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pastafossa · 2 months ago

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"Poor thing." (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

So as promised, I'm taking part in the October Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day One I had three prompts to choose from, and I wound up going for the kink prompt of somnophilia cause, well, I'd hinted at it in TRT as being something Matt liked, but never actually sat down and wrote anything out for it. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me, but for now, please enjoy Day One! This is not specifically written as any fem!Reader in particular, although any readers of TRT can choose to see this as TRT's reader!

As a reminder, if you'd like notifications when I post something, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck. But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he?

Wordcount: 3.3k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: consensual somnophilia (they talked about this being fine, don't worry), oral f-receiving, grinding, PiV sex, some dirty talk. 18 and up only please!

Oh and we're black suiting this cause fuck yeah.

Your arousal hit him the second he opened the rooftop door.

The scent of it stopped him dead in his tracks, threads of heat winding through him as he drew in a long, slow inhale, savoring it. Another inhale, and he let out a low rumble of pleasure, his mouth already watering, cock stirring.

Well, that was one way to be welcomed home.

Not that he was complaining. His night had gone well enough—the fights visceral and satisfying, with multiple people he’d ensured would make it home safely. But your skin against his, fucking his way lazily inside you while you moaned loudly into his ear, dragging your nails down his back, would only make a good night better. However, as he eagerly stepped through the door and closed it behind him, it quickly became clear that your body’s call to him wasn’t exactly intentional.

He directed his senses down the stairs and into the bedroom, hunting through sensory information, through the fire of the world until he found you in bed. You were laying on your side and tucked under the blankets, one of your arms thrown over his pillow to hold it up against your chest. And despite the tempting scent of you in the air, you weren’t moving. Not really, anyway. At most, every now and then your fingers would twitch or curl, your heartbeat uneven and a little restless.

Asleep.

You were dreaming, then.

Maybe even dreaming of him.

He slowly dragged his tongue over his lips, considering his options.

But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he?

Just like that, he settled on a course of action.

He crept silently down the stairs, stripping out of his gloves and black mask as he went, tossing them aside without care for where they fell. The bottom step was carefully avoided, thanks to its tendency to creak and alert you to his presence. He stopped only long enough to kneel and quietly unlace his boots, tugging them and his socks off so that he could slip barefoot into the bedroom, weaving through the shadows, navigating around any floorboards that might give him away. He did it all without a sound, his senses so focused now he could hear the faint whisper of the dust motes in the air stirred by his passage, hear the tiniest shift of your skin against the sheets as you breathed, hear the blood flowing hot beneath your skin where you’d grown flushed and aroused.

The scent of your arousal was even stronger here in the bedroom, more than enough to thicken the heat inside him, an instinctive little purr halted in his throat before it could stir the air with sound. His body knew just as well as he did what that scent meant, what always followed, and his nostrils flared as he got closer to you, taking in how your pheromones had mixed with his in bed. It stirred some possessive, lazy satisfaction in him to take in the way you’d curled up with his pillow, chasing his scent, and you were even wearing—

Oh.

You were wearing his shirt.

It was like you were begging for this, for him, for what he had planned.

He crept up onto the bed on his hands and knees, each shift of the mattress followed by a pause, a confirmation from your heartbeat and breathing that you were still asleep. He had to be careful if he didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t that you’d be angry, of course—you’d both agreed that this sort of thing was alright, though he’d had a far easier time making use of that agreement than you had thanks to his senses. No, this was about ensuring you still had a chance to rest.

Though, if he were honest, the challenge of this was a thrill all its own. It was a delicate balancing act to give you the sensations you needed, allow himself access to your body, all without waking you. It was as if he were hunting you, gradually gaining ground from the shadows until at last he could take hold of his prize. Fortunately, this prize was one that would leave you both satisfied.

The moment he found himself over your hips, he shifted to catch the blankets and slowly, ever so slowly began to edge them down.

Gentle.

Inch by inch, he bared your body to the air. You didn’t so much as stir, well and truly asleep, and presumably still caught up in your dream. Even so, he held his breath, listening closely to the beating of your heart and your shallow breathing. But he’d been careful enough, and besides, you were used to him climbing into bed in the middle of the night, shifting the blankets around as he crawled under them to join you.

The scent of you that rose up as the blanket slid down was so much richer now that it wasn’t stifled and trapped by thick fabric. It made him shiver, his cock already so hard he could feel a damp spot growing on the silk of his boxers. He needed more of that scent, and to taste it, too, but the angle was all wrong with you on your side. So he gently traced one fingertip up the side of your thigh, applying the barest hint of pressure. You were normally fairly responsive to him even in sleep.

“Roll over for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips, light as a feather, against your hip. “You smell so good. I need a taste.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his touch or his voice that made it past whatever dream you were lost in, but either way, some part of you heard him. You breathed out a soft sigh, twitching a little until he helped you roll slowly onto your back beneath him. You made a soft sound that might have been his name, and he couldn’t resist letting out a reassuring little croon as he pressed your slack thighs outwards, gradually parting your legs. There wasn’t so much as a hint of resistance as your legs fell open, baring the wet heat of your pussy to him.

God, your scent.

He quickly backed up a few inches before dropping to his hands and his knees, lowering his head just over your hips to quietly inhale the scent of your cunt. The rich, musky tang of your arousal—all pheromones and slick warmth—left him half mad, his eyes rolling back. His hips instinctively snapped forward against nothing but air, his body curving as if he were already fucking his way into you.

It only got worse, got better when he let his head fall further, hungry for just a taste. He slipped his tongue out until he could use the tip for the barest little lick at the line of your slit where your arousal had gathered, your body twitching as he did. Even that small taste hit him like a drug, and he swallowed down a ragged moan, his chest hitching as he kept the sound from reaching the air. He’d told himself he’d just have a taste, just one, but one quickly became two became three, hungry, quickening laps at your slit until he finally whined softly in want and dropped the rest of his body down, burying his face desperately against your cunt.

Your hips twitched, rocking against him just slightly, and you let out the softest little whimper as he grunted and slurped quietly at your slit, wetness smearing across his chin and mouth. Only once he’d thoroughly tasted what you’d made for him did he slide up to your clit, tongue extended to lap at it with little kitten licks, ones designed to encourage your body to give him more of your slick wetness, your body jerking with every pass. He tried to remind himself to be gentle, to take things soft and slow so you didn’t wake, but that was so hard when you whimpered again, whimpered as he pursed his lips to suck lightly at your clit, drawing it into his mouth to work with his tongue. Your fingers curled and released against the sheets, and you tasted so good that he found himself fucking against the mattress, humping mindlessly at the folds in the blankets like an animal.

“M… Matt.”

His eyes fluttered lazily open, his gaze drifting up around the sensory shape of you. You were all flowing air currents and sounds and scents, twisting tongues of flame fed by the growing heat of both your bodies. Your heartbeat was still too slow to signal you’d woken up, but your breathing had picked up, your eyes fluttering more rapidly behind your eyelids.

If you hadn’t been dreaming of him before, you were now. And if you were still dreaming, he was safe.

He rumbled a low noise of satisfaction, using his fingers to part your folds before dipping down to your entrance. Once there, he began to lick firmly at you, pressing deeper and deeper until at last your body opened to him and he slipped inside. You let out a sleep little mewl, one of your legs shifting restlessly in your sleep, your head rolling on your pillow as he moaned quietly, curling his tongue inside you to drag against the silken heat of your clenching walls, his nose grinding gently against your clit.

Did you know, somewhere deep down, what he was doing? That he’d spread you open like this and worked his tongue inside you? Or did all your dream self know was that you suddenly felt so, so good?

The very idea that you might not know, that you’d left yourself so vulnerable to him, had him dangerously close to coming, his motions growing just a hint more frantic. Wetness smeared across his face as he kissed sloppily at your slit, kissed at it like he might your mouth, snaking his tongue out to slide inside you with every pass of his lips.

He listened carefully to the quickening pace of your heart, your breathing, taking in the faint sheen of sweat forming on your skin. Every time your heartrate rose too high, he’d slow just a little, or shift his mouth over to your folds or the inside of your thighs. It was there he left you a mark or two, sucking gently at thin, delicate skin. Even if he managed to do this without waking you, you’d know tomorrow what he’d done when you saw the little love bites and bruises between your thighs. The very idea made him purr warmly against you, and he quickly worked his hand down beneath himself until he could undo his pants, pushing the fabric down until he could pull his hard cock free. He took a moment to grind slowly, deliciously against the sheets, presing his mouth to the skin of your thigh to muffle his hitched moan. And that reminded him of what he’d planned on from the start, before he’d become distracted by the taste of you.

He was close, and he needed you. Fortunately, based on the way your body had begun to tighten in increasing waves, you were close, too.

He let his head roll to the side to rest against your thigh as he panted, still grinding himself against the sheets. “Do you want my cock, sweetheart?” he whispered, his lips curling up into a delicious little smirk when your body clenched at the sound of his voice. “I think you do. Even when you’re asleep, you need me inside you, don’t you?”

There was no verbal response, but the growing heat of your skin was enough for him. He rocked himself up as gently as he could, stopping just long enough to strip the rest of his clothes off before climbing slowly up your body. As he went, he caught the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up your body with him. He couldn’t take it off you—even he wouldn’t be able to mange something like that—but he had no desire to. The idea of fucking you while you were sleep, while you were wearing his shirt, was a fantasy he’d used more than once while taking himself in hand. He did, however, tug your shirt up just enough to bare your breasts to him.

Obscene, something inside him whispered in delight, a wave of throbbing heat flooding through him. Here you were asleep, shirt pushed up over your breasts, your naked cunt practically dripping onto the sheets. He balanced his weight on one arm as he hovered over you, indulging himself as he palmed gently at one of your breasts, dragging his thumb slowly against your nipple. That won him another soft moan in your sleep, your cunt clenching, body tightening around nothing. Your next moan was even louder when he dropped his head to drag his tongue hotly against your other nipple, drawing it into his mouth to catch it gently between his teeth, sucking lazily until you let out an even louder moan, one of your hands curling as if to claw at the sheets before relaxing. “Poor thing,” he crooned quietly, reluctantly leaving your breasts to climb the rest of the way up your body. “Listen to you, so needy.”

And it would only be right to help with that, wouldn’t it?

Once his hips were level with yours, he settled in, rocking and grinding his cock gently against your slit, slicking himself up with your warmth and the saliva he’d left behind. The sudden sensation of your burning heat against the underside of his cock made his mouth fall slack, and he started to pant at the little shocks of pleasure that washed over him every time he caught the head of his cock against your clit. You weren’t much better even asleep, whining as your hips jerked, eyes rolling frantically beneath your lids. It took everything in him to keep his motions gentle and slow, no matter how much his body demanded he grind and rut, fuck his way desperately inside you even if it woke you. No. No, not when he was so close, his cock now slick and ready for you. He let out a shaky breath, burying his face against your warm throat, huffing in the scent of you as he shifted the angle and began to slide inside you, centimeter by warm, delicious centimeter.

“Fuck,” he whispered shakily, one of his hands fisting desperately in the sheets beside your head. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good.”

God, you were tight, so close to coming that you were already clenching tight around him. That tightness forced him to move gradually, his progress slowed to a sinfully dangerous crawl, one that allowed him to feel every last twitch and shift of your body around his cock. It seemed designed to make him lose his mind when he was already this worked up. In a blink, he’d caught the fabric of your shirt in his teeth, stifling his hoarse, shaky moan, your shallow, hitched breathing a tantalizing whisper of sensation in his ear. It felt like it took hours, ages before he’d finally hilted himself inside you, buried in your slick heat.

He forced himself to still there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he scanned over you with his senses again.

Stuttered breathing, each breath hiding a faint moan.

The fluttering clip of your heart, just slow enough to indicate you hadn’t woken.

Your fingers clenching and releasing, spread thighs shifting in minute, restless movements against the sheets.

It wouldn’t take much more for him to come, he knew that much—the taste of you still lingered on his tongue, filled his nose, and the drag of your skin against his with every breath only left him burning. But he wasn’t a selfish lover, even when you weren’t awake to beg and plead with him for release. No, he’d make sure you got what you needed, too: his sweetheart, so tender and soft and welcoming to the Devil even in sleep.

He slowly, gradually settled his weight onto one arm, sliding his free hand down between your bodies. Even that much shifting around had him swallowing down a groan, and he couldn’t resist grinding just a little inside you. It made you twitch and whimper, hushed and breathless in his ear as he pressed his cock against that spot inside you. Once he was sure that hadn’t been enough to wake you, he quickly dragged two fingers through your folds, raking gently to gather up your wetness before he brought them back up to your clit. The rhythm he started was slow and easy, a gentle grind and loop over your clit that matched the rolling waves of his hips as he began to gently fuck you, barely retreating at all before sliding smoothly back to fill you once more.

It took him no time at all to work your body up that final hill, your breathing growing shorter, your heart rate climbing as you began to tighten around him. It helped that he knew what you needed—each retreat was slow and gentle, and he never left you more than halfway before rolling lazily back forward, ensuring your warm cunt stayed achingly full as he brought you just up to the edge. This time it was your mouth that moved, not a word but a soft whisper of skin as you parted your lips, your head tipping back. And he knew that motion, even as slack and lazy as it was in your sleep.

He purred quietly at the unconscious request that he fill you there, too, lifting his head to seek out your mouth. One soft lick against your lips and you parted them for him on pure instinct, allowing him to slide his tongue filthily into your slack mouth, dragging his tongue against yours, granting you what you’d asked for. You let out a soft sigh, your throat working beneath him as you sucked at the taste of him, of yourself, of you both.

All it took from there was one more finger grinding against your clit, a gentle buck of his hips as he moaned into your mouth, and you crested, your body tightening and releasing around him in rippling waves. Your head rolled back in your sleep, a soft gasp shuddering up your throat as you twitched and shook, eyes rolling back beneath your lids. You let out what might have been a moan of his name, hot and sweet, a sound that seared its way across his mind like a brand. That was more than enough for him, and he let himself go. He groaned softly against your lips, snapping his hips gently against you as he spilled himself near-silently inside you, filling your cunt with a spreading heat that you wouldn’t notice until morning. He kissed you through it as gently as he could, rubbing lightly, quickly at your clit to drag your orgasm out along with his, pleasure rolling through him in gentle waves. Even once you both began to come down, he wasn’t quite done, rumbling a low, possessive growl as he ground himself inside you further, ensuring he’d coated every last inch of your warm cunt, his, you were his, even in sleep. He toyed with that overstimulation just long enough for his toes to curl, for his spent, softening cock to twitch inside you, spilling a few more drops, giving you everything he had as you drifted back down into a deep sleep.

Satisfied with what he’d given you.

He got one arm down and around your hip, gently, carefully rolling the both of you until you were both on your sides, his cock still buried deep inside you. He rumbled a low noise to reassure your sleeping mind, burying his nose in your hair as you sleepily curled into him, one arm draping itself over his waist.

“Love you,” he murmured. “My good girl.” “Mm.”

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ingravinoveritas · 11 months ago

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Michael straight up writing erotic gay fan fiction about Lucian and Aro in a 2012 interview and I am losing my mind...

#michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #i'm screaming #aro #twilight #lucian #underworld #there is no heterosexual explanation for this #at this point i hope anyone who still thinks Michael is straight #can just disabuse themselves of that notion #because dear god #and if he's imagined this with Aro and Lucian he has probably imagined endless smutty scenarios with Aziraphale and Crowley #i think Michael has been telling us exactly who he is for a long time now #bless his bisexual Welsh chaos #i need to lie down now

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anto-pops · 10 months ago

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Heart of Vipers - Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 9.3k

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

Descriptions of Marvolo and Aleister Gaunt heavily credited to legacyshenanigans

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ominis was nowhere to be found in it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was looking right at you.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why wasn’t it attacking you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Still, you worried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In short, Ominis looked petrified.

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

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

“This is the worst of the damage–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had really, really fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted more– no, needed more.

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

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

You were wholly and unequivocally his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, methodical at first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then come for me, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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cyarskaren52 · 10 months ago

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#Spotify #❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#This whole case had me changing my opinions and views(at least for the moment)#celebrating the police and the system #being xenophobic towards Canadian people #posting stories with reader plus white celebrities with fluffy or smutty material #nearly being racist towards black men #saying that some of them nigcels deserved to be another hashtag #and backing the death penalty.#megan thee stallion #i’m not sad for her #i’m outraged #i’m just glad she’s in a better place now #those people can speak for themselves they know who they are #and they can go straight to hell #they will pay for their crimes #for sucking that abusers meat #Instagram #As always a loud and sincere fuck you to everyone who has doubted her and supported that Canadian cuntery who must not be named #She went through unnecessary trauma for two years #That’s unforgivable #Next level fuckery #That that type of ish that would lead to an episode of snapped or deadly women #once again #🖕🏿daystar Peterson #annnnn boom #just like that #may all who come against black women rot #Don’t fuck with black women #If you can’t love them then at least don’t harm them

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wallabywhump · 6 months ago

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Inspired by this gifset, and people in the tags saying "yoga teacher Tommy anyone?"

So, uh, please accept this offering of Season 1!Buck and Yoga Teacher!Tommy 😊 I haven't spell or grammar checked this, so please excuse any errors, I will do that before I put it on ao3 (maybe as a first meeting AU for BuckTommy week?) later lol.

Rating: Mature (esque), Buck is having some not safe for work thoughts about yoga teacher Tommy >.< (and Buck's own arousal 🤤)

Word count: 1.9k~

Enjoy!!

Buck slides through the half-open fire door at the yoga studio without double checking back down the alleyway he walked down. He's on the third yoga teacher from this particular studio, her name is Jewel on Tinder, and they usually fuck in her empty classroom.

She'd leave the door open; he would make his way through half empty hallways and dodge any actual pupils from her classes, and then they'd leave the door unlocked and-

So, he's not feeling like he needs to double check himself as he makes his way to her classroom. He keeps his head high, because if he bumps into Tiff or Kailey, he's not going to say no to them joining either, and saunters his way into Jewels classroom.

Buck feels wrong footed when he opens the door, and there is a man standing at the front of the class. He takes half a step back to check the room number on the door, and it's definitely 217 which is the number Jewel had texted that afternoon when he'd been sexting her from his bunk.

Buck knows he should probably turn around, leave, get out of there, because he has plans with Jewel, except he can't seem to take his eyes off the back of the head of this guy's head.

He's big, and burly, with arms that look like they could do some damage, rivalling some of the bigger men at the Firehouse. They're shiny and look near throbbing, in the way that Buck tends to see from the men at the gym who've just spent an hour working out, beads of sweat along lines of muscle. The kind of men he spends hours talking to about their routine, their protein intake, what weight they've made it up to.

Men who like and appreciate a good workout. Men whose physique Buck admires. Men who Buck looks up and down and commits to memory for inspiration when they're sweaty and their gym clothes no longer hide anything.

And, well, Buck can see from across the room that mystery male yoga teacher is covered in sweat. The guy's tank top isn't hiding anything, stuck to him, and Buck sees his shoulder muscles outlined by the dark fabric.

There is a towel slung over his shoulders that looks equally soaked, catching the beads that roll down his neck.

Buck follows the towel down the planes of the guy's back, the tank top clings to his waist and Buck wants to suck the sweat out of it.

The thought feels like a bucket of water over his head, and he blinks.

What?

Buck's mouth feels dry, and his mind is spinning, completely caught off guard by the desire to quench himself with a strangers sweat, and he's still staring at the guy's hips. He can't stop his eyes drifting lower and over those shorts that are obviously for modesty's sake but are achieving nothing because they've risen up between the guy's asscheeks and are cupping them perfectly.

Buck wants to blame having come here already half-horny and ready for a fuck for the way that his blood is rushing.

A good ass is a good ass.

And mystery male yoga teacher has a delicious looking one.

Buck takes a step back, committing mystery male yoga teacher's back profile to memory, and ready to find Jewel and not think about this.

But then the door swings closed against Buck's ass, and he stumbles forward into the room.

Mystery male yoga teacher jumps up and spins around and, God, Buck kind of wishes he hadn't.

The guy's front is just as gorgeous as the back, hair sticking to his forehead. His pecs are incredibly perky, yet another thing that Buck notices in other men when he's at the gym, and the tank top has risen up slightly to show off a hint of his abs, and the start of the 'v' down towards his groin and Buck would love to get his tongue in that and-

"Can I help you?"

Buck's head snaps up to look at mystery male yoga teacher's face and becomes aware that his mouth is open, and he's been looking at the poor guy like he was a tall glass of water and Buck parched.

Buck unsticks his tongue from his bottom teeth, and swallows. "Hi."

Mystery male yoga teach does not look impressed. He raises his eyebrow, - Buck wonders how someone can have such blue eyes, he could get lost in them - and tilts his head to the side.

"Want to try that again?" He asks.

Buck nods, a little numbly, and now he's looking at the guy's face, he can't stop. Buck kind of wants to kiss the guy's cheek bones, nibble along his jaw, lick the cleft of his chin. Buck's vision whites a little, as he tries desperately to steer his thoughts away from horniness.

"I," Buck starts to say, and his voice cracks so harshly that Buck has to stop and clear his throat. Maybe he was thirsty. "I was here to see Jewel."

"Jewel?" Mystery male yoga teacher says, eyebrows furrowed, looking so adorably confused as his face scrunches up. "Jewel...I don't..." Tommy's face goes completely blank for a second. "Ah, right, Julie. You mean Julie, kid?"

"Sure," Buck agrees, because he doesn't know Jewel as Jewel, but he's fairly certain Tiff and Kailey hadn't used their names either.

Mystery male yoga teacher rolls his eyes. "She went home with the flu just before her last class," he says, "sorry, kid."

He turns away, leaning over to start packing the bag at his feet, and Buck can't help but look at the guy's ass again. Bent over, it only makes those shorts ride up even more, and Buck imagines crawling across the yoga classroom floor and burying his face between them.

Can't be much different than with a woman, right?

Buck kind of wants to be smothered by them, wants to let the guy use his tongue, to feel strong thighs around his head. Buck swallows, and runs his tongue along the inside of his mouth.

"Anything else?" Mystery male yoga teacher asks still bent over.

Buck shakes his head, and then breathes. "No, nope, I'm just-" admiring the view? "I'll be leaving," Buck settles for.

But he doesn't get the chance to move, because mystery male yoga teacher chooses that moment to squat, and his thighs flex and Buck's vision has full on spots dancing in them now, with how easily the other mans legs bend, and how flexible he looks fully squatted, but strong and so in control, because his ass is just inches from touching the ground.

The man bounces when he reaches the bottom of his squat, just slightly, two bounces with his legs spread and his ass dropped, and, fuck, Buck hates that Jewel has flu.

He's going to need to borrow the studios showers to douse himself, for sure, because there's no way he makes it home with how hot he feels right now.

"Look, kid, need me to pass on a message to Julie?" Tommy asks, twisting around - still squatting, how flexible is he? - and looking at Buck.

Buck fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket. "Nah, I can just-" He clicks the button, only for the screen to stay black. Well, that explained why Jewel hadn't messaged him that it was off. "Damn," he mutters.

Mystery male yoga teacher raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, actually, can you just tell her that..." Buck trails off, and his face feels warm, because she's not going to know his name, but he can't just tell this adonis his tinder name, and he doesn't tend to tell people outside his job that his nickname is Buck. "Tell her Evan stopped by."

Mystery male yoga teacher bounces on the balls of his feet and stands up, his bag slung over one shoulder, and shakes his head. There's something to his expression, mild disappointment, but also understanding. "Julie's not going to know you as Evan, is she?"

Buck wishes the floor would swallow him up, because this man has him pegged. Or maybe he just knows his coworker really well. Could be either. Buck refuses to be embarrassed by it though, and he shuffles on the spot, puffing out his chest a little, and swallows to steel himself.

"It's, uh, Firehose."

Buck braces himself for ridicule, maybe a laugh, but mystery male yoga teacher doesn't laugh. He smirks instead, and his eyes drift down to Buck's body, lingering on Buck's chest for a few seconds before landing on half-hard cock.

Mystery male yoga teacher's eyes go half lidded, his tongue runs along his lips, and he swallows before tilting his head to the side. Buck wants to preen because he just got checked out. He just got checked out by a hot guy, and based on the reaction, the hot guy liked what he saw.

"Is it now?" Mystery male yoga teacher's voice is just as dry as his expression had been earlier, and something about that flat tone, the obvious flirt in it, does something for Buck.

"People like to tell me it is, at least," Buck flirts back with a wink.

Mystery male yoga teacher's grip on his bag makes his knuckles white, and the man nods. "I guess if it's peer reviewed," he says, finally looking away from Buck's groin to his face, and raising an eyebrow.

"By many people," Buck says, and then flounders a little because he knows he wants to flirt, but he hasn't flirted with a guy before, is he doing it right? "Very good at putting out fires, the pressure has five stars, definitely who you want to call for your emergencies."

The guy barks out a laugh, and maybe Buck missed the mark with that one, but the way mystery male yoga teacher's face scrunches up as he smiles is something Buck wants to treasure.

"Okay, well, down boy," he says. The words send a sharp bolt of electricity down Buck's spine, his skin feels like it's on fire, and he inhales sharply. "I'll let Julie know Firehose was here for her, okay?"

Mystery male yoga teacher is moving closer, clearly ready to leave, and Buck knows he'll probably never see him again if he lets him leave.

"Or, or, you could not," Buck says, quickly, it rushes out of him. "I mean, I-"

All Buck's smoothness is gone, and mystery male yoga teacher is barely two feet away, and now Buck can smell him. He sways on the spot, wants to chase that smell, press his nose into it and smell it forever. Most men at the gym don't get this close, but Buck thinks the gym might be ruined forever if he ever reacts like this again.

"Jewel didn't even give me her name," Buck says, and steps closer to him, "can't have been that serious, you know?"

"You didn't give her yours either," the man points out, unimpressed.

Buck nods, shaking his head in a 'good point' motion. "Okay, but I gave it to you."

Mystery male yoga teacher laughs again. "When I asked you." The lilt to his voice is like a sirens call, and Buck wants to make him laugh again.

"I don't give it to just anyone." Buck tries his best to look up through half-lidded eyes, bites his lip in a way one of his older flings used to like, and softens his eyebrows to appear just a little bit younger.

It works like a charm.

"Jesus Christ," Mystery male yoga teacher whispers, "you're something else, Firehose."

"Evan," Buck corrects, and smirks, because hook, line, sinker, he's bagged himself another yoga teacher.

"Well, Evan-"

Holy fuck, Buck is fairly certain he could come from this man's voice alone, his name in this man's mouth is a weapon.

"-I'm Tommy."

#911 abc #911 fic #bucktommy fic #kinley fic #bucktommy #kinley #evan 'buck' buckley #tommy kinard #wallabywrites #911 au #yoga teacher tommy au #i'll give it a tag in case i come back to do more #which i want to #because a smutty continuation is all i can think about #and i can include *armpit kink*#my writing

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urdepressedslut · 1 year ago

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Feels So Right ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: Dbf!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Ever since Bucky showed you how good things could feel, you need him to show you more.

♡ Warnings: smut, language, fluff, oral (fem receiving), rimming, fingering, petnames like a lot of them hehe,

part one ✧ main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ ONLY

It had been weeks since you and Bucky’s heated moment. Still you could feel his touch on your skin, you could still feel the pleasant buzz he had left behind. All in all, you craved him now that you had gotten a taste.

The week nights had been spent with your hand down your panties, playing with yourself just as he had taught you— but you couldn’t find relief. Your hand didn’t feel the same as his— you didn’t know how to pleasure yourself like he could. How he knew your body better than you did, was beyond you.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to try and get yourself off— you just wanted him to take care of you. Soothe the aches you felt within your body, places he had yet to touch. Your skin burned for him, and you were almost positive that no one else could put out the flames except for him.

It went beyond just his touch. He made you feel so safe— so protected in his hold. You trusted him with your life and didn’t think you’d ever find someone you felt more comfortable to be around. All his touches, all his strokes of your body were so soft— so gentle in the way he was slowly undoing you. It wasn’t like the guys you had tried to be with before, where their needs were always before yours.

No, Bucky didn’t even express his needs— didn’t even mention them. He put you before anything else, making sure you felt good without the discomfort of owing him. There was no catch— just his desire to make you feel incredibly good. It was as easy as breathing being with him. Although it had only happened once— you wanted there to be more “lessons.”

Your Dad Steve had gone out of town for a business trip, and he of course trusted you enough to leave you home alone. You were responsible and respected him and the house well. No need for a babysitter considering you were in your 20’s.

Little did your dad know— you had invited Bucky over. You may had gone a little overboard with your text message to him. You told him it was urgent, and of course Bucky had freaked out and was speeding over to the house.

That’s where you found yourself jumping up at the sound of fast knocking at the door. You held your hand over your heart and wandered to the door, opening it to reveal a slightly sweaty and disheveled Bucky.

“Everything alright?” He asked, furrowing his brows at the way your face was calm.

He had read the text right… right?

“Yeah I probably shouldn’t of worded the text like that— sorry!” You giggled, and immediately Bucky was relaxing.

He shook his head while giving you a tiny smirk.

“Got me worked up over nothing.” He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair.

You opened the door wider and stepped aside.

“Wanna come in?” You offered.

He smiled and stepped forward into the house, passing by your small frame. He loved the way he towered over you, and the way it got you all flustered.

“Sure doll.” He whispered, walking further into the kitchen leaving you at the door.

His scent wafted into your face, filling your senses with his deep minty pine smell. It was so intoxicating, you felt dizzy with the deep breath in. You quickly closed the door— locking it before following him into the kitchen.

You weren’t surprised to find him rummaging through Steve’s alcohol, which was basically his as well. Your dad only ever drank when Bucky was around.

As he was pouring himself a glass, it gave you time to really get a good look at him. You found your mouth watering at the sight, biting your lip as your eyes traveled up and down his figure. The brown plaid jacket fit him well, making him look extra handsome. His stubble looked just as it had last time, very clean— evident that he took very good care of himself and his appearance. His jeans hugged him just right in every area— overall he just looked so good.

“It’s rude to stare honey.” His voice broke you out of your trance.

You felt your cheeks get hot from being caught staring, you hadn’t meant to— but you couldn’t help it either.

“Sorry it’s just… you look good.” You admitted.

Bucky gazed down at you from across the island. Tipping his glass back, letting the burn travel down his throat. He knew you were just as starving for him as he was for you— and he knew he shouldn’t be doing this with his friends daughter. But he had a hard couple of weeks without you.

He fucked his hand nearly every night, trying to imagine your sweet sounds— and him being the one pulling them from you.

He let his eyes wander over your form, taking in your short sleeping shorts— your thin tank that did little to hide your tits. He almost growled, the way you were taunting him— the way you were teasing him with the way your nipples poked through your tank. The way your ass peaked out from the bottom of your shorts.

“(Y/n), why did you invite me over?” He asked lowly, filling his glass back up while you shuffled closer to him around the island.

You shrugged and tried to play dumb.

“Didn’t wanna be alone.” You told him.

“You sure it’s not because of something else?” He hinted.

You held his gaze, trying your best to read him— but he was good at keeping a poker face. You scooted closer.

“Maybe…” You started, taking another step closer. “Maybe I need you to teach me something.”

He lowered his gaze to his glass, raising it to his lips to tip back— his throat burning deliciously. Could he really deny you— he was already so deep in this pit that was you.

“Oh is that right?” He growled.

You nodded and took another step closer, his form towering over you more the closer you got, it had you excited and squeezing your thighs together.

Bucky noticed.

“You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel that good.” You whispered, “I wanna feel it again.”

He clenched his jaw, forcing his arms to stay either resting on the island or at his sides.

“Then you should try what I showed you.” He told you, pushing the glass away and twisting the cap back on the bottle.

You shook your head, a small frown lining your face.

“Doesn’t feel the same… I like it when it’s you.” You admitted.

Bucky took a deep breath in, your scent filling his senses and it was so lethal— he almost felt high off of it. You looked so good below him, your mock innocent eyes staring up at him, your lip jutting out into a pout. You were killing his self control— if he had any left.

“My dad won’t know— it’s okay.” You added.

That fueled the fire, the mere mention of how forbidden this was only made him want you that much more— and he wondered what had twisted him to think like that. He should stop now— head home.

But instead, he stepped forward, pressing his body against yours. Self control was no more.

“What are you doing to me baby?” He whispered, letting his hands rest of your shoulders, running all the way down your arms.

You didn’t have time to prepare yourself before he was hoisting you up by your legs, placing you on top of the island. He situated himself in between your thighs, pulling you forcefully into his chest. Your barely clothed core pushing up against his bulge.

You let out a gasp, your arms looping around his neck instinctively. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against his bulge, the jeans creating delicious friction to your aching clit.

He held his arms around your lower back, keeping you pressed tightly against him. He chuckled, his eyes hooded and dark watching you hump him like a cat in heat.

“Oh honey, you poor thing.” He cooed, cradling your jaw with one of his hands. “So desperate.”

You whined when his hands stop your movements, watching him step away from you. But you didn’t have long to complain when you saw him lower his body down— his head lining up with your crotch.

“Don’t worry baby— I’ll teach you something new.” He teased, wasting no time and pulling your shorts down, throwing them to the side.

He nearly moaned when he glanced back to find out you weren’t wearing any panties. Your core was exposed, puffy and dripping.

You felt hot under his stare, your core aching almost painfully as he just looked at it. You shifted your hips closer to him.

He glanced up to you with dark eyes, his pupils blown out with lust.

“So pretty sweetheart,” He snuck his hand closer, letting his thumb brush from your slit to your clit. “So wet for me.”

You jumped from his touch, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head when he continued circling his thumb around your clit.

"Ohhh... Buckyy..." You moaned breathlessly, your hips jutting up to push his fingers harder against you.

He yanked your legs up, forcing you to lean back with your legs up— exposing your core further. This new angle gave him a great view of your little puckered hole. His eyes darkened and he couldn’t help himself— so he leaned forward and gave your little hole a lick.

You gasped from the new feeling, never had been touched there— it was oddly pleasant, and the way he kept circling your bud while giving your hole kitten licks was heavenly.

He smiled in between licks, his stubble scratching the inside of your ass.

“Babydoll… no one ever touch you here?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb back and fourth from your clit down to your slit, while he kept up his ministrations on your hole.

You shook your head, leaning back on your shaking arms. You could feel yourself clench over nothing, your core aching to be filled.

He gave your puckered hole a kiss before glancing up to you, a growl almost escaping at the pathetic, fucked out look you had on your face. He licked his lips as the layer of sweat coating your forehead.

“No one ever took the time to take care of you honey, but I’m going to— don’t you worry.” He promised, peppering kisses to your inner thighs while he circled your swollen bud.

You began to breathe heavily as his mouth got closer to your center, your heart beating in excitement.

“Just relax baby, gonna make you feel good.” He cooed.

With a nod from you, he was shoving his face into your cunt. Giving your pussy an open mouthed kiss, letting his tongue dart inside and feel around your walls— which had you crying out, instinctively trying to crawl away because it felt too good.

He used he free hand to press down on your stomach, forcing you to lay all the way down on the island. His strong arm kept you in place, leaving you no chance to run. Not that you wanted to.

“Gotta stay still babygirl.” He instructed.

You found it hard to stay still with his thumb rubbing faster of your clit, his tongue massaging your walls and slit so perfectly you felt dizzy. You had never had someone go down on you like this, and you wondered how you had gone this long without it— it felt too fucking good.

“Bucky— feels so good, please don’t stop!” You whined, your hips starting to grind against his face in attempt to chase your release quicker.

Bucky went feral at your whines, your pleas— it only spurred him on, starting to lick, kiss and suck at your cunt faster and harder.

He stopped his rubbing motions of your clit and snuck his hand down to your slit, lifting his mouth to insert two fingers. They slid in easily with how wet you were, and he could feel your walls clamping down on them. Had him growling at your whines.

“Oh… fuckkk…” You moaned out, gripping the island in a death grip, the coil tightening within you.

Bucky lowered his head back down and sucked hard onto your clit, watching your body jolt from the sensation.

He knew you were close.

You whimpered and couldn’t stop grinding your face into his face and onto his fingers— wishing them deeper.

He started moving his fingers in a come here motion and brushed against a spongey pad— causing your hips to jolt, your cries loud and echoing throughout the kitchen.

“There it is baby… want you to cum for me.” He cooed.

He kept sucking and rolling his tongue around your clit while brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly. The edges of your vision were hazy and dark, the coil nearly snapping.

“C’mon sweetheart— let go.” He whispered, licking up and down your clit quickly.

With one last stroke against your sweet spot, you were crying out, pathetic whines leaving your lips as your body twitched and jolted, no doubt having fallen off the island if he weren’t holding you down. Waves of ecstasy flowed within you, your entire body buzzing as he kept lazily stroking your walls, avoiding your sweet spot in order not to overstimulate you.

He peppered kisses to your pussy and inner thighs as you came down, every now and then hips twitching at every other kiss he’d place on your clit.

Your breathing was slowly coming back down, you stayed laying on the island— completely covered in sweat. You had a dumb weak smile on your face, your eyes fluttered shut from the intense pleasant buzz that filled your being. You almost felt like you were floating.

“You with me honey?” He joked, giving your sensitive bud one last kiss before raising up to his feet.

He gently pulled you up so you were sitting up now. He let out a tiny chuckle at your ducked out expression.

“(Y/n)?” He teased, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

You nodded and leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in contentment.

“I’m perfect.” You whispered, looping your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest.

His heart pulsed at the action, you looking so delicate and pure hugging him like a little monkey. The waves of pure bliss from your state were overwhelming, taking over all his senses— but it still couldn’t block out the guilt that came after.

“You’re a little cuddle bunny, aren’t ya?” He cooed, rubbing your back soothingly.

He didn’t hear a response, and if you did respond— he couldn’t hear it due to his mind getting lost in the what if’s. The guilt eating away at him.

He supposed he’d had fun until the moment came where he couldn’t anymore.

TAGLIST: @kmc1989 @hanihoney88 @potatothots @billy-reads @sebastiansstanswhore @silverfire13 @lilbabygirl @ghostofwinter @hereticdance @goldylions @marvelogic

let me know if i missed you on the taglist 💗

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nadvs · 6 months ago

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A fic/ one shot like this pls https://x.com/safadosdesejo/status/1793347672859963481?s=46

😭

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

18+

You’re lounging in your bedroom when Rafe calls you from his car to vent about his family pissing him off.

Admittedly, a warm, buzzing excitement stirs deep inside you whenever you hear that tense edge to his voice. When your boyfriend’s mad, his favorite place to be is between your legs, taking his anger out with every thrust.

“I’m sorry, baby, that’s annoying,” you say into the phone as he rants to you.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before he asks, “You at home?”

“Why?” you tease. Rafe scoffs, tightening his grip on his steering wheel, imagining how he’d like your ass propped up for him, your heat wrapped around his cock. He gets hard just thinking about it.

“Don’t play games with me,” his deep voice rolls into your ear. “You know why.”

You smile to yourself and tell him to come over.

Rafe’s rough hands roam over your body the second he’s in your bedroom, his kisses urgent as he starts tugging at your clothes.

You’re pressed up against him, feeling his hard bulge beneath his jeans.

“Is it bad that I love when you’re pissed off?” you say with a breathy laugh as his lips close around your neck.

“What’s bad is that you’re making me do all the fucking work,” he grunts against your skin, pulling up your top. “Take this off.”

You strip off your clothes quickly and once he’s in his boxers, he pushes you down to your bed, hovering over your naked body, eyes drinking you in.

You lie underneath him and dip your hand in his boxers, the band enclosing your wrist.

Rafe groans when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, revelling in the way your lips part in a gasp when you feel him.

“You think you deserve it after fucking with me on the phone?” he rasps.

You palm him slowly, your breath shaky.

“I never did that. You’re just looking for reasons to be mad,” you say, solely to provoke him.

His hand presses between your legs, two fingers sliding up your middle, wetting himself with you.

“Now you want to piss me off, too?” he mutters. He lowers, his nose nudging against yours as he slowly sinks a finger inside you.

You tilt your head back and moan as he adds a second finger, stretching you. His body tightens at the promise of feeling how hot and wet you are around his cock.

“Answer me,” Rafe says sternly, curling into you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, bucking your hips against him. “Take it out on me.”

Your words send him over the edge and he pulls his fingers out of you, roughly turning you to your side.

Rafe lies behind you, hiking your leg up and guiding his cock into you. The pressure from him shoving himself inside you so quickly makes you moan in shock and pleasure.

He bottoms out, filling you completely, his hard, hot body pressed up against your back.

You feel his big hand splay over your chest, giving him all the power to control the pace. He pulls out then thrusts back in, making you lose your strength, your leg dropping.

Rafe huffs out of irritation into your ear, forcing your leg back up in the air before he returns his hand to rest between your tits.

“Making me do the work again,” he mutters. “Keep your fucking leg up.”

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“I don’t need a sorry,” Rafe says. “Take it like I know you can.”

“I will,” you promise. You firm your body, arching your back so he can hit even deeper.

“Shit,” he whispers. “My good girl. Just like that.”

His thrusts grow harder and faster as he watches your pussy tighten around him from behind. You grip your bedsheets as he slams into you, your leg up in the air.

Rafe’s hand trails up to your neck, hard against your throat as he pounds mercilessly, letting his rage out with every movement, his hips bucking against your ass.

“Love when I’m pissed off, huh?” he taunts. “Because you know I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk? Is that why?”

Rafe feels you swallow against his palm.

“Yes,” you whine, your eyes rolling back.

You hear his breaths quicken and feel him twitch inside of you. His hand lowers to rub your clit in tight circles, pushing you into an orgasm you can hardly breathe through.

He cums inside you in hard pulses, a tangled string of fuck’s spilling out of his mouth, his teeth nipping your shoulder.

You realize your skin is sheened with sweat when he pulls out. His hand drags over your pussy, toying with your overstimulation as you work through shallow breaths, lowering your leg now that he’ll allow it.

You breathe out a sigh of satisfaction. Some people would see Rafe’s short temper as a flaw. You don’t think you ever will.

#wrote a very smutty blurb abt this 🤭#and this position is fire i can confirm 👀#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #blurb #rafe cameron blurb

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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago

Text

what if everyone simply wrote blurbs for their favorite manspreading gifs and pics and tagged them #manspreading olympics?

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Always & Forever

poly!mikaelsons x reader (kol, elijah, & rebekah)

summary: a slip of tongue confession leads to a world of trouble between the mikaelsons and the salvatores. but little do any of them know, it's exactly what was needed to promise a perfect future.

tags: smut, love confessions, mild exhibitionism, lingerie, blood drinking, begging, foursome (no incest), praise kink, choking, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, blowjobs, overstimulation, dirty talk, cuddling

word count: 6k

“I think my girlfriend is falling in love with my brother,” Kol says, with a look to each of the Salvatores, “but unlike you two, we’re actually quite capable of sharing women.”

Both scoff, and Stefan rolls his eyes. Damon takes a long sip of bourbon before smirking. “Prove it.”

Three days later, the brothers show up unannounced on the Mikaelsons’ porch, ready to find the proof themselves. Their conversation with Kol didn’t really end; the man just smiled and gave a wink, but didn’t offer any proof to his statement. He left the grill soon after that, too, convincing the Salvatores that he was just a cocky liar. Determined to prove their enemy wrong, they planned a surprise dinner in the other’s own house, specifically choosing a day they know you’ll be there.

It’s a Sunday, and Klaus has been in New Orleans all weekend doing who-knows-what, leaving you alone with the other three siblings. You were originally a loyal friend of Elena’s, until she fell for Damon and you fell for Kol. Ever since then, your friendship has been in shambles and the two of you barely speak. The only reason the brothers were even talking to Kol about you is because you all ran into each other at the grill. You were playing pool with Elijah, while the younger watched from afar. Stefan and Damon approached to pester him about it, only to receive the answer they did.

Now, they were going to prove Kol wrong. They had been through this before with both Katherine and Elena. One woman cannot love both brothers; she will always pick one, and the two will become divided over it. It was only a matter of time for the jealousy to seep through, and neither brother could wait to see it happen.

When they ring the doorbell, it’s Elijah who answers. “What may I help you with, brothers?”

Damon smirks, “we’ve decided to invite ourselves over for dinner. How does that sound?”

“And whatever has given you this idea?”

“Just a talk we had with your little brother the other day. Nothing bad, we promise.”

“Convincing,” he mutters, not at all convinced. “Well, I guess then, come in. I’ll find Kol.”

Kol isn’t hard to find. When Elijah walks into the living room, trailed by the Salvatores, he finds you and your boyfriend curled up together on the couch. Elijah clears his throat, grabbing both of your attentions.

“Oh, look who it is - the less famous brothers,” Kol greets with an attitude. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You don’t say anything, but tense up at the sight of the two. Neither have been pleased with you lately, and their sudden appearance can’t be anything good.

“They have come by for dinner,” Elijah supplies. “Which, luckily enough, should be ready now.”

Just as he predicts, Rebekah comes into the room, hands in oven mitts. “Did I hear the Salvatores are coming over for dinner?” She looks over to them, “oh, and they’re already here. What fun. Y/N, darling, would you please help me carry the dishes to the table?”

You nod quickly, happy to get away from the men.

“You make your sister cook for you?” Damon grunts as you and Bekah disappear.

“No, no, we all take turns. Kol was yesterday. I have tomorrow.”

“But sometimes none of us do and we just sip on blood all night.”

“You feed Y/N blood, too?”

“Well she’s not here every night, unfortunately. But if she is here on a sipping-night, we’ll still make her something,” Kol says sternly, not liking Damon’s tone.

Stefan decides that now is a good time to interrupt. “So what’s Rebekah making?”

“We’ll have to see. Shall we?”

Five minutes later, the six of you are sitting around the table enjoying a steak meal, just red enough to satisfy both vampires and human. The seat you’ve chosen has you between Kol and Rebekah and across from Damon and Stefan, while Elijah, per usual in Klaus’ absence, sits at the head. You can tell he likes sitting there; the head of the table always gives the sitter a feeling of power. Dominance. Like how he dominates the conversation despite Damon’s numerous attempts to try.

“I was just curious about your brother’s whereabouts. What exactly is he doing in New Orleans?”

“It isn’t your place to know about what he’s doing, and frankly, I don’t know every little thing he does either. I’m not his babysitter.”

“But you’ve got to know something.”

“Who am I to tell? It’s not my business, nor yours.”

“So if-”

At this point, the three of you zone out entirely. You have been pestering Kol the whole dinner, but now you’re really starting to bug him, rubbing your foot up and down his leg. The action makes him squirm in his seat, which only encourages you further, and now Rebekah’s giggling at the both of you. In return, Kol lands a hand on your thigh, squeezing it ever so often. You then poke him in the side where you know he’s ticklish.

Little do you know, Rebekah wants to join in, but doesn’t want to cross a line with her brother. Little does she know, you want her to join just as badly.

Meanwhile, the discussion between the others is growing intense. Damon is getting more aggressive; Elijah, more defensive; and Stefan, more anxious.

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he tries, “maybe we should-”

“Klaus goes in and out of Mystic Falls way too often. I like to know where my enemies are, so if he would just stay in one place, that’d be great. He-”

Finally, Stefan cuts his brother off completely. “What I would like to know is if Kol’s words have any truth in them.”

The room silences immediately.

“That’s why we’re here, right, brother?”

Damon stiffens at being interrupted, but then relaxes, a smirk on his face. “Yes, actually.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Elijah cocks his head. “Kol?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh sure you do? What was it? At the bar?”

“We go to the bar fairly often, Damon, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“You don’t remember? Y/N and Elijah were playing pool. You were watching, telling us what was on your heart…”

Kol raises his eyebrows before scoffing. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

“First of all, I wasn’t spilling my heart out to you two dumbasses. There was no heartfelt moment there.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were having a moment.” Damon frowns with a sad puppy dog look. Fake, of course.

“You thought wrong then. I was only sharing an observation.”

“So? Is there any truth in what you said?”

Kol shifts uncomfortably, not liking being on the spot like this.

“Aw, Damon, he’s shy. Let’s give him space.”

“No, hold up,” Kol stops them, “not shy about anything, I just don’t like to put my girl in situations like this.”

At the mention of you, you look up in question.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t talk about ‘your girl’ when she’s not there to hear it.”

By now, Rebekah’s had enough, “whatever are you two daft dimbos on about? Kol would never do anything to hurt her. He loves her. Speaking of which, we all do, so you better not say anything bad.”

“Oh I bet you all do,” Damon smirks again.

“Say what you want and be done with it,” Elijah tenses, “or get out.”

“You want to do the honors?” Damon turns to his brother.

“No, you’re good.”

“Alright.” He stands up as if he were making a speech. “Kol told us that he thinks his girlfriend over here, Miss Y/N, sweet little Y/N, is falling in love with his brother. Then he tried to tell us that you guys are good at ‘sharing women’.” The man laughs, “as someone who’s shared a woman with my brother, that never ends well. One, or all of you, are gonna be real sad when she either picks one and divides you from your family, or leaves you all and never looks back. So I say, pick your poison now, ‘cause it’s gonna happen someday.”

Damon sits back down looking very proud of himself. Kol, on the other hand, looks mortified. You, Bex, and Elijah have no idea what to do with that information. It’s dead quiet for too long.

“Darling,” Kol finally says, “can I talk to you?”

“Of course.”

You leave the table with him, but no one picks up any conversation as you go.

As soon as he gets to the kitchen, he runs the sink water so the vampires in the room over would have a harder time overhearing. He then puts his hands over his face and avoids eye contact with you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant for that to come out the way it did, nor to say it to those two, and I certainly didn’t expect for them to reiterate it straight back at you. I can’t believe I could be so stupid. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me for it. I-”

“Kol,” you call him for the fourth time during his rant. This time, though, you take his hands and make him look at you. “You’re not stupid.” He finally looks at you, but doesn’t reply. “And I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I subjected you to their vile jokes. Made you look like a groupie or something to my family.”

You have to stop for a second and giggle. Of course, he’s immediately confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“Did you just use the term, ‘groupie’? That’s so seventies, Kol.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, no, I’m just- I’m sorry. It was just funny to me.”

“What word was I supposed to use?”

You laugh again, “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I shouldn’t have used any word, because you’re not that, but I made you look like that to those bloody idiots.”

“Kol, it’s okay. I’m not upset with you. With them, yes, for doing that in front of everyone. But only for your sake, not my own. And besides, I can live with being an original groupie.”

He nods, hearing you’re not upset, but then narrows his eyes. “Wait…”

You swallow hard. “It’s not entirely wrong. I don’t like admitting it, but I’d be lying if I said there was nothing there.” You pause, giving him time to react. He only nods for you to continue. “I know Elijah’s liked me to some extent ever since we started dating. At first, I brushed it off, but the more I’m around you all, the more I find myself starting to like it.”

Not sure how to answer the latter, he starts with the first. “To some extent? Darling, he’s in love with you.”

You half smile, “I know.”

“But?”

“I don’t know how to say this, Kol. It’s weird.”

In one fell swoop, he picks you up and sits you on the bare counter. He stands to be in between your legs, then cups your face with his hands. “It’s alright, Y/N. Tell me.”

“I love you. There’s no doubt about it. I would die for you.”

His heart races. Sure, he’s heard those words a thousand times, but each time, his heart acts the same way. “I love you, too, darling. Nothing you could say would make me love you less.”

“Good, because I don’t want to lose you. I want to love you for eternity. But… you’re right.” You take a deep breath. “I’m also falling for your brother.”

Kol doesn’t seem fazed by this. If anything, he seems relieved.

“Are you okay?”

“I was afraid you were going to say you wanted him instead.”

Your eyes go wide, “no! Baby, no way. But… if it’s something you’re okay with, I wouldn’t mind being an original groupie.”

He laughs at your choice of words. “That is certainly something I am okay with. You can love whomever you like. I’m just glad you still love me, too.”

“I will always love you, Kol.”

He kisses you deeply, bringing a hand to your back to steady you. “And I love you. And like I said, I am willing to share my girl if it makes her happy. Plus, I trust my brother to keep you and your heart safe.”

You smile, then bite your lip.

“What is it?”

“One more question.”

“Hm?”

“Do you trust your sister, too?”

“You’re in love with Bex, too?”

You can only shrug. A blush rises to your cheeks.

He shakes his head playfully. “Of course I trust my sister. Let’s say this: I trust my family with my girl and her heart.”

“Sounds good,” you peck his lips, then his nose.

“Soooo… do you want to go back out and prove to Damon and Stefan that my family can both share and protect women better than they can?”

“Certainly,” you pop off the counter with Kol’s hands on your waist. “And I can’t wait to see the look on Bex’s and ‘Lijah’s faces when I kiss them unexpectedly.”

You little troublemaker,” he grins as he turns off the faucet, “you fit into this family perfectly.”

◇◇◇◇

A chat about the weather is the only conversation happening when you re-enter the dining room. A big sigh of relief comes from everyone when they see you.

“I hope you’re willing to pay the water bill next month, Kol, because that was a long time to have it running.”

“Relax, brother. Y/N and I were just having a little chat.”

“Oh really?” Damon smirks, “did she slap you for what you said about her? Because that would be well deserved.”

“On the contrary, Damon,” you say, returning to your chair. Kol sits in his, though you only stand behind yours. “It actually gave us time to talk about some things that probably wouldn’t have been brought up otherwise.” As you talk, you make your way to Elijah’s side, putting your hands on his shoulders.

“Ah, and what would that be, Miss Y/N?”

You grin, “why talk about it when I can show you?” Before Damon can answer, you trail your fingers along the man’s face to his chin, feeling the stubble along his jaw. The group sees your eyes roll back in your head, then they watch you move to stand in front of him. “Hi,” you say, blushing mad.

He mouths, ‘what are you doing?’

You’re too giddy to answer; it’d probably come out in a stutter. So, you only smile instead. Then, bending slightly, you lean forward, grabbing and pulling on his tie in the process, and kiss him passionately. His body goes limp immediately, satiated by your kiss after wanting it for so long. The fact that you have him by his tie, dominating him just a bit, doesn’t help his case. Your other hand rises back to his jaw, holding him in place. After a second, the reality of the matter kicks in and he kisses back, bringing his own hands up to your face gently.

Seated directly behind you are Kol and Bex, half of their attention on the scene, and half on the lingerie peeking out from under your skirt. Kol knows damn well you did that on purpose, and he feels himself getting hard at the thought. As for Rebekah, she’s conflicted. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to feel the warmth in her core that you’re making her feel, or if she’s allowed to steal a glance at the black garter adorning your thighs. She tries to poke her brother to ask, but every time she moves her finger, one of the Salvatores glance over to see the younger two’s reaction.

After about a minute, you let go of Elijah and lick your lips. You then stand up and smirk at the brothers. “What would that be, you ask? Well, it gave me a chance to tell my loving boyfriend,” you’ve made your way back to Kol now. Once you’re behind him, you turn his head toward you with a finger on his chin, then kiss him with the same intensity. “That, not only do I love him, but also that I’m falling in love with his brother, as he suspected.” Then you grin again, “but what he didn’t know, but also just learned, is that I’m also falling in love with his sister, too.” After confessing, you bend over to kiss Rebekah as you did Elijah, with your lace set partially on display for the man. His eyes catch it instantly and become locked on you. Meanwhile, Kol, in touching distance, grabs onto your thigh. His hand almost disappears under your skirt completely. The sudden feeling makes you moan into Rebekah’s mouth, causing her to grab the back of your neck and kiss you harder.

Eventually, a cough from Stefan pulls you out of the make-out session. You stop and take your seat back, though Kol’s hand doesn’t leave your body.

“Wow,” he comments with nothing else to say.

Damon, of course, has a reply. “Since you’re sharing, you can give us a kiss, too,” he mocks.

“Nu uh,” you wiggle a finger, “I’m reserved for Mikaelsons only. Plus, I don’t think your girlfriend would like that too much.”

He rolls his eyes. “Only playing.”

“So,” Stefan starts, rather awkwardly. “Dinner was great, Rebekah. Was I wrong to assume you’d be serving dessert tonight, too?”

“Not entirely,” she stands, “I did make one for us. Though it seems you’ll be the only ones eating it, for I already had mine just now.”

She’s on her way to the kitchen when you chuckle, “there’s no way that filled you up, Bex. That was just an appetizer. Trust me, dessert’s way better.” You give her a wink.

The girl’s knees nearly give out. “Is it now?”

You’re about to answer when a squeak leaves your lips instead. Kol’s moved his hand from your thigh to having a finger on your clit. He puts the lightest bit of pressure on it, then says, “she’s right, sister. Dessert’s much better.”

Rebekah goes completely red and hurries to the kitchen to hide her face. Elijah, on the other hand, swallows hard. He’s not sure how he feels about doing something like this with the Salvatore brothers watching. He knows that Kol is, and always has been, rather wild, but this? And if he’s going to be allowed to touch and pleasure you for the first time, he doesn’t want them there. Nor should they be so honored to see your body unclothed; that should be a sight only for those chosen by you.

Elijah’s tempted to pull Kol aside and bring up these concerns, but that would require leaving you alone with the Salvatores. That is something he’d much rather not do. Luckily, Rebekah comes back just in time.

“For you two, who don’t get to share the beautiful Y/N,” she smirks. “Please, feel free to take it home with you so we can get on with private business here.”

Elijah relaxes at her words, but then stiffens again at Damon’s.

“Oh no, we were promised that you could maintain a four way relationship and not fight. We are going to see this through.”

“That was never included, Damon,” Kol snaps, “all you were promised was that we could, not that you could see it. All you’re allowed to see of my girl is what she allows you to see.”

“Your girl?”

“Don’t push it. You’ve already pushed it by welcoming yourselves here anyway. And yes, she is my girl. Just because she shares her love doesn’t mean she’s not still my girl.”

“How do you feel about that?” The man nods to you. “A family of vampires sharing you?”

You giggle as Kol pulls you into his lap. “I don’t know if this has escaped you, Damon, but I gave in before either of these two did. I love them all as much as they do me.”

“Until you fall more in love with one and break the rest of their hearts.”

“I am not Katherine. I’m fully capable of loving them without hurting them. Just you see,” you challenge, a glint in your eyes.

The brothers look to Elijah, knowing he’s been through the ringer with Katherine as well. To their dismay, he’s smiling. “The girl is right. She isn’t Katherine. She has a similar fire, yet is much more kind. Maybe if you two had been so lucky to stumble upon her first, you’d learn that not all women are like Katherine.” Before Damon can argue, he continues, “fortunately for us, and rather unfortunately for you, she’s ours.”

Stefan’s about to comment, but then he sees you smirking. The glint in your eyes, still apparent, and sharp like a dagger, as if daring him to try to convince you otherwise. At that moment, he decides it’s not even worth it to try. He turns towards his brother. “Well. Guess we have to let them figure it out on their own.”

“Guess so.”

Not long after that, the Salvatores are finally out the door, Rebekah’s pies in hand. Damon makes it very clear that if he isn’t allowed to see the action, that he is certainly taking the dessert he is allowed to have. And, he isn’t going to make any effort in returning Rebekah’s pans, either.

“Whatever, don’t care about the pans, go away,” you say, pushing them out the door. “Bye now!” You lock it the minute they’re out. Then, you turn around to face the three vampires looking at you. “Hi.”

“Hello, darling. Quite a pickle you’ve found yourself in,” Kol smiles at you.

Rebekah takes a step towards you. “Are you sure you can handle all three of us, love? It is a lot to handle.” She seems more like she’s challenging you into submission rather than actually asking you the question. You’ve proven you want all of them, now it’s just a matter of seeing if you can catch up.

Your answer is on the tip of your tongue - an equally sassy reply that will tell her everything she needs to know. But then Elijah approaches you with a comment before you can say it.

“Maybe we should talk about this first. Y/N-”

“Oh, enough talking,” you walk over to him, “haven’t we been talking all night?”

His lips curl into a smile, “guess we have. Is this really what you want?”

“Yes, ‘Lijah.”

“Then you shall have it.”

You give three seconds. Three seconds to search his eyes for any hesitation. Three seconds for anyone to speak up with a counter. Nothing. Not a second after is wasted as you rise to your toes to kiss him again. He kisses back deeply, tapping your waist for you to jump. He holds you in place with strong arms, fighting everything to not push you up against the wall. He knows if he does, his siblings will protest.

The protest comes anyway.

“Elijah, you’re stealing the girl,” Rebekah whines.

With a sigh, he speeds you over to the nearest room and sets you down on the bed. As he catches his breath from the adrenaline, Rebekah wastes no time rushing to you and peppering you in kisses. Kol’s not far behind, laying you down the minute Bex comes up for air. Your head rests in his lap while he plays with your hair. Elijah quickly comes back into play, feeling the fabric that is the only thing separating them from seeing you wholly. You make eye contact and nod to him, and instantly, your clothes are torn from your body.

“Gorgeous,” you hear him mutter, running his hands from your stomach down your legs.

“Say,” Kol snickers, “what about this lingerie, darling? Was that on purpose?”

You bite your lip, “knew I’d get you by the end of the night. Didn’t think this would happen.” You nestle your head into him, “but I’m not complaining.”

He grins, “was a lovely surprise to a boring dinner.”

“I’ll second that,” Rebekah bounces her eyebrows at you, making you giggle.

“Kol,” Elijah calls to his brother.

You and the boy look up.

“Switch places. She’s been with you, knows you best. For her first time with all three of us, let’s give her something familiar.”

The boy nods, and you’re secretly thankful for the man’s suggestion. As much as you’re loving this, it’s all very new, and something familiar is greatly appreciated.

“Thank you,” you mutter to Elijah as he takes Kol’s spot in supporting your head.

“Of course, baby. I love you.”

You smile, “I know. I love you, too.”

“You know? How, may I ask?”

“I’ve known since the minute I met you.”

His eyes soften from shock as everything sinks in. You knew he loved you, yet you were dating his brother. But now, they both have you, and Bex, too. Bex, who, at the moment, is giving you a hickey on the neck.

Elijah realizes this and immediately chides, “don’t bite her, Rebekah.”

“Relax, it’s only a hickey. People do it all the time.”

You giggle, “it’s true, ‘Lijah. But I don’t mind if you bite. Kol’s fed from me.”

“He has?” The girl stops her ministrations to read your face.

“Mhm. I trust him, and eventually, he started to trust himself.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” She jokes.

“I’m right here, Bekah.”

“You’ve fed from her?” She asks again, still shocked.

“Show her, Kol,” you smile up at him. During the last minute of your conversation with the two, he’s been teasing your entrance with his cock, making sure you’re wet enough to fit comfortably.

He bites his lip, debating it, but can’t say no to your face. “Alright, darling. Count of three.” He lines himself up, then covers your body with his own, positioning his teeth right at your neck. “3… 2… 1.” At one, he sinks his teeth in and pushes his cock into your heat at the same time. Your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure as he begins to rock inside you, finding a pace. Kol only drinks for a few seconds before detaching, because he knows Bex will want to try too, if you’ll let her.

“Not long enough, baby,” you say immediately.

“Give Bekah a try,” he nods to his sister, sitting back up.

Rebekah’s still in shock at her brother’s self control, but snaps out of it when you give her the ‘okay’.

“‘Lijah, you too.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“I need it,” you beg.

“She’ll beg you all night,” Kol warns. “Better to give in than deny what you know you both want.”

The argument is convincing. Elijah gives in, taking your wrist. At the same time, he and Bex bite down - her at the other side of your neck - and begin to drink. Kol slows his pace as they do, taking a minute to look into your eyes. I love you, he mouths. You mouth it back.

Seconds later, they come off, too. Elijah wastes no time bringing his own blood to your lips, healing your wounds completely.

“Thank you,” you smile at him.

“Mhm, thank you, girl,” Rebekah interrupts, “you’re bloody amazing.”

Elijah returns your smile, nodding to you.

As soon as you meet his eyes, Kol picks up his pace again until he finds the one you usually like. Though Bex beats him to rubbing your clit, so he uses both hands to hold onto your waist instead. Elijah takes to kissing you hungrily, his hands digging into your scalp. You’re so overstimulated with pleasure, yet it feels so good.

After a bit of this, you start to pant, running out of breath.

“What do you like, baby?” Elijah asks, not wanting to tire you out with kisses.

“Play with her boobs,” Kol suggests, “makes her crazy.”

“Does it now?”

“She’s cum just by me sucking on them at times.”

“Kol!” You whine.

“Don’t get shy now, darling! Little late for that, don’t you think?”

You shut your mouth tight as the three smirk at you. Elijah then repositions his body to sit more to your side, giving him better access to your chest. He makes sure to put a pillow under your head where he had been sitting, then wastes no time playing with your tits, holding, cupping, and squeezing them. The feeling is so good it makes you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Darling,” Kol mutters, swiping your lip and putting his finger in his mouth, “don’t hold back your pretty little sounds from them. Let them hear what I get to hear from you.” As soon as he says that, he pounds into you hard without warning. You cry out in a strangled moan before you can stop yourself. “Just like that, yes,” he praises. “Good girl.”

Bex immediately picks up on how you react to Kol’s praise and tries it for herself. “Hey, girlie, can you do that for me, pretty please?” She puts more pressure on your clit, touching you exactly how you like.

“Awh,” you moan, “like that, keep doing that. Feels so good, Bex. I- I’m close.”

Meanwhile, Elijah’s transitioned from using hands to using his mouth to stimulate your breasts. He tugs on a nipple with his teeth while pulling the other between his fingertips.

“Fuck, ‘Lijah. Shit. I- I-” whatever you were going to say is cut off by another moan. This spurs the man on, Bex too, and they continue at their paces.

You then turn your attention to Kol. “Right- right there. Perfect. Close. I’m close. Kol?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Cum with me, okay? Please, please, please.” You know begging will do it instantly. Another thing that will make you both cum fast- “and here,” you point to your neck. “Please.”

“Which one?”

“Pick.”

“You pick this time.”

“Kol, I can’t.”

“Can I put them up to the challenge?”

You nod ferociously, desperate for anything.

“Choke or bite, she wants.”

The siblings go still. Neither feel good about choking you, and they’ve already fed.

“Kol, please,” you beg again, “I’m so close.”

“Okay, darling.” He thrusts deeper to crawl back across your body, then holds you in place by the neck as you get closer to your high. In the midst, Bex continues her pleasure on you, while Elijah keeps at his. Then, mere seconds later, you cum hard. A string of curse words that ends as a moan falls out of your mouth. Black spots cloud your vision, due to Kol’s hands on your neck, or the overstimulation, or both, you’re not sure, but you love it. You whine all the way through your orgasm, legs shaking and heart beating rapidly. Shortly after you, Kol cums too, and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto your body. After the two of you ride out your highs, everyone begins to ease up in their pleasuring.

“Not done,” you pant, out of breath still. You crawl up a little ways on the bed to lean against the headboard and its numerous pillows.

“What do you mean, ‘not done’? Girl, I’d think you’d be tired,” Bex says, incredulous.

You answer her by slipping your hand into her pants, feeling for her heat, and inserting a finger. You then unzip her jeans for better access, making her melt instantly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whines. When you curl your fingers, she moans louder.

Once you have her where you want her, you move your other hand to the man beside you, rubbing his hard-on through his suit pants. “‘Lijah, come here.”

“You don’t have to pleasure me, baby, I’m alright.”

“Again,” Kol interrupts, “she’ll beg you all night if you don’t let her.”

You smirk up at Elijah, proving Kol’s words true. The man tries to fight it, but desire takes over him. He’s slow to pull himself out, still a bit unsure. You gesture him closer and closer until you’re able to pleasure both him and Bex at the same time.

“I’d rather you straddle my head, ‘Lijah, so I can get you wet, and more comfortable,” you say in between breaths. The man goes red in the face. Never have you ever seen Elijah embarrassed. Neither, apparently, have his siblings.

Bex grins, “brother! You’ve gone shy to Y/N’s dirty talk! I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it.”

You giggle, the girl egging you on now, “I promise it would be much better. Come on.”

Again, he hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You smile as he moves in front of you, not exactly straddling you, but comes at least close enough that you can take him in your mouth. Immediately, you circle your tongue over his tip, sucking slightly in certain places. He lets out a breathy moan which makes you crave him more. Soon, you find a vein on his underside that is especially sensitive, so you tease him by dragging your tongue along it, before finally taking him in full once he’s wet enough.

When you find your pace with Elijah, you refocus your attention back to Rebekah, continuing the curling of your fingers, but also stimulating her clit. You’d love to put your tongue on her, too, but in its absence, you move your fingers inside her instead. Wetness drips from her, pooling onto the bed. Hers, thankfully. She rocks her hips against your hand, holding onto your hip for support. Little whines leave her lips, one after another.

Meanwhile, Kol’s attention is on your clit, driving you to overstimulation yet again. He flicks his tongue against it while keeping two fingers buried inside you. It’s only a matter of time before you all explode from the intense pleasure. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d probably place a bet on it.

Not two minutes later do the second round of orgasms come, and they do in quite a domino effect. Kol blows cool air on your clit and immediately, it sends you into pleasure. You start shaking again, well beyond satiated. Bex is then triggered by your orgasm, having her own not a second after, and having it be just as intense. Her mess is made bigger, cum obvious on the sheets, and she can’t help but giggle. Bex giggling causes the same reaction out of you, to which Elijah’s final stimulation is the vibration from your mouth, and he has his own orgasm. He tries to pull out, but a shared look of eye contact comforts him, knowing you’re okay with it. Once you’ve swallowed it, you loosen your suction from his cock and allow him to pull out completely. He can’t help but to kiss you when you open your mouth to prove it’s all gone.

As soon as you all come down from your highs, one-by-one you collapse on the bed, exhausted. Bex and Elijah are on your sides, while Kol’s between your legs, his head on your chest.

“That was,” Elijah pauses, catching his breath.

“Perfect,” Rebekah finishes for him.

“Quite the girl she is,” Kol says, kissing your tits.

“Need to take care of her back,” Elijah tries to get up.

You hold him down, though, “no, no, stay with me. We do that later. Cuddle for now.”

“Y/N-”

“No, we cuddle for now. I need that more.”

“Okay, baby. We’ve got you.” He settles back down into your side, letting out a long, peaceful sigh.

A second later, a camera snaps.

“Who’s that?” Everyone peers an eye open, except for the one who’s guilty.

“Whoops, sorry.” Kol smirks, “going to send Damon proof that not only are we capable of sharing, but also, that we have the best bloody girlfriend in the world.”

“You’re such a little shit,” you ruffle his hair because he’s too out of reach to kiss. “But I love you. I love all of you.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

“Me too,” Bex yawns.

“We will love you, Y/N, always and forever.”

And you all did love each other, always and forever.

#poly!mikaelsons #poly!mikaelsons x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #tvd fanfiction #i'm not crazy about the summary #but i can promise you it's smutty

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