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h0efor2ho · 2 days ago

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Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change. As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind.

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed.

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you��re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss.

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance, his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow.

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile.

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him.

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you.

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be.

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

#wonwoo hard hour #wonwoo smut #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo hard thoughts #svt smut #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen wonwoo smut #wonwoo

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threepandas · 6 hours ago

Text

Bad End: Snake Bride

There were pudgy little yellow creatures everywhere, here. As common as squirrels, it seemed. They looked like squishy, somber, ditto-faced Pikachus...sorta? I made a note of it. Stopping to make a few sketches. Not that anyone here would ever get the reference, mind you. And they didn't have the iconic tail. More of a nubby little hamster tail?

I'd have to figure out a better description. For the bestiary. Not to mention a suitably cute name, assuming they weren't deadly, after all...

You never knew, with hidden realms like these.

Throughout my training, the other disciples and I had been beaten over the head with countless tales of "it looked cute/pretty/beautiful/holy/or otherwise harmless AND THEN TRIED TO KILL US. Do NOT make our mistakes! I will pull you from the jaws of death! Just to kill you myself!!" by our Shizun. The man could rant for hours.

He still couldn't let go that a glowing, flower patterned, butterfly tried to rip his throat out. And? Since he technically for them "first"? (As far as anyone can find.) He got to name then poor creatures.

Which is why, there exists a very beautiful species of highly deadly butterfly... called the "flying demon rat bastard spawn".

(God, I love Shizun so much. He is so, SO petty. Hilarious, vengeful, the man's the living manifestation of "target sighted". Man has beef with specific TREES for god sake. I wish I had HALF that kind of energy. Even if it DID get us banned from like... so many places.)

I tried to get a good look at the little guys mouth, seeing one yawn. Hmmm... the teeth suggest venom. Better not startle any of them... but NOT I'm gonna need to catch one to milk it. Great. They seem fast...

A knock out array? No. Need them to want to bite me, so I can get a venom sample...

Crouching, I mulled over the problem. Admiring the little creatures as the clambered up and down the strange flora of this realm. It was fascinating. Humbling, in a way. When, I considered that? No one else had DONE this before. I knew it for a fact. Every single reference to this hidden realm? Was from either the immortal who created it... or four hundred years later, the immortal who sacked the placed.

It was hard to get into, hard to find, didn't boast any supposed ten thousand year treasures or legendary beasts. Just? A humble pocket of life. Started and left to cultivate. Shift and change. Grow!

Who CARES what uses the creatures or plants have?! This place should be STUDIED! All these realms should be studied! They're amazing!!

I spot a moss I haven't collected yet and carefully take a sample. Noting it's location on the map I've started (which is a mess, I fear I definitely have no future there). Of course, as is so often the case? Finding one sample leads to another. Moss leads to "oh hey, a mushroom" to "is that bird or a leaf?" And so on and so on. I nearly forget to make camp.

(It was a bird. It just looked like leaves! Fascinating camouflage!)

Only noticing the light shifting qualities, drags me from my hyperfocus. A nasty (or, I guess, productive? For an immortal.) habit. I had lost days to it, before. Disappearing into the library or some work room, back on the peak, for time blurringly long periods of time. Inedia keeping me from hunger. Younger disciples bringing me tea.

There was a reason, after all, I never made Head Disciple. Even though I got along great with Shizun. I was about as responsible as a goldfish. Entirely too focused on my own studies, to be honest. But to be fair? Let's see YOU focus! When there is so much... I don't know, Xianxia bullshit?

(IS it Xianxia bullshit? Or is it Xuanhuan bullshit? Fuck. It's been a life time. I literally can not not remember. Let's see YOU remember the differences! After literal decades!!)

(God, I miss my books. And the internet. And TV. Honestly? I miss everything.)

Fuck! Side tracked! Again!!

Careful not to step on any of the marshmallow-y not-pikachus, I scramble to collect the last of my samples. Reach out with my Qi, to feel how the ebbs and flows around me shift. I should? Be able to sense any nearby predators. As well as posdibly find a nice qi rich spot to set up camp. Maybe meditate.

Just because I'm exploring hidden realms, doesn't mean I should grow lazy, after all! Whole point of cultivation it to ascend. God hood and all that. And, yeah, I'm still sceptical as fuck. But... count me curious. Why not try?

Oooh! That's a nice ca-! Hmmm?

Something... not-brushes against my senses. As though it should be there. I should sense something. An almost taste and nearly smell of... something? Someone? Kinda like the faintest hint of someone's cologne, lingering in the air, as you move through a crowd that isn't touching you. But... warmer. Like it's still on the skin. Not a lingering remnant from someone who passed through?

It's... weird. I can't sense anybody.

Maybe if I try harder? I pump more qi into my technique. More then is technically polite, honestly. But maybe they are farther out then I think they are? I hadn't exactly expected to be sharing space. This Realm isn't exactly BIG. Just a ring of mountains and the valleys between them. One big, lush valley. Many smaller ones.

Again, it's not a popular realm. Not to mention already looted. And not even particularly Qi rich. So meditating here would be a strange choice. But... maybe they want the relative isolation?

I still can't find them. Dispite knowing they are there. (That technique does not give false positives.) So I risk rudeness. Figure I can always apologize. Maybe they are deep in meditation or something? Pumping more qi, frankly appalling amounts, into the technique, I am damn near half blind as I walk. (For all that I can see better then anyone in this valley at the moment.)

The sensory input is cacophonous. Beautiful. Terrible. Like balancing atop a single hair thin thread. Suspended carefully, above a raging sea, made of wonderous light and churning pains. I use my foot steps to anchor me. Balanced and even. Yet... find nothing. Pull back.

Are they... hiding?

Why?

Up ahead it the qi rich cave (more an over hang, cave is generous) that I sensed. A good, defensible place to set up.

It's only as I'm setting up? That I notice the little Marsh-a-chus? (Is that a good name? I really do need to start thinking of a good name for them.) Have followed along. Crowd the trees and settle thick in various bushes. And... part of me? Wants to go "away, I made friends!" But...

The rest of me? Was drilled in horror story and horror story by my Shizun. And that's so mighty fine "unusual interest" behavior going on there. Might even go so far as to classify it as hunting behavior!

Mmmmhm! Don't like THAT! No sir! Time for some nice and cozy warding talismans! Shall we? The STRONG ones.

Under far too many beady little eyes, I slap down security talismans. Full three sixty. Against the ground, the stone, the mountain behind me. I am taking no chances. Just as I was taught.

Which... as I am settling in for the night? Dinner done and dishes drying. Sleeping mat, out and reading to go. Light and warmth talismans, positioned just where I need them? Turns out to be for the best.

Because there is something in the dark. Big. Predatory. And coming towards me.

It's not so large as to show above the trees. But that is small comfort. They are fairly large trees. And honestly? I know only too well, massive size does NOT indicate lethality. Sun turtles are mountainous after all, and THEY photosynthesize! The problem is? There wasn't supposed to be a predator that big in this realm.

Did someone fucking shove a spirit beast or monster in here!?

What? Out of sight out of mind?! No longer their problem, right!? Why kill it, when you can put it in a hidden real to LET IT GROW BIGGER! Destroy an ecosystem! MOTHER FUCK-!!!

The night is silent.

It should NOT be.

Gripping a sword I am only kinda decent at wielding, I pray to the gods, I don't have to use it. I am a spiritual cultivator! Not a martial one! This is BULLSHIT. I don't have anything on me for "unknow predatory mega-fauna" because there WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ANY! Oh, this is the LAST time I-!

Foot steps. Crushing through the underbrush.

Into the circle of light my talismans cast, fades a pale young master. Graceful and pale in the moonlight. Very... very pale in the moonlight, actually. No better in the light of my talismans. Near ghostly, in his white silks. Touches of pale gold and stark black. Curls of ink wash grey. Like a painting brought to life.

Just a touch too perfect. A touch too beautiful.

With a grace to his movements that... that is too smooth.

It's not until he all but stands in the light that I am certain. His hair. Too lovely and well kept, for it to be an accident or some sort of shaming. Those are NOT bangs. That is the entirety of it. Nothing held back, in a crown or subtle styling. No... no it is SHORT.

No Human Wears Their Hair SHORT Here.

Entering the light? His eyes reflect. Grey like blades. Like storms and death. No pretty silver things. No, it is far too deep a color. Far too dangerous. Slits, that contract with the light. Half hidden by a heavy expression, that I can not begin to interpret. I desperately try to identify the creature before. Feline? No. Lacks the savage edge. Too cool... serpentine. Snake!

"Like a panicked little mouse, honored cultivator. This one might begin to suspect you weren't happy to see me~" they...? He? Says; his voice a low, honeyed rasp. "But how can that be? When this humble servant has been hunting for so long?"

"Surely, my dear little mouse, has been anticipating this day~! Dreaming of the day when her lord would catch her?"

There is something... mean, in that tone. Vicious and victorious. The silent echo of a madman laugh, as he burns the world to ruin. Seizes and achieves all that he desires. Strangles all that he can not possess. Covetous and ugly. Dancing, dancing, dancing around the edges. Demonic, indeed.

Yet... I do not recognize this creature. This demon. He certainly recognizes me, as horrifying as that is. What past does he speak of? Hunting? What HUNTING?! I try to find something familiar, in this strange form. Unless, of course, he is simple insane? Not impossible... but...

"Ah~ my poor little mouse." The demon coos, mocking in his indulgence. His eyes still dance with laughter. Mad and unable to feast. "You don't recognize this poor servant, do you? How cruel! To be forgotten. A passing fancy, barely held, in my mouse's fickle heart."

He's laughing me. Knows I could not possibly recognize him, yet plans to punish me anyway. Somehow. Fuck! This seems genuine. But how? Why!? When would I have-!?

Then, he shifts.

Gone is the beautiful young man. In his place? Rising, rising, RISING? A behemoth of a bandy-wolf king snake. Black, white, with occasional bare traces of that pale gold on the under belly. Hundreds of thousands the times it ever should have been. But... but? There. A scar. Oh gods.

I recognize him now.

A snake got into the village I was born. Absurdly poisonous, unthinkably venomous, it should have been left alone. Gathered very, VERY carefully and taken far away from people. But... people panic. Get stupid. The adults didn't fucking listen. And over sixteen people died that didn't have too. I was sick at the sight of it. They captured the poor creature and were going to burn it alive.

For the crime of being afraid. Hungry. Getting attacked and then protecting itself.

I couldn't bear it. So... I stole it. Hid it in a cave, half way across the valley. Didn't my best to nurse the poor, injured, creature back to health. At least... I tried. The injuries were too severe. I was able to close the wounds. But sickness, blood loss...

Shit. That cave was incredibly qi rich. It's why I chose it! To make up for what I couldn't do! If he had already started cultivation and then... or just resented enough...

It was entirely possible to become a snake demon. Easily, even.

"Sss Sss Sss, ah, recognition~" the massive creature laughed "Why so fearful? Little mouse~ It's not you I want dead. Kindness for kindness, a debt for a debt. And aren't we be grown? Look how strong we've become!"

The booming, breathy cackle did not fit snake lungs. Silibant and painful. Hissing and near silent. It was more pressure in the air then anything. A madness long coming. As demons born of resentment energy tended to be. All burned villages and the screams of those who wronged them. Hatreds and obsessions made manifest.

I... I could barely breathe. Oh gods. Oh gods! What do I do? I.. I can't-!! Tears threatened to choke me. Fear, shaking my limbs and fogging my mind. W-what do I DO?! I'm scared. No. No, no, NO! Please! I'm SCARED!

"Ah~ so cute, so cute! My little mouse grew so lovely~"

Like the world sighing, as fluid and graceful as his steps, the snake became a man again. His grey tinted lips curled in a fang bearing smile. Hands up and braced against the barrier, his full weight leaning forward as he leered. He loomed. My talismans casting odd shadows across his face, giving the madness in his eyes a terrible glow.

"This husband truely did pick his trap well, didn't he? My sweet little mouse~" he purred, eyes unblinking, above a terrible smile. "My little wife has no where to run~! No where to hide! Her husband has trapped her quite cleverly, hasn't he~? Poor, poor, little mouse. Your husband is so mean!"

My heart felt like it was going to burst. Cold. T-trapped. Can't breathe! Oh gods. Is this a panic attack? I.. I think this is a panic attack! Can't think! Static. Legs, refusing to hold me. Sink. Crawling backwards. Away. G-got to get away! Trapped! TRAPPED!

I horror, I watch as he sinks his nails in to the barrier. Hands no longer resting, but digging into it. He-! He shouldn't be able to DO that! Oh gods! PLEASE gods! Tell me he's not strong enough to BREAK barrier talismans of this level! Please! PLEASE!!

"Ah~ acting this way, you make this husband want to bully you, little wife~♡ And ah, such big, fearful eyes~ Am I being mean? Is husband being cruel? Poor thing~"

CRACK.

In horror, I watch as his nail push through the barrier. Like driving stakes through stone. Cracks shooting from the holes, as he digs and digs. Hands closing around the shards he has created, ignoring the blood that spills from where it cuts into him. As the barrier itself whines and crackles in protect. Tryinging desperately to maintain its integrity. Slowly... cracking... failing...

"Let me kiss it better, hmm? No use in trying to run~"

"So be a good girl~♡ my little Mouse. Come to husband~♡"

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witchofhimring · 8 hours ago

Text

Disloyalty (Chapter 3)

Book One Masterlist

Synopsis: Your plan to entice Jaecerion in put into action. (Jaecerion x reader officially happening this chapter!)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, mentions of rape (not to the reader), morally grey reader

'Did you hear about Talia?' They were whispering over needle work. While present, you said absolutely nothing. Suppressing the urge to laugh was a considerable effort. Apparently Talia lost many valuable things in there at was forced to live in a lesser room for the time being. 'Serves her right.' You though.

Your fingers stroked the books worn covers. One would think that the royal library would be better looked after. Like all the other books this one provided little information you desired. Under different circumstances you might have enjoyed its contents. But time was of the essence. Soon you would be packed off to Casterly Rock. Determined not to have a repeat of your past, you had to find a way to stop it. There were few who could gainsay Jason Lannister, but you had just the person in mind. Jaecerion loved you. The only problem lay in whether he would say yes. Last time he asked proposed you were a widow and unattached. These circumstances were different. Well, if he knew. It occurred to you that Jaecerion might not have known ahead of time. Last lifetime Aemond had been unaware, so why should Jaecerion who was his younger?

That problem would need to wait. With more immediate concerns' you needed to focus o those, for now. Ever since the bathing fiasco Ellyn had made herself scarce. In any other situation she would have held her head up high. But to do so in this case may very well be deadly. Some did send their condolences, and in those conversations you mentioned how some of her friends might have known her intentions. Naturally this was all a lie, however it suited you well. No jabs were being made in your direction these days. No one wanted to get entangled in this mess.

Just as you were getting dressed that morning a knock sounded at the door. Answering is, Elinor was handed an letter. Your stomach went cold as you recognized the wax seal. The Tyrell rose, Jenna's symbol. 'Please leave.' Trying to suppress the shake in your voice you dismissed Elinor. 'Is everything well?' She asked. 'Yes. Now go.' You said it more forcefully than necessary. Alone now, you opened the seal.

Lady Y/n,

I heard about the events that took place recently, and can only say I am very shocked. Let us pray that this fiasco settles down. You must lay low for a while, for your future depends on it. Stay out of trouble and listen to the Dowager Queen.

Lady Jenna Tyrell

"Stay out of trouble." You snorted. The letter was burned. Staying out of trouble was hardly an option. Either way was an uphill battle. But this time you intended to will.

The current dilemma you faced was to rid yourself of that guard. Burning Talia's room was only possible because he had been paid of by Cerilla. If another was to take his place it must be your man. Despite being a Tarley you had little money to your name. Whatever was allocated to you for service was not enough to bribe someone. And even if this knight was rid of who was to say that the next was not also in Cerilla's pocket. The only solution was to find out how to prove it. Easier said than done. Cerilla might be in a similar position to yourself, but she had allies you did not and Jenna's wealth.

Wait. Was Jenna even aware of this? It would cost money Cerilla did not have, unless one was passing it to her. Someone who had the backing of House Tyrell. Jenna might be a vile hag but you suspected that spying on you at night was not her way. Given her wealth Jenna would have hired more able hands. No the fumbling efforts of Talia. Yet you could not be entirely sure. But there might be a way to find out.

Cerilla had her plots, you had yours.

Dear Lady Jenna,

I pray this letter finds you in good health. You are very right to say I should be careful, and resolve to do so. But there is something of great importance I must tell you. It concerns Lady Cerilla, the sister of your good-daughter. I fear she may be finding other ways to make money, or is in dept. She wears very fine clothing that would cost a greater sum than that allocated to her by The Crown. Several times I have found her out late at night and am very concerned for her safety. If this is mere fantasy I humbly beg your pardon.

Lady Y/n

Even if Jenna did see through the letter and knew you wanted to get Cerilla in trouble she would still investigate. And if evidence turned up which proved Cerilla was acting without her consent then your animosity to her would pale in comparison. The letter was sealed and sent. You watched as the pageboy carried it away. Hopefully soon the fruits of your results would be clear.

Meanwhile you busied yourself with getting the books out. Soon you would hopefully be moving rooms and you did not want to cause speculation. Now that the letter was sent you needed to focus of Jaecerion, and it had to happen before word got out of your betrothal. If you pressed your suit after the proposal House Lannister may consider than an insult. It must be done before. Now you were at the issue you had to think of when to ask. How should you approach it? Jaecerion had been in and out of The Red Keep.

There was still a life outside of your plots, insignificant as it was. Flora and Lady Lenita came and asked if you would accompany them to visit the Queen. You knew there was no point in visiting her. Helaena was utterly mad and nothing would heal her from losing a child. You still dreamed of Owen. His beautiful little face going off colour and ragged breaths. On those nights you woke up in a cold sweat and could not sleep. In those cases sleep was not an option. Instead you simply stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

You ended up not having to wait very long for Jenna's reaction, and it was everything you hoped for. No longer was anyone at your door. And word got around. 'Did you hear what happened to Cerilla?' Flora leaned over whispering in your ear. All the ladies were sewing in Alicent's tea room. People kept chatter to a quiet lull. Hiding you excitement, you simply said; 'What?' Flora leaned in closer. 'Apparently she ran afoul of her patron Lady Jenna.' 'Why? What did she do?' Flora looked around. 'We do not truly know. Money matters I think.' You tried to hide a smile.

A crumpled up butterfly lay at your feet. Its purple wings fluttered piteously in a vain attempt to rise. Stooping down you gathered it up. With its final dying struggles it desperately tried to escape death. Then it lay still, its feeble finds lightly fluttering in the wind. Looking closer you realized a red liquid oozing from its body. Staining your hands red, blood flooded in rivers down the palms of your hands, far to much for so small a creature. And it poured and poured until all the ground was red and you were drowning in the blood.

The quill scratched over parchment as you wrote everything down. Morning had only just begun, the first rays shooting across the lightening sky. Afterwards the book was hidden and you got dressed for the day. Today you went for something simple. That did not mean you were dressing without thought. The deep green dress presented your shoulders for a man's gaze, a sweeping train behind you. Only a golden necklace adorned you. Looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling satisfied you set out. Jaecerion was back after a short excursion. You wanted to greet him before anyone else did. Remembering the past did you good in cases like these. It also meant you knew that in a few days Jason Lannister would press his suit.

Jaecerion entered kings Landing on a horse, his dragon was too large to be kept within. His silver hair caught in the light and you felt something overcome you. He was beautiful. Muscles moved with each movement, honed by years of military exercise. Not many were in the courtyard this early morning. Due to the war the usual pomp and ceremony performed for the arrival of a prince was forgotten. This suited you well. Ones schemes were best left hidden until they took form. 'Jaecerion.' He saw you and smiled. 'Y/n, it is early.' He took you into his arms. And although the hug was friendly a secret kiss lingered on your cheek. Slightly longer than that between friends. 'Jaecerion, there is something I wish to speak to you about.' Curious, Jaecerion consented. A powerful force seized your belly. It was a combination of excitement and anxiety. Never before had you felt so in control. He looked at you as one looked upon a most precious object. Any which way you could pull him.

'Jaecerion!' Alicent was walking towards the pair of you, flanked by Criston Cole. She looked anxious, a normal condition for Alicent. 'Your Grace.' Sinking into a curtsey you inwardly cursed her. Now you would have to wait, and who knew what would happen between now and later. Who was to say Jason's suit would not be pressed on you sooner. Quickly you were dismissed, Jaecerion being whisked away to a council meeting.

A morning mist had settled over King's Landing. As you could no longer be in Ellyn's services you sat with Alicent's ladies. Today they were all crowded in the queen's rooms. No laughter or music brought harmony to these sorry women. Alicent had never been a merry queen, but grief had settled over all like a blanket. Stepping in you felt their emotions like a physical presence. Men might wage war, but women too felt the pains of battle. For a woman's battle always had to be on the inside. It was a silent war that tore at ones very soul. Sitting beside Flora you felt like you were falling. Suddenly all plots were swept aside. Jaehaerys and Owen's pale little faces peaked out at you from the darkness within your mind. The torches flickering above might as well have not existed. Shadow seemed to close in on every side, threatening to swallow every living person in that room. Not truly there, you absentmindedly stitched the tapestry. Who cared about it anyway.

Food felt stale and fire provided no warmth. Your entire being was absorbed with images of the past dead and vengeance. More nourishing than any early substance the feverish desire that consumed you was like the strongest elixir. Emotions swung between elation and grief. All you could do was wait for night to fall. Keeping your ears open you listened for any mention of a meeting. Hopefully this would not happen, for your plans could be impeded. Already you had a plan in place. You would hide behind the statue of King Jaehaerys near Jaecerion's room. Covered in a black cloak you would hide until Jaecerion arrived. At least that was the plan if Jaecerion was up late. You just had to get through today.

When night descended you did not go to bed. You suspected another guard (or spy) would be there. Just because Cerilla was out of action did not mean Jenna's guard was down. In fact she might have become suspicious of you. If everything worked out it would not matter how Jenna felt. As princess you would be more powerful then all of them. So, hoping that this gamble would pay off, you slipped off as the sun set. A strong wind bartered the keeps stone in a torrent of power. You listened its powerful howls outside. It brought you an element of peace as you waited. Through the window you could see the sun set, casting its orange ray across the darkening sky. Every footstep made you jump slightly and look in anticipation.

How long would he be? Your knees were starting to burn. 'Where are you.' You hissed under your breath. Feeling clammy and cold you dreamed of going to bed. With warm sheets and a nice hot fire in the fire place. Only your conviction was stronger than temporary discomfort. Exhaustion was starting to seep in but you held firm. Shaking hands threatened to loosen on the statue. Strong will was the only thing keeping you from tumbling down.

Then you heard footsteps coming down the hall. Looking over you finally saw him. Jaecerion was alone, thank goodness. Body shaking, you stumbled down from your perch and out into the light. 'Y/n' Jaecerion looked alarmed and you were quickly in his arms. 'Jaecerion.' You murmured. Feeling warm you snuggled up against him. 'I'll take you to my room.' You allowed Jaecerion to take the lead. A guard by his door gave you a look. 'You won't be giving me that look soon enough.' You thought. Jaecerion's room was mercifully warm. You took off the heavy black cloak and allowed the warmth that enveloped you. The dress you wore underneath was a rather plain green one. Yet it had an alluring effect, showing off your back and shoulders. You could feel Jaecerio's eyes on you. Good. 'Why are you out so late?' Jaecerion was only a few feet behind you.

'Its......' Your inability to properly covary the words were a combination of exhaustion and anxiety. You had planned this moment and yet when it came you were here there was nothing to show for it. Jaecerion, sensing your anxiety, took a cold hand in his. 'Y/n, are you alright?' Taking a small step towards him you looked into his eyes. They were beautiful. Your own were starting to burn. 'I'm afraid.' Your voice was small and so, so pathetic. Feeling small you wanted the ground to swallow you up into the darkness. This was not acting. Built up fear you had suppressed for weeks was becoming overwhelming. Physically you could not take it anymore. It was like being severely sick with a cold. You wanted to wail and be sick. There was a strong desire to tear your hair out and howl. Everything had happened so quickly that you wanted nothing more than to lay down and just sob. And it was not even like you could tell Jaecerion the whole tale. No one could now how you had been locked up, lost your son and been killed. Perhaps death was a sweeter end after all.

Suddenly you swayed on the stop. The fires light seemed nearly blinding as Jaecerion caught you in his arms. He was warm and safe. All that time locked up by Jenna had deprived you of human companionship. So absorbed with vengeance, you had not realized just how much you missed the company of others. Tears fell past your eyelids and down trembling cheeks. Jaecerion's strong arms wrapped themselves around you as he knelt on the ground. Fingers carded through your messy hair and Jaecerion soothed you between your shaking gasps. 'Y/n.' He sounded disbelieving and worried. His tone, however worrying it sounded, made a flood of security and tenderness run through you. In those long lonely months there had been no one to hold you like this. Ever since the war had started back in another life you had not known a moments security. All you could remember was death, of slit throats and hanging bodies. But for just a moment your thoughts were only of this warmth.

'Jaecerion.' Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Looking up you got lost in his eyes. It had been so long since you had felt so close to someone, and never so intimate. 'I'm afraid.' gently Jaecerion hushed you. 'I swear Ellyn will not harm you.' You looked away.' It is not just her. Everyone seems against me and I do not know what to do.' Leaning into his chest you closed your eyes. 'I do not see how you will be able to protect me, Jaecerion. 'His grip tightened. He took a weak hand in his and pressed it to his lips. You felt the warmth of his youthful lips on you. How good would they feel against yours. 'I swear to you that there is nothing I will not do for your safety.' He took you but the shoulders and you were kneeling in front of him. Face to face with the fire behind him Jaecerion's eyes were wild. His silver hair had the reflecting light behind it with a mesmerizing effect. 'Jaecerion....can you truly promise that?' He nodded, the reaction of a young man who thought strength alone could protect the woman he loved. But you knew better. Taking his pale face in your hands, you said; 'You are a prince and a good man. But I am a mere lady. Ellyn is a princess.' You tried not to spit out the title in a fit of anger and jealousy. Then you were thinking what else to say. He needed to see your way of thinking.

'What would you have me do?' If your were honest, you would have told him to marry you. But that may not work. He had to come to that conclusion on his own. 'I can do away with Ellyn.' Purple eyes went very dark, almost black in this light. A menacing presence issued from him and you marveled that he might be a very dangerous enemy. You had already accepted that Jaecerion killed Ellyn. Her death would serve no purpose to your cause. After your last life you had no wish to be accused of her murder again. 'No, that will be me little good. If anything happens to Ellyn then I will be blamed. I need to find a way to keep me safe, a solution that will keep me out of her clutches. Perhaps I can go to Highgarden. Maybe being out of her way she will forget about me.' 'No!' You barely finished the sentence before Jaecerion protested. He looked desperate and a pang of guilt hit you. But you were close now. You could smell it. Jaecerion stood, pulling you up. Taking you in his arms Jaecerion held you to him. 'Stay with me Y/n.' His voice uncharacteristically shook. Had anyone loved you like this? 'Then what will we do? You are a prince, but I a mere lady.' You did not hide the desperation in your voice.

'May me.' You could hardly believe it. Despite your hopes and planning his words still stunned you. It had actually worked, your plan worked. Swaying on the stop you gripped him tightly. Jaecerion, taking your state deriving from an unplanned outcome. Brushed your hair out of the way. 'If I marry you, I could keep you safe. As my wife you would carry the title of princess and under the crowns direct protection. Ellyn would not be able to harm you, ever.' Jaecerion then got down on one knee. Taking he hand he kissed it reverently, thumb caressing your ring finger. His lips, even after parting, were only a mere inches from your skin. 'If you were to marry me my life would be completely in your keeping. And I would do all to protect you....both of us. And I would love you. Cherish you more than any other.' Even if you had not planned this you would have been won over in a heartbeat. here was this beautiful young man pledging himself to you with a fervor none had shown you before. This plan was one truly mad. For a prince to marry without allowance by his king was dangerous. The woman married to him could face grave consequences. Neither of you cared, you in vengeance and lust, Jaecerion for passion. Now it was your turn to pull him up. And without thinking you kissed him hard. And before the fireplace he made his mark. Afterwards, as Jaecerion lay sleeping, you beside him, the ruby glittered in the firelight.

Notes: This chapter is quite a bit shorter than the rest because I could not find anything else to add. Next chapter will be longer and very interesting👀.

Taglist:

@daenerysqueenofhearts

@le-petit-lulu

@aemondswifeisme

@mandiiblanche

@gknj9495

@minakay

@strangersunghoon

@iilsenewman

@moonlightfoxx

@gknj9495

@heartb8k2

@dahlias-and-marigolds

@dumbhxeredrose

@m-riaa

@sweetsnow88

@blxkstar

@seomta

@sxlsvv

@ninihrtss

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carpenoctxrn · 3 days ago

Text

a hoax, a bait, a challenge (Ominis Gaunt x fem!reader) Part 2

Disclaimer: mentions of face-sitting, boob-job, horny Ominis, horny reader.

AN: Okay I think I will do one more part. And yes I like making Ominis obsessed with the reader because I like them possessive...

Word Count: 8426

Masterlist

Ominis Gaunt strode through the library, his wand tapping lightly against the floor with the faint click-click-click that echoed in the quiet room. The sun bathed the far corner in golden light, his preferred spot, where the rays would warm his back as he worked through the labyrinth of notes and textbooks. But as he approached, something felt… off.

Someone was sitting in his seat.

He sighed. “Sebastian? Why aren’t you in class?” he called out, setting his stack of books down with a deliberate thud.

“Didn’t feel like it,” Sebastian replied lazily, his mouth half-full of an apple as he flipped through a worn tome.

Ominis ran his fingers over the chair next to him before sitting, exhaling sharply. “Why am I not surprised?” he muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. “Please, keep yourself entertained. I have actual work to do, and I’d rather not get swept into one of your scandals today.”

“Scandal?” Sebastian asked with mock offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ominis retorted, already busying himself with his textbook. His wand traced the Braille like enchantments on the page, one hand gliding across the text while the other jotted notes in impeccable handwriting.

For a while, the only sounds were the scratching of quill on parchment and the occasional crunch of Sebastian’s apple. But then, from somewhere behind them came the unmistakable sound of giggling.

Ominis stiffened. “Merlin’s beard, that’s distracting,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as the laughter grew louder.

Sebastian smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like someone found this month’s issue of Haughty Witches and Naughty Snitches,” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Ominis paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. “The what now?”

“Oh, come on,” Sebastian said, sitting upright with sudden enthusiasm. “You remember the first time we found a copy? Fourth year, I think it was. Or was it third?”

“I’m choosing not to dignify this conversation with a response,” Ominis deadpanned, his focus snapping back to his notes.

“Don’t give me that look, Ominis. It’s a natural part of life,” Sebastian said smugly.

“Yes, Sebastian, I agree that sex is a natural part of life,” Ominis replied coolly, “but a woman performing pull-ups with her-” he hesitated, his face turning pink, “...her assets out is not.”

“She was doing a challenge! That takes skill, Ominis. Skill and dedication,” Sebastian said, shaking his head at his friend, making his blind friend feel as if he doesn’t recognize talent or dedication.

“Speaking of challenges,” Ominis said, his tone suddenly lighter, “did you know I’m currently participating in one myself?”

Sebastian straightened, intrigued. “Oh? You? Participating in a challenge?”

“Yes. My dear girlfriend bet me that I couldn’t keep my hands off her for a week. Naturally, I countered with the same bet. She’s convinced I’ll cave first,” Ominis said, the corners of his mouth curling into an amused smile.

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment before placing a solemn hand on his shoulder. “Ominis, you’re going to lose.”

Ominis blinked in surprise. “What? That’s absurd. If anyone has self-control, it’s me. Between the two of us— ”

“Stop right there,” Sebastian interrupted, leaning closer with an almost pitying expression. “Ominis, do you remember two months ago when she left for three days?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ominis asked, already growing defensive.

Sebastian’s smirk widened. “You turned into a bloody menace. You walked straight into a Quidditch match, while it was in progress, just to Accio the Snitch and blow it to bits. Your excuse? ‘The first years were making too much noise.’”

“Well, they were— ”

“It was their first win of the season! They had every right to cheer!”

Ominis opened his mouth to retort, but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“And let’s not forget the second game of the season. You were all smiles, eating stale popcorn with a pleasant expression because she was sitting right there next to you. Coincidence? I think not.”

“That’s just basic decency, Sebastian. Good company should always be appreciated,” Ominis said, lifting his chin in defiance.

“Sure, sure,” Sebastian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Except Imelda swears she saw her limping that day, and according to her, you’re quite the—how did she put it—‘big guy.’”

Ominis froze. His quill stopped mid-dip into the ink, and a scarlet blush crept across his face.

Sebastian grinned wickedly. “Face it, Ominis. You’re doomed.”

“And why is my handsome boyfriend doomed?” Her voice chimed from behind, soft and lilting, but carrying just enough edge to tease. The sound made both boys pause, but it was the warmth of her touch that pulled Ominis’ attention completely. She slipped up beside him, her presence as familiar and comforting as the sunlight streaming through the library windows.

Ominis felt the heat creep up his neck as he turned toward her, his cheeks tinged pink, a rare sight on his typically pale, freckled complexion. Unless of course when they otherwise occupied in their relationship, Ominis never blushed. “My love, you’re out early,” he said, his voice softer now as he stood and reached for her.

She came to him effortlessly, as if drawn by some magnetic pull. He placed his hands lightly on her waist, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The kiss she gave him was quick and light, yet it lingered in his mind like the taste of something sweet.

“You can thank Garreth for that,” she replied with a small laugh as she slipped into the chair Ominis had already pulled out for her, ever the gentleman.

Sebastian raised a skeptical brow. “But you weren’t even in Potions,” he pointed out, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

“True,” she admitted, smoothing her robes as she sat. “But unfortunately for everyone in Divination, there’s tea, and Garreth Weasley has an endless supply of recipes in that head of his.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course he does. That boy would turn a funeral into a brewing experiment.”

As the two chatted, her fingers drifted toward Ominis’ hand resting on the table. It was a habit of hers, one Ominis adored. She would absentmindedly trace the lines of his palm or run her fingertips along his knuckles. Only this time, it was different.

Her fingers found his fingers—the same two that had been intimately acquainted with her last night. She trailed them with deliberate strokes, her touch feather-light but undeniably intentional.

Ominis froze. His mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid images: her flushed face, her breathless gasps, the way her doe eyes locked with his as she-

“Are you alright, Omi?” she asked sweetly, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The coolness of her touch made him jump ever so slightly, jolting him from his thoughts.

Her tone was syrupy, laced with mischief, and he knew- oh, he knew - she was doing this on purpose.

Sebastian, sharp as ever, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Yeah, you’re looking a little… flushed, Ominis,” he teased, drawing out the last word.

Ominis’ jaw tightened. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Sebastian?” he bit out, his dead eyes boring into his friend with a sharpness that could cut glass. Even without sight, Ominis’ piercing gaze was enough to make Sebastian straighten, a shiver running down his spine.

“All right, all right. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,I’m leaving.” Sebastian stood, still chuckling as he grabbed his half-eaten apple and the tome he’d been leafing through. “Though I do need to find Weasley and ask how he pulled that off.”

“Check the Divination classroom,” she called after him, her tone perfectly pleasant. “He’s probably still cleaning up the mess.”

“Noted,” Sebastian said with a wink before sauntering off, his laughter echoing faintly as he disappeared among the shelves.

The moment he was out of earshot, she turned back to Ominis, her movements quick and deliberate. The soft strands of her hair brushed against his cheek as she did, sending a shiver down his spine.

“So,” she said, her voice low and teasing as her smirk spread wide. “Why are you doomed, Ominis?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. “I was hoping you hadn’t heard that part.”

“Oh, but I did,” she purred, leaning closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I want to know everything.”

“Sebastian thought the challenge assuming,” Ominis spoke truthfully as he began gathering his books and quills.

“He thinks that I don’t have the capacity to regulate my emotions without…” his word halted as his actions did so “release.”

Ominis’ voice was smooth, steady, and entirely too composed. It caught his girlfriend off guard, especially since she was expecting the usual hint of rosy embarrassment to bloom on his pale, freckled cheeks. Normally, the mere whisper of anything remotely intimate, specifically involving him, was enough to send his carefully curated poise toppling faster than a tipsy Prewett on a broomstick.

This time, however, there was no such reaction. Instead, Ominis spoke with a calmness that unsettled her, as if he had mastered some secret she wasn’t privy to.

Her eyes flicked up to his face, searching for any trace of the usual pink hue or flustered demeanor, but all she found was his characteristic serene expression. She hesitated, suddenly unsure how to respond. “Oh,” she mumbled, her voice quieter than she intended, as she clutched his notes close to her chest. Basically embracing it to herself.

Ominis suppressed the smirk threatening to creep onto his face, savoring her rare moment of uncertainty. He didn’t press, letting the silence stretch just long enough to leave her wondering before he reached for his heavier books.

As they rounded a corner, their sides brushed together in that effortless way they always did when walking side by side. Ominis leaned just slightly closer, his movements subtle, as though the proximity were accidental. But it wasn’t.

His nose caught a whiff of her familiar scent; something soft and warm, with a hint of lavender. He breathed in a little deeper, savoring the way it wrapped around him, filling his lungs like a comforting charm. The corners of his lips twitched upward.

He loved her. Every little thing about her, from her laugh to the way she fit so perfectly beside him. And while he didn’t mind losing their playful wager it didn’t stop him from relishing moments like this. Moments where he could get the upper hand, even if only for a second.

“Sebastian,” he began, his tone light and conversational, “is wrong about most things. This time is no different.”

The casual dismissal caught her attention, and she glanced up at him with a raised brow, only to find his expression completely neutral. His delivery was so nonchalant it was impossible to tell if he meant the words or if he was simply trying to get under her skin.

Before she could form a response, Ominis tapped his wand, sending the library door swinging open with a practiced ease. He stepped aside, gesturing subtly for her to go first.

“After you, my love,” he said, his voice dipping just slightly into a warmer tone that sent a shiver down her spine. It was her who was now basically turning red.

Her steps faltered briefly as she passed through the doorway, her mind racing to decipher whether he was teasing her, challenging her, or simply enjoying her confusion. She turned her head to glance back at him, and though his unseeing eyes remained forward, the faintest smirk played at his lips.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ominis was toying with her. It was subtle, in the way he spoke and carried himself, but she knew him well enough to notice. Her thoughts drifted briefly to the time she had confessed something… unexpected.

She had told him outright that his gentlemanly nature turned her on more effectively than a Lumos charm lit up a pitch-black corridor. The shock on his face had been priceless. “These are the bare minimum,” he had said, looking genuinely baffled by her declaration. She’d replied in her own way—by dropping to her knees and showing him just how much she appreciated his “bare minimum.” That memory still lingered, vivid and unshakable.

Before she could get lost in those thoughts, she cleared her throat, the flush rising in her cheeks betraying her composure.

“Are you all right?” Ominis asked, his voice warm and amused. He didn’t need to see her to know exactly why she sounded so flustered.

“Something in my throat,” she muttered, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Ominis chuckled softly but didn’t comment, choosing instead to savor her bashful tone. He loved these moments, where her sharp wit gave way to sweet timidity.

As they reached the doors leading outside, Ominis suddenly turned the other way, heading toward the familiar path leading to the Slytherin dorms.

“Omi,” she called after him, quickening her pace to catch up. “Lunch is this way.”

“Yes, love, I know,” he replied calmly, his wand tapping lightly against the stone floor. “But I thought it’d be wise to drop off my supplies before dinner.”

She caught up, falling into step beside him. “And?” she pressed, sensing there was more to his diversion.

“And,” he added, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks, “I have a gift for you.” His tone softened, and his unseeing eyes seemed to gleam with something that made her heart flutter.

Her curiosity ignited instantly. “What is it?” she asked without hesitation.

Ominis laughed at her eagerness, the sound light and genuine. “You’re impatient as ever.”

“I’m just a curious girl,” she mumbled, a slight pout forming on her lips as they continued toward the dorms.

And then the questions began. “Is it white?” she asked, tilting her head in thought.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ominis replied smoothly, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Oh, right,” she muttered with a grin. “You’re more blind than first years helping Garreth brew potions in exchange for those god-awful crude magazines.”

Ominis chuckled, shaking his head. “A generous comparison, but I like to think I’m slightly more competent than they are.”

She giggled, but her curiosity wouldn’t let up. “Can you touch it?”

Ominis gave her a look before he raised an eyebrow “Like most gifts i give, yes you can.” he spoke softly trying not to showcase his notorious Gaunt annoyance at stupidity.

If Sebastian had been the one to ask such an absurd question, Ominis knew exactly how he’d respond.

“Sebastian,” he’d say in his most exasperated tone, “sometimes when you speak, you force me to believe that you fell off your broomstick and hit your head on every branch of the Whomping Willow.”

His girlfriend couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “I guess that was quite the ‘Sebastian question,’” she quipped, clearly amused by her own joke.

“You guessed correctly,” Ominis replied with a chuckle, shaking his head as he imagined Sebastian’s affronted face. The conversation dissolved into soft laughter, and for a time, their walk fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the quiet hum of her voice.

It was a tune Ominis recognized—a jaunty melody she must have picked up from one of the castle’s many eccentric portraits. Specifically, a portrait named Salamander.

Salamander was a younger-looking wizard, forever captured in the prime of his life, whose painting hung in a hallway near the Astronomy Tower. Despite his best efforts to rise above petty feelings like jealousy, Ominis couldn’t stop the irritation bubbling up at the sound of that blasted tune.

“Mind changing the tune, love?” he asked as they rounded another corner, keeping his voice calm and even.

“Sorry, Omi,” she said, her tone light and unbothered. “I was just talking to Mander about constellations and how stars change over the centuries. We had quite the conversation. At first, he thought it was because the Earth is flat, but I explained why that’s not true.”

Her voice carried on, animated and carefree, as if she didn’t notice Ominis stiffening slightly beside her.

He wasn’t hearing anything after the word Mander. Mander. She’d given him a nickname.

His jaw tightened. Nicknames were a rare and precious thing, and the only two men privileged enough to have them were Ominis Gaunt himself and Sebastian Sallow. And now now this Salamander had joined their exclusive club? His thick brows twitched as her cheerful recounting of her conversation went on and on and on about that irritating portrait.

“He sounds absolutely delightful,” Ominis said finally, his tone tight as he worked to keep his jealousy at bay. “Though I suspect he must’ve been dropped as an infant—several times, at least.”

She didn’t catch the bite in his words. Instead, she smiled, trotting a little faster to keep up with his suddenly longer strides. “Oh, he’s wonderful, Omi. And he’s a poet!” she added with a bright enthusiasm that only made the knot in his chest tighten.

“He wrote me a poem about how my eyes remind him of the stars,” she said, her voice dreamy. “It was soooo beautiful. I wish I could remember it word for word.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened imperceptibly, and his jaw clenched so hard he thought it might crack. Of course this Mander had written her a poem. Of course, it had been about her eyes. He was a painting, for Merlin’s sake, an inanimate object! Yet here he was, swooping in with flowery words and lofty metaphors.

“How… poetic of him,” Ominis managed to say, his voice strained as his long strides carried them faster toward the dorms.

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re walking so fast, are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” he replied curtly. “Just eager to get back.”

Her confusion melted into a soft smile as she caught up to him, slipping her arms into the crevice of his elbow. “You’re adorable when you’re in a hurry, you know that?”

Ominis faltered slightly at her words, his tense expression softening. He exhaled, his lips twitching upward into a small, reluctant smile. His strides now matching her pace.

“Adorable, am I?” he asked, his tone lighter now.

“Absolutely,” she teased, squeezing his hand. “Though I still think Mander would have something to say about it.”

His smile froze. Mander again.

Ominis swore that painting would be moved to the darkest, most forgotten hallway in Hogwarts before the week was out.

Before Ominis could fully plot where Salamander’s portrait would meet its unfortunate relocation, Leander Prewett’s voice rang out, startling both of them.

“Oi! What are the lovebirds up to?” Leander called, swaggering over with a smirk as he glanced between them.

She turned toward him, blinking in surprise. “Leander,” she greeted, her tone curious. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” he said, eyeing them with a grin. “Just wondering if you two are up to anything interesting.”

“Oh, you know,” she said breezily, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. “Just making Ominis jealous of Salamander.”

Ominis stopped dead in his tracks, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to full-blown betrayal. His pale freckled face twisted into a scowl that screamed, How dare you.

Leander frowned, clearly baffled. “The painting?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to connect the dots.

“Exactly,” she replied, giving a small, conspiratorial nod.

Meanwhile, Ominis’ frustration simmered just below the surface. “Can we help you, Prewett?” he snapped, his tone sharp and utterly devoid of patience.

“Oh, not you, Gaunt,” Leander said dismissively, waving a hand as though Ominis wasn’t even there. “I need your girlfriend.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened, but before he could respond, Leander reached into his robe and produced a neatly wrapped package. It was wrapped in black, silk-like paper and topped with a bright yellow bow.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and took the package from him. “Who’s this for?” she asked, turning it over in her hands before noticing the name written in tidy handwriting. “Imelda?”

“Of course,” Leander said, puffing his chest out slightly as if proud of himself.

Her lips twitched, and she leaned in closer to inspect the gift. “Oh, Poppy’s going to have a field day with this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

“What was that?” Leander asked, leaning forward, his confusion deepening.

“Nothing,” she said smoothly, slipping the package into the deep, enchanted pocket of her robe with a quick flick of her wand. “I’ll give it to her when I see her.”

“Thanks,” Leander said with a satisfied nod. “And make sure to tell her it’s from her secret admirer, yeah?” With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, clearly proud of his efforts.

As soon as he was out of earshot, her face split into a wide grin, her mind already racing with the chaos this would undoubtedly cause.

Ominis, still by her side, tilted his head toward her. “What’s the smirk for, love?” he asked, his tone curious as he guided them back toward the path leading to the dungeons.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, though her voice was laced with amusement. “Just thinking about how karma works.”

Ominis arched a brow but didn’t press further. They walked in companionable silence, their steps muffled as they moved through the shadowy halls. The air grew cooler as they descended, and the torchlight flickered faintly against the stone walls.

She glanced around, noticing the path they were taking. Her grin widened when she realized he was sneaking her into his room. Ominis was weaving through the less-traveled corridors to avoid detection, leading her deeper into Slytherin territory.

“Ominis,” she whispered, her tone playful, “are you sneaking me into the boys-only dormitory?”

Ominis smirked, a rare, devilish gleam lighting up his pale features. “Perhaps,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “We could not go, if you wish to not receive your present?”

She laughed, her voice soft and melodic, and slipped her hand into his. “Okay, okay I’ll bite,” she said, squeezing his hand gently as they disappeared into the shadows.

The light echoes of their footsteps became a comforting sound in the abandoned hallway, the tune she hummed now was one from a candy from honey dukes. Ominis forgot the name of the candy but he knew exactly how it tasted in her mouth.

As they ascended up towards the dorm and made some quick and swift turns at the corner. The pair finally at ease as they entered Ominis and Sebastians shared dormitories.

“Go sit on my bed love, I will come back with the gift.” Ominis said as he set his study books on his study table before heading towards his closet. Opening it his suits and robes are all hanging. All looked pristine.

HIs girlfriend was seated on his bed as she observed his figure. The light from the lantern nearby illuminates his feature in a glow that mimicked the setting rays of sunshine. His pale skin and platinum hair looked ethereal. His features are so soft and delicate.

“Here it is,” he said as he picked up a neatly folded stack of clothes.

“What is Omi? What did you get me?” His girlfriend asked, now more excited than ever.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, knowing very well that he really should just give him the gift than making her wait.

As her hands held on to the delicate and soft fabric of silk her eyes widened.

“This is lingerie, Ominis!” She said as she looked at him.

“Yes it is my love, keen observation.” Ominis spoke as his eyes had a flutter of tease and amusement in it.

“Well Ominis I am unsure if you heard me correctly yesterday but yo-” Before she could reiterate the rules of the challenge Ominis interrupted.

“There is no rule against gift giving.” He said softly as he sat on his study chair. His mind materialises the image of the girl looking at him rather than the lingerie in her hand.

“..I suppose.” She mumbled as she felt the fabric slip and soothe her fingers with its coolness.

“What color is it my love?” Ominis asked.

“It’s black.” She said with a smile on her face as she appreciated the intricate lace and all.

“I figured it since it smelt of ink and lavender. That's why I bought it, it reminded me of you.” He said with a slight pink on his face.

An idea streamed its way inside his girlfriend's head.

“Hmm.. it’ll be a shame for me to wait a whole week before I could wear such a thoughtful gift.” She said teasingly.

Ominis raised an eyebrow before asking “What are you getting at love?”

“I think I would like to wear this now, Omi be a dear and turn around would you please?” she asked with a smile.

“I believe that is a violation of the rules you set upon us.” He said feeling as if his gifts may have backfired.

“There was nothing about getting naked in each other's proximity.” She said softly as she came closer to where he was seated.

She placed her hands on his thighs, as she kissed his lips softly. The intimate action was welcomed. Her lips captured him in a slow kiss as if to say thank you.

“Thank you for the gift Omi,” she whispered in her ears before she kissed it.

Ominis just kept turning red. His body felt hot and his mind felt fuzzy.

What was he thinking? He brought the hottest girl he knows into his dorms, to give her lingerie as a gift all the while he is participating in a challenge with said girl of celibacy for a week.

He practically dug himself the hole for him to lie in.

“Turn around Omi,” she said in a voice feigning annoyance. As she walked over to the bed, her back to the boy behind her, she began to undress.

Her rob was the first to hit the ground below her, then her tie, then her white shirt. And Ominis felt his heart skip a beat as she came into her mind. Now clad in her skirt, socks and shoes but her back was naked. His little minx of a girlfriend forgot her bra. Then came time to take off her skirt and Ominis couldn’t help but hold his breath. He felt the familiar rush of blood through his body, the familiar knot in his throat, and the knowing heat that brewed in his stomach.

He was getting aroused.

“You know I was scared that I would be late for breakfast, so I just didn’t wear my knickers or my bra.” She said casually as she took off her skirt. Bending over a bit. The image of her supple skin glistening in the light came into view and Ominis finally realized what he was challenging himself to not do for a week.

He basically challenged himself to not caress her soft meaty thighs as he buried - no he can’t. He can't reminisce about what he can’t do, because then he will do it. Yes he had great restraint in the outside world but this was his dormitory for heaven's sake. He is sure that he has tainted this room more than Sebastian, and that is a fact.

Another image invaded Ominis’ mind— his girlfriend standing before his mirror, adorned in the black silk panties that clung a little snug to her hips, the delicate lace tracing patterns against her soft skin. She reached behind her, fingers expertly hooking her bra into place, completely unaware of the absolute torment she was putting him through. Her ponytail had come undone, and now her hair cascaded over her shoulders, teasing him further as it brushed against the swell of her chest.

“This looks so cute!” she gushed, turning from side to side to admire herself in the mirror.

Ominis’ chest felt tight. His mind had short-circuited. He was staring— gaping, really— his cheeks flaming red as his body grew unbearably warm.

This was supposed to be her latest attempt to seduce him, a move in their ongoing game to see who would cave first. But she had gotten completely sidetracked, too busy admiring the gift to remember her mission.

"Isn't it, Omi?" she asked, spinning toward him with genuine excitement.

He barely managed a reply. “Ye-yeah,” he croaked, stepping forward until he was right behind her. She was still admiring the way the silk hugged her when he lightly placed his hands on her hips.

In an instant, she turned and pressed soft, giddy kisses to his lips.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she murmured between each peck, her warmth sinking into him, her scent, mallowsweet and vanilla, wrapping around him like a spell.

It was too much.

The familiar weight settled low in his abdomen, his body betraying him in a matter of seconds. His cock pressed insistently against the fabric of his robe, a physical reminder of just how little control he had when it came to her.

And the worst part? It had taken nothing for her to unravel him. She could have been wearing a jester’s costume, and he still would have felt the same. Because it wasn’t about the silk, or the lace, or the way it clung to her curves.

It was her.

Her laugh. Her scent. The way she felt. The way she felt about him.

And Merlin, was he a mess for her.

“Are you okay, Omi?” she asked, blinking up at him before following his gaze down.

Her lips parted, and a slow, mischievous smile crept onto her face. “Oh… does someone need help?” she teased, voice dipping into a knowing lilt.

Ominis froze. His grip on her hips tightened ever so slightly, his throat dry as he struggled to maintain some semblance of composure.

"That's j-just a normal reaction," he muttered, his voice low, warm against the side of her face.

A shiver coursed through her, her skin erupting in goosebumps at the sound of his voice. She swallowed hard, but it was too late— her body had already responded before her brain could catch up.

She let out a soft, broken whimper.

And suddenly, the dam broke.

Ominis pulled her flush against him, his mouth crashing onto hers with a desperation that left them both breathless. His hands were in her hair, on her waist, on her, kneading, feeling, memorizing the way she melted into him. Her hands were just as eager, slipping beneath his robes, pulling at his clothes with a feverish need to feel him.

"I told you, Imelda, I don’t- WOAH!"

Sebastian’s voice cut through the haze like a blade.

They froze.

Ominis turned so fast he nearly knocked her over, planting himself in front of his barely-dressed girlfriend as Sebastian and Imelda stood in the doorway, both looking thoroughly entertained.

From behind him, she let out a tiny squeak, grabbing onto Ominis' robe as she gladly hid behind his taller frame.

Sebastian’s smirk stretched across his face as he crossed his arms. "Well, well, well. Looks like it’s time for you to pay up, Reyes."

Imelda groaned, already pulling out a small satchel of gold. "I had more faith in you, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts," she grumbled.

"Wait!" she called from behind Ominis, making both intruders pause.

"What?" Imelda asked, clearly irritated.

"You didn’t lose, Imelda. We didn’t do anything besides some light making out," she said matter-of-factly before nudging Ominis. "Right, Omi?"

Ominis blinked, his mind still racing, his body still aching. But he forced himself to nod, his face burning. "She’s correct."

Sebastian sighed dramatically. "Fine." But his smirk didn’t waver.

She took the opportunity to grab her robe and wrap it around herself before stepping forward. "Why are you two even here?" she asked, pulling the fabric tightly around her as she stood next to Ominis.

"Sebastian said he didn’t have my Potions book-"

"Which I don’t!" Sebastian cut in quickly.

"Which he clearly does," Imelda deadpanned, as she picked up her book from the study table in front of them.

Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. "As joyous as this reunion is, may I suggest you both leave so we can become a bit more… decent?"

He was amazed his voice didn’t waver.

"Five minutes," Imelda said before dragging a still-grinning Sebastian out with her.

The door shut. Silence fell.

"Soooo…" she started, pulling off her robe as she knelt to gather her discarded clothes.

Ominis swallowed hard. "Yeah."

She stood, slipping into her uniform with swift, practiced movements, casting a few quick spells to smooth out the wrinkles. Ominis did the same, knowing full well she’d fix his uniform properly in just a moment.

As expected, she turned to him, smoothing down his collar with gentle fingers. "I guess I really shouldn’t be worried."

Ominis raised an eyebrow. "Worried? About what?"

Her lips curled into a smirk. "About losing."

Ominis let out a soft chuckle before settling his hands on her hips, pulling her just a little closer. "I made a miscalculated decision," he murmured. "One that will not repeat going forward, my love."

And before she could respond, he tilted her chin up, brushing his lips over hers. His tongue traced the bottom of her lip before he pulled away— just a little tease, a taste of what was to come.

Her breath hitched, but she laughed, threading her fingers through his. "I really adore the gift, Ominis. I think I’ll wear it when I’m getting my way with you."

His grip on her hand tightened. "You’re a menace."

She giggled, tugging him toward the door. "And you love it."

Imelda and Sebastian leaned casually against the stone wall outside Ominis’ dorm, waiting. As soon as the couple emerged, Sebastian’s smirk deepened.

“So,” Imelda began, falling into step beside them as they made their way toward the quad. “Are you two planning to spend your nights in the Room of Requirement this week?”

Ominis frowned. “What for?”

Sebastian snorted, already knowing where this was going.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Your lovely girlfriend explained the full terms of the bet, Gaunt. No wanking your willy, no flicking your bean— so wouldn’t it only be fair to spend the nights together as well? I mean, it’s not like you two haven’t done it before.”

Ominis opened his mouth, then promptly shut it.

She had a point.

His girlfriend hummed in thought before glancing up at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “That does seem fair, doesn’t it, Omi?”

A pause. Then, begrudgingly, he sighed. “Fine.”

So it was settled.

Tuesday came and went without incident.

They both remained on their best behavior, though that wasn’t to say the tension wasn’t there; because it was.

Normally, Tuesday nights in the Room of Requirement were spent brewing potions, tending to plants, and— more often than not— tangled up in each other’s arms before bed. But not this time. Not with the bet hanging over them.

So instead of their usual routine, she sat behind him, fingers kneading into his back, working out the tension he refused to acknowledge.

Ominis knew she was up to something.

The moment she offered a massage, he had braced himself for torture - a slow, teasing descent into madness. But that wasn’t what happened.

There was no deliberate shift in her weight to press against him, no featherlight touches skimming too low, no sultry whispers against his ear.

Just her hands. Just steady, firm movements that should have lulled him into a state of relaxation.

And yet, he was more tense than before.

His muscles were coiled tight, his body on high alert, because none of this made sense.

She was supposed to tease him. Tempt him. Drive him over the edge until he cracked under pressure. That’s what he had prepared for.

Instead, she had done nothing.

Just as the unease was beginning to get to him, her hands stilled.

“I’m tired,” she murmured, shifting beside him onto her side. “I think I’ll stop here.”

He tensed further, waiting for the catch. But there wasn’t one.

She yawned, stretching languidly before curling up comfortably against the open space beside him.

“Goodnight, Omi.”

Her voice was sweet, too sweet, and when he turned his head toward her, he could practically hear the smirk in her tone.

Ominis lay rigid, mind spinning.

This was a trap.

It had to be.

But as the minutes stretched on, her breathing evened out, soft and steady. She had actually fallen asleep.

What the hell was she playing at?

She knew him too well.

She knew that if she had teased him, he would have resisted, fought back just as hard. But this? This was calculated.

Keeping him on edge. Keeping him confused.

And Merlin help him; it was working.

At some point during the night, Ominis succumbed to sleep. His body had finally relaxed, muscles no longer wound tight with tension. And when he woke, he felt, strangely, well-rested.

Except… something was off.

The warmth beside him had shifted. Her body had gravitated closer in sleep, her presence so familiar now that he could feel it even without touching her. He reached for his wand instinctively, letting the vibrations fill in the image his sight could not provide.

And Merlin, was it a sight.

Her hair spilled across the pillow like spilled ink, a chaotic mess around her peaceful face. Her lips were slightly parted, a faint line of drool escaping the corner of her mouth, completely unbothered in her slumber.

His mind drifted lower, tracing the delicate silk of her nightdress, short, because she preferred it that way. The thin straps had slipped from her shoulders, and with them, the fabric had shifted— too much.

His breath hitched.

One perfect breast had spilled free, soft, inviting, rising and falling with every slow breath she took.

Ominis clenched his jaw, swallowing against the immediate heat rushing through his body. But it was too late; his cock had already responded, painfully stiff, throbbing against the constraint of his underwear.

A low groan slipped from his lips as he felt the unmistakable dampness of precum leaking from the tip.

This was unfair.

She had done nothing, and yet here he was— wrecked.

Ominis stood abruptly, grabbing a fresh towel before making his way to the bathroom, his body aching for relief. The moment the door shut behind him, he let out a sharp breath, pressing his palms against the cool porcelain sink.

This was hell.

It wasn’t unusual for him to wake before her— she always slept longer, comforted by the familiar sounds of his morning routine. But today? Today, he needed to get away before he did something reckless.

He turned the knobs, letting cold water cascade over his overheated skin. The shock of it sent a shiver through him, pressing him back against the chilled stone wall. His cock was still hard, still leaking, and he hated how easy it was for her to do this to him.

Even now, his mind betrayed him.

The boat house.

Her.

The way she had pressed her tits together, slick and warm, dragging him between them before wrapping her lips around him. The way she whimpered, the way her tongue had—

Fuck.

Ominis' jaw clenched. His hips had jerked involuntarily, searching for the pleasure he refused to grant himself.

He gritted his teeth.

No.

Not here. Not like this.

The pressure in his abdomen coiled tighter, a slow, agonizing burn. He needed more—but he wasn’t going to lose.

He quickly turned the water from cold to warm, hoping to reset his thoughts.

It didn’t work.

Because now, the warmth reminded him of her, of the way her body pressed against his, the softness of her skin, the heat pooling between her thighs as she whimpered against him.

Ominis groaned, gripping his aching length for just a moment before yanking his hand away.

Am I really this weak?

Do I have no resolve?

Precum dripped onto the tile, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

This was supposed to be his damn solace.

Disgusted with himself, he shut off the water, stepping out of the shower still hard, still frustrated beyond belief. He wrapped the towel around his waist, gripping it tighter than necessary, willing himself to calm down.

And then— she walked in.

Yawning as she stretched, her silk nightdress hitching up just enough to reveal the soft underside of her ass.

Ominis nearly whimpered.

Instead, he swallowed his groan, his fingers twitching at his sides as she moved past him.

Completely. Unbothered.

This was unfair.

She grabbed her toothbrush and handed it to him with a small smile. “Good morning, Omi.”

He forced himself to take it, shoving it into his mouth before he could say something pathetic.

She started brushing her teeth, her voice muffled through the bristles. “You don’t take hot showers. What changed today?”

His grip on the sink tightened. “Nothing.”

Liar.

His wand was in his pocket, and despite himself, he couldn’t stop it from registering the details of the room; the way her breasts bounced as she brushed, the way her thighs pressed together slightly as she leaned over to spit—

Salazar, have mercy.

“Whatever you say, Omi.” She moved to wash her face, her voice still deep with grogginess, completely unaware of how utterly undone he was.

Or maybe…

Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

When she stood straight again, water dripping down her neck, he was certain—

He needed to put his mouth on her.

But she didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m going to take a shower-” She paused, hesitating. He could hear the shift in her tone, could practically feel her catching herself before saying something dangerous.

He exhaled slowly.

She had almost invited him in.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Never mind. Will you wait for me before breakfast?”

Ominis shut his eyes for a moment before replying, "Yes."

She disappeared into the shower, leaving him half-naked, painfully hard, and more frustrated than ever.

He stomped back into the room, dragging his robes on with more force than necessary.

The door opened again, and he heard it-

The rustle of fabric. The soft zip of her skirt. The quiet snap of buttons being fastened.

And then… nothing.

Ominis turned slightly, waiting.

She always teased him when getting dressed. She always made a show of slipping into her uniform, always brushed against him in passing.

But today?

Nothing.

When she finally emerged, she was fully dressed—plaid skirt, vest, tie neatly knotted, socks pulled perfectly into place.

And Ominis?

Ominis felt betrayed.

Where was the game? Where was the seduction?

She sat at her vanity, combing through her hair as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

His mind raced.

Why isn’t she teasing me?

What is her play?

Isn’t she frustrated?

She hummed in thought, posing with different hairstyles before glancing at him. "Do you think I should leave my hair down today?"

Ominis barely processed the question.

When he didn’t answer, she huffed. “Omi, I want your opinion.”

He let out a slow, measured breath, gripping the edge of the bed. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

She rolled her eyes. "That’s not an answer."

Neither was hers.

She was dodging the game, changing the rules, and it was driving him insane.

She finished combing her hair, and then–

The scent of mallowsweet filled the air.

Her perfume.

The last step of her routine.

Ominis sat stiffly, his cock still aching beneath his trousers. His body was begging for relief, and all she had done was get dressed.

She hadn’t flirted.

She hadn’t touched him.

She hadn’t even tried to seduce him.

And yet, she was winning.

His grip on the bed tightened.

He didn’t know what her plan was.

But he was starting to realize one very important thing,

He might actually lose this bet.

----

She liked to think she was winning. That her calculated restraint was driving Ominis mad with frustration.

But the truth?

She was suffering just as much.

She missed everything; the weight of him pressed against her, the slow grind of his hips, the way he groaned so sweetly whenever she had him in her mouth. Ominis was addictive, a drug she could never get enough of, and now? Now she was deprived.

Her body knew it.

During class, she was restless, her legs bouncing beneath the desk, fingers twitching against the parchment as she forced herself to focus. But it was impossible. The minutes dragged, each second more unbearable than the last, because all she wanted, all she needed, was to find Ominis and kiss him.

Just a kiss.

Something small, something innocent.

But still intimacy.

By midday, she was desperate, anticipation coiling in her stomach as she made her way to lunch. She could almost see it; Ominis waiting for her at their usual spot, his head tilted slightly toward the sound of her approach, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

But then a note arrived.

Ominis had sent word that he’d be spending the afternoon helping Sebastian and Anne with Potions. He wouldn’t be meeting her for lunch.

Her stomach dropped.

The devastation was instant, a wave of disappointment crashing over her so strongly that she froze in place. She knew where they’d be; the library, but she couldn’t just show up. That would be desperate.

So instead, she forced herself to stay away.

She tried not to think about him.

Tried not to think about the ache between her thighs, the way her body responded just from missing him.

But it was impossible.

Because she felt it with every step she took; the warmth slicking her inner thighs, the way her body wept for him, not from need or stimulation but from something deeper, something worse.

I miss him.

Not just his touch. Not just the sex.

Him.

Her mind drifted.

The first time Ominis had pinned her down and insisted— begged— for her to sit on his face. How nervous she’d been, worried she’d suffocate him, but he hadn’t cared. He wanted it. He wanted her.

And when she had finally given in?

He had pulled her down harder.

She had never been worshiped the way Ominis worshiped her. Never known that kind of devotion, that kind of intensity, until him.

Oh, fuck.

Her thighs pressed together, instinctive, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed him. Now.

Lunch forgotten, she wandered the castle grounds, hoping the cold air would settle her, but it only made her feel worse. Being outside without Ominis next to her felt wrong, felt lonely.

She didn’t even care about sex at this point.

She just needed him.

She didn’t think twice as she marched toward the library, entering with determined steps. But Ominis wasn’t there.

A pout pulled at her lips.

She spent the next twenty minutes searching, feeling ridiculous, before she finally checked the Potions classroom.

And there he was.

Beautiful. Frustrating. Hers.

He stood at the front of the classroom, methodically guiding Anne and Sebastian through the steps of brewing a Pepperup Potion. A punishment from Nurse Blaney for being caught stealing potions, and instead of detention, they had been assigned one hundred Pepperup Potions to make.

Cold season was approaching, after all.

She didn’t care about any of that.

“Ominis!” she gasped, rushing toward him, ignoring the startled looks from the others as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Hard.

Too hard.

But she didn’t care, because his lips were on hers, and that was all that mattered.

The moment was over in seconds, but she felt it everywhere— her lips tingling, her skin buzzing, her heart racing.

She pulled away just as quickly, breathless.

Ominis let out a low chuckle, his smirk unmistakable. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

She scoffed, lifting her chin. “No, I could. I just came here to meet Anne.”

Anne blinked, confused. “…Me?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade today.”

Anne gave her a knowing look before smiling apologetically. “I can’t. I promised Natty I’d study for Transfiguration with her.”

A beat of silence.

Ominis smirked. “Caught in your lie.”

Her stomach flipped, heat creeping up her neck as his tone— so smug, so satisfied— sank into her skin.

Because he was right.

She had lasted half a day without him before completely unraveling.

And the worst part?

Ominis knew it.

---

By Wednesday night, Ominis and his sweet, infuriating girlfriend had made it to yet another night of self-control.

They were in bed, both immersed in their respective readings. Ominis lay propped up against the pillows, his wand hovering lightly over the pages of his book. He was clad only in silk sleep pants, having forgone a shirt; his preferred way to sleep. The air in the room was cool, but his skin remained warm, his body always carrying heat.

And she?

She was struggling.

She had been glancing at him for the past half hour, barely retaining any of the information from her Dark Arts History reading. How could she focus when Ominis was lying next to her like this? When his defined chest was exposed, when the gentle rise and fall of his breathing made his muscles shift just enough to distract her?

Tension wasn't thick, but it was there.

It had settled between them like an unspoken understanding; the constant awareness of each other's bodies, the quiet acknowledgment that one wrong move could unravel everything.

She sighed softly, finally giving up on her book. Closing it, she placed it on her nightstand before shifting closer, curling into Ominis’ warm side.

“Let’s cuddle, Omi.” Her voice was soft, sleepy, as she nuzzled against his bare chest.

A low chuckle rumbled through him. He set his book aside, adjusting easily to accommodate her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him.

“You’re so needy.” He teased, his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She hummed contentedly, one leg lazily slipping over his. “Says you.”

His chest vibrated with quiet amusement, his fingers lazily tracing circles along her exposed thigh.

Ominis was always warm, always steady, and right now, she felt safe; wrapped in the scent of him, surrounded by his presence, his touch, his breath.

For a moment, she let herself just be, breathing in the stillness.

Neither of them spoke further.

Neither of them had to.

The End.

Give me feedback and lmk anything else.

Also I'm just asking who do you guys want to win?

Masterlist

#x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #dividers by pommecita #x you smut #hogwarts smut

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