to drift into the fond memory, all dreamy smile and faraway eyes. Then he came back to himself and fixed Wally with a determined look, "You can get your girlfriend to do it."
"I'll...see what I can do...?"
"That's the right answer, my friend."
Wally was still totally lost, "What do you mean feel us?"
"She's an empath." Ajay explained. "She could feel how I felt, sort of map out who I was based on her senses. Apparently, when I think of home, the air smells like my mother's biriyani." He snorted, flapped a hand to move himself along, and then said, "She couldn't hear me, but she'd talk to me sometimes when there was no one around."
"That's a trip."
"Yeah. But it was cool. She helped me feel less...alone."
Wally had had no idea Ajay had ever felt lonely. Granted, the guy was as reserved as he was a certified genius. Though not as withdrawn as Janet had been, he rarely opened up. Preferred to be the one who listened than the one who did the talking.
There had been a short section of time when he'd been more forthcoming about his personal life, his life before, and now that Wally could construct the timeline, it fit within the span when your sister would've attended Split River High.
Amused, Wally sniggered to himself. After all the grief your family had supposedly given you about keeping your abilities a secret, they'd sure as hell managed to weave themselves into the fabric of the metaphysical world so thoroughly, the Golden Rule might as well have never existed.
Was that the stuff irony was made of?
Wally and Ajay sat in companionable silence for a moment as Wally collected his thoughts. He wondered if Ajay had ever felt the things Wally had about being stuck in the high school. After stringing together the right words, Wally asked him as much and wasn't surprised to learn that, yep, Ajay had felt it as well. As if he'd been reeled back to autoshop like a fish on a hook.
"She think she can fix it?" Ajay asked, picking at a thread on the in-seam of his coveralls.
"She's going to look into it." Wally replied as he ran his hands through his hair. "Hey, uhm, Ajay?" He sucked in then released his lower lip, unable to look Ajay in the eye, "You aren't gonna tell anyone, are you?"
"I've spent the last twenty years not telling you about her sister, didn't I?"
"And then you told me." Wally pointed out.
"Yeah, but only because I know you've been making out with the Baby Ghost Buster."
"I'm telling her you called her that."
Ajay laughed, "Be my guest, bro," and swiveled off the desk, "Come on, it's almost time for Group. Mr. Martin wants to start planning for the weekend." He twirled his finger like an unenthusiastic noisemaker.
Wally stood, hesitated momentarily as he grabbed his coffee mug and stared at the closed desk drawer. He wouldn't bring the folder to Group, of course, but he wondered whether he should broach some of the subjects within its pages. Predominantly how Mr. Martin had been able to help Janet cross over when it felt like the school itself was working against them.
Wally had known Ajay was perceptive, but today he was proving himself to be on the verge of telepathic.
"I wouldn't tell Mr. Martin anything." He disclosed warily, and Wally saw him looking at the drawer before he glanced back up, "Not until your girl gives you the okay."
It was a relief to know Ajay had your back without Wally asking. And it was also kind of nice to know that he had someone to talk to about the insane amount of what the fuckery he'd learned in the last 24hrs.
But before he gave anything away, Wally needed to be sure, "Mina won't say anything, will she?"
"She wouldn't. But if it'll make you more comfortable, I'll ask her not to myself."
Wally clapped Ajay on the back, "Thanks, man."
As they strolled toward the gym, Wally enlightened Ajay to how things had developed in the last couple of days, a pressure in his chest dislodging with every step. At some point, he'd have to tell you about Ajay, it was the right thing to do. But, for now, Wally simply allowed himself to lean on his friend for support and untangle the knots he hadn't been willing to acknowledge he'd worked himself into.
💀___________________________
PART THIRTEEN
note: updates might be a little sporadic until i'm back home, my loves ✨ it's been really difficult to get into the right headspace in an environment i'm not 100% familiar with. i have all the ideas but none of the comfort 🥹 next update should be Wednesday next week (if i don't get the chance to write over the weekend)!
if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀
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orqheuss · 1 year
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How could I fear any hurricane?
(Ominis Gaunt/GN!Reader HURT/COMFORT)
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Summary:
Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me Or that I was on the brink How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily? *** The ancient magic that burned under your skin was beginning to become a problem, and when one fateful day in Defense Against the Dark Arts changes things for the worse, will Ominis be there to help you pick up the pieces?
Based on the new Hozier song, "Francesca"
Word Count: 4.8k Ao3 link here
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It was supposed to be a normal day in Defense Against the Dark Arts— dueling day, your favorite until the events of the previous year. Everything you once loved about the sport, and sometimes about magic in its entirety, was now fraught with tragedy. 
Your heart threatened to beat out of your rib cage and run for cover when you stepped up to the stage, wand shaking in your white knuckled grip and a primal fear quivering in your eyes. Ominis, the boy gracefully standing across from you on the platform, had sensed your trepidation the moment you entered the classroom. Many wouldn’t notice, except for the select few that had the privilege of being his close friend, but he was deeply worried about you. You’d gone through more than even some of the strongest Aurors ever did in your short magical lifetime— it was only natural that facing down the deadly end of a wand made you uneasy. You chose to ignore the telltale downturn of the blonds eyebrows and the minuscule, barely noticeable frown that crossed his visage as he prepared himself for battle, the tip of his wand changing from a comforting read to a blinding blue as he readied his spells. You'd perfected the art of hiding your emotions early on, and with that came the knowledge of noticing even the smallest of shifts from anyone you encountered in conversation. It was easier to ignore the worry of others rather than focus on it; if you thought about it for too long you'd start to spiral deeper into your mind, and hiding how you felt would become increasingly harder. 
Yes, the idea of being on the tail end of a wand made you nervous, but that was not where you held your fear. Not many knew about the powerful magic that burned through your veins, the unknown levels of new, enticing darkness that invaded your soul deep down in the repository long ago— not anyone alive, that is. Only your dearly departed Professor Fig knew about the lengths you went to to protect Hogwarts’ most dangerous secret. You remembered how it felt to have all that stolen pain, all that strange, ancient knowledge slither its way into you from the ominous, ethereal darkness above. Most of all, you remembered how all that power made you feel— how tempting it was to unlock the cage inside your soul and let all the darkness pour out of you like a demented waterfall. That was what you were afraid of: yourself. You hadn't dueled since that fateful day, and the pulsing feel of the absconded ancient magic swirling in your chest sent a spike of fear from your head to your toes. The idea of simply sitting out of this duel came to mind quickly, and you began to come up with multiple ways to slip out into the hall and down to the Undercroft where no one would bother you.
Alas, it was Professor Hecat that made the decision for you, pairing you with the exceedingly kind blond that held your affections. Ominis Gaunt was a capable duelist, this wasn’t really that much of a secret, but you hadn’t had the chance to tell him about everything that happened to you under the school all those months ago. The thought of hurting him, hurting the one you held so much affection for, sent dread to coil around your throat and choke you. You'd grown close to the Slytherin boy over the course of the previous year, often spending time alone together in the Undercroft when Sebastian would have one of his stubborn tantrums. Hurting him, maiming him in any way would kill you inside, you were sure of it. You tried to school your breathing, letting your breaths naturally ebb and flow from your lungs as you waited for the starting bell. You could get through this— the magic was yours, all you needed to do was control it. 
Your throat began to close up, images dancing through your mind of crackling red curses and spirals of death-bringing green lightning bolts clouding your vision like one too many shots of fire whiskey. You recalled what had happened to those who tried to hurt you before, how their bones snapped one by one as you threw them to the ground with deranged bursts of untold power. Even after months of time away from the castle, the visions of those you killed still screamed at you day and night. There were times when a simple sound, a familiar movement of a wand, or even a particular string of words would send you reeling back in time to your darkest moments. You silently prayed to anyone listening that you would remain in your own body, and your own timeline, during this duel. Ominis smiled at you reassuringly, promising you with his eyes that everything was going to be okay. 
That beautiful fool— holding so much faith in your wretched disaster. He didn't know of the hurricane that threatened to rip itself out of you every waking moment of the day and leave nothing in its wake but death and destruction— fire, brimstone, and ruin. 
You should've listened to Sebastian and skipped class today like he did. Everything would be so much simpler if you weren't so stubborn. 
The bell chimed, and the battle began. 
Ominis waited patiently for you to make the first move, eyes narrowed as he listened to the world around him. Ever so strategic, or simply more kind than what was good for him, he was letting you set the pace for the duel, a decision that was for naught in the end. You could feel the lightning begin to scorch under your skin, casting a soft glow through your periwinkle veins that only you could see. More panic trickled through your joints, nearly sending your knees buckling as you raised your wand and pointed it at the boy. You threw a simple basic cast, praying that the battle would be over soon and you could quell your pounding heartbeat. Ominis replied in turn, sending a blast your way with a strong, resolute voice. 
“Expelliarmus!” 
You quickly shielded yourself with protego, the stupefy that came next being second nature to you at this point. With each cast your mind fuzzed more and more as you let your body go through the motions. You threw a particularly hard spell Ominis’ way, watching as he quickly side stepped— his body turned to the side, only his profile visible as the spell flew inches from his face, screaming through the air and smacking into the pillar just beyond. 
The loud explosion shook your soul loose, dissolving the cloud behind your eyes like a sudden downpour and dyeing your vision black. It was like your ghost had left your body, floating high above the crowd of students standing around you. The sight of your form through your own eyes like an omnipotent third party was unnerving— it was every time you dissociated from this plain of existence. One moment you were in the DADA classroom, and the next you were back at one of the many poacher camps you raided in the Forbidden Forest. You remembered this day; you had gone looking for trouble after an argument with Sebastian regarding his sister and his journey deeper into dark magic. Stumbling upon the camp had been a complete accident— little did the souls huddled under tents and drinking with their friends around the fire know, this would be their last day on earth. 
You could hear the shouts of the dark wizards around you screeching in your ears, their spells shooting past you on your left and right, each one nearly slamming into you and sending you flying. Your eyes narrowed against the volume of the blood rushing to your head, and you gripped your wand tighter against the sweat that clammed your palms. Your body shook with rage and nerves as you launched barrels towards the ones closest to you, your personal brand of lightning shooting from the tip of your wand and burning one of them where they stood. You easily pulled a few of the loyalists closer, levitating them in the air and freezing them like stuck snowflakes, letting your magic throw them to the ground and shatter— crystal glass against a linoleum floor. Their screams of anger turned to sobs of fear as you took them out one by one until there was only a single poacher remaining, his fury seeping into the ground below and through the space around you like a thick fog. The look on his face was as vivid in your mind as it was the day you stood against him. You could see the curl of his lip as he tugged his mouth into a snarl, his eyebrows furrowed and his teeth bared like an animal cornered. You couldn't help but think he reminded you of Ominis, safely tucked away in the castle just over the treetops. His blond hair shone like scattered streaks of Aurora Borealis across the Scottish highlands of Lochinver. His build was similar, as well; he couldn't have been older than you, maybe closer to seventeen or eighteen. The main difference was his eyes— a honeysuckle hazel rather than the stormy oceans of your quiet crush. You could work with that, if you just looked into his eyes you wouldn't see your friend as you killed him. The smell of blood was thick in the air as you circled each other, wands drawn and narrowed in at heart level, haunches raised and hair standing at attention. The crackle of magic was heavy around you— a weight on your arms and chest, pushing you down and denying you from flight. Not that you'd run, though; if you ran the survivor would tell the others— the brave ancient warrior fleeing from the scene of the crime and running back to the safety of the tall castle walls. You couldn't do that, your pride wouldn't let you. Your own anger festered under your skin, freezing in your veins and creating little icicles of blood and flesh. Your eyes shot to the arch of his arm, his wand swinging through the air and a curse dangling from his lips. Your pupils glowed a startling crimson as you cast your own. You were faster, stronger, more powerful— the young naive boy didn't stand a chance. 
“Diffindo!” 
The world around you bled like painted blue moonlight and you were back in the classroom again. Mere seconds had passed, but for you it felt like a millennia. Your eyes focused on the blond across from you, crouching on the ground and his arms over his head for protection. Behind him on the wall was a long scar in the stone, ash falling from its chasm and smoke billowing from the wound. The situation at hand slammed into your brain like a bullet, and pure unfiltered terror flooded your entire body— fear of the reactions of those around you, fear of yourself. The students that stood around the table looked on in horror, some standing farther away than you last saw them with their hands raised over their wand holsters in defense. They stared at you like you were a charging beast— in all honesty, maybe you were. 
Leander was the first to speak, his voice carrying through the silenced room. “What was that, you freak!? You could have killed him!” 
There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd, but your eyes couldn't move away from the boy across from you. 
Ominis stood shakily, his arms still cradled around his face and head in case of any aftershocks in your violent natural disaster. Only when his wand told him you were still did he untuck himself. The look on his face stole all the air from your lungs. 
He was paler than usual, his skin as ivory as bone against the cream walls of the castle. Tremors shook him where he stood, body vibrating like a barren tree stuck in the harsh winter chill. What really shocked you were his eyes. His eyes were wide in the socket, the bluebell irises vibrating and the white lightning streaming from the center nearly luminescent like an animal at night. 
The realization struck you across the face: he was scared of you. 
The boy that had gone through years of living with his family, endured countless cruciatus curses at the hands of his own mother and father, was scared of you. 
Your hands shook as you opened them from their white knuckled clench against your wand, letting the length of wood fall from your fingertips and clatter to the ground. You stared at them, watching the blue lightning spark from your nails. 
The voices in your head hissed at you, a mix of your own and the sound of the ones you loved most. 
First was yourself, an echo that sounded more like a growl than a human being: Locus Naturae — Freak, monstrosity. 
Then was Sebastian, the same hurt inflection that resided in his words the day of the catacombs: You almost killed him; you almost killed your best friend— my family. 
Then Professor Fig in the most disappointed tone you'd ever heard from him: Why couldn't you just be normal? Why did you have to be like this?
Finally, Ominis himself, anger bleeding into each and every one of his words: You're just as dangerous as everyone else says. They should hunt you for sport like the beast that you are. 
Your hands came up to your head, covering your ears as you winced against the sudden influx of sound. The voices screamed louder than the silence of the classroom, and your eyes slammed shut so you couldn't see the disdainful glares of your peers anymore. They all hated you— all feared you. It was a witch hunt for the ages, and you were their scapegoat. 
One voice cried louder than the others, the lit sounding vaguely like an old Hogwarts professor you’d grown to know through multiple pensives and diary entries. Isadora’s voice shook with intensity as it rocketed through your skull. 
Run. You need to run. 
You turned tail and ran from the room, the door slamming shut behind you with a mighty clang, drowning out the desperate call of your name at your back. The stone floors echoed your footfalls as you let your body carry you wherever it wanted to go, wherever it needed you to go to be away from your wretched memories. Leander was right, you were a freak— a monster. No matter how hard you tried to fit in, how much you longed to be like the people around you, you were perpetually different— irrevocably, inordinately odd. A wolf was still a wolf, Even in a cage. Even dressed in silk and school colors. You had to go far away, where no one would find you, where you couldn't hurt anyone else. 
You didn't make it further than the Undercroft before your body began to fail you, legs trembling as you unlocked the clock and scrambled down the spiral staircase. Once you had crawled to the farthest corner of the room the floodgates inside of you opened and every terrible feeling you had came exploding out of you. Sobs fell from your lips like a constantly dripping faucet as you drew your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your body and cowering as small as you possibly could. You were disgusted with yourself— with this awful magic that festered inside of you that you never asked for. Everything would have been so much simpler if the Hogwarts book and quill never found you, if Professor Fig never appeared at your doorstep and ushered you into this magical world of light and dark— good and evil. There was no grey inside of you, the blackened sludge that swam in the very core of your being made that explicitly clear. You could never be happy, never be safe while that was curled under your ribs, and if you couldn't be safe with yourself, no one would ever be safe in your presence. 
You knew that you needed to leave— needed to run as far as possible from everyone you’d grown attached to and hide this creature inside of you. It was the right thing to do. You could feel your heart splintering more and more with each passing moment and terrible, self sabotaging thought, but you couldn’t stop them from coming. Your mind wanted you dead, and there was nothing you could do about it. The resolute organ pounded under your flesh, and your brain screamed at you with happy images of your friends in a vein attempt to stop your downward spiral.
You thought of Sebastian’s warm smile the first day you beat him at a duel— his laugh when you both successfully snuck into the restricted section of the library ringing like wind chimes on a spring day. One moment you were laughing with him, then the next you were watching it morph into the heartbroken, melancholic anguish that turned his lips into a frown after he had killed his uncle, something you could have stopped. 
The soft smile of Ominis when you first introduced yourself in the common room was next, the lilt of mischievousness in his voice from messing with the first years stealing your heart from day one. The image shifted to his sobs in the Scriptorium, crystal tears spilling from his eyes and bile hot on his breath after finding the dead body of his dear aunt Noctua— his pain was your doing, of course. You manipulated him into going down there. It was your fault. 
There was so much pain you could have stopped, so much you could have prevented if you never came here in the first place. Now, you were attached to them, and your heart bled at the idea of abandoning them.
Everything you’d ever let go of had claw marks on it, and you refused to mar their skin any further than you already did. If you let go first, there would be no scars to heal. 
The creak of the Undercroft gate sounded through the room, vibrating the stone floor under you as you curled tighter into yourself. The soft glow of Ominis’ wand first came into sight, and you desperately held your breath in hope that he wouldn’t find you, closing your eyes like a child hiding from the monster under their bed. He scanned the space quickly, pinpointing you quite easily in your corner of solitude. Even if he didn’t have his wand, your soft sniffles were all he needed to hear to know where you were. His own heart shattered at the sound of your pain, and he quickly made his way over to where you were crouched. You rose shakily to your feet, one arm wrapped around your torso in protection and the other held in front of you to keep the blond at a distance. 
His eyebrows furrowed deeply at his brow in worry as he spoke. “There you are! Are you okay—”
“Stay away from me!” 
Your pleas stopped Ominis in his tracks, the hand that he raised to grasp your shoulder in comfort lowering slightly. He flinched at your outburst, his expression shifting into one of hurt. 
You spoke again, your voice slightly stronger but still holding a minute shake. “Don’t come any closer, please.” 
You could hear him shift his weight in front of you, heeding your wishes for now. “What’s going on? Why did you run away?” 
Your eyes snapped open, an incredulous look scrunching all the muscles in your face. “What do you mean ‘why did I run’!? I nearly sliced you in half, Ominis!” 
He scoffed, his face relaxing with relief. “Is that all? My dear, I’ve gone through much worse than that. Now please, let's go back to class—”
“NO!” 
He jumped at your outburst, realizing quickly the severity of the situation. You never yelled at him— Sebastian, maybe, but never him.
“I almost hurt you, Ominis. How are you so okay with that? I would never forgive myself if I caused you harm. Leander is right, I’m a monster.”  
Ominis stepped closer, letting his fingers brush against the palm of your hand still held aloft to keep him at bay. You flinched, cowering away further into the wall. 
He shook his head, taking a step backwards and raising his hands in a placating manner. “You’re not a monster, it was an honest mistake. No harm done, see?” He patted down his front, swishing his cloak to show you if there were any hidden injuries that you hadn’t seen previously. You wrapped both arms around your middle, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“But what if it wasn’t a mistake? What if I wanted to actually hurt someone?” You inhaled a stuttering breath. “I’ve killed before, Ominis! What if one day I just snap and you can’t dodge in time? What if I kill you, or Sebastian, or Poppy, or Natty!?” 
He didn’t even need a moment to think before he replied, too desperate to get you away from the metaphorical ledge you’ve decided to hang over. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, but that doesn’t make you a bad person! You wouldn’t purposely hurt us, and that’s all that matters. Where is all of this coming from?” 
You shook your head harshly, your hair smacking against your cheeks. “This magic inside of me, this ancient power that I can’t control is too much. It’s just festering there, waiting to be let out so it can wreak havoc across the entire world like a damned hurricane. I’m scared of myself, Ominis, and you should be scared of me too.” Your breathing heaved from your chest, eyes wild and expression forlorn. “You should go— you need to go.”
He sighed heavily, annoyed at how incredibly stubborn you could be at times. “No, you can’t get rid of me like that— that’s not your choice to make. There’s a reason I get along with Sebastian so well; if I find something that’s worth it, I can be just as muleheaded as the best of them, maybe even more so if I truly mean it.” 
He reached for you again, his fingers nearly wrapping around your shoulder as you side stepped, spinning from his reach and growling like a feral beast. Animals in the beginning stages of rabies try to get as far away from people as possible; you were just trying to save him from your infectious bite before it was too late. “Why are you so insistent on staying here with me? You should be running for the hills!” 
Anger blazed in his chest— not at you, but at the people who made you feel this way. He was furious at Leander for calling you a freak, at the professors for pushing you to the point of no return, and hell, maybe a little at himself for not noticing your descent sooner. Ominis had been your best friend for nearly a year, and had harbored feelings for you for what felt like since he was born, and either you were too good at hiding how you felt or he was too dense to notice anything outside of his own little bubble. The blond had to change this, fix this somehow, and he had to do it now.
His words were strong when he spoke, determined that you understood what he had been saying since he met you last year. “Because I love you!” His shout echoed against the tall ceilings of the room. “I love you so much it hurts to breathe when you aren't near.” 
The blond took a steadying breath, pouring all of his emotion into this very moment. “I didn’t think I needed to say it— I thought I was being obvious! Even Sebastian could tell how I felt, and he’s as dumb as a dugbog about women. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.” 
It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs in one grand swoop. “Ominis—”
The blond continued, cutting you off. “You are the pain under my ribs— the ache in my heart. If I loved you any more than I already do I fear I wouldn’t be able to stand it.” 
He stepped closer, approaching slowly like you would run at any second, and gently took your hand into his. You let him hold you, his warm skin brushing against your cold palms and thawing your chilled heart. 
“I know you feel like everything wrong in the world is your fault— I feel the same quite often, but it’s not. I don’t understand, did you think I would give up on you? That you could shake this love from me?” He tilted your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. Even though he couldn’t truly see you, it was like he was looking into your very soul. “Darling, did you really think that I would scare so easily?” 
He brushed your hair behind your ear, cradling your face with his hand. “My life has always been a storm. How could I possibly fear such a lovely hurricane?” 
The tears that were gathering in your lower lashes finally fell, dripping down your face just to be wiped away by the thumb smoothing over your cheekbone. “It’s not that— I don’t think—” You stuttered, the words getting trapped just under your jaw. “I’ll only hurt you more. You don’t deserve the rain, you deserve sunshine. I can’t give you that.” 
He shook his head, quietly shushing you as he brought the hand holding yours up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the shivering skin. “If there was anyone in this world that I would be okay with causing me harm, it would be you. Even if you hurt me, I will always come back to you, because I know that you didn’t mean it— you love too much to truly cause pain.” 
Ominis closed the final inches between the both of you, pulling you to his chest in a half hug and pressing his temple against yours. He laughed at the small sniffles that escaped you, feeling your resolve disintegrate by the second. “Now, must I continue to wax poetic, or have my words finally struck home inside that thick skull of yours?” 
You chuckled, a pathetic thing that was more snot than sound, but nodded nonetheless. The wiry boy smiled in true relief, nuzzling his teeth against your cheek and pressing delicate kisses to your eyelids and nose. “There you are. There’s my dove.” 
You tugged him the rest of the way against your chest, tucking your face in his neck and holding onto his robes like he would disappear if you let go. He let you cry against him, soaking his collar with your grief as he decorated your head with a crown of fluttered kisses. Once your breathing slowed and your words returned, you whispered against his skin— a prayer at the pews of adoration. 
“I love you, too.” 
He held you impossibly tighter, syncing his heartbeat and breathing with yours until you were one. Ominis moved his mouth to your ear, his hot breath fanning through your hair like a gentle summer breeze. He smelled like home. “We will get through this together. I won’t let you fall, my darling— I will always be there to hold you steady.” 
After what felt like centuries of waiting, he softly touched his petal-toned lips to yours, silencing all voices in your head for good. It was like heaven itself was kissing you. After a moment he pulled back, his lips just slightly ghosting over yours with his murmured affections. 
“Je t'aimerai jusqu'à mon dernier souffle.” The way his mouth wrapped around the foreign words sent a shiver down your spine. “Même si tu es la cause de ma mort.” 
Sebastian found you both there later in the evening, curled around each other on the settee like a human knot and sleeping the rest of the day away. His gaze softened at the tiny, serene smile that just barely stretched the corners of your mouth. He would bother you both about what happened later, but for now he turned around and left the chasm under the school, content that his best friends finally found a little piece of happiness in all this chaos. 
What he didn’t know, though, was that you didn’t find happiness; happiness found you. 
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French translation: "I will love you until my last breath. Even if you are the cause of my death."
Try and tell me French Ominis wouldn't be hot as shit I DARE YOU
***
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tht0nesimp · 1 month
Text
Expectations
tw: kidnapping, pet play, this is actually half baked, punishments, shal being a dick, infantilism
A/N: this is for @high-bats-writing! Sorry this fic is probably going to be really crappy! (P.S you should totally go read the inspiration for this post < https://www.tumblr.com/high-bats-writing/746620115972440065/happy-easter-hiiii-in-the-headcanons-you-did?source=share
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Out of everything you’d been tested with by him, this took the cake, it took the whole fucking bakery.
you’d handled everything he threw at you but this was simply too much, spending years trying to stay away from everything trackable was hard but knowing it was all just in vain because you were nevertheless trapped in his hands again? The knowledge of knowing your efforts weren’t worth anything in the end was devastating.
“Smile!” His cheery attitude becoming a frown when you used your—thankfully free—hands to shield your face from the camera he had in his hands
“It’s fine, I guess, we’ll have plenty of time to get a photo of you in there after all! Won’t we?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he spoke, encouraging your silence as he continues “you escaped for 2 years? How long do you think I should keep you in there?”
normally you would avoid showing weakness to him, but you couldn’t stop the widening of your eyes “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done what I did” he tilted his head “You don’t have to be sorry, you showed me your true colors!” He chuckled
As he placed a dragging finger down a bar on the cage, you shuddered; quickly finding purchase under one of the plentiful blankets in the cage, one thing you couldn’t complain about was the near suffocating amount of warmth in the normally cold house—well, cold from what you remember from 2 years ago…
Alas, the blankets didn’t protect you from the hand that found your head. Petting your hair reminiscent of petting an animal after it did something silly, something stupid, but something endearing enough to make its owner remain entertained.
And you suppose that may be what he sees you as at the end of the day, a shivering animal used to biting to show affection. Used to having to weakly fight, the only real difference being that your owner in this situation had no intention of saving you
He kept his eyes focused on you, seeing your foot brush against the bowl at the bottom of the cage seeming to remind him “I told myself I’d make you beg, but we can start that tomorrow along with your reeducation. I’ll go fill that up”
he disappeared for a brief moment, before returning with the small bowl full of water, making you reluctantly remember the leaky faucet in the kitchen, wondering he’d ever fixed it like your told him to.
The smile that graced his feature when you saw him crush some form of pill into the clear surface of the water was incriminating alone, but looking at the small off-color dissolving particles in the water was enough to deter away your want to fix the aching thirst in your throat in the moment
Even as you expected some type of negative reaction from your apprehension, he just kept talking. Seemingly excited at getting the chance to act out a fantasy especially after losing you for so long.
his words only proved to spur on a waterfall of unfortunate thoughts, melancholy and upsetting, as they flowed through your mind; wanting to overflow into something more.
“Why are you drugging me?” The words came out weaker than what you might hope, almost dying on your tongue. “Not drugs, just vitamins since I don’t plan on feeding you all too much while you’re down here. Lest it’s like an animal, animals have to work for their food!” He clapped like a child at the zoo “but I don’t want you to be malnourished”
Comfort was never his strong suit, but in the moment it seemed believable enough to allow yourself to indulge in the clear liquid resting in the bowl at the bottom of—dare you say it—your cage
you took a sip of the water, diving your head down as you figured he might not have a great reaction at you trying to pick it up to drink it.
you struggled to drink a sufficient amount, settling for the small sip you were able to get from the bedazzled bowl, almost grateful you hadn’t noticed the “disobedient slut” in pink rhinestones on the front up until you pulled away due to your slight frenzy.
“You’re a natural” he muttered under his breath, getting a quick photo before his phone rang “must be troupe work! Be a good doll and stay right there for me”
you just hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long, after all, 2 years is a long time to spend alone.
Shal chuckled when he heard the slight sigh that left your chapped lips when he left the room, 2 years is a long time to spend alone, and a maddening time to spend with a monster—especially one like him.
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