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orqheuss · 1 year ago

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I would know him blind

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

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

Word count: 4.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Incarcerous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Oh God, Ominis!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My heart. My soul. My life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come for me, my love— my life.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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blindmagdalena · 1 year ago

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The Fall

2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.

Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.

this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn. ♡

Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from.

With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it. However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel.

What the fuck?

His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.

He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?

He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.

As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.

You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust.

"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.

If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.

"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up.

"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

Even a curtain is better than no door at all.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.

“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”

“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”

You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

That’s just what you’ve told him.

From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.

Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.

Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.

To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.

Just full of surprises, little mouse.

Maybe you aren't so boring after all.

He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.

"What was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.

You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips.

The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them.

“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows.

You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.

“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.

He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.

“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”

Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.

“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.

“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.

Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.

He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #depowered homelander #i was originally just going to edit the original post but #i couldn't add a title to it that way #so have a brand new post lol #i never posted this one to ao3 because i always meant to do this #so i'll cross-post this later #also i think i want this to serve as the foundation for my depowered HL verse #especially that one where he's seemingly lost his powers for good #my writing #ho ho homelander #enjoy some wildly out of season christmas btw lol

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letthemusicmoveyou28 · 5 months ago

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Tossing Round Like Coins by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

Written for @1domegaverseficfest

Pairing: Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry

Rating: Explicit- 25k

“No, no it’s fine.” Louis rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “I guess I’m just not used to hearing another alpha talking about taking a knot is all. You caught me off guard a bit, but I don’t mind.”

Harry’s look of embarrassment soon morphs into a smirk. “Not a lot of knot talk in the locker rooms then?”

Louis laughs. “Oh yeah there is. But it’s more like arguments over whose is bigger and that.” He schools his face into what he hopes is an over exaggerated, self-righteous expression. “But not me of course, because I’m proper evolved.”

Harry snorts out a laugh. “Of course you are.”

(Or the one where Louis is an alpha who does manly alpha things like play professional football and lift weights at the gym, where he meets alpha Harry who wears nail polish and dates other alphas. Louis isn’t put off by Harry’s strange tendencies, more like intrigued. And maybe just maybe, he’s interested).

Title from Kissing Other Boys by JXCKY

Read on Ao3!

#1domegaverseficfest #non traditional omegaverse #alpha/alpha #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #larry fic #1d fanfiction #hl fanfiction #hlficlibrary #hlcreators #hltracks #thelarriefics #read on ao3

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dreaminrainbows · 3 months ago

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I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours)

Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed. He's had enormous success throughout the years, has a couple of Grammys to prove it, yet he'd still be Louis Tomlinson’s vacuum cleaner in a blink of an eye. Louis does like his coffee hot and Harry would gladly be his coffee pot. He groans again, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He's been trying to get a grip on himself for the past fourteen years, the only grip he's gotten is on his man.

Read now on AO3

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iatnen · 7 hours ago

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Finally….. I finished it…..

Second chapter of Birds of a Feather posted 🫡

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lunarheslwt · 5 months ago

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On a starlit night

Written by @lunarheslwt for @1domegaverseficfest

“Then… then, what is your motive?” “Must I have one?” Louis scoffed. “What, so am I to believe you just woke up one day and thought ‘Yeah actually, I would like to be one of the suitors of my pack Luna’s ceremony’?” “There’s no motive, nothing like you’re thinking,” Harry replied, glancing at him. “I don’t know what the alphas out there want. I just want a chance to show that I can be a good alpha that can fulfil your needs, both as your mate as well as in supporting you in your Luna duties. Just a chance to show you how well I could care for you, if you were to pick me.” Louis was floored by his sincerity. “That’s all you want? Just that?” Just me? “Yeah.” Or, omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.

24k / M / Omegaverse / Pack luna mating ceremony au / moodboard by me, all pictures belong to original creators and owners

Read here.

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sweetlarrybaby · 4 months ago

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Normal Thing by sweetlarrybaby / @sweetlarrybaby

Prompt 3183

Pairing: Harry/Louis

Rating: Explicit - 4K

"I don't even know your name," Harry said, puffing difficult breaths in and out.

"Already at the final wishes, are we?" The beautiful man laughed. And, how could he laugh in such situation? They were about to die. The plane was about to crash and it was going to set itself on fire before they'd even hit the ground, and every last one of them would be dead. "I'm Louis, there you go. All your wishes are granted before your imminent death."

(or the one where Harry’s bumped to business class and seats next to Louis. a turbulence arises and he grips his seatmate’s hand so hard it causes him to bleed, leaving Harry to tend to his wound with clear antiseptic and Hello Kitty plasters. Louis is endeared)

Read on AO3 NOW!

#larry stuff #louis and harry #louis tomlinson #daddy louis #harry loves louis #hlficlibrary #larry fic rec #larry fic #my fic rec #bottom harry #strangers to lovers #thelarriefics #hl fics #larry fanfiction #read on ao3 #my fic post #louis tomilson #harry styles #hlcreators

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the-dangerous-mute-lunatic · 1 year ago

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Redemption - @silverstreams

A commission that accompanies the final chapter of Redemption!

Every story comes to a close, and every character finds the bonds that make them whole. Congrats to Silver for 10 years and the finale of an incredible fic!

#portal #portal 2 #hl #half life #judith mossman #chell #doug rattmann #caroline #redemption #redemption spoiler #art #my art #commission #congrats again on finishing redemption!!#this was a joy to create for you #fic #ao3

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 4 months ago

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Aftermath au: Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual.

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…”

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before.

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…”

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy.

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question.

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying.

“What’s going on?

Not going to believe what?

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor.

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?”

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?”

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes.

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation.

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat.

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

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thursdaymoonrise11 · 17 days ago

Text

💫In Pursuit of Evocation - Chapter 5💫

Bonus - Samuel Greengrass (an OC):

Phoebe and Sebastian discuss using Isidora's method to extract her curse-inflicted pain

✨✨

(Samuel Greengrass was such a BIG oc in my inky blue flames fic and it was crazy that I hadn't drawn the illustrious head boy yet. Not exactly how I picture him but I think it captures his essence (in that he's such a posh boy lmao). He ended up being fairly popular in the first part, but I wonder how he will fair in the current fic hehehehe)

#i can only apologise to phoebe for what i'm putting her through #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #phoebe honeyball #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #fanfic #sebastian sallow x mc #ao3 #hl fanfic #hl fanfiction #hl fanart #fanart

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anto-pops · 3 months ago

Note

you don't have to post this.

I'm just happy you nodded to how destructive that blog is. I'm glad to see some resistance to that blogs fucking existence.

I'm sorry anto. Parts of me is happy you've slightly moved on from HL just so that hopefully didn't barb you as bad as I'm sure "bitch of the blog" wanted it to.

Yes she self-submitted it. She does that with all her worst ones. It's for attention - and blatantly visible in her discord servers. Do not take it to heart.

I will post this because if you and I feel similarly about it, there’s bound to be others.

I’ll say it with my whole chest: that entire blog is a joke and an excuse for insecure, mean spirited people to harp on others. I blocked the entire page basically right at the beginning when I started seeing it pop up in my feed, but from what I gathered when my attention was dragged there by the anons in my own inbox, it’s full of people who:

A. Hate the game and all the characters

B. Are jealous of other creators and their success

C. Are too lazy to write their own stories yet have the gall to criticize other writers’ work

The fucking audacity to make a blog like that and defend the blatant bullying with “well we’re allowed to dislike things and have our own opinions” is so unbelievably lazy it’s not even funny. Nevermind the fact that there’s nothing anonymous about half the asks there— I could clearly tell who certain asks were referring to. Maybe the whole thing started with a few harmless polls (which is what I saw at the start) but it’s transformed into something so nasty that to defend it just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Fuck that blog and fuck the people who feed into the toxicity.

#asks #if you have absolutely nothing nice to say about the HL fandom and you hate the characters so much maybe LEAVE ???#DISENGAGE WITH THE CONTENT ???#no one is holding a gun to anyones head telling them to stay in a space they dislike #moreover if the creator of that blog really did sent the ask targeting me themselves then get the FUCK off my blog #cause for them to follow up the original ask with a second one saying ‘HEY BULLYING WORKS SHE FIXED THE STORY’#just means you’re grossly obsessed #how many times was my blog/ao3 account checked for them to see I went back and edited the story ??? fan behavior. get lost and get a life #fucking sickos the lot of them #let me spread my ass cheeks so you can lick my crack a little better #I’ve had thoughts galore on that blog for a while so I’m just saying my piece now and moving on #if you like that blog or affiliate with it in anyway that’s your business but here ?? in my house on my blog ???? this is not a safe space

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

Text

In the pursuit of knowledge

(Ominis/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

***

It's after curfew, and you and Ominis are tipsy on firewhiskey in the Undercroft. The sexual tension is heavy in the air-- what are two teenagers secretly in love to do?

Ao3 link here

Smut based on a drawing by @gangstagandalf

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

You were lying on the floor of the Undercroft, your legs crossed in front of you and your hands resting on your abdomen as you gazed upwards. A small smile creased your face as you asked the blond next to you the question that had been on your mind since the firewhiskey entered your system a few hours ago, your foot lightly tapping his where they touched. Ominis was leaning against one of the many columns in the space, his head resting heavily against the stone and his legs stretched as well, forming an L shape with your bodies. You both were pleasantly tipsy by this point, a soft warmth filling your bodies and a lovely little fog swirling through your minds. Sebastian had left not long ago, claiming that he was off to his bedchambers to sleep off his inevitable hangover; you had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually going to go bother a particular brunette Hufflepuff with a soft spot for beasts, though.

The boy pondered this for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing at his brow. He swirled the bottle of whiskey in his hand around, tapping the base of it against his thigh. A hum left his closed lips before he spoke. “No, never really had the inclination to.” He leaned forward slightly, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a small drag of the amber liquid before letting gravity pull him back towards the pillar with a thump. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “Many have tried, but it didn’t feel right.”

A look of confusion passed over your face, your lips tweaking into a small frown as you raised up to your elbows. “What do you mean?”

He lazed his head towards your direction, eyes still closed but a close-lipped smile creeping up his cheeks. “I always thought my first kiss should be with someone I cared deeply for— maybe even loved, if it came to that. My parents have tried to set me up a numerous amount of times, but I didn’t feel anything for the girls they introduced me to.” He turned away from you again, his eyes opening and staring unseeing at the arched ceiling. “I want all the feelings people talk about— the butterflies, the fireworks, the encompassing warmth, not just my name signed next to some random woman that my mother deemed ‘appropriate’ for me so we can keep the bloodline strong.” He cleared his throat, swallowing around the sudden nervousness that rested there. “What about you? Has there been anyone?”

You hummed in thought, nodding along with his words. “I’ve been waiting for the same, though I can’t say I’ve had many strong contenders.”

You watched as a chuckle took over his visage, his perfect teeth glowing in the candlelight and his shoulders lightly shaking with mirth. “Yes, I imagine there aren’t many good choices in our current pool of suitors.”

A snort blew out of your nose against your consent, your expression twisting into one that said “no shit.” “Agreed. Most only want one thing anyway, and if I haven’t kissed anyone yet I’m certainly not doing that. At least, not with just anyone.”

Ominis made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat, the smile falling from his face as fast as it appeared and his eyebrows pinching downwards. “If those neanderthals only care about getting their dick wet, they don’t deserve your time.”

You laughed loudly, the crassness of his words startling you. After a few moments, he joined you with his own sounds of joy, ending with both of you breathing heavily and a rosy flush across your cheeks. Your hazy, intoxicated eyes floated over to his form, taking a moment in the calm to drink him in entirely. Nearly everyone knew that you liked the blond boy— everyone except him, of course. No matter how many times you’ve tried to hint at your feelings, each one completely went over his head. Some had told you to just give up, that he was never going to get it or he was just trying to spare your feelings by ignoring your advances, but you truly couldn’t help it; the boy was beautiful inside and out. It certainly didn’t help your hunger for him that he had decided it was too hot earlier and undone the first few buttons of his shirt, unknotting his tie in the process and leaving it loose around his neck. You took in his birth marks first, tracing each and every little dot from the corner of his eye, down the tops of his collarbones, all the way to his long, lithe fingers still wrapped around the neck of the square shaped bottle. Merlin, even his fingernails were lovely; you had never admired the small details of someone before him— how his elbows sat outside of his rolled up sleeves, the length of his golden eyelashes, the curve and pale pink color of his cupids brow. Your eyes danced over the curve of his mouth, wishing desperately to know what he tasted like. Would he be sweet, like the candies he loved so much? Would he be bitter like the firewhiskey on his breath? Or would he be something entirely new, something you had never tasted before? Your cheeks burned at the thought. Moving slowly upwards his face, you got caught on the sharpness of his cheekbones next. One wrong move and you could cut yourself on those ridges. You thought that would be a beautiful reason to bleed. Trailing up the soft curve of his ear, you admired his flaxen hair under the low lighting. The tiny blazes of the floating wicks caught each strand growing from his scalp and transformed them into spools of pure golden silk. You wondered if it was as soft as it looked— if it would look as pretty grasped between your fingers, if the light would catch it the same from between your thighs—

Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, a familiar warmth growing in your lower stomach.

Cutting off your lewd thoughts, you snapped your eyes to his, watching the pale blue irises dance in the firelight. They were almost ethereal— otherworldly, you would say. There was something about the color that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Or maybe it was the sparkle that resided inside, the hidden spark of mischief that rarely saw the light of day? Either way, you could stare into those eyes all day if he would let you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or something about the intimacy of the situation at hand, but you wanted to swim in that blue. You wanted to jump in and dive all the way to the bottom of his mini-oceans. Drowning in his eyes would be your favorite way to go.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your tongue poking out to wet yours as you pondered your next move. Crawling up to your knees, you shuffled towards the boy, reaching your hand out for the whiskey in his grasp. You gently unwound his fingers from the neck, minutely shuddering from the dizzying spark that passed between your hands touching, and took a long drag. Ominis laughed at the little cough that escaped from you, his hand reaching up and smoothing his hair before flopping downwards and landing right on your thigh. His fingers slid dangerously under the hem of your skirt, smoothing against the tops of your thigh-high socks. Color spread across your face and down your neck at the pure heat that radiated from his palm— a matching blush stretching across the boys cheeks just the same. Even still, he made no move to change his grip, going as far as to squeeze the skin between his fingers unconsciously.

You swallowed roughly, your gulp near audible as you lifted your own hand into the air, letting it hover for a moment with nerves before steeling yourself and letting it fall atop of his. Pure need burned under your skin. Perhaps it was time to be more direct in your approach.

Clearing your throat, you leaned slightly closer to the very handsome Slytherin. “Ominis, you’d say we’re friends, correct?”

Confusion creased his face, a question dangling at the tip of his tongue. “Yes, you know you’re my closest friend besides Sebastian. Why?”

You shift closer, causing the both of your hands to slip further up your skin. The blond swallowed thickly, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure building in his pants.

“Would you say you care for me?”

Ominis can smell the tension in the air around the both of you. He inhales it deeply, his eyes fluttering closed at the enticingness of it. His voice comes out as a stuttering breath. “Y-yes, you could say that.” Care was definitely putting it lightly— he had been smitten with you for Merlin knows how long.

In a bold movement, you shifted your weight and threw one of your legs to the other side of his, straddling his hips and pressing your heat against his thigh. His other hand shot up to hold you still at the waist. Both of you were panting, heaving breaths mingling in the space between your faces. Your hands came up to drape around his shoulders, one of your thumbs smoothing back and forth on the skin creeping out from under his starched collar. Leaning forward a bit more, your nose brushed against his, igniting the fireworks in your chest and sending your eyes fluttering shut. There were mere inches between the two of you— one move and you would fall into the sweet oblivion of his kiss.

The boy could hear your heart pounding in your chest; It was a comfort to know that you were just as nervous as he was. His grip tightened at your waist as his thumb mimicked the motions on his neck at the center of your thigh. He could feel himself getting excited where the both of you were connected, and his heart skipped a beat when your lips very lightly brushed against his— barely a touch but still so very tantalizing.

Your words were nothing more than a breath. “Can I kiss you, Ominis?”

He loved how his name sounded on your lips.

A low groan came from his chest, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

And then there was no more space between the both of you. The kiss was gentle— lips carefully caressing against lips like two fragile pieces of glass. It felt like you were made to kiss him. Neither of you moved in fear of scaring the other away, your bodies stiff and hands trembling where they rested. After a moment you separated, breathing shakily against the other while your foreheads rested together. Ominis’ hands squeezed you harder, pressing his fingerprints into your skin and accidentally dragging his still moving thumb to your inner thigh. You sighed, a small moan humming in the back of your throat.

It was like a switch flipped in the blond at the sound— a primal hunger waking up inside of him at the sound of your pleasure. His lips surged forwards again, capturing yours in a searing kiss for the second time. He pressed you tightly to him, the hand on your thigh moving even farther up your skirt, passing over your bottom and pressing at your lower back. The other moved from your waist up to your head, weaving his fingers through your hair and gripping at your roots. You keened against him at the sudden pain, rolling your hips in search of a delicious friction you’d never known before. The blond’s tongue ran along your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from your throat and opening you up to his invasion. The absolutely sinful sounds of your tongues pressing together sent a shiver of arousal down your spine. Your hand snaked up the side of his neck, slithering into his golden locks and harshly tugging his head back so you could get to the supple skin at his collar. He hissed, mouth falling open in pleasure as you attacked the skin where his shoulder connected to his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses in the wake of each of your love bites. The hand at your back slid down and grabbed hold of your ass, grinding you down on his hard length and sending a tumbling moan from the both of your mouths.

The fingers tangled in your hair tugged you back lightly, dragging your face from his flesh and forcing you to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown out to their full size, the cicle of black nearly taking over the entirety of the soft blue pools in lust. His chest was heaving as he struggled to push air into his lungs and speak at the same time. “Wait— I need to know that you actually want to do this.” It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your chest at the vulnerable look in his eyes. He was bearing his whole soul to you. “Call me selfish if you wish, but if we continue down this path I do not think I will be able to stop myself. Please tell me you want this as much as I do— that you burn for me as much as I burn for you.”

You breathed a laugh against his open lips, grabbing at the ends of his tie and pulling him closer once again. “I crave you more than I have ever craved anything else in this world.”

You cut off his sigh of relief with your mouth, teeth clashing together from the velocity. You use your hips to slightly rotate the both of you, pushing Ominis’ body backwards with your chest until you were lying back on the cold stone ground. He chuckled against you, biting your lip and pulling gently.

“Eager little minx, aren’t you?” You wanted to kiss that smug look from his face.

Your hands began to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaning close and just teasing your lips on his neck. You felt wonderful against him. “May as well move to the next step— the pursuit of knowledge awaits no man.”

His barking laugh filled the chasmous space around you, ricocheting off the walls and echoing back to you before it was swallowed by a surprised moan from your teeth digging sharply into his collarbone, your hips rolling downwards in tandem. His large hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs, trembling in hesitation and restraint; he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hips and drag you down across his throbbing length. You had similar plans it seemed as you pulled back and began unbuttoning your shirt. Ominis quickly captured your lips again, replacing your hands with his and all but ripping the fabric from your form, leaning upwards slightly on his elbows and shucking his own shirt from his body. You undid the button of your skirt as well, leaving you in just your underclothes. You moved to pull the long socks from your feet but a hand stopped you, a growl filled with pure, unfiltered want sending a pulse directly to your already dripping core.

“Leave them on.”

You frantically nodded, dropping your weight back onto his lap and grinding against him again. The sweet, sanguine sounds of each moan you dragged from his bruised throat furthered your movements. Incredibly annoyed at the fact that he still has trousers on, you reached your hands down and began to undo his belt, threading the leather through the buckle and tossing it in the direction of the rest of your clothes. You wanted to lick, to taste every single inch of his skin. Your fingers ghosted at the area where you connected, dragging your fingertips along his hard member and drawing an absolutely lewd whimper from his kiss-bruised mouth.

You whispered against the skin of his chest, taking one of nipples between your teeth and lightly biting. “May I?”

Ominis didn’t care what you were asking for, as long as you didn’t stop. “Fuck— yes, stars, please.”

Him begging for your touch was doing something to you.

You smiled against his ribs, pressing kisses to every freckle and mole you could find as you drifted downwards to his needy manhood. If someone were to tell Ominis that he died and had gone to heaven, he would have believed them— there was no way this was actually happening. A rouged blush dressed his entire body when he felt your fingers drag along the waistband of his trousers, your nails kissing his skin before popping open the button and dragging down the zipper. He lifted his hips to help you, hissing as you pulled his trousers and pants down to his knees and letting the cold air of his secret hideaway brush against his smoldering skin. His cock stood at attention in front of your eyes, the tip a brilliant pink and precum leaking from his slit. Your hot and heavy makeout session really got him going.

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing a particularly prominent vein along the underside. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

The praise drew another whine from his throat, and he threw one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound in embarrassment. You must have put some sort of spell on him, there was no way these sounds were voluntarily leaving him. You nipped at his hipbone in a warning, trailing your finger along the vein that was currently fascinating you.

“No muffling yourself, my love. Let me hear you— I love your voice so much.”

He hesitantly removed his hand from his mouth, choosing instead to run it through his hair and mess it up even more while his other hand reached down and threaded in your own locks.

You smiled wryly against the skin of his thigh. “Good boy.”

You punctuated your words with your tongue, dragging the appendage along the length of his twitching cock and drawing a long, thunderous moan from the boy below you. My, what lovely sounds he made. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his weeping tip before opening your mouth and taking him into your throat one inch at a time.

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat, pleasure flooding his system. “Fuuuck, you’re lips feel so good around me, darling.”

Darling. The pet name only spurred you along even more, your eyebrows knitting together as you fought against your gag reflex to fit even more of him into your awaiting throat. You were going to take him all the way to the hilt.

A stream of moans and grunts fell from Ominis’ throat as you bobbed your head up and down, finding a rhythm that works for the both of you. His fingers tightened in your hair, struggling against his need to grab your head and fuck into your throat. It wasn’t like he hadn’t experimented sexually before, he was a teenage boy after all. Masturbation was normal at this point in his life, but his hand never felt this good. Each bob of your head, each twist of your tongue along his length, sent a bolt of electricity down his spine and directly to the spot in his lower stomach where a knot of pleasure was forming. You lifted off of him with a pop, heaving air into your lungs and tonguing at his slit, and the blond saw stars. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate; his orgasm was fast approaching with every flick of your heavenly muscle. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for something as you inhaled and exhaled headily from your nose. He was about to ask what you were doing when you took him back into your mouth in his entirety, sliding his cock down your throat and letting your nose rest against the curls at the base. He couldn’t stop the sounds that came from him, each one higher pitched and more needy than the last. Ominis tugged at your hair, trying to pull you off before he finished.

“W-wait— Shit, I’m so close. Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

You didn’t listen, digging your nails into his hips and holding on for dear life. Your throat pulsated around him as you struggled to not gag, drawing a particularly loud and high pitch whimper from the blond. You reached down and thumbed at his taut sack, and he was a goner. A hiss that sounded distinctly like your name flew from his open mouth as he shot down your throat. You swallowed around him, licking at his slit for every last drop and pulling overstimulated keens from your lover’s throat. He yanked you off of him, an absolutely glorious blush covering the entirety of his body. You watched his chest heave up and down for a moment before you made your way back up to his face, smoothing your hand over his cheek and pushing the sweaty hair off of his temple before capturing his lips into a kiss. Ominis squeezed you as tight as he possibly could to his chest. You couldn’t help grinding against his softening dick, coating it with the slick that had begun to seep through the crotch of your panties and run down your leg. The Slytherin hissed between his teeth, grabbing your neck lightly and pulling you away. You chased his mouth and he chuckled.

“I can’t decide if you were sent here to save me, or kill me.”

He could feel your chuckle against his palm. “Why can’t I do both?”

He hooked one of his legs around yours, using the leverage to flip you over and press your back against the floor. Your mouth dropped open in pleasure from the feeling of his fingers tightening around your larynx. Ominis chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up against where his thumb was on your pulse point.

“Oh, you like that? We’ll explore that more text time, I think.”

Next time. You liked the sound of a next time.

He ghosted his hand down your chest, grabbing at your still clothed breast and kneading the flesh, and it was your turn to whimper. Ominis wasted no time reaching behind you and struggling with the clasp of your bra, curses falling from his lips in annoyed desperation. Just as you were about to help him, he retracted his hands and instead wrapped his hands around the band, growling in frustration.

“Blasted thing—”

With a hard yank, he ripped the fabric of your bra and tossed it across the room into some unknown corner. You opened your mouth to protest when he crashed his lips to yours, pawing at your now free breasts and drawing little whines from your chest.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

The pretty blond kissed down your neck, leaving a scattering of bruises like you did to him before making his way to your heaving chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and tweaking it with the tip of his tongue. You ran your hands through his hair in utter bliss, soft hums breaching the space around you. He let go of your peak with a sinful pop, drawing your attention to him as his other hand slid down to the waistband of your panties. Ominis pressed a kiss above your heart, letting his finger run along the underside of your final piece of clothing and listening to your breath hitch. That vulnerable look was back in his eyes.

“I want to return the favor. Please, please let me taste you.”

His sweet words were making your head spin more than the firewhiskey ever could. You made a noise of affirmative, not trusting your voice at the moment, and thread your fingers through his hair again. It truly was as soft as it looked. The blond smiled, his grin full of teeth and like he had just won the lottery, before he kissed his way down your stomach, stopping at your underwear and mouthing hotly at your hipbones. You whined in impatience, and he laughed against your skin before taking the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs, kicking off the rest of his clothes in the process. Your breathing got increasingly shallow as he threw your legs over his shoulders, his lips pressing against the skin of your inner thighs and biting darker hickies in a spot no one else would see. He got closer and closer to your throbbing center, inhaling your heady scent and nearly losing his last little bit of composure. He looked up at you though his eyelashes, gazing at you like he could actually see how disheveled you were.

“I need you to tell me what to do, can you do that?”

You nodded, pulling lightly at his roots. He bit the mound of skin above where you wanted him.

“Words please, dove.”

You swallowed thickly. “Y-yes, I can do that.”

He smiled, turning your words from earlier back on you. “Good girl.”

A loud mewl spilled from you as he licked a hot stripe along your folds, the tip of his tongue catching on your clit and painting your vision white. He pulled back with an agonized groan.

“You’re so wet, my darling. Did I do this? Merlin, help me.”

He dove back into your sacred place, lapping at you like a man in a drought. You directed him to the best of your ability, telling him what spots made you see stars and the perfect rhythm to make you come undone. He was a quick learner, and soon you were writhing under him in the throes of pleasure. He had his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves atop your privates, flicking his tongue every so often and sucking as his fingers teased your entrance. Whimpers of curses and his name streamed from your chest like a waterfall. Ominis carefully pressed one of his fingers into you, giving it an experimental thrust in and out, and your back arched off the ground in a desperate attempt to get closer as your thighs clamped tightly against his ears, suffocating him in your sweet center. You were a siren, and he was but a simple sailor entrapped by your hypnotizing song. What a lovely way to die.

Groans of satisfaction sent vibrations through your entire body, dragging you closer and closer to your release.

You keened feebly, begging the boy making you feel this good— for what, you weren’t sure. “Please, Ominis—”

He groaned again, and the knot in your lower stomach got impossibly tighter as he pressed a second finger into you and curled, pressing his fingertips into that delicious place that you had never been able to reach when you were alone in your dorm room. Incoherent whimpers screamed from your throat at the sheer bliss that flowed through your body, your hips wiggling sporadically as he scissored his fingers and prepared you for his length. One particularly hard bit of suction on your clit had you tumbling, your orgasm rocking through you like a speeding bullet and sending blinding fireworks through your brain. Ominis smiled as he worked you through your finish, proud of himself for making you cum on the first try. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up from between your legs and crashing your lips together in need. You could taste the saltiness of your slick on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slipping through your folds and sliding slightly inside. You both groaned at the feeling, your fingernails digging into the blond’s shoulders at the minute sting. Ominis pressed his forehead to yours, trying to steady his breathing and heartbeat and whispered against your lips.

“Are you sure you want this, my love?”

You nodded your head, a plea slipping out. “Yes.”

He moaned at how needy you sounded— needy and cock-drunk for him. He kissed you, spilling all of the love he felt for you into it.

“Please tell me if you want to stop; I don’t want to hurt you.”

You huffed, “Why would I ever want to stop?”

You both moaned loudly as he breached your walls, pushing his hot member into your equally sweltering core inch by inch. Your eyebrows scrunched together at the pressure, and Ominis kissed the pain away as he got deeper and deeper. Finally he bottomed out inside of you, and you both stilled for a moment to get used to the feeling. You had never felt so full before, it was like he was touching every part of your body at once. Everything was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough. The blond dug his fingers into your hips as he warded away his encroaching orgasm; he didn’t want to finish before he could even savor the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. You squeezed his shoulders, giving him the signal that he can start moving, and he began thrusting in and out of you at a carefully slow pace. It was like nothing you had ever felt before— the pleasure was immeasurable. How people weren't doing this every second of the day, you weren't sure. You craned your neck down to were you both were connected and you couldn't help the harlequin moan that ripped from your throat. Whatever you were doing before this moment in your life was a waste— every moment not connected to Ominis Gaunt was an absolute waste. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing him deeper inside of you and drawing a growl from Ominis’ very soul. He picked his speed up as his orgasm crept up on him again, needing to feel you finish around him more than anything.

"Merlin, you feel so good around me— like you were made to take my cock."

His uncouth words went straight to your core.

Your mewls and moans filled the room; he was glad the Undercroft was so far under the school, lest someone would have definitely heard your screams of ecstasy. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, definitely leaving bruises that will only get darker the next day, and slammed his hips against yours. His own wanton moans sang along with yours as the knot in his stomach tightened. You could feel how close he was from the stutter in his rhythm, and you reached your hand between the both of you and rubbed at your clit, pushing your own finish closer to the surface. In a rush of animalistic desire, Ominis leaned forwards and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, giving you the last push you needed to spill over the side of the precipice. Your orgasm crested over the edge, dyeing your vision a stark black as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You squeezed impossibly tighter around the blond’s thrusting cock, sending stars to the forefront of his mind for the second time that night and causing him to speed up his thrusts even more, chasing his own orgasm as you milked the life from him. His hips grew sporadic at the feeling of your tight cunt swallowing him whole, bringing his finish just out of reach. He panted against your shoulder, holding you against his chest as he whimpered.

“W-where do you want me t-to—”

You cut off his sentence, the throes of your orgasm still shocking through your system. “Inside me. Please, Ominis, I want to feel you fill me— I’m on the potion— Fuck, please!”

That was enough to send him over, his orgasm crashing over him like a tsunami as he spilled his life force deep inside of you. He thrust a few more times inside of you, prolonging his bliss before he stilled, both of you heaving air into your lungs like you would never breathe it again. He rolled off of you, dropping his whole exhausted body weight to the floor and pulling you against his chest. You rested there for a moment, basking in the glow of your first time and listening to the rapid pulse of the blond’s heartbeat. It sang to you a sweet lullaby, lulling you to sleep in the comfort of your lover’s arms. Ominis sighed, completely content for once in his life.

“I have wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Your head shot up in shock, your jaw dropping nearly down to your chest. “You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?!”

His eyes widened at your shout, processing your words for a moment before a blush spread down his neck again. He brought his hand up to his face, covering it in embarrassment as he laughed at how stupid the both of you were. You joined him after a moment, your head bouncing up and down against his vibrating chest. Once your cackles pittered off to soft chuckles, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple and running his fingers through your hair.

“I guess we need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shuffled your body upwards, dangling your face over his and bringing your lips close for another sugary kiss. “Indeed we do.”

***

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