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drefear · 9 months

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‘Nasty’ By Russ

Summary: Miguel finds something out about you through your recent music choices.

TW: praise, jealousy, smut, praise p in v fantasy, masturbation

You and Miguel started dating fairly recently, and he was so happy about it. He told Jess by accident while discussing you beating up an anomaly, and he just laughed and said ‘I knew it.’

His heart explodes when you’re around and can’t help but see stars.

You’re sitting with Jess and Gwen when he is about to ask you about a report you filed when he hears a conversation he was not prepared for.

“I never even knew he existed.” Gwen said to you, making you laugh.

“Oh, she loves him. It’s almost obsessive.” Jess emphasizes and you blush, rolling your eyes.

“I just- I like- it’s like-“ you stutter and Gwen nods.

“I get it, he’s kinda hot and he’s obviously got some skills, so imagining what he could actually do in bed is totally fair.” That was it, Jess’s words made Miguel’s blood boil. Who else were you trying to sleep with?

His eyes perked up as he walked away and passed you to his office area. You two weren’t in a committed relationship, he had no claim over who you thought about or saw when you weren’t with him, yet it made his blood boil and tension appear between his shoulder blades. He’d long forgotten about the question he was going to ask you about as he summoned you to where he was.

You two were mature adults, you could discuss your feelings without being childish and assuming the worst. Plus, Miguel technically already knew the answer to the question, or so he thought.

You walked up with a bounce before seeing the stress between his eyebrows and frowning gently, something he disliked on that beautiful face of yours. “What’s wrong?” You spoke softly and placed a hand on his arm.

“I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but I just need to know the truth.” He prefaced and you felt a knot of anxiety form in your gut. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He searched his eyes over your features and found nothing to give away your thoughts until a bright smile formed on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “This isn’t funny.” He huffed like a petulant child, which made you giggle more.

“Miguel O’Hara, are you jealous?” You teased and poked his bicep, making his nose twitch in self awareness which turned into embarrassment. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. Who could compare to you?” You smiled wider and slid your hand up his arm to his shoulder, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. His hand fell to your hip and he sighed happily at your touch, but confusion was still evident in his expression. He hummed and you smirked, “Are you? Because if so, I’ll fight her for ya.” You teased and he let out an exasperated chuckle.

“No, not at all. I’m all yours, now dame un besita.” He demanded and you obliged, giving him a soft and sensual kiss.

Letting go of him, you walked towards the door, “How about we hang out tonight? Stay in and order tacos?” You mused and he nodded, sitting back and sighing. You still felt like something was wrong, but you’d discuss that later when you two were alone and could focus without the hovering threat of work surrounding you.

Once you were gone, Miguel instructed Lyla to dig into you and find any other man you could be seeing. Once your glow faded from his presence, the idea hit him hard like a punch to the chest. You’d just lied to him, to his face, and with a smile.

Never once while dating you had he gotten the impression that you were a liar. Actually, he’d found that sometimes you were too honest, so this was more than shocking to him.

He was so focused on some of the videos Lyla had been finding that he didn’t even hear Jess approach from behind him and start asking questions.

“Earth to O’Hara!” Her hand waved in front of his hand and he snapped his eyes to her, relaxing once he realized who it was. “What’s got you so zoned out?” She peaked over his shoulders to see the videos of you being flirted with in a coffee shop, then sighing in disappointment. “Stalking? Really?”

“She lied to me.” He deadpanned and swiped to another video, frustration setting on his lips.

“About what?” Jess inquired in surprise and he glared at the pregnant woman to his side.

“You already know, don’t play dumb.” He hissed, then gained a cold glare from Jessica, “I heard you talking with her and Gwen about another guy in the cafeteria earlier.”

“Another guy?” Jess gapped and then doubled over, laughing so hard she felt tears forming. “You are so stupid sometimes!” She choked out.

“Que?” He flashed an angry expression, bewildered at her name calling.

“That wasn’t about a guy she met, it was about some singer she was listening to. He released a song in her universe and she’s all hot from the lyrics.” She explained, smiling still. “You were worried about her fucking around with some other dude? No, she was talking about how she was imagining you.” She waved her hand and turned to leave, “It’s called Nasty by Ross, by the way. Give it a listen, if you want to know what she likes.” She let out a few more laughs before shutting the door behind her, leaving Miguel speechless.

His hands flew to his keyboard without a second to spare and he lowered the speakers. What did she mean by hot?

As the chorus rang out quietly, he realized what she meant.

Oh.

His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as the words made his imagination come to life.

“Show me where you wanna take it

Grab the headboard, hold on tight

I think we 'bout to break it”

His eyes widened as he felt himself twitch against his suit, the technologically woven fabric straining against his half hard erection.

You liked this…?

He had touched himself to the thought of you before, but he never imagined if you’d been into anything specific. You came off as a girl who liked things simple, and for lack of a better word, vanilla. He thought you’d prefer missionary and soft “oh god” moans, nothing too drastic. Something he’d feared was scaring you away with his fantasies of biting you and drilling into you hard on his kitchen counter, or fucking you over his balcony.

So this was a very welcomed change.

His head ran wild with the ideas of what you’d want him to do. Listening to how this singer directed the song, it seemed like you wanted someone dominant with a gentle touch, you wanted to hear how good you could make him feel, you wanted him to give you a display of his strength while still keeping a calm head and fucking you until you fell apart on him. Soft, but firm.

He couldn’t help but inwardly break a bit to the visualization that formed behind his eyes, your delicate fingers toying with your clit as he watched, face creased as your nose scrunched from the tension you’d started in yourself, grinding into your cute little hands as his slowly guided his hand up and down the shaft of his dick.

He’d bend down just to flick his tongue against you. Just once. Just a tease, a taste, a smell.

God, how he wanted to smell that pussy. To inhale your scent until he was completely overwhelmed and covered by it, then moving to shove his tongue into your aching core and retracting it.

He wanted to watch you clench and grip around nothing, your body practically calling out to him without making a sound.

Miguel wanted to shove his tongue so deep inside you that you’d think it had a mind of its own.

His hand reached out to his desk as he sat down in a chair he almost never even used, letting the blue around his groin dissipate and freeing his cock as it slapped against his abdomen. His fingers pressed a few buttons to close his doors and have his watch on ‘do not disturb mode.’

“She said, "Spank me, that's the only way I learn"

I said, "Okay, good girl, good girl"

His tongue licked his lips as he thought of you from behind, face in his pillows as he caressed his hands up your ass, then planted a smack against your smooth skin. He’d watch the muscle jiggle and redden from the impact of his slap, admiring the soft mewls you’d make for him. Words fell from his mouth like dripping honey.

“That’s it, good girl, buena niña,” He mumbled and let out a relaxed sigh.

“I know everyone wants a pretty girl like you

You look so good when you put me inside you

Listen

There ain't nothin' like that moan when the tip's in

Good God

Look at you, you're doin' such a good job”

The song painted a vivid picture for him about how you wanted him to treat you, to love you. He inhaled sharply as he saw the image of your ass in the air, pussy fully exposed for him as he nestled the head of his cock against your folds and rubbed against you a few times, gathering your sticky mess to soak him before pushing in just the tip. The hiss he let out when he saw this in his head was almost pornographic, groaning as he rutted into the fist he didn’t know that he wrapped around his cock. More aware now, he spit into his palm and continued rubbing himself as he completely indulged. His mind continued its dreams of you, gripping his headboard as he pushed into you and bent down so your back was completely pressed to his chest, his lips kissing the underside of your jaw and whispering in your ear, whispers he didn’t know he was speaking out loud.

“Taking my cock so good, mi amor, such a perfect cunt for me to sink into, like a champ.” He growled and felt his lips twitch, so close to cumming at the idea of you pushing backwards and wanting to take more of him.

“Girl you're mine now, you were made for me

Cum for me baby, you don't gotta wait for me,”

Miguel’s fangs dug into his bottom lip as he tried to muffle his loud animalistic sounds, thinking about you so asking and tightening around his cock, fucking your through your orgasm as he watched a creamy ring form around his dick. The vision made his saliva pool on his tongue and he swallowed it, along with his words.

“Te ves tan hermosa así, solo para mí.” He grunted in Spanish and felt the tension growing in his dick, his orgasm briefly blinding him as ropes of cum shot from his cock, more than usual as he heaved in heavy pants.

You were so fucking beautiful and as he opened his eyes again, his spent still dripping down his own abdomen, his sight caught the current video feed of you.

You, hiding in a corner as you listened with your ear pressed against his office wall and your hand in your suit as you touched yourself.

“No fucking way.” He whispered to himself, catching his breath once more. Miguel looked around and had an idea. Poking his watch a bit, he called you.

“Y-yes?” Your voice was shaky, which he smiled at darkly.

“I need you to bring me some towels. I had a spill in my office.” He spoke, leaning back and watching the cameras ss your body shook and he could hear you gasping through your receiver.

“Be there soon…” you whimpered and he just laughed.

“Just get here quick, so I can replace that hand in your pants with my face, ok pretty girl?” His voice dropped and you let out a moan.

“Y-yes…!” You nodded frantically and swung to get what he needed, making him smile as he leaned back once more in his chair.

Part 2

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst

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xinthesewallsx · 2 years

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mass tag drop pt 2

(musings ||

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charliemwrites · 2 months

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A little request from the discord server about Castle “Daddy” Alistair and No Nut November.

CW: free use spice; everything is enthusiastically consensual and part of an established dynamic.

It’s all Keegan’s fault.

Looking back on all the devastation, every fault line to this disaster can be traced back to Keegan fucking Russ and his stupid cocky mouth.

It started like this: the team was playing cards and sharing drinks, the dinner Nova prepared long since enjoyed. They were discussing silly internet trends and challenges, trying to explain to an unimpressed Nikto what the point of it all was.

Castle was listening with mild amusement, shaking his head at the nonsense of it all. The fact that these arbitrary tasks were considered difficult was a mystery to him and he said so. Then Keegan tapped his finger on the table, a glint in his eye.

“Ya know… November is coming up…” he mused.

“What about it?” Castle asked.

Nova to perked up, eyebrows arched. No way would Keegan actually suggest—

“There’s this one challenge I think you’d struggle with Cap. It happens that month.”

Castle snorted softly, tossed a couple cards down. Let the moment draw out just to fuck with his partner, even though they all knew he’d humor him in the end.

“Yeah? What is it?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“It’s called No Nut November. Pretty much what it says on the tin. You don’t cum for the whole month,” Keegan explained. He sat back and crossed his arms, looking smug. “Tell me you wouldn’t fold, Cap.”

Castle leveled him a steady, smoldering look. “I wouldn’t fold.”

Nova shifted, face flushing when Castle focused on her, eyebrows arched in silent invitation. She debated all of three seconds before throwing caution to the wind; Keegan could use a bit of backup against a man so formidable. And besides, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what would happen.

“I’m not saying you couldn’t,” she mused, “I’m just saying that given your usual libido, I don’t think it would be a walk in the park.”

He snorted, seeing right through her half-hearted attempt at diplomacy. “Is that right? And what do you think, Nikto?”

A pause as he considered, then spoke low and measured. “The sergeants are getting too cocky.”

Castle smirked. “I agree.”

A week into the “challenge” Keegan had nearly forgotten. The team was busy, not much opportunity for more than cuddles and stolen kisses.

Two weeks in and he was enjoying himself immensely. Teasing Castle with wandering hands, climbing under his desk and getting him right to the edge, only to be stopped by a firm hand in his hair and a low warning that he wasn’t as sly as he thought. It wasn’t like Keegan (or anyone else on the team) was taking on the challenge. They were getting to indulge themselves as often as time and energy would allow - usually with their Daddy right there, talking them through it, organizing them as efficiently as he would in the field. Taking care of them with his mouth and hands to stave off some of his own frustration.

But week three… week three he started to worry. It wasn’t that Castle was struggling. It wasn’t that he was snappish or pent up or frustrated. It was that he seemed perfectly fine. A quick adjustment of his pants here or there, idly stroking himself while he watched his partners together. But he was like fucking iron for himself, and Keegan’s normal admiration was taking on a frightened edge.

And then week four began the silent, unknown countdown. Keegan felt it on the back of his neck like a sniper scope. A little, private smirk on his captain’s face, or a slightly rougher than usual sigh. An unusual flex in his jaw or twitch in his steady hands.

On November 30th, the team was lounging in their private rec room, idly watching a tv show together. Nikto was curled up with Nova in one of the big arm chairs, her head settled on his shoulder. Keegan and Castle were sharing the couch, the latter with an arm thrown over the back around his sergeant’s shoulders.

Halfway through, he glanced casually at his watch. Stood up to take his empty glass to the sink. Sidled back around to his spot.

Then snatched Keegan by the shirt and threw him to the ground.

“What the—”

His sweats were yanked down to midthigh, but his underwear didn’t survive, split right down the seam by brutal hands.

“Did you have fun?” Castle asked, dangerously low and even.

Keegan started to push himself up, but a big hand on the back of his neck stopped him. And then a heavy body followed, pinning him prone to the floor. He shuddered as he felt the thick, hot, rocking fucking hard cock sliding between his asscheeks.

“S-sir…“

A thrust hard enough to rock his entire body, dragging his quickly-filling dick across the carpet. He choked out a noise as reality began to set in. Christ, he almost wished that didn’t feel so good.

“Daddy, I—”

“Asked you a question, didn’t I?” Castle rumbled, voice deceptively casual. “Did you have fun?”

Keegan shuddered, any defiance or self-preservation draining when he felt the pierced head of his daddy’s cock catching at his rim. His well-stretched, well-used, still-wet rim. Because Castle had spent an hour before dinner getting him off on his thick fingers.

“Yeah…”

“What was that? A bit louder, kid.”

“Yes, Daddy, I had fun.”

Castle chuckled, so deep and low and rough that Keegan could feel it in his own chest, all the way down into the pit of squirming stomach.

“Good,” he cooed, “I hope it was worth it. Because now it’s my turn.”

Keegan was a stupid, drooling mess when midnight struck. Stuffed full of his captain’s cock and shuddering on oversensitivity. Would forever deny the high-pitched whine that escaped when he felt the absolute flood of cum being fucked into him. There was so much, it leaked out around Castle’s still-hard cock and dripped down Keegan’s reddened thighs.

“Happy December 1st,” Castle chuckled, pulling out.

Keegan shuddered as he stood, could hear the audibly pop as he cracked his neck.

“Nikto, take care of Keegan. I’m not done with him yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

A heavy, tense pause.

“You know what’s next, don’t you, babygirl?”

“Daddy, I’m not the one that—”

“If you run, I’m fucking you wherever I catch you,” he warned, taking a languid step towards her.

Nikto silently slipped out of the way to kneel down by a dazed Keegan. Nova despaired. “So make your next choice very carefully.”

He had them both twice over that night, leaving them whimpering and sobbing in his bed. They only got a break when Nikto took one for the team, kneeling down to suck Castle off so his partners could get a rest.

The next ten days were a lustful sort of hell. At any moment, without warning, Castle would grab a teammate and press them against the nearest surface - his desk, a wall, a chair, even the counter at gun range - and pound the daylights out of them. Sometimes even going out of his way to sneak up, appearing like a shadow and dragging one of them into a supply closet to ruin them.

On a normal routine, Castle had an almost improbable level of stamina and lust. But after a month without getting off, with satisfying himself on his partners’ pleasure and indulging their teasing? He was utterly insatiable. Keegan made a comment about him being so horny that Castle would override biology and get him pregnant. One day, he’d learn to keep the thoughts inside. Blame it on his brain being ruined by astronomical levels of cock.

The compensation fucking finally began to taper off halfway into December, Castle seeming to level out back to his normal libido. Still high, but not anytime-anywhere-anyone levels anymore. He did chuckle at his jumpy teammates in the aftermath though, watching their pupils blow out whenever he looked at them a certain way.

The next time they played cards (everyone but Castle sitting gingerly in their chairs) he smirked at Keegan around his beer bottle.

“So, you wanna try your luck next year?”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #cod oc #my oc #castle ‘daddy’ alistair #captain daddy #keegan p russ #nova cod #cod nikto

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sweetsirenscribbles · 3 months

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NSFW Keegan Blurb

Keegan Russ x Reader

A/N: This is my first time posting something and it's not been proofread. Sorry if there's any mistakes.

Minors do not interact!

Warnings: Smut, Cockwarming, No use of Y/N, No description of reader, Slight degradation, Needy reader. Idk, that's all I could think of.

You could feel a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Sharp blue eyes home in on the movement. “Keegan,” you mewl as his hands flex around your hips. Your body is flushed with heat as you sit naked in his lap, cock nestled snug inside of you. He clicks his tongue raising his eyebrow at you. “I thought you said you’d be good for me baby.” His voice rumbles lowly. You begin grinding your hips down into his. “I know.” The words tumble out of your lips breathlessly. “You just feel so good inside me.” You whimper not bothering to stop the movement of your hips. The promise of just wanting to warm his cock long forgotten. You feel him twitch inside of you. “Fuck.” Keegan groans, letting his eyes close for a moment. His hands begin guiding your hips up and down. When he opens his eyes to look at you, his pupils are dilated leaving a thin halo of blue barely visible. “You’re such a needy fucking brat, you know that?” He growls out as he leans you onto your back. The feeling of his hips flush with the backs of your thighs makes you whimper. “Gonna fuck all the thoughts outta that dumb brat brain of yours.” Keegan muses withdrawing his hips until just the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. All you can do is look up at the smirk on his lips before he begins thrusting at a pace that immediately has you babbling nonsense. “Look at you, already cockdrunk.” He laughs darkly. “Remember, you started this.”

#keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader smut #keegan x reader smut #keegan p russ #cod keegan

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callsignmarz · 4 months

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‼️MDNI‼️ - Keegan P. Russ x Y/N | Fem

“Claim Me.”

"Just grow a pair and go talk to him." Keegan insisted, slamming the door to a humvee, clearly checked out from the conversation.

"That's not how nature works, Keegan." You riposted, turning your attention back to Logan, who was currently across the motor pool, chatting to a few other soldiers.

It was no secret that you had a little crush on Logan Walker.

Whenever he was in the area, you felt like a teenager again with her first school crush. Just the sight of him made your cheeks flush a light shade of pink and your knees ready to buckle. And If Keegan had to sit and listen to how fine of a man Logan was one more time, he swore to himself that he will end it all, right then and there.

"Besides, I'd rather just...you know, let things...happen..? Yeah. Let's just go with that."

Keegan raises an eyebrow, shaking his head, unconvinced by your sad attempted claim.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Keegan makes his way over to the mobile toolbox that you've been leaning on for the past half hour — instead of helping him like he asked you in the first place.

Sensing you needed a little help in the love department, out of the kindness of his cold grinch heart, he gives you some words of advice.

"Standing on the sidelines isn't going to get you far, y/n. A man likes it when a woman takes charge. It's hot as fuck, actually." Keegan galled, giving you a friendly wink. He obnoxiously clicks a pen that he had tucked behind his ear and retrieves the clipboard next to your elbow, scribbling down the required maintenance notes.

He had a point though.

But you would never admit that, especially with how vulgar he put it.

So, you just roll your eyes in protest. "Is that so? Then tell me this. Since when did you become such a 'Love Guru?' Last time I checked, you still had trouble finding yourself a girlfriend." You implored the 'notorious' ladies man.

He hands you the clipboard and you promptly grab ahold of it. You watch him lift up the hood of the truck with one arm as if it weighed nothing.

Why did anything he did always had to be so..?

"That's where you're wrong, Sweetheart. I'm not looking for a girlfriend. Just looking for a good time." He chuckles dryly.

"You're vile." Your face contorts in disgust, but he just shrugs off your jab.

"I've been called worst, Sweetheart."

The sound of a boot scuffling against the gravel, pulls your attention away for a moment and your heart flutters when you realize Logan was standing a few feet beside you.

Okay. Act normal, Y/N...what the fuck is normal!?

"What's up, kid?" Keegan greets cooly, snapping you out of your head.

Tearing himself away from the vehicle, Keegan and Logan clasps their hands together, briefly pulling each other in, bumping shoulders before releasing one another.

"Let me guess, causing trouble?" Keegan quipped as he folded his arms across his chest.

Logan gives a friendly smile, his voice came out a smooth baritone, "Always." He flicks his gaze to you, with eyes now wide and mouth agape with incredulity.

"Who's your friend, Russ?" Logan asks as he gives you a once-over look, intrigued and wondering why he hasn't seen you before.

"This is y/n. She more of a thorn in my ass than a friend." Keegan half-jokingly introduces while giving you a look that says 'Now's your chance.'

Clearing your throat of all the cobwebs that formed within the few minutes, you extend your right hand as you give him a quick run down, "Sergeant Y/N L/N, PCS'd from Fort Wainwright about a month or two ago." Logan listens intently, taking ahold your hand with a firm grip and a surge electricity to shoots through your body.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sarge. Alaska must've been one hell of an experience." He mused with his dark caramel eyes locked in on yours. Slowly, Logan lets go of your hand, but purposely allows his touch to linger.

"I'm surprised you didn't go AWOL." He chorkles.

Slightly shrugging your shoulder and batting your lashes, you pick up on his subtle cues.

"There were days where I was tempted to, but I'm pretty good at being on the straight and narrow." You say coy-like with a smile that matched your tone.

"Good, good. But, hey! I actually have to get going, but uh...You should stop by later tonight and we can finish up this conversation. What do you say?" Logan asks with a quizzical smile, his teeth were pearly white and straight, just the way you like them.

Your mouth gaps open slightly, surprised by how fast everything was moving. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren't in a dream but the look from Keegan was an obvious indication this was no dream. Far from, actually.

"Uh, y-yeah. I don't mind." You finally answered.

"Cool...See you then, y/n."

With that, Logan walks off with your eyes following him until he's no longer in sight. You then whip around, almost tripping over your own feet, turning to Keegan and exploding with screeches of excitement.

"Did that actually happen!?" You squeal, rushing over to vigorously shake Keegan's shoulder.

Swatting your hands away, Keegan keeps his eyes forward as he tick in his jaw serves as a seedling of jealously that grew and bloomed a vibrant sprig of green.

"Yes. Now can I get back to work?" He sneers in frustration, retreating his focus back to the engine of the truck.

⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆

As painful as it was to your ego, you take Keegan's advice and with newfound determination eddied in your irises, you come up with an idea.

A man likes when a girl takes charge.

Keegan's voice resounds in your head. The heedful reminder causes your eyes to roll into the back of the your skull. Then your attention shifts back to your reflection. Surveying your outfit one last time as you twist and pose your body in the mirror making sure you were up to par.

Adjusting your black crop top so it flattered your boobs and the ripped up mom-jeans you wore were loose but they hugged you curves just enough to accentuate the roundness of your ass.

And underneath...a matching set of magenta laced lingerie.

There was no way you were not getting laid.

It was a quarter until midnight. The plan was you were going to sneak into Logan's room undetected and surprise him in his bed.

As crazy as it sounds — it was foolproof.

Like, what man wouldn't dream of a woman, as feral as you were, crawling into their bed in the middle of the night?

Right?

After applying the last layer of your clear lemon flavored lipgloss, you roll your plumped lips together followed by a loud suckered pop and you set out on your mission, making a swift exit out the door.

Approaching his quarters, you had to move quickly and quietly. You discreetly reach into your bra and redeemed a simple black bobby-pin.

Good ole reliable.

Throughout the years you've served in the military, you were taught a lot of different things. Tactical insertion being one of them. You knew how to breach any area. From battering rams to hacking security systems but, none that required something so mundane as a hair accessory.

While you expertly pick the lock, you kept your head on a swivel, making sure no one spots you committing this heinous act.

Once you hear the audible click, the corners of your mouth lifted into a confident smile.

Getting up to your feet, you casually make entry.

First thing you noticed was the overpowering smell of cedar wood. Coughing up a lung, you came to the conclusion that the air quality in here was 99.9 percent cologne and that last .1 being oxygen.

Getting past that, it was also rather dark.

Carefully waving your hand around, you try your best not to crash into anything. Eventually, you find yourself bumping into his bedpost, startling Logan out of his sleep and the same familiar baritone voice calls out in surprise, "What the fu—Y/n?"

"Wait! Shh...Just listen, please!" You say right away, hoping it'll calm him down.

"I know this is a bit crazy but just...listen. Okay? I've had a crush on you for a while now and I don't want to blend in with the other girls. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is," You swallow hard, your tone drops to barely a whisper, rolling your lips together as you crawled your way into his bed.

"Just let it happen."

In the dark, your lips find his, silencing any doubt or apprehension from leaving his mouth. A bolt of electricity shoots throughout your body, awakening the longing desire within you.

Not only was he surprised by your assertiveness but it came as a shock to you as well. Being an introvert, you wouldn't have guessed in a million years that you would've be the one to make the first move — all thanks to Keegan.

Logan's lips end up prying your lips apart, deepening the kiss with his tongue, ravishingly exploring your mouth and eliciting soft moans to muffle out as your mouth moves in sync with his.

His rough hands snake their way to your waist before hauling you over onto of him.

Your breath hitches when he breaks away from the kiss and his nose creeps up alongside your throat. Once he finds the most sensitive spot, his mouth latches onto your skin, nipping and sucking until little plum colored splotches decorate your neck.

The two of you wasted no time tearing the clothes off each other. The lingerie you wore for show, unfortunately went unnoticed as it was discarded just like the rest of your wardrobe.

You felt a firm grip on your left breast, before you were greeted by the warmth of his mouth. Not only did Logan have a pretty smile, but he knew what to do with it as his tongue swirled and his teeth gently gnawed on your erect nipple.

A symphony of orchestral moans filled the room.

The sexual connection and burning passion between you two was undeniable.

It was as if this moment was supposed to happen.

As if the two of you were meant to come together and become one.

A dream verging to come true.

Digging your nails into his back, you align him up against you seeping cunt, slowly slipping his swollen cock inside. A small whine of pleasure leaves your lips as you allow your slick walls to accommodate and adjust to his size.

"Ride me, beautiful." He rasped, his tone dripping with ascendancy and urgency.

Like flipping a switch, your back arches, rolling your hips and taking your time descending down only to spring back up when you couldn't fit any more of him.

His size was impeccable.

Your ex wasn't even close to the size and length that Logan held and from the one night stands you've had in the past, they could barely last two whole minutes.

You were in for one hell of a joy ride.

Logan's hand creeps its way from your navel, up and between your breasts to wrap around your throat accordingly.

Taking back control, he bucks his hips, crashing them underneath your thighs, barbarously driving himself deeper into your tight pussy. With your hands on his chest, you prop yourself to hover your ass over him as he kept his unwavering assault.

"Yes, yes, yes! God fuckin—Please don't stop." You whine breathlessly.

"Does the princess want to cum all over my cock?Mmm...such a needy little whore, you are..." He growls, his tone edging you closer to unraveling.

Your body felt as though God sent an angel down just to solemnly fulfill your sinful needs, relieving you of your last unholy act, right before your soul ascends to the heaven's gates.

Delirium intoxicates and overwhelms your senses, clenching your silky walls around his otherworldly cock, urging him to spill his load inside.

"Keep it coming and drown my cock. Fuck...I'm about to cum...Say my name, baby." He grits through his teeth, his thrust becoming more erratic by the second.

As your moans grow louder, your body quivers, riding the wave of your own insatiable orgasm.

"Oh God, Yes! Logan!" You screamed his name.

Your lips collided with his own as he lets out a deep groan. The heat of his load erupts and pulsated deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. You slide off of him, allowing the contents to pour out of you. The two of you pant and gasp for air, coming down from the euphoric high of your releases while your bodies entangled together.

If you had to be honest, he was more than good, probably the best sex you've ever had.

Silence fills the void with the lingering scent of sex in the air.

Without saying a word, Logan sits up, detangling from your arms and walks out of the room then returns with a towel in hand.

Your eyes strain trying to make out his features as an unsettling tension builds between you two.

"Lo—" You say faintly, making an effort to comfort him.

However he sharply cuts you off, "Lemme stop you right there." His tone dripping with grimness.

Your face twists, utterly confused, watching his dark silhouette walk over to a drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats to slip in.

"I was bound to break it to you one way or another." He says sardonically, scuffling his way across the room, flicking on the light and blurring your vision temporarily until it steadily returns to adjust to your surroundings.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sweetheart. But unfortunately I'm not your knight and shining armor." He says with a disdained sniff.

Your mouth flops open, struggling to form any sentence, but ultimately one phrase rolls off your tongue.

"What the fuck..."

The .1 percent of oxygen left in the air was sucked out the room completely, leaving you to suffocate on the distressed revelation.

The love story you'd hope for came crashing down hard. Once again, he was right about one thing...

He was no Prince Charming.

He was Keegan motherfucking Russ..

#call of duty fanfic #call of duty #call of duty imagine #keegan p russ #cod mw2 #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ smut #keegan russ x you #keegan cod #mw2 imagine #fanfic #Spotify

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grandhotelabyss · 11 months

Note

Advice/hard truths for writers?

The best piece of practical advice I know is a classic from Hemingway (qtd. here):

The most important thing I’ve learned about writing is never write too much at a time… Never pump yourself dry. Leave a little for the next day. The main thing is to know when to stop. Don’t wait till you’ve written yourself out. When you’re still going good and you come to an interesting place and you know what’s going to happen next, that’s the time to stop. Then leave it alone and don’t think about it; let your subconscious mind do the work.

Also, especially if you're young, you should read more than you write. If you're serious about writing, you'll want to write more than you read when you get old; you need, then, to lay the important books as your foundation early. I like this passage from Samuel R. Delany's "Some Advice for the Intermediate and Advanced Creative Writing Student" (collected in both Shorter Views and About Writing):

You need to read Balzac, Stendhal, Flaubert, and Zola; you need to read Austen, Thackeray, the Brontes, Dickens, George Eliot, and Hardy; you need to read Hawthorne, Melville, James, Woolf, Joyce, and Faulkner; you need to read Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, Goncherov, Gogol, Bely, Khlebnikov, and Flaubert; you need to read Stephen Crane, Mark Twain, Edward Dahlberg, John Steinbeck, Jean Rhys, Glenway Wescott, John O'Hara, James Gould Cozzens, Angus Wilson, Patrick White, Alexander Trocchi, Iris Murdoch, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Anthony Powell, Vladimir Nabokov; you need to read Nella Larsen, Knut Hamsun, Edwin Demby, Saul Bellow, Lawrence Durrell, John Updike, John Barth, Philip Roth, Coleman Dowell, William Gaddis, William Gass, Marguerite Young, Thomas Pynchon, Paul West, Bertha Harris, Melvin Dixon, Daryll Pinckney, Darryl Ponicsan, and John Keene, Jr.; you need to read Thomas M. Disch, Joanna Russ, Richard Powers, Carroll Maso, Edmund White, Jayne Ann Phillips, Robert Gluck, and Julian Barnes—you need to read them and a whole lot more; you need to read them not so that you will know what they have written about, but so that you can begin to absorb some of the more ambitious models for what the novel can be.

Note: I haven't read every single writer on that list; there are even three I've literally never heard of; I can think of others I'd recommend in place of some he's cited; but still, his general point—that you need to read the major and minor classics—is correct.

The best piece of general advice I know, and not only about writing, comes from Dr. Johnson, The Rambler #63:

The traveller that resolutely follows a rough and winding path, will sooner reach the end of his journey, than he that is always changing his direction, and wastes the hours of day-light in looking for smoother ground and shorter passages.

I've known too many young writers over the years who sabotaged themselves by overthinking and therefore never finishing or sharing their projects; this stems, I assume, from a lack of self-trust or, more grandly, trust in the universe (the Muses, God, etc.). But what professors always tell Ph.D. students about dissertations is also true of novels, stories, poems, plays, comic books, screenplays, etc: There are only two kinds of dissertations—finished and unfinished. Relatedly, this is the age of online—an age when 20th-century institutions are collapsing, and 21st-century ones have not yet been invented. Unless you have serious connections in New York or Iowa, publish your work yourself and don't bother with the gatekeepers.

Other than the above, I find most writing advice useless because over-generalized or else stemming from arbitrary culture-specific or field-specific biases, e.g., Orwell's extremely English and extremely journalistic strictures, not necessarily germane to the non-English or non-journalistic writer. "Don't use adverbs," they always say. Why the hell shouldn't I? It's absurd. "Show, don't tell," they insist. Fine for the aforementioned Orwell and Hemingway, but irrelevant to Edith Wharton and Thomas Mann. Freytag's Pyramid? Spare me. Every new book is a leap in the dark. Your project may be singular; you may need to make your own map as your traverse the unexplored territory.

Hard truths? There's one. I know it's a hard truth because I hesitate even to type it. It will insult our faith in egalitarianism and the rewards of earnest labor. And yet, I suspect the hard truth is this: ineffables like inspiration and genius count for a lot. If they didn't, if application were all it took, then everybody would write works of genius all day long. But even the greatest geniuses usually only got the gift of one or two all-time great work. This doesn't have to be a counsel of despair, though: you can always try to place yourself wherever you think lightning is likeliest to strike. That's what I do, anyway. Good luck!

#creative writing #literature

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shiyorin · 4 months

Text

Animal instincts

#Just romcom in 40K

#Today's menu: Leman Russ and Lion El'Jonson

#Primarchs x Reader, Reader is Imperial Agent

#Late Christmas gift and early New Year gift

Leman Russ

The endless snows of Fenris stretched as far as the eye could see, blanketing mountains and wilds alike under pristine powder. You found yourself overwhelmed at the awe-inspiring landscape, so different from your world upbringing.

But greatest curiosity lay with one who called these frigid wastes home - Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves. You observed him now, surrounded by his warriors yet apart, a lone towering figure contemplating the white void.

His austere features seemed carved from the very stone and ice encasing this planet, immovable yet holding untold depth and power beneath granite exterior. Thick fur-lined armor and coarse pelt draped his massive frame, like the predators ruling these inhospitable wastes.

But as Russ turned toward some comment, face transforming with gruff laughter at his pack's roughhousing, you saw not an impervious demigod but something familiar. Great shoulders shook in mirth like immense boulders slipping loose, blue eyes alive with warmth despite frigid surroundings. An involuntary thought slipped through, that in this moment, he resembled not conqueror but some canines, mighty and playful.

Shaking off fanciful musings, you continued observant tasks, keeping distance respectful between yourself and the lords of this domain. But later as briefings commenced, Russ stopped his gigantic form before you, breath curling like frost wolves from a mouth curled in question.

You blinked up into eyes keen yet gentle, all rational thought scattering like snow on gale winds. Impulse surged before discipline could rein it, and you found hands rising of their own accord to Russ' massive brow, carding gloved fingers through coarse hair as one might a trusted hound.

Silence descended, thick as the powdery drifts. Russ' features slackened in blank shock, pale eyes blinking owlishly. "Lass..." he rumbled, uncomprehending.

You started as if slapped, jerking hands back so swiftly your wrist protested. "My lord, I..." Words fled, face aflame to your hairline. What folly had possessed you so?!

Yet to your surprise, Russ laughed, a booming, resonant sound like glaciers calving. "By Fenris's ball, lass, yer got the spirit!"

His tone held no anger, merely bemusement. But when you swallowed apologies, you glimpsed what may have been wistfulness flickering through feral eyes, gone as swift as the thought that spawned it. Had his invisible tail genuinely twitched to wag? Definitely you are crazy or something.

"Aye, lass. Well, if the fur satisfies yer hands, s'pose I'll oblige."

To your shock, he leaned nearer once more, an unmistakable invitation dancing in blue eyes. Hypnotized, you carded soft locks obediently, finding they are softer than you think. Russ sighed, almost seeming to lean into your touch. An absurd image flickered of an immense wolf nuzzling against your hand, tail wagging invisible yet content. Smiling softly, you traced strong jaw and was rewarded with a look of such warmth and longing, all of your rational thought dissolved.

Lion El'Jonson

Your survey of the growing threat in Caliban's wilds brought you regularly to the Lion's tower, poring over maps and missives seeking the root of corruption's spread. This eve found you and him yet at work as dusk deepened, twin flames bending over parchment and discourse.

A lull arose as analysis hit dead ends once more, frustration mounting. You sighed and stretched tired limbs, risking a sidelong glance at your lord. The Lion remained absorbed, strong brows furrowed, stroking his trim beard absently as strategic mind raced.

A strange thought struck then, in this dim shuttered space, with dusk masking Caliban's savage beauty, did he not seem every inch a great cat himself? Powerful yet graceful, thinking moves ahead with predatory cunning, alone yet bound to wilder instincts doubtless few witnessed.

Before rational thought could intervene, curiosity overruled. Stepping softly, your hands found scratching points along Lion's bearded jaw and throat. Beneath your ministries his eyes slid shut, muscles unwinding with a contented sigh. Success! Like any feline such attentions soothed.

Encouraged, your nails lightly raked his scalp, eliciting a startling response, a primal rumbling purr trembled his massive frame. His relaxation vanished in an instant, eyes flying open to stare at your in wild-eyed alarm.

You stumbled back several paces, own eyes round as moons. Had Lion just...purred? Like some overgrown house tabby? Your mind reeled, seeking logical explanations amongst unfathomable strangeness unfolding.

Lion's pupils elongated before your gaze, resembling nought cat-like slits in green eyes gone feral-bright. His confusion melted into predatory stillness, fixing you with an eerie stare that raised all hairs standing on end. What strangeness possessed them?

For long moments you and him remained suspended, breathing halted, shock and unnamed sparks passing between hands dropped limp to sides once more. Then all broke at once, your stammered excuses and the Lion retreating to the shadows of his tower, retreating from… what?

That night, your sleep proved fitful, your mind restless with possibilities. Had you gone too far when crossed a line with Lion that afternoon, awakening forces better left slumbering?

Morning comes, dread coiled cold and heavy in your gut. Open the tower's door with trepidation, you froze at the grisly sight awaiting just beyond threshold. A massive deer carcass lay splayed, crimson pool already attracting swarms of flies.

Your breath caught in horror, had Lion's frustrations boiled over in vengeance? Was this brutal warning of what further torments awaited should your act overstep once more? Shaking, you backed hurriedly inside, thoughts whirling.

Meanwhile across Caliban's wilderness, Lion admired graceful flickers weaving between ancient trees, oblivious to turmoil sown. Inhaling your lingering scent lost to the mists. Pride swelled that his token gained your notice, for what better way to proclaim your worth and pique your interest further?

He would await your next visit, gifting further demonstrations of prowess to stoke your regard. In time, you would see none matched his prowess for providing and protecting what he deemed most worthy.

Extra:

Russ: Pat me, pat me, woof woof!

Lion: If I give a bigger prey, will the agent love me more?

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #warhammer 40k x reader #romantic stuff in 40k

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hoodharlow · 1 year

Text

August'22

AN: I had a wholeass chapter including everything that happened in August but I wasn't feeling it so I made an insta au <3 also Mack is their 'ship' name lol

Warnings: rude fans and thirst traps/ comments

@'jackharlow via Instagram Stories (August 2nd)

(August 3rd)

@'mdm: my man took me to see the loml

@'jackharlow: i took you to see your WHO

->@mdm: you heard me 😌

@'kehlani: my muse 🥵

->@mdm: love of my life 🥺

@'lilnasx: my parents

@'zendaya: I can't with you 😭

@'bellahadid: pretty girl 💕

@'haileybieber: gorggg

@'jennaortega: mom and dad

View all 17,334 comments

(August 6th)

@'mdm: to quote the great @'stormreid been a fan. loose; sylvia & pickupthephone >> y’all don’t know nun bout that lmao.

@'stormreid: you're so real 😌🤞🏻

@'saintclauds: you told the chat you were gonna post the video from my snapchat where you couldn't stop laughing at what he was saying

->'mdm: why are you always so keen on exposing my ass 😭😭😭

@'jackharlow: my favorite fan

-> @'mdm: who said I was a fan?

@'shloob: throwback to when jack was all broody bc miriam left

-> @'claybornharlow: ?

-> @'yungskylark: jack and miriam met a long time ago and they didn't know until we were in New Zealand lmao

@'djdrama: jackie boy made it

@'haterfan: miriam could do better and the first pic proves it

->@'mdmxjack: y'all are so mean and weird for thinking you can just talk about people’s looks like that

@'russfan: mid rapper

-> @'jackfan: I know a Russ fan isn't talking lmaooo

View all 38,664 comments

(August 8th) Jack wrote Backstage Passes with EST. Gee

(August 13th)

@'jackharlow: thanks for inviting the gang @'louisvillecityfc

@'jackharlow: miriam wanted me to show off her outfit

@'rudefan: why is she always there? she never lets him have fun on his own or with his friends 🙄

-> @'antimack: no literally, doesn't she have auditions to steal from hardworking people like Sydney Sweeney

-> @'mackaremyparents: the way y'all are foamimg at the mouth bc Jack's gf is spending time with him 🤡

@'mdm: damn my chichis look good

-> @'jackharlow: they look better in my mouth

-> @'lilnasx: aye cool it, we get y'all are fucking

-> @'mdm: we're not fucking, I'm a virgin 😇

-> @'jackharlow: were you doing on your knees earlier?

-> @'mdm: praying

@'katdominguez: are those my boots?

-> @'mdm: they didn't fit your lacienga boulavardez sized feet

@'winnieharlow: okay Miriam 🔥

View all 32,638 comments

(August 27th) Miriam with @'tyleralvarez via Instagram Stories

(August 28)

@'jackharlow: four awards and my favorite 4x4 meal

@'mdm: what does this even mean 😭

@':theestallion: Jack can you fight? I'll send my man

@'mdm: he can't but say the word and I'm yours 🥰🥰🥰

@'mackfan: the pool picture 🥺

@'mackhominguez: does anyone know why Miriam wasn’t there?

-> @'mdmupdates: she was in ATL all week working on her new show. @'tyleralvarez posted on his story that they had night shoots last night

@'rudefan: y'all notice she wasn't at the VMAs? She was probably jealous that she wasn't going to be in the spotlight. I hate how no matter what she always gets mentioned. I want better for Jack. It's sad to see him go from this carefree guy to some guy that has to bring up his gf. It's so obvious it's PR

->@'Miriamstan: I lost brain cells trying to comprehend what this says

@'hater: mid rapper, mid girl

->@'jackfan: imagine calling Jack anr Miriam mid

@'giahunter: Miriam's 25% whiteside is showing, look at her wearing shoes in a BED

@'jackfan: damn who would have known Miriam had all that ass 🥵🥵🥵

-> @'mackshipper: everyone who can see

View all 23,765 comments

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @whywontyoulovemecami @meyocoko @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract

#jack and miriam #jack harlow smut #jack harlow #jack harlow instagram au

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eggymf-archived · 1 year

Text

of paper planes and wildflowers; 03

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: not proofread, unedited

chapter summary: an unexpected idea, an unexpected duel with equally unexpected outcomes, and an unexpected reconnection between two fools thanks to a wingman with wings. how... unexpected.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is where it all starts! also, no smut until probably pt. 6 btw. just putting this out there since i'd rather not disappoint anyone who stays tuned for the spicy parts. :D

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

Roaming Hogwarts during early hours was quite the experience —there was something alluring about the school being in a state of serenity. The sight of the castle grounds this morning was similar to a beautiful painting: the verdant landscape was covered in a light blanket of fog, and the light of daybreak was peeking through the fluffy clouds. The air was crisp and refreshing, and it was pleasantly silent aside from the adorable little trills and hoots from the owls around you.

You were currently in the owlery with Garreth, each of you intending to send letters before heading to the library to review some notes before classes start. This, by far, was undoubtedly one of the most random (and arguably pointless) idea to have ever popped inside your kooky little head: you and Garreth were planning to send a random letter to a random person, and the both of you will let your owls do the picking.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Garreth mumbled, letting out a sleepy yawn while wiping the stray drops of drowsy tears from his eyes.

"It's better than nothing though! You've been a miserable little boy eversince you found out Samantha was dating a 6th year a week ago," you reminded as he gave his owl an envelope before it flew off.

"Well- I can't say I disagree but this is rather outlandish, to be painfully honest," he shrugged.

You had no arguments with what he said — this was something you've decided to do out of the blue without much thought, after all. However, you didn't let Garreth's rare display of pessimism deter you.

"Doesn't rule out the fact that it might help us gain a new companion!" you chirped happily. "The mystery sort of adds to the appeal, in my opinion."

"I'll just hope that my letter comes back unopened instead of falling to the wrong hands," he sighed.

A familiar deep-sounding hoot was heard from above, followed by the strong flapping of wings. A great horned owl perches on the railings right in front of you, and you promptly gave its striped, dark brown feathers an affectionate stroke.

"Huh. Russ seems to be getting fluffier lately, isn't he?" Garreth asked. You stared at your owl, who tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Oh? Perhaps someone else has been spoiling him," you mused while he hooted rather enthusiastically, flapping his wings lightly. You giggled at your larger-than-usual feathery friend, reaching for the inner pocket of your robes. You grabbed a sealed envelope containing a letter with no address.

"Just give this letter to anyone you want. Preferably a student though," you instructed the owl. Russ blinked quizzically before narrowing its eyes in suspicion. Garreth snorted in amusement at the owl's reaction.

"Come on now, Russ. No need to be a spoilsport," you chided, giving him several owl pellets as an offering for his cooperation. Russ complied, consuming the treats happily. You placed the envelope at his dark-colored beak before he flew off.

The hallways of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower was more crowded than usual especially during afternoons: students were either making their ways to their classrooms, lounging about at the cushy seats near the portraits, or loitering with their fellow learners at the sides of the corridor. The variety of students began to part slightly as a familiar blinking red light emitting from a wand tip was in their line of sight, navigating its owner through the hallways. Several eyes glanced at the wand's owner, either out of intimidation, admiration, or curiosity of varying degrees.

To the observant eyes, Ominis Gaunt was quite a sight indeed: not a single stray of blonde hair out of place, pale pink lips, skin that nearly rivals that of a Veela, beauty marks that appears similar to constellations, a rather prominent jawline despite the very slight rounding of his cheeks, high cheekbones, and a tall, lithe frame. His best feature, despite his disability, was his eyes that resembles twin blue moons. However, as ethereal as the young Gaunt seems, his reputation was in the far end of the spectrum.

The House of Gaunt — an infamous pureblood family; the direct descendants of the ancient families of Slytherin and Peverell. It was a known fact that they were quite a nasty lot of magical folks, having produced many dark witches and wizards throughout their long family history. Oftentimes they took their ideology of pureblood supremacy to insensible extremes: inbreeding, torturing poor muggles for sport, and many more incriminating activities that were most likely concealed no thanks to their wealth.

The infamy of the family had unfortunately stunted poor Ominis' chances when it comes to establishing a wider circle of friends (or anything beyond, really) — after all, bearing the Gaunt surname itself was a blight to one's reputation.

He was nothing like the Gaunts especially in terms of heart. Just like any typical young lad, he had his moments of mischief, rebelliousness, foolishness, longings, glee, and triumphs. In fact, it was rather ironic that Ominis longs for a simple, normal life of peace and righteousness despite being branded as someone who seemingly has "everything" due to the status of his blood. No matter how far he runs from all that's related to his family, the disadvantages will trail him no matter where he was. At the end of the day, the Gaunts are bound by the invisible chains of insanity — something that Ominis hopes to completely break free from one day.

Presently, Ominis has many problems that are normally not shown out in public. However, he never would've even fathomed that girl problems would be thrown in the mix. It's been a month eversince you had any form of interaction with him, so he should be in repose for now, right? He got what he wanted, after all.

Wrong.

He never expected the outcome of his decisions to completely backfire against him. Staying away from you was the most rational choice he needed to make for the sake of self-preservation. However, it was clear as day that you were completely avoiding him to the best of your ability — he sometimes overhears Garreth Weasley asking you about your unusual actions of hiding from a blind man, which resulted in you poorly deflecting the questions from the young chap. As much as he should feel a sense of relief that you're voluntarily steering clear from him, he was strangely more upset than satisfied with the thought.

Behind his stoic mask, his head had been a warzone of crippling bemusement for the past few weeks. All he thought of, aside from the occasional responsibilities as a student, was you: the typical overachieving Ravenclaw he never even liked since first year, yet here he was getting uncharacteristically angsty deep down with the lack of attention he was receiving from you. It's rather funny how the tides change so easily when it comes to matters of the heart.

Was it because he still felt guilty about how he loses control of himself whenever he's alone with you? Was it his repressed toxic traits attempting to egg him to claim you for his own satisfaction? Or worse, was he beginning to form some sort of genuine interest towards you?

Whatever the answers were, it most certainly gave the poor young man a headache. He despised this turmoil, especially if it involved some form of dehumanization like having this burning urge of claiming you for himself like you were some kind of object. It felt as if he's equally as morally fucked in the head as his other family members, and he'd much rather get eaten by a basilisk than to be like them.

Ominis climbed the flight of stairs while he was buried deep within his thoughts. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of suspicion-ridden eyes kept itself fixated on his form as he entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, head peering out from behind a certain 5th year Gryffindor student with wavy red locks who had his arms crossed. He deadpanned at his best friend's antics.

"You do know that he can't see you at all, right?" Garreth pointed out while Natsai crossed her arms, smirking lightly with one brow raised in amusement.

It was usually a rare sight to see: you, the epitome of intellectual pride, being all demure and fidgety. But lately, you've been acting horrendously out of character whenever a certain blonde-haired Slytherin student was within the vicinity. You've battled more dangerous enemies in your life yet here you were hiding from Ominis Gaunt out of all people. Embarrassed at your painfully obvious skittishness, you straightened your back, clearing your throat.

"Alright, off we go! We'll be late for class!" you spoke in a slightly panicked manner, scurrying off to the same classroom with both of your companions tailing after you. Unfortunately, you three arrived the last to the classroom: the only remaining seats left were the ones right beside Ominis Gaunt, Everett Clopton, and Imelda Reyes. You glanced at Garreth and Natsai, who each had a dangerously mischievous glint in their eyes.

Oh no.

The two of your so-called friends bolted towards the seats beside Everett and Imelda, leaving you with the one right beside Ominis. You shot them both a seething glare, begrudgingly making your way towards the seat beside the blonde-haired male. The rather playful interaction with your friends caught the attention of Sebastian Sallow. He took a quick glance at you sitting at the last remaining seat beside his best friend, and then right at Ominis himself, who subtly gulped and loosened his tie a little with a slight pink twinging his normally pale cheeks after subtly catching a whiff of your perfume. Needless to say, Sebastian was flabbergasted with Ominis' unusual display of bashfulness.

The door of Professor Hecat's class swung open, indicating the start of the class. In all honesty, you didn't really expect much would happen during today's lesson: Defense Against the Dark Arts classes mostly comprised of a lecture prior to practical lessons where everyone practices on training dummies.

This time, surprisingly, the whole class seems to have grasped the Everte Statum spell easily. As a result, a rather pleased-looking Professor Hecat decided to host a friendly duel amongst the class since everyone had finished the practical exercises rather quickly with lots of time to spare, much to a certain Slytherin student's delight. The whole class gathered around a certain bag containing several charmed papers, taking turns to grab a piece within it.

"A total of three pairs will be chosen to partake in the duel, and whoever gets the the same color are opponents. No jinxes, hexes or curses allowed - only charms and basic cast!" Professor Hecat instructed sternly as the furniture within the classroom arranged themselves while a long and elevated platform was conjured right at the center of the room

You opened your hand, finding a blue-colored paper on your palm, much to your surprise.

"Oh you finally got one! This will be interesting," Garreth commented with an excited grin. You scanned around, searching for the same blue paper. Your eyes finally spotted the other, and it was held by Skylar Evans, the new 5th year.

"Oh, this will definitely be a show!" Garreth laughed while you audibly exhaled in both anxiousness and curiosity.

Miraculously, you've never been picked in Hecat's classroom duels in the last three years — you wouldn't be surprised if the new 5th year were to end the round within ten seconds despite your battle experience. Rumor has it that they are well-capable of taking down trolls and Ashwinders, after all. You silently hoped that the strategy you were currently forming in your head would suffice in at least putting up a good fight.

"Merlin, I'm nervous," you muttered, while Natsai patted your shoulder reassuringly before heading up the platform with Sebastian.

Time breezed right through as everyone watched the first two duels. The whole class was immensely energized by displays of mettle and raw talent by their own peers as they hurled multiple spells towards each other. The match between Sebastian and Natsai was quite thrilling since the both of them are known to be skilled with their spellcasting. Their match ended with Sebastian being the winner, but only barely. Poppy Sweeting surprisingly won against Leander Prewett despite his usual aggressive approach.

The class murmured amongst themselves as you and Skylar stood atop the wooden, carpeted platform.

"I feel sorry for her," Leander mumbled. "Evans is quite brutal in duels."

"I'd say. Even Sebastian lost to Skylar during our first day this year," Everett replied. Garreth, however, was rather confident with your abilities.

"Oi Sebastian!" he whisper-called towards the brunette beside him, who leaned sideways to the redhead.

"One sickle. I'm betting on my best friend, of course. You game?"

"Oh, you're on," Sebastian replied confidently while smirking. Ominis scoffed in response at the two, trying his best in ignoring the bubbling worry deep within his gut.

You steeled your nerves, taking deep breaths while gripping your wand firmly.

"3... 2... 1... Go!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

The jet of red light ricocheted away from you as a thin spherical shell encased you, which was followed by a shot of white light firing from the tip of your wand. Skylar dodged the spell, continuing their onslaught of firing casts and verbal spells towards you. Various surges of colorful lights were cast in succession as the both of you exchanged blows of magic, the sounds of spells rebounding against magical shields filling the classroom. This pacing went on for a while, with each of Skylar's attacks getting more frantic while you maintained a stable defensive stance for yourself the longer the duel lasted.

Skylar quickly felt exhaustion creeping up to them during mid-battle, while you wordlessly countered and blocked every spell they flung towards you. A jet of blue light shot towards them, prompting them to quickly activate a shield. The spell never came, much to their confusion.

"Everte Statum!" you cried as soon as Skylar's shield was gone. The spell hit Skylar square on the chest, throwing them off the stage, causing them to land on the stone floor unceremoniously with a thud. Everyone's mouth was hanging ajar as Skylar shook their dizziness off — it felt as if they were hit right on the head with an iron skillet. Meanwhile, Professor Hecat was smiling quite proudly at the display of spellcasting prowess between her students.

"Alright, Sallow. Cough it up," Garreth smugly said while the said male gave him the silver coin with no complaints. In fact, Sebastian wasn't upset in the slightest despite losing his bet with Garreth — it was probably one of the most brilliant duels he'd ever seen so far between two students. Ominis on the other hand, felt a wave of relief quell the bubbling pit of worry within him.

"Points to Ravenclaw for applying today's lesson in that duel," Professor Hecat announced, rearranging the classroom back to how it was. She turned to you, lowering the volume of her voice.

"I must say, I'm quite impressed with that rather unusual use of the illusion charm at the end. Glad to know that Lawrence has successfully trained a formidable Auror-in-the-making," she said, giving you a wink. Your ears perked up at the mention of your uncle, a smile gracing your lips as you accepted the hard-earned compliments.

"Class dismissed!"

"Are you sure you didn't go easy on her?" Sebastian asked Skylar, still finding the outcome of the duel rather unbelievable.

"I'm sure of it. And she doesn't seem to be saying incantations almost throughout the whole duel. Is that normal?" Skylar asked with genuine curiosity.

"Only from 6th year onwards. And she seemed so well-versed with it too," Sebastian mused. "Either way, I'd like to duel her myself someday."

"You barely won your duel against Onai, Sebastian. Perhaps you should tone your excitement down for now?" Ominis suggested, raising an eyebrow. Sebastian crossed his arms in response while Skylar's lips curled into a teasing smirk towards the now sheepish brunette. The three of them enjoyed the light breeze and relaxing silence within the Transfiguration Courtyard while flipping either through several pieces of parchment containing written notes or books. However, both Sebastian and Skylar had to leave Ominis a bit earlier to go to their other classes for the day, leaving him to his books.

A certain great horned owl swooped down towards the alabaster-skinned male with an envelope held by its beak, landing beside him quite gracefully. Ominis heard the ruffling of feathers right beside him, causing a faint smile to curl on his lips. He reached out to the familiar owl, petting its fluffy feathers fondly. It handed the letter towards the Ominis, much to his astonishment.

"Is this for me?" he softly asked, and the clever owl hooted enthusiastically in response. Ominis pried the wax seal open, dragging the piece of parchment out of the envelope. Using his wand, he pointed at the piece of paper and muttered a spell. Bumps started to emboss itself from the parchment's surface, and he gently dragged his fingertips across the bumps to read the letter.

Hello, stranger! If you're reading this right now, I'm assuming that Russ has taken quite a liking to you in some way. I've entrusted him to deliver this letter to his person of choice, after all. As to the reason why I would let my owl do the picking, unfortunately there's none. This was merely a random idea that I thought of while I was taking a quick shower after an exhausting day. Though as unconventional as it may seem, I think this might be a great way to start making friends with new people — the safety of anonymity gives the voiceless a chance to communicate their thoughts more freely without judgment. So what say you? Are you interested in maintaining correspondence with this little stranger? Sincerely, Lucie P.S. If Russ refuses to cooperate, just give him a few owl pellets. He gets quite testy sometimes but he's fairly easy to bribe. P.P.S. Lucie isn't my real name.

"So Russ is your name huh," Ominis muttered, running his fingers through the owl's striped plumage. Russ blinked owlishly, tilting his head in curiosity as the male as he conjured up a self-inking quill, a small roll of parchment, an envelope, and a small wooden board to put his parchment on. Ominis then began scribbling his reply to the letter while the owl stared at the misty-eyed male, occasionally turning his head around to look at random students passing by while waiting for him.

After several minutes, Ominis neatly folds the letter, tucking it into the envelope and sealing it after. He waved his wand towards Russ, summoning several pellets. The owl hooted in appreciation, feasting on the little treats.

"Deliver this for me to your owner, would you?" he gently said as Russ hooted before grabbing onto the envelope with its beak. The great horned owl flapped its large wings, flying away.

For the rest of the day, nothing much had transpired aside from being holed up in the library alongside your fellow housemates. The study session was absolutely exhausting — so exhausting that you couldn't even bother going to the Great Hall for dinner that evening. Frankly, it has put you in a rather irritable mood, which was evident with a tired frown on your normally serene-looking face. You wanted nothing more than to have a quick shower and doze off for the night.

Thankfully, the Ravenclaw knocker didn't give a particularly difficult question this evening, and you were able to enter the common room with no additional obstacles. The sound of heels clacking on wood echoed throughout the empty stairwell leading to the girl's dormitory rooms as you trudged up the stairs, eating the treacle tarts that Samantha had given you earlier that evening.

Upon entering your room, your eyes immediately caught a sight of an envelope laying atop your navy blue bedsheets. Your eyes widened in realization as you ran towards your bed, grabbing the item. Excitedly, you unsealed the letter to read its contents.

Dear Lucie, I must say, you have quite the eccentric mind for coming up with this idea of anonymous correspondence, but I do agree with your train of thought regarding its advantages. In fact, I would love to keep in touch. How about we get to know more about each other a bit more? As a young gentleman myself, I shall start the ball rolling. You may call me Vesper or any of the like, and I'm currently studying in at least my 5th year here in Hogwarts. As you might've probably wondered, Russ has been accompanying me for quite a while now. He gets rather gluttonous whenever he's presented with owl treats, so I apologize if he has put on a bit of weight. You've got quite a charmingly clever owl in your care, and I simply couldn't resist his adorable little mannerisms. On that note, I should probably buy more treats for him the next time I go to Hogsmeade. Looking forward to your next letter, Vesper

< chapter 2: what a mess! 🔞

chapter 4: an adventurer's whims >

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy

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