#cowpokeomens
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Dress
Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: 18+ this is straight up self-serving porn!!!!!!! Minors go away!!!! Anyways this has got everything: Biting, p-in-v, blowjobs, fingering (female receiving), breeding kink, big ole praise kink, me projecting how badly I want to swallow William's load, I think that's it but by all means DM me or reply if you think I should add something!
Literally no one hmu unless it's to talk about this photo. It has nothing to do with the story but I wanna fuck him so bad so I'm putting it here. It's my blog I do what I want.
Yes I was listening to Dress by Taylor Swift as I wrote this!!!! Yes it's one of the horniest songs in her discography!!!! Leave me alone!!!!
Anyways.
This is straight up porn, no plot in sight, no beta because I'm insane, no fucks given because I'm a whore! Enjoy.
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Will was about to vibrate out of his fucking skin.
He’s irritable, too- a far cry from his usual “Sunshine and Rainbows” disposition. People kept trying to make conversation, ask him about the tour, compliment the new album. It would end with a curt, “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” as his eyes would be dragged from whoever he was talking to back to you.
The dress was unfair. It was diabolical, even. He searched his memory, trying to come up with a reason you’d put him under such physical and emotional duress. He did the dishes last night, made breakfast this morning- he even folded the laundry! In terms of “deserving of death by nefarious garments,” his conscience was clear.
Yet there you were, clad in the slinkiest little black dress that he never knew you owned. You had spent hours in front of the mirror, perfecting your makeup, carefully styling your hair. It had been fun for him to watch; Fun to listen to your “Ultimate Emo” playlist and jam out while you painstakingly applied a swipe of lipstick, a striking mark of eyeliner. It was fun.
He stopped having fun the moment you stepped out in the goddamned thing.
“Zip me up?” You had asked, batting mascara-ed lashes at him sweetly. His brain had short circuited for a second, rebooting completely when it started overheating. Zip you up? He wanted to eat you up, toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and keep you in bed for hours.
“Where are you going in that?” He asked incredulously. Your breasts were about to fall out, fabric clinging to the small of your waist. There were other details- lace and ribbons and shit he didn’t have the vocabulary for when his head was running on all cylinders, much less now. You turned around so he could reach the zipper better, and he genuinely wondered if the anime nosebleeds were onto something with how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your ass stretching the fabric.
“Um, to the jamboree your label is hosting?” You retort with a giggle. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to this shindig if we don’t leave soon.”
He had complied, after some whining, zipping you up and kissing you softly on your shoulder, willing his cock to miraculously soften.
Then you had arrived, and he was swept away by record executives, you saw a group of gal-pals, and he had to keep his hands to himself.
For hours.
Will’s hands itched with the urge to reach out and touch you, twitching at his sides. Someone said something that must have been fucking hilarious, because you were laughing, head thrown back, chest heaving-
I can’t do this. He thinks to himself. This is a task for men stronger than me.
Quickly downing the last dregs of his cocktail, he impolitely excuses himself from the group he was speaking with, maneuvering through the mass of people to where you stood.
“Hi baby!” You call when he enters your line of sight, smiling brightly. You’re in a small group of people who also greet Will upon his arrival, immediately asking about the tour.
“It was a lot of fun, thanks for asking.” Will mumbles distractedly, eyes never leaving you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand, love bug?”
Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, sure.” You quickly excuse yourself from the group, leaving with warm goodbyes and tight hugs. Will thinks he’ll catch on fire before the two of you make it out of the building, but then you’re walking over to join him, the two of you quickly working through the crowd.
“Is everything okay, Will?” You ask when you’re both out of earshot. Concern is evident in your tone, and Will fights the urge to smooth the crease between your eyebrows with a kiss.
“Yeah, just itchy is all.” He murmurs to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both exit the building. Itchy was a good word; He was practically crawling out of his skin with the urge to get you undressed, underneath him.
Guilt overtook your pretty features. “Oh baby, was the party too much? If you felt overstimulated, we could have left earlier-”
“No, I’m fine, pretty girl, really. It’s just-” He sighs, stopping in the parking lot to dig his keys out of his pocket.
“Did I do something?” You sound so sad, eyes widening. Will could practically see your mind sifting through the evening, trying to find some misstep.
“No, no baby- stop. I can see you overthinking, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” He sighs again, pausing by the car now. He glance around the two of you, making sure you were alone, before guiding your hand to his groin.
Your eyes went dark at what you found there. “Holy shit, you’re- how long?” You stammer, sounding hoarse.
“Ever since you put on that fucking dress.” He admits sheepishly.
“C’mon.” You nod towards the car, motioning for him to get inside.
You made quick work of shutting your door, Will about to start the car when you stop him.
“Leave it off.” You command, making his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Less conspicuous.”
“Less conspicuous for wha-” Will’s question was cut off as your lips locked with his in a searing kiss. You gripped his shirt in your hands, dragging him closer to you.
“All hard for me, huh?” You whisper against his lips.
He’s nodding before he realizes it. “So hard, baby, all fucking night, all for you.”
You’re nodding with him, already drunk off of the power you have over him. “Let’s get you taken care of then, yeah?”
You tear your lips away from his to better unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging the fabric down the best you could in the cramped space. He hisses as you pull his briefs down so that his cock can spring free.
“Holy shit.” You breathed, taking him in.
He’s always been big- you were familiar with that part- but you’d never seen him after being hard for hours. The veins on his cock were bulging angrily, the tip shiny with precum and deliciously red.
“Poor thing,” you say in a saccharine voice, leaning in to kiss the cherry-red tip.
He outright keens at that, hips barely jerking up, like it was taking everything to hold himself down. “Don’t be mean, pretty girl.”
You give him one last grin before you’re swallowing him down, stopping three-quarters of the way down to soothe your gag reflex.
“Fuck-“ Will gasps into the air, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. His grip tightens, and you feel your control over the situation slipping away. “Fucking tease tonight, huh? Not enough to wear your slutty little dress, couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth either, could you?”
You whimper almost silently at his words, but he feels the vibrations of it on his cock. “Little slut likes that? Does she want me to use her pretty mouth?” He continues, pulling you up by your hair just enough for you to be able to speak.
You relinquish any semblance of control you had when you manage a small, “Please.”
He grins at you, so far from his regular, cheerful smile, and pulls you in for one last kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and wonderful, and you’re almost sad when he yanks you away by your hair again to guide you down to his cock.
“Open.” He commands, the gruffness of his voice making you quickly do as you were told. His cock is in your throat immediately, but before you can gag, he’s pulling you back up roughly. You manage half a gasp of air before you’re being shoved back down, swallowing him again. He continues fucking your face at a brutal pace; Soon spit is covering your chin, and you can feel you mascara running down your cheeks in the form of tears.
“So fucking good for me.” Will grunts, hips thrusting up to meet your face. “Such a good girl, taking what she’s given.”
The praise makes you moan- or at least, as much as you could with him fucking your mouth so thoroughly. You’re lost in the sensation of him so deep in your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as he uses you. His thrusts start becoming irregular, a chant of your name and “fuck” falling from his lips as his movements grew shorter and shorter.
Oh, you think. He’s so close, you can see it in the tension of his body, in the drawn-up expression on his face. You want nothing more than for him to finish in your mouth, to make you swallow it down, but he pulls out abruptly, chest heaving with labored breaths.
“Is something wrong?” You’re pouting, you can feel yourself pouting.
He sees your face and huffs a laugh, still panting. “Pretty girl wants my cum that bad?”
His words- the vulgarity of them- color your cheeks pink. Although… Yeah. That was exactly what you wanted. You nod, the smallest movement.
You think you hear him stop breathing, but then he speaks again. “C’mere, honey, I’ll give you what you need.” He motions to his lap, where his cock is beckoning you like a siren at sea. You hastily go to unzip your dress, but he stops you. “Leave it on.” His gaze drags down your form, back up to your throat, where his eyes linger for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. “Leave all of it on.”
His words make you shiver, but you obey, crawling over to straddle his lap. He yanks your panties to the side in record time, immediately thrusting two fingers into you. You mewl at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as your hand comes up to slap over your mouth to muffle the sound.
“Nuh uh, let me hear.” His voice is in your ear, nose rubbing against the lobe of it. “Let me hear your pretty sounds- God, you’re so fucking wet.”
You could hear him moving his fingers inside you, even over your own noises. You grind down into his hand without consciously realizing you’re doing so, chasing the pleasure his fingers brought you. You open your eyes blearily, wanting to see him, only to find that he’s studying that same spot again, right at the base of your neck. Jutting your chin up so that your throat is completely vulnerable, you give him a meaningful look.
He accepts the offer, teeth coming down to bite at your pulse point. The moan that escapes you is profane, dwindling to the pathetic whimper of an injured animal as he sucks at the skin where he bit, soothing it with his tongue. Your chest is next, ample cleavage on display for his lips to lock onto, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin with ease. The hand that’s not fucking into you grips onto your waist to leave another bruise, pulling you impossibly closer.
You know what he’s doing- Marking what’s his, letting everyone know who you belong to. And you couldn’t care less about the perception of it, lost in the pleasure of his lips and the sensation of being owned. Arching into his mouth, your hands tangle in his hair as your legs start to quiver with unadulterated want.
“‘M close, Will I’m-” You pant, tugging at his hair desperately.
“I know, pretty girl, be good and come for me so I can fuck you properly.” He whispers into your neck, and that’s all it takes to hurtle you over the edge, shaking with your orgasm even as he replaces his fingers with his cock.
It’s so much more- more girth, more length. It stretches you, fills you up to the brim. You’re still in the aftershocks of coming as he starts fucking you in earnest, yanking you into his chest until you feel like you can’t get a breath in. You’re practically wailing, the sensitivity of getting fucked so quickly after orgasming overwhelming, but it’s perfect.
“You’re my girl, right?” He’s grunting, holding you stationary while his hips rock up into you at break-neck speed. “My pretty girl, all mine.”
You nod, incoherently babbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours-”
“Want my cum?” He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. It’s all love there- an all-consuming love that illuminates his gaze like a flame. “Want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you- Keep a baby in you?”
You’re nodding again, unintelligible sounds falling from your lips in response. “Please.” You finally manage to stammer out.
He’s almost smiling, a joyous kind of pleasure overtaking his features as his thrusts grow erratic for the second time that evening. Your grip on him tightens as you feel yourself get closer and closer, tears springing in your eyes from the overstimulation.
It hits you like a fucking train, face curled into his neck in a silent scream, legs spasming in every direction. He fucks you through it, coming in hot spurts inside you, thrusts growing sloppier until he finally nestles himself deep within you, setting you down gently in his lap again.
You’re panting and trembling, completely collapsed against his chest. The both of you sit like that a few long minutes, his hand rubbing at the exposed part of your back soothingly. When you feel an iota of strength return to your body, you’re craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.
He’s grinning, turning to look down at you. “Well shucks, thanks for the kiss, honey.”
You’re giggling with him, pushing yourself up so that your back is straight. You hiss as the movement moves him inside your sore hole, a shudder passing through your body.
“You better cut that out, I’ll fuck you again if you’re not careful.” He warns teasingly, hands gripping your hips lightly.
You flash him a grin, and then ready yourself for the chore of him pulling out. You know it’s going to be tender, but you still yelp as he slips out of you. Flopping into your seat, you give yourself another minute to collect your breath. He tucks his cock away, zipping up his pants carefully and starting the car.
You zone out for a moment, only recognizing the long silence that has stretched between the two of you after a few minutes more have passed. You look over at him, a question on your lips, when the look on his face makes you pause.
He’s staring in between your legs, a small pout on his face. “It’s leaking out.”
You throw your head back, barking a laugh at his distress. “I have an IUD as well, my love, I don’t think it’ll work no matter how hard you try.”
His eyes go dark at your words. “Then I’ll just try harder next time.”
Before you can respond, the car is in drive, and you’re headed home. You quickly buckle your seat belt, pulling down the passenger mirror to clean yourself up, stopping when you catch the first glimpse of your reflection.
Your makeup has smeared everywhere. Black streaks run down your cheeks in rivulets, your lipstick smudged around your mouth. Your tits are littered with bruises, lovebites of various colors decorating your skin. You look like a slutty fucking mess, You think to yourself. You’re searching for a napkin to wipe your face when Will speaks up again.
“Leave it.” He flips on his turn signal, pulling onto your street. His jaw is tight, and you swear you can see a bulge in his trousers. He turns to look at you as he puts the car in park in front of your house, eyes already glossed over again. “Leave all of it.”
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Hey what do you think will is cooking for dinner on date night :-/
Pasta, a jar of Ragu, and pre shredded Parmesan.
Or tries his best to recreate the dinner he made with Elizabeth’s husband in the throat scope video. Definitely doesn’t come out as tasty, but it’s the thought that counts right? It’s at least edible and not the worst thing you’ve ever eaten. Also excitedly shares the neat tip he learned on how to get the stinky garlic off your hands which I can vouch for , it does work
He can’t have garlicky fingers mucking up his dessert.
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Top 5 niche interests you have
1 - Roller Derby
2 - I'm aware this is the unhinged fic website, but writing and reading fic lol
3 - Plants
4 - Knitting
5 - Random scene/emo bands from the 2000s
thanks for the ask! 💕
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Warnings!: strong language, arranged marriage, eventual argument between couple, Noah is depicted as being cold, violence, blood mentions, mentions of attacks, (poorly written) action/fighting/ possible torture mentions/ sexual themes, tba…
Chapters: { 1 } { 2 } { 3 } { 4 } { 5 } { 6 } { 7 }
Synopsis:
Your family’s contract was coming to an end. No more protection, no more cover ups, no more instant money. Either you father paid the money he was given or pay with his life. He was at a dead end unless he came up with a new plan. In fact, you father had already had something in motion. Something that could guarantee his life, money and his family were secure once again. It was something he wasn’t happy doing, but it had to be done.
You were the new contract. Marrying into the biggest mafia organization in exchange for money, protection, status and anything in between. Out of his 4 daughters, Y/N, Lauren, Emily, & Cheri of course you’re we chosen to marry Noah Sebastian. He was cold, ruthless, merciless and as quick as a whip.
The longer you stared at the marriage papers, the more you hand shook, and the faster your heart raced. Or felt like you were signing your life away…well, you were in the end. And as you stare at the ring in your left hand you wonder
What is to be of my life now? A loveless marriage based on business, or could there be a soul behind those dark eyes of his?
[Taglist🥃]@darling-arwen-rose @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @cowpokeomens @fvckmeorchokeme @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @missduffsblog @shilohrosechicken @sorrowsofsilence @thescarlettvvitch @twyftwyt @thefallennightmare @thecartelqueen @cind6547 @niicoleleigh @lilhobgobbler @crimson-calligraphyx @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @thenoahsebastianfiles @lacktoesandtoddlerants @reader13000 @badomensls @chemicaltendancies @iknownothingpeople @thebadchic @ladispo0p @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @flowery-mess @malixxxmistress @kageyasma
#bad omens#noah sebastian#noah sebastian x reader#bad omens band#mafia Noah Sebastian#bad omens cult#noahsebastian#badomens#bad omens fanfiction#the contract - by star✨
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FIC RECOMMENDATIONS:
i wanted to make a list of fics i thoroughly enjoyed. all of you are amazing, and i wanted to show you some love. everyone give these fics a read if you haven’t already <3
BAD OMENS:
Sweet Like Honey by @darksigns-exe
Slow Down by @measuredingold
Just Friends by @measuredingold
Heaven Sent by @measuredingold
Now Our Tongues are Tied by @measuredingold
Don’t Cry Over Spilled Wine by @concreteburialplot
Intertwined by @concreteburialplot
We’ll Get You There by @concreteburialplot
Draped Across by @concreteburialplot
Euclid Verse by @deathblacksmoke
I'm Buzzing at the Thought by @deathblacksmoke
You’ve Got a Pretty Way About You by @deathblacksmoke
The Crazier I Came by @deathblacksmoke
Dramamine by @deathblacksmoke
My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire by @circle-with-me
The Way You Bend, The Way You Break by @circle-with-me
You’d Be Better Off on Your Own by @foliosriot
Consequences by @collapsedglasshouses
Little One by @cowpokeomens
Polyverse Cam Boy AU by @the-way-of-words
So Give Me All You Got, I Can Take It by @the-way-of-words
Sweetened Breath, Tongue So Mean by @rottingfern
Said & Done by @nerdraging4point0
Dive by @ladyveronikawrites
Interlude: Made Breath and Skin by @mysticdoodlez
WILL RAMOS:
Somewhere Along the Way by @malice-ov-mercy
My Love by @malice-ov-mercy
All I Want for Christmas (will x noah x reader) by @malice-ov-mercy
Music, Love, and Sex by @malice-ov-mercy
You’re Shooting Stars from the Barrel of Your Eyes by @circle-with-me
Tis’ the Damn Season (all parts) by @circle-with-me
Will As Your Boyfriend HCS by @foliosriot
VINNY MAURO:
Am I Fuckable? by @foliosriot
Vinny As Your Boyfriend HCS by @foliosriot
Sweet Boy by @circle-with-me
JESSE CASH:
Jesse As Your Boyfriend HCS by @foliosriot
Legs by @circle-with-me
dividers by @cafekitsune
last updated 04.18.24
#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#will ramos fic#will ramos fanfiction#vinny mauro fic#vinny mauro fanfiction#noah sebastian fic#nicholas ruffilo fic#nick folio fic#jolly karlsson fic#fic recs
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FIC RECOMMENDATIONS
To support my fellow fanfic creators, I wanted to make a list of works I absolutely love. You are all so good at what you are doing, thank you for your services!
Keep in mind some links might not work anymore due to fanfic removal or blogs not existing anymore but I wanted to keep them in the list anyway to keep the memories!
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
BAD OMENS:
SWEEP ME OF MY FEET by @badnoahmens
A HUNDRED SILENT WAYS & THE DEVIL'S PRAYER BOOK by @signs-of-ill-portent
YOUR HAND IN MINE by @starsomens
SAFETY NET by @measuredingold
I NEED A FUCKING MIRACLE by @t0ken0mens
LITTLE ONE by @cowpokeomens
PULLED FROM THE GREY by @crimson-calligraphyx
CLUTCH by @kingdomof-omens
LIMONCELLO by @sinkingteethinwhitenoise
SCAR by @ladyveronikawrites
JUST PRETEND by @thefallennightmare & @thescarlettvvitch
SCREAM by @foliosriot
SWEETENED BREATH, TONGUE SO MEAN by @rottingfern
CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THE CHANCE by @deathblacksmoke
FIKA by @thefallennightmare
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
MOTIONLESS IN WHITE:
SPACE BETWEEN US by @tearfallpixie
SURPRISE by @kingdxmxfcxrds
SHADOWS OF RED by @nerdraging4point0
EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORNS by @cookiesupplier
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND READ THESE AND ALL THE OTHER WORKS THOSE PEOPLE PUT OUT THERE. I PROMISE, YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED!
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
LAST UPDATED FEB 2024
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#motionless in white fanfiction#motionless in white fanfic#motionless in white band#noah sebastian x reader#nicholas ruffilo x reader#nick folio x reader#jolly karlsson x reader#vinny mauro x reader#ricky olson x reader#chris motionless x reader
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Beg for it.
Noah Sebastian x female reader
Masturbation, toy, Noah is a teasing little bitch that let you beg for it.
Wrote this after one of the amazing @cowpokeomens (THIS PERSON IS A FUCKING GENIUS GO READ) headcanons, putting it here if you want to read it.
Once again this might be more of a drabble than a fic since I don't have that much time to write but give me a week and we shall be good.
I'm not big on the dom/ degrading kind of stuff but I just see Noah as a mean teasing little asshole. The dude is going to edge you just because he likes to hear you whimper and that is MEAN. Bear with me on that one y'all. Already wrote about that and I'll gladly do it again.
Alright, that's it, love you guys.
Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog
Noah wasn't mean. He meant no harm. He did not want to hurt anyone. Still, when he had you squirming under him, panting and whimpering, totally out of breath he swore that he could just keep you in this state forever. Painfully edging you over and over. All for his little pleasure.
You were so pretty crying for him. All the little moans he was getting from you were just the sweetest music to his ears.
You didn't know how he got you every time but you continued to fall into his traps. Noah was just two steps ahead of you each time. It was just the way it was between the two of you. Everything was set up when you expected it less.
Noah was a planner, he had the mind and liked to put it to work, he liked to think about everything, he liked to just have you mindlessly staring at him like he knew better than you how you would react to his moves. And he liked the idea of getting you off. Liked the fact that you would entirely rely on him, trusting him and letting him do anything to you because he was able to make you feel pleasure like no one else ever did.
And just like that, his mind was perpetually wandering on these horny thoughts. Oh, the things he would do to you while you two made out for hours on the bed. His hot breath humidified your skin just as his mouth travelled down your neck.
You couldn't help but squirm under him already. His hands roaming all over your body to tease you.
-Stop moving already. He groaned against your skin, stopping his kisses and you tried to stay still the best you could. God, you're so fucking needy.
Your hands tangled in his hair you restrained yourself to not immediately tug on it.
-'m sorry- Please Noah. You breathed out, desperate for his touch as he had been playing with you this way for more than an hour already.
You only heard him chuckle mockingly, his hands starting to administer his caress again on your skin. They brushed your ribcage as he kissed your neck again and again, leaving red marks of abuse on your sensitive skin.
Sneakily his fingers grew closer to your breasts, cupping one of them as a shiver travelled through your body. He felt it under his touch, a big grin settling on his face.
-Want me to touch you? He whispered, his hot breath fanning under your ear again.
You only whined, nodding vividly as you waited for him to do so for a while now.
-Where? Pausing, he kissed you again. Tell me.
-Wherever you want. I don't care, just do it for fuck sake.
Your voice was so desperate that it was slightly pathetic. You stuck your lower lips between your teeth as his thumb passed on your nipple, his fingers brushing over your skin, rubbing circles on it.
His breathing got heavier in your ear, the sound of it making you clench your legs together, at least try, to get some friction. But Noah rapidly got a hand on one of your inner thighs, pushing it apart from your other leg.
-Come on. Give me more. Defeatist you tried to coax him one more time. Hoping he would finally give to your supplications.
Standing up on his knees he separated himself from you for a moment, taking his shirt off before leaning back to you. You kept your gaze on him the whole time, admiring the way his shoulder muscles were working when he threw the clothing on the floor, joining the rest of the clothes he stripped out of you moments before.
He settled himself between your legs, spreading them as he laid his lips on your inner thigh, leaving teasing kisses once again. His hand kneaded the other one, his long fingers dipping in the fat of your muscle. He continued to blow air, wetting the area while he toyed with you.
-God I could watch you wriggle like that for hours. He voiced these words hoarsely, his intense look lifting to meet your gaze. I could just slightly brush my hand against your slit. He paused, waiting for your reaction but you kept staring at him completely hypnotized by his voice. Just like that.
His voice was so low that you could barely hear it when his fingers loosened themselves on your thigh, brushing along to reach your slit, his middle finger tracing your entrance with the subtlest pressure he could apply.
You gasped, your arms pressed on your chest to, once again, not just shove his head right between your legs. In the process you scratched yourself a little, leaving red marks on your collarbone.
-Hm. He hummed at you. You would like that, wouldn't you? If only I pushed it-
His head returned to your groin, his lips kissing between your legs and your pelvis before rising themselves to your hip where he left his wet kisses again. Still, his fingers did not leave your core they gently and slowly brushed your folds but cautiously avoided where you wanted him the most.
-If only I pushed it enough to finger you.
You only mewled at his firm tone, pushing your hips against his hand but he took it off.
-Should I? He moved his lips from your hips to your chest, pushing your arms away with his free hand.
-Yes please, do it. You looked down, your gazes meeting once again. You tried to separate him from your breasts, cupping his face and bringing his lips to yours. Please finger me, Noah.
Just like that his mouth collided with yours, ravenously kissing you while he pushed his long middle finger into your intimacy. He curled it vividly earning a loud and desperate moan from you.
-You're good? He asked, a bit worried by the way your voice highly cracked.
-Yes. You breathed out, nodding. Yes, I'm fine.
He nodded back, mimicking you before quickly adding a second finger, curling them inside of you as he brushed that sweet spot. Your cheeks heating your breathing became a bit more erratic, completely led by Noah's movements. His fingers were long, thick inside of you and you wondered how his slender fingers could fill you up that much.
He continued to caress you until you started to rhythmically clench over him, moans escaping you more and more frequently. But suddenly, when you thought you were finally reaching your so-wanted climax, he drew them out of you.
-What the fuck- You spat out, lifting yourself on your forearms as you furrowed your brows at him, not expecting to be robbed like that. But you should have, it was certain that he would not let you come just like that after teasing you for hours.
-Language. Noah looked at you, his severe gaze piercing through your whole body and you blushed, disrupted by his attitude.
-Sorry. You murmured, pouting as you looked away. I just wanted to come. He chuckled before licking his fingers clean, drying them on the cover of the bed to get rid of his spit. In the second he bent forward the nightstand, taking out the small vibrator he bought you a while ago.
-I know you do, baby.
You watched every single one of his movements as he made you lean back on the bed. His figure followed you while one of his hands turned you around, forcing you to rest on your stomach. Anticipation settling in your core you swallowed, Noah's weight keeping you pressed on the mattress.
-But you're such a whining little creature. In a quick movement, he got a silk cloth out with it. Lemme play with you for a bit, hm? He hunched forward, brushing his lips on your forehead and you agreed, closing your eyes to enjoy his contact.
He straightened himself a little for stabilization as he grabbed your wrists, tying them up before putting you on your back again.
You obeyed silently, letting him turn you around as it pleased him when he pushed the little toy into your cunt. It was so small and you were so wet that it went in without any kind of inconvenience, Noah enjoying how effortless you were taking it.
-I'm not letting you come until I do. He pressed his lips on yours one last time and your eyes widened, supplication in your look. But he turned the vibrator on, sending shivers through your body.
And just like that, he sat on his knees, settling himself between your legs as he watched you clench over the small object, softly vibrating into your intimacy. You saw him unbutton his pants, freeing his cock as he started to feel himself. His breathing getting heavier he continued to observe you wriggle, looking desperately for more friction, your hands tied in your back restraining you while he did not deign to touch you.
The slow intensity he turned this thing on was slowly killing you, bringing you to the edge without being strong enough to offer you release. And the view that was offering you Noah was definitely not helping you to calm down. He kept staring at you, pumping himself violently as he jerked off on your moans and whimpers, fucking his fists in such a devoted way that it made you cross your eyes.
-Fuck. He groaned, trying to get his breath back. You wished I fucked you like that, didn't you?
You hummed at him, arching as his words sent an electric shock in your limbs and he laughed at you only to pump himself harder -like it was possible-.
-I mean, it's true that I could die to feel your little cunt right now. He paused. Yeah. Then moaned. The way you would be clenching over me. Letting me fuck you dumb.
He continued to jerk off and you swore you could just come, if only he touched you, if only you could get some friction out of him, if only-
-God Noah, please. You called him, the frustration not bearable anymore but he denied you again, focusing on his own release. Please, Noah, I'll be good. You squirmed again. Come on.
You kept calling his name on a loop, his head buzzing to the sound of your pleas as he reached his climax, admiring the way your watery eyes were supplicating him.
You lamented under his gaze until he gave up, cleaning himself to approach your sensitive intimacy.
-Don't you ever shut up? He mocked you, one of his hands sliding on your torso, the other one brushing your folds until his thumb reached your over-aching clit.
-No. I don't, hm. You jerked back the feeling of his pressing digit on your intimacy bringing your climax to the rim of the cliff.
-Shhh. His hand slid from your torso to your neck, his grip tightening as he brushed his mouth on yours. Of course, you fucking don't.
That being said he accelerated the motions on your clit while kissing you, swallowing each one of your sounds as you felt your orgasm finally wash over you, leaving you completely drained under Noah's touch.
-But keep begging and I'll fuck you blind, baby.
#bad omens#noah sebastian#fanfiction#fanfic#smut#headcanon#not mine tho#wrote this instead of doing work
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Happy birthday Noah!🖤
here’s some of my favourite noah fics & one shots i’ve read to celebrate our birthday boy!🥳
(all 18+, please read warnings for each fic before reading)
Miracle - @thefallennightmare
Primal - @starsomens
Know Your Place - @starsomens
The Devil’s Prayer Book - @signs-of-ill-portent
Blood Born - @cowpokeomens
Just Pretend - @madiomens
and of course my own🖤
Vest top
#bad omens#bad omens band#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fluff#bad omens smut#happy birthday noah
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all the wine is all for me || a Bad Omens fanfic
Summary: Noah’s just admiring his gains. Perhaps he’s a little more proud of his progress than the average guy. There’s definitely not a secret third reason for why he’s spending so much time in front of the mirror…
Pairing: Noah x himself lol
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: unbeta'd trash. masturbation. narcissism in the greek mythology way not the psychology way
A/N: I drank a lot of wine (what else is new) and also @throughwoodsanddirt showed me that one panel from the comics that made me cackle so hard because damn Noah just really thinks he's hot as fuck huh and then I cackled until I wrote this fic
Brainrot Club: @familiarscarsxelectrichearts @throughwoodsanddirt @cowpokeomens
Masterlist here.
Title taken from All the Wine by The National; banner made by me (using Caravaggio's Narcissus); dividers by @saradika
Noah’s reflection is smiling at him.
That, of course, is explainable by the fact that he himself is smiling; grinning, in fact, because he just looks so damn good. His gains this month were frankly goddamn impressive. Already he can see the widening of his chest to form an inverted triangle of his torso, the definition building in his bicep when he flexes.
What worries him, though, is the naughty glint in his reflection’s eye, the too-sharp canines, the raise of a single eyebrow that he definitely is not capable of reproducing. Never has been.
He knows this look. Once, he had a fling with this girl who was an absolute freak, gets him half-hard even just remembering half the things she got up to between the sheets. And the fucking cherry on top: she loved making movies. Editing those for her unfailingly devolved into multiple-hours long dates between him and his hand. The face he’s making - his reflection is making - is the one that painted his face in the movies when she, pointing her phone to get his reaction, would ask him for the nastiest shit he’d thought only a fantasy in porn.
So it makes no sense that he’s looking at his reflection like this, because it’s not like he’s into himself.
His hand beelines south down the expanse of his strong (so goddamn strong, he’ll have definition in his six-pack any day now) stomach. That’s definitely not something he’s doing of his own volition. He’s not that self-absorbed.
Well, that’s a lie. He’s not gay (unless you count the exploratory hand stuff him and Nick did as teens), but if he could, he’d totally fuck himself.
It takes a bit of effort to shuck the grey sweats he’d worn down his hips with one hand, distracted as he is with the shapes his other arm makes as it continues to flex in the mirror. These used to be pretty loose, just crossing the line of oversized on him. Now, they’re filled by thick thighs and marble-cut hip flexors. With a single finger, he traces the vee framing trimmed pubic hair. These used to show just a hint of the magic underneath. Now, his hardness bulges a vulgar display.
Dropping the band even just an inch springs the tip of his cock, leaking and ready to play. It’s the only part of his body he’s never been self-conscious of, because God or whoever else decided he at least deserved a win in that department when they decided to make him a skinny bitch with weak lungs. Gives the girls who settle for him a nice reward.
Except, he never gets this hard for all the pretty girls he bags. This - the red, burning tip, the feeling like if he touches it he’ll cum in just a few strokes, the pain of wanting to draw the pleasure out as long as he can - is reserved only for the times he’s fucking his hand.
There’s a quiet battle of wills that follows between giving up inspecting his gains and giving into his own touch. He cups his balls through his sweats, head kicking back tugged by an invisible hand at the squeeze. Noah’s sure the column of his throat looks positively delicious like this, has seen enough photos of himself in this devout escape onstage, and thinks he’s no better than all the commenters saying they’d like to lick it. He’d do it instantly, and he knows it’d feel good.
In the end, the sweats come down his thighs. He’s never denied himself pleasure so heavily mounted, not when paraded before him so, not when the boundaries are inexistent. He won’t let himself be fucking tease.
The drag of the calluses on his fingers against the tenderhot flesh of his cock sends gooseflesh up his arms.
His toes numb for a moment as he finally takes himself in hand at the base, breath hitching wetly as he watches his hand wrap against himself. He’s heavy in his hand even to himself, so thick and veiny and so hard. A drop of precum splashes his thigh before he even has a chance to run his hand up the length. He collects it with his pinky when he reaches the tip, not daring let it go to waste.
Thunder thighs has always been a confusing insult to him. Thighs are the strength in legs, the support to a body, the place you put your hand to hint your desire to a lover. Thighs are his handles when buried in a lover - the cradle to what every person wants most from another. Years of touring and running out of underwear have made him accustomed to going commando, but since his thighs filled out - though he now can afford to just buy a five-pack Hanes on a whim - he prefers it. There’s never a better cradle for a commando cock than a thick set of thighs.
The overeager spit bubbles as it mingles with the precum on his palm, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun. The way they rapidly deflate feels like a countdown, one he’s determined to beat, and so finally, finally, he takes himself in hand earnestly.
He can’t help the strangled hiss that escapes.
Noah’s usually pretty quiet in bed. Doesn’t like the vulnerability that comes with voicing his pleasure, with sharing the secret of how easy to please he is with a partner. But, fuck, does he love talking himself through it. “C’mon, baby,” he chants to his hand as it increases speed. “So fucking good,” he groans through gritted teeth.
His voice is so fucking smooth. So fucking deep when he speaks through his chest. Just the perfect amount of grit that, if he shuts his eyes, he can feel reverberate through his nape and scalp and bang against the back of his nose as the sound waves travel to his cochlea.
He won’t shut his eyes now. Never - not when he’s looking like that with his brow furrowed, gaze hard and nearly icy, nostrils flared and jaw clenched tight.
He clenches it tighter, raises his chin just so to create the illusion of that perfect jawline.
“Noah,” he moans, “god, Noah, fuck.” It echoes in his ear, and it is his voice, but he swears he didn’t feel his lips move as he watches them round around each syllable in his reflection.
His name sounds so good rolling off his own tongue.
Release hits Noah not like a full-speed bullet train, but the way it feels when you pulled your first tooth: slow, painful, and with each tug more builds up until it just pops out. Only after does he register the relief, the shoot of tension up his spine to burst behind his eyes and temples, the numbness in his fingers as he struggles to jerk himself through.
Just those few final caresses. His cum blinds him with exploding stars and broken breaths. It paints the mirror in sloppy strokes of seminal goo, but he supposes that’s what Windex is for.
Before he registers the signal from brain to limb he kneels, the rough of his wall-to-wall carpet digging into his knees as he releases his eager tongue. The spend is saltybitter when it coats the bed of his taste buds, slimy as it runs down the ramp of his throat. Noah makes sure to collect every single drop.
He doesn’t feel shame when his eyes meet his own in the wet, distorted reflection once he’s done savoring himself. “You did so well, baby,” he says. “Such a good baby.”
His reflection nods eagerly, eyelids fluttering blissfully, head dropping as Noah’s neck stays stiff and still, eyes wide open.
God damn, he is a sight to be seen.
#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#crackfic#noah x noah#fern words
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Pas de Trois: Part One
Pairing: Reader x Noah, eventual Reader x Nicholas
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: None! (Yet)
I was just thinking, like: Swans, right? But Noah and Nicholas. No beta we die like Odette and Siegfried!
It was as cold in the beginning as it was in the end.
You could pretend all you wanted- that the embrace of a not-quite lover could warm you enough to stay alive. But you both knew better by now.
It starts the way it ends: at a pond.
You need a breather from your mother and her love schemes. Something about a party at the Van der Whatever’s condo on the east side, the unwed men rumored to be in attendance.
All those years of safeguarding your virginity like a crown jewel, only to be whored out to the first eligible bachelor the second you turned 23 and expressed no interest in marriage.
You roll your eyes at the thought of it; the idea of preserving your chastity whilst being surrounded by the scum of the earth in Bottega stilettos. It feels like you rub elbows with literal vampires most days: creatures that linger in the shadows, waiting to drain you of whatever they needed from you in that moment.
At least Bela Lugosi never asked you about why you decided against Yale after your father’s hefty (and unrequested) donation.
The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you walk. You wander into a familiar park near your apartment, the street lamps illuminating the freshly fallen snow in a gentle glow. All around you, trees creak and groan in the wind, as if they, too, were ready for spring again. It isn’t so secluded that you felt any real danger, but it was far enough away from the sounds of traffic to give your mind space to wander.
Faintly, you hear the sounds of people milling about on the street. There’s a theatre up the road- they’ve been hosting a ballet company performing The Nutcracker for the last month or so. Looking through the gaps in the bushes, you can spot a few people dressed in rich velvets and fur coats taking photos under the gleam of marquee lights. You haven’t gone to see The Nutcracker for years now. Your mother stopped taking you when you confessed that you did not have the talent- nor endurance- to be a real ballerina, the same time that she unenrolled you from dance classes altogether.
Humming Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux to yourself, you meander through the park until you come upon a pond. A treasure in your heart, it’s a spot you come to often to clear your head- though this is your first nighttime foray.
Longer than it was wide, the pond was not the most impressive in the city by a longshot. Most people didn’t even know of its existence, save the few dog-walkers who came through in the mid-morning and late afternoon. It was familiar, though, having been situated here as far back as your memory could recall.
Winter crept over the small body of water in sheets of ice at the outer perimeter. If the temperature continued to drop (it would) the entire thing would be frozen solid by next week. As it was, the ice at the edges looked thick enough to hold up an entire person.
You fight back the melancholy this brings you, knowing the incoming freeze would take with it the many creatures that inhabit the pond. The ducks have long since left, flying somewhere further south, somewhere warmer. The fish have been awfully quiet the last few weeks as well, settling in for their winter rest. That really just left the-
Ah, You think, sounding hushed even in your head. There you are.
They glide in silently, slicing through the water like moonlight. Long, graceful necks with great plumes puffing up behind them, the swans are pure magic in the stillness of the night. They make a triangle in the water, with four smaller fowl following the swan at the crest of the formation. Its dark eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel so utterly vulnerable under its gaze that you look away, suddenly very interested in your shoes.
Must you be intimidated by everything? You sigh to yourself internally. Seriously, a fucking bird?
You felt silly as you built the courage to finally look back up, but the bevy had disappeared. Craning your neck around, you were halfway to considering searching for them on foot when a branch cracked behind you.
Whirling around, your eyes scanned the tree line, pulling the mace on your keychain out with shaking hands. The neighborhood was safe, sure, but you weren’t stupid. A girl alone in a park well after the sun had set? Yeah, you’d seen the crime shows- no thanks.
“Hello?” You call, your voice wobbling despite your best efforts.
Another crack.
Your mace was up in an instant, poised and ready to fire. You are not a damsel in distress, you are certainly not going to be a statistic. As your heart pounded in your throat, a figure came into view.
“Ew, there’s bird shit everywhere- Woah!” The stranger stumbled backwards, hands up in the air as he saw you. “Oh my god, please don’t tase me-“
“It’s not a taser.” Was, for some reason, your first response. Then, “Who are you? What are you doing lurking around in the dark?”
His eyes went wide. “It’s a public park! I’m going for a walk!”
Your eyes narrow, the hand wielding the mace never moving. “A walk? At 9:45 at night?”
Impossibly, his eyes grew wider. They were dark- familiar in a way you couldn’t fully place in your panicked state. The snow reflects off of them, reminiscent of starlight. “You are also in the park at 9:45? And you’re armed?”
Well, that was certainly a valid observation. You take two deep breaths, then lower the mace, though not pocketing it entirely. You spend a moment observing his appearance.
He was tall- tall enough to be threatening, if he wanted to. Slim build, dark eyes, like you’d noted before. His hair was parted down the middle, brushing against the top of his cheekbones softly. He’s handsome, you think. Not the overly-manicured handsome you were accustomed to, though. He reminded you of the first dandelions in the spring; The delight you feel at seeing a living thing burst forth from the frozen ground, uncaring of if it's a weed or not.
A huge sweater encompassed him, something light in color and soft-looking. The sleeves poked out of the arm holes of his jacket in a strange way, as if it took a great deal of work to stuff them in there in the first place. A hat topped it all off, giant pom-pom bobbing at you in a way that was far from menacing.
“That’s a weird hat to wear while you creep on people in the park.” You quip, cocking an eyebrow at him.
His mouth drops open in shock. “My grandmother made me this, fuck you very much. And it’s winter! Of course I’m wearing a hat. Are you always this bad with logic and reason?”
“So you don’t deny creeping?” You ignored his question.
The face he gives you would have been comical under different circumstances. “Wha- Okay, look, I’m sorry for encroaching on your turf- even if that turf is city property-“ he mumbles the last bit to himself- “But I’m not like, a serial-killer-murderer. Pinky promise.”
He looks so earnest, it reminds you of a little kid. He is holding out a single pinky to you, a safe distance away.
You eye him warily for a second, then sigh, taking a few steps forward to interlock your pinky with his. He beams at you, smile as bright as the snow that began to silently fall around the two of you.
You introduce yourself, shifting on your feet in a way that feels awkward and uncomfortable, like you were suddenly too aware of your body’s movements.
“I’m Noah.” He offers warmly, cheeks and nose tinged a rosy pink from the winter air. The longer you look at him, the less intimidated you feel. He was still large- but in the way that the inflatable noodle-people outside of used car dealerships were large. He didn’t flail, necessarily, though. His movements seemed fluid, controlled. Where you were rigid from years of posturing amongst socialites, he was naturally elegant, as at ease under your gaze as the swans in the pond earlier.
Soft, your mind supplies. He looks soft.
His voice is gentle when he speaks again. “So, what brought you to the park in the middle of a blizzard?”
You try to resist the grin that creeps across your face; you fail miserably. “If you think this is a blizzard, you’re in for a shock come February.”
“Do you defer every question someone asks you, or am I just special?” His dark eyes are trained on you, head cocked to the side curiously. It wasn’t an attack- his expression was too open to be on the offense. He was genuinely waiting for your answer.
“I needed to get away from my mother.” You answer honestly, shrugging, though not meeting his gaze.
You can feel his eyes on you, though, searching for more. “You got into an argument?”
Shaking your head, you cast your eyes back to the pond, hoping to get another glimpse of the swans. “Not an argument. We have the same discussion every week, knowing fully well that we’ll disagree and end up screaming at each other.”
You have not felt… seen, like this, ever. You aren’t an adamant rule-follower, but you’re far from a rebel, too, allowing you to safely pass through life unnoticed. Even your mother only really seemed to remember you after your older sister had been married off to some fishing industry tycoon. To have a stranger see through your facade was unnerving.
“Disagreeing and screaming sounds like an argument to me.” He pushes, to which you hum noncommittally. Sensing your apprehension, he follows your line of sight to the pond instead. “The ducks left weeks ago.”
“I’m not looking for the ducks.” You answer shortly, perhaps a bit too harsh.
“Oh?” Is his only response.
It’s obvious he wants you to continue. This was a safer topic than your mother, so you yield to his piqued interest. “I like watching the swans. They were here earlier, but I think you scared them off.” Your eyes slide over to him slyly.
He scoffs, looking insulted. “The swans probably left because they were scared you’d mace them.”
You whirl on him, poking a finger into his chest. “The swans don’t lurk in the bushes at the park like a weirdo.”
His expression is unimpressed, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “No one was lurking. Besides,” He grabs the finger directed at him gently, guiding it down to your side. “You don’t make a good damsel in distress. Anyone trying to steal you would just bring you back when they figured out how mean you are.”
“I’ve been nothing but cordial.” You sniff, brows furrowing at him.
His smirk is a little overwhelming. “If this is you on your “Nice” setting, I’d hate to see you pissed off.”
“Stop pushing your luck, then.” You respond dryly. He throws his head back to laugh, and the sound makes you feel warmer in your coat.
You turn back to the pond, giving up on seeing the swans again tonight. You probably need to head home, anyways- you were expected at this stupid party, and suffering through it would be better than dealing with your mother’s nagging if you were absent. You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your fate.
“I should go.” You say to no one in particular.
You feel Noah’s eyes on you again. “Hey, don’t let me run you off. I can go if I’m bothering you-”
You shake your head, body turning to face him before you realize you’re moving. “No, it’s not you- really.” You offer what you hope is a kind smile. “I’m expected somewhere. My mother will be horribly cross with me if I’m not there.”
He’s giving you an understanding smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Sounds like a real rager. Will I, uh-” He glances down at his shoes, kicking at the snow before continuing, “Will I get to see you again?”
The question genuinely startles you. You assumed your demeanor (and mace) would be off-putting enough for him to be quite happy not speaking to you from this moment forward, but he… wanted to see you again?
“I mean,” You stammer, unable to find your words, “I’ll be around. At the park. If you’re also around.”
When he looks up, his face is alight. “Okay, yeah. I’ll also be around. Near the swans.”
A grin sneaks its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you. “Yeah, near the swans.” You avert your gaze, needing to look anywhere but at his hopeful expression. “See ya, Noah.”
He calls out a goodbye, but you’ve already scurried past him, the heels of your boots clicking rapidly against the sidewalk as you make your escape. You don’t dare glance back.
Your home is a few minutes away, shorter than usual given the fact that you’re practically jogging through the winter night. By the time you’ve shut your front door behind you, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily.
Your mother appears from the kitchen, her usual expression of passive annoyance plastered on her face. She calls your name, as if she needs to get your attention when you’re the only two people in the room. “Where have you been? It’s been snowing for half an hour, you’re going to catch a cold. And your boots are covered in mud- for heaven’s sake, really, we need to leave soon. Why are you grinning like that?”
You don’t register the smile on your face, still panting. Schooling your features into neutrality, you mutter out a quick, “I’m going to change clothes, be down in a sec.”
She’s ranting about punctuality and manners, but you barely hear it as you run up the stairs, grin overcoming your features once more as you think about dark eyes and soft smiles.
#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#bad omens x reader#bad omens smut#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian smut#cowpokeomens
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Thank GOD someone else is on the same bullshit as me because all I can think about is this guy idk if you've heard of him WILLIAM RAMOS????????? Between ur legs and he's just GOIN at it and you're overstimulated so you pull at his hair until he comes up just enough to look at you and there's a string of spit connecting his lips to your clit anyways I'm so sorry if this was too horny for a public ask feel free to delete if I've gone off the deep end (I've absolutely gone off the deep end) cheers!
I need to you to know that thot has taken me out. It made my brain short circuit.
There is nothing behind his eyes, not a thought in his brain. He’s entirely gone, lost. Consumed. Enamored. And maybe a little annoyed you’ve interrupted his meal.
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Couldn't send this privately, so y'all get to watch @cowpokeomens mental and sexual breakdown
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FIC RECOMMENDATIONS
Hello! I've decided to update my recommendation list and give it a bit more structure, this is why I'm making a new list and try to keep it updated as often as possible. (The old list will still be available don’t worry)
To my fellow fanfic creators, I can't even put into words how much I appreciate you all. You're all so good at what you are doing. Thank you for sharing your masterpieces with us! ♡
Please read the content warnings for each piece of fiction! Most of them are NSFW so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
LAST UPDATED APRIL 3 2024
BAD OMENS:
Noah Sebastian x OC/Reader:
✫ JUST PRETEND by @thefallennightmare & @thescarlettvvitch
✫ ENTOMBED by @thescarlettvvitch
✫ MERCY by @thefallennightmare
✫ I TOOK YOUR KEYS, IT WAS ME by @badnoahmens
✫ SWEEP ME OF MY FEET by @badnoahmens
✫ PULLED FROM THE GREY by @crimson-calligraphyx
✫ SWEETENED BREATH, TONGUE SO MEAN by @rottingfern
✫ SCREAM by @foliosriot
✫ THE ROTTEN AND UGLY by @foliosriot
✫ THE INEVITABILITY OF LOVE AT SECOND SIGHT by @veronicaphoenix
Nicholas Ruffilo x OC/Reader:
✫ SAFETY NET by @measuredingold
✫ DISGUISED IN YOUR SHEETS by @deathblacksmoke
✫ DELICATE BEGINNING RUSH by @concreteburialplot
Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x OC/Reader:
✫ LITTLE ONE by @cowpokeomens
✫ ABSOLUTION by @cowpokeomens
✫ SCAR by @ladyveronikawrites
✫ LIKE BRANCHES IN A FLOOD by @the-way-of-words
Nick Folio x OC/Reader:
✫ CLUTCH by @kingdomof-omens
✫ LIMONCELLO by @sinkingteethinwhitenoise
✫ HARDER by @sorrowsofsilence
✫ THE CRAZIER I CAME by @deathblacksmoke
Matt Dierkes x OC/Reader:
✫ FOR YOU? NEVER by @thefallennightmare
✫ JUST FOR TONIGHT by @withcrossesandframes
✫ MATT DIERKES FRIENDS TO LOVER REQUEST by @thcfountain [Matt Dierkes x ace afab!Reader]
Other Pairings:
✫ LOST IN THE CONCRETE JUNGLE by @ladyveronikawrites
✫ CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THE CHANCE [Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader] by @deathblacksmoke
✫ DOMINATE THE GAME [Coach Davis!Noah Sebastian x female reader x Coach Cerulli!Chris Motionless] by @ladyveronikawrites & @nerdraging4point0
Love Triangle:
✫ VIRALITY [Nicholas Ruffilo x fem!OC & Noah Sebastian x fem!OC] by @concreteburialplot
MOTIONLESS IN WHITE:
Vinny Mauro x OC/Reader:
✫ SURPRISE by @ravieisunhinged
✫ BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE by @beaker1636
✫ SWEET BOY by @circle-with-me
Ricky Olson x OC/Reader:
tba
Chris Motionless x OC/Reader:
tba
Other Pairings:
✫ EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THRONS by @cookiesupplier [Ricky Olson x OFC x Chris Motionless]
dividers by @saradika-graphics
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens rpf#nicholas ruffilo fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fanfic#nicholas ruffilo fic#nick folio rpf#nick folio fanfic#nick folio fanfiction#nick folio smut#nick folio fic#joakim jolly karlsson fanfiction#jolly karlsson smut#jolly karlsson fanfiction#jolly karlsson fanfic#joakim jolly karlsson fic#vinny mauro fanfiction#chris motionless fic#ricky olson fanfic#fanfic recommendation#motionless in white rpf#matt dierkes fanfiction
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So I have an unconventional fic request, but not a weird one. More of a “ I never read anything about it in any books/or fanfic” and I was wondering if any of you talented people would be interested. (Just so you don’t think I’m a creep, it about a medical condition sadly common for people with a vagina).
Come say Hi if you’re curious.
Now I’ll go die of shyness for even thinking about tagging you all in a post you amazing people!
Love, B.
@nerdraging4point0 @transmutethegold @throwingmetothelions @starsomens @cowpokeomens
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Will We Both Be Satisfied
oh hey, shout out to my pals in the server for helping me process and accept that one shots will never just stay one shots, you all are amazing at allowing me to brainstorm these crazy ideas with you- also collars iykyk.
BIG THANKS TO @deathblacksmoke and @cowpokeomens for beta-ing and helping me merge two drabbles into this beauty.
This fic is the combination of:
I Can't Read Your Mind and Say My Name
also mentions events that took place in Hotel Hijinks
This is can read on it's own.
*more parts ahead because- why not*
Pairing: TOP!Noah Sebastian x bottom!Nicholas Ruffilo [switch gang]
Summary: What starts out as innocent pampering for Nicholas' birthday, really heats up when Noah vows to make his boyfriend's fantasy come true.
CW: consensual voyeurism, Somnophilia (individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious) , Acousticophilia - (being sexually aroused by sound/ noises, moans, music etc), male masturbation, Noah being first sour then sweet, spit as lube, brief mentions of collars and other non-descript BDSM implements. If I missed anything please let me know!
Word count: 1.9k
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Nick chews on his necklace while he cleans the kitchen when he hears the front door open and close. In the corner of his vision, he sees a flash of tattooed arms. He doesn't look up when he asks, “Hey Noah, I was wondering if I-” but he swallows the rest of his question when he turns and meets Noah's eyes.
His mouth drops open when he notices the singer's hair- well, lack of hair. “N-nevermind.” Nick turns back, busying his fingers with putting away glasses into the cupboard to hide his embarrassment. He stretches his body long to reach the top shelf, his bed shirt hitching higher, when he feels large warm hands wrap around the exposed skin of his tummy. The back of Nick's neck tingles as Noah leans down, breathing into his ear to kiss his earlobe.
“I can’t read your mind, Nicky…” Nick grips the counter's edge as Noah nuzzles into the crook of his neck. He huffs, accepting defeat. “I was uh… going to ask to braid your hair, but um..” Nick trails off when Noah's husky laugh rumbles against his skin.
“Sorry,” Noah says softly as he gently turns Nick to face him, “but you can still braid Jolly’s hair.” Nick knows Noah is trying to help, but when he slides his hand through Noah’s now short hair, sadness grips his stomach, and he can’t meet Noah’s eyes.
“It’s just not the same.” Nick drops his hand to his side, turning out of Noah’s embrace, but is met with resistance.
“Here, why don’t we finish watching Attack on Titan, and I’ll braid your hair,” Noah says as he twirls a finger into his boyfriend’s raven hair. Nick’s blue-grey eyes light up and Noah can’t stop the grin from curling his lips. “Let me finish this up,” he says as he tucks the hair behind Nick’s ear, “and I’ll make us some popcorn while you get the show started.”
Nick answers back with a quick kiss on Noah’s lips before pulling from his embrace, giggling and practically skipping on his way to the living room. Nick collects a few pillows to sit on in front of the couch and a blanket to wrap himself in while he waits for Noah. Warming buttery popcorn fills his nostrils, making him sigh as Noah slides in behind him on the large green velvet sofa.
“Comfy?” Noah asks as he hands Nick the bucket of popcorn, the collector’s edition from when the pair saw the Avengers movie in theaters all those years ago- well before they ever admitted their feelings for one another.
“Mhmm,” Nick answers with a mouth full of popcorn. He nuzzles against Noah’s firm chest as his boyfriend starts to detangle his unruly hair. Noah is so gentle with him, the slight tug on Nick’s scalp pricks at first then melts away the tension instantly. Noah’s slender fingers work quickly to section his hair down the middle. He loosely ties one section off with the hair tie from his wrist before starting the plait.
Nick’s eyelids start to get heavy despite the intense scene on the screen. With Noah’s warm breath on his neck and the stimulation of his scalp, Nick is struggling to stay awake. It feels so good to be cared for and pampered, sometimes he wishes he could do the same for Noah.
“You are doing so well staying still,” Noah mumbles softly, eyes still focused on the task. He smirks when he watches Nick shiver slightly at his praises. “Hey,” Noah pitches his voice lower, stern. Nick freezes instantly. “I’m almost done. Will you be a good boy for me and let me finish?”
“Yes, sir,” Nick whispers, knowing how much Noah loves to be addressed as sir. Their dynamic is unique considering they are both switches, despite everyone proclaiming Noah as THE dominant. They make it work; going with the flow of it and not caring too much about how it should be and all that bullshit.
Nick shoves more popcorn into his mouth as Noah continues, trying and failing to muffle the moan that slips from his parted lips. Emboldened by the sound Nicholas makes, Noah tugs at the root once more before tying off the final braid. Nick’s eyes flutter closed as his head rolls back into Noah’s chest with a deep groan.
“Wanna see how I did?” Noah asks before pecking a kiss on Nick’s cheek. “Yeah,” Nick mumbles sleepily as Noah stretches his limbs long before sliding off the couch and offering an outstretched hand to him. Nick mentally shakes himself awake and accepts his boyfriend’s hand. Noah’s dazzling grin makes Nick blush; he will never tire of Noah’s smile and how it makes him feel all floaty inside.
Noah leads them into the hallway where some of Nick’s art is framed on the wall. One of Nick’s favorite spots, besides their bedroom of course. One day when Nick was at the shop, Noah took it upon himself, without any prompting or nagging for that matter, to paint and decorate the hall just for Nick. A smile creases his eyes as he remembers crying into Noah’s arms when he saw the sweet gift that Noah had given him.
Nick is pulled back to the present when Noah puts his hands on his shoulders to stop him in front of the full-length mirror right outside their bedroom door. Butterflies dance in his stomach as he looks up at Noah through the mirror and catches a soft flush color his cheeks.
“Thank you,” Nick beams, before reaching up across his chest to grab at Noah’s hand resting on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his tattooed knuckles.
Suddenly, Nick is spun around and shoved against the mirror with a thud. Before his tired brain can catch up, Noah pries his lips apart with his tongue. Nick kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Noah’s neck to deepen the heated kiss. Noah groans and grinds his hard cock against Nick’s thigh just for a second, a tease- before untangling himself completely.
Nick whines with a disapproving huff, but quickly clamps his jaw shut and casts his eyes to the ground. His cheeks burn with shame and his shoulders tense waiting for his punishment. Nick flinches slightly when a finger tilts his chin up. To his surprise, Noah’s brown eyes are soft and a small smile lifts the corners of his lips.
“Sor-” Noah silences Nick with a finger to his lips. “It’s ok, tonight I will let it slide,” Noah assures him.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to shower and I’ll meet you in bed, ok?” Noah lifts Nick’s as his lips ghost across his inked moons.
“Yes, sir.” Nick flashes a wicked grin before leaning on his tiptoes and steals another kiss from Noah before making his way to the bedroom.
The sound of trickling water filters into his ears when Noah turns on the shower tap, as Nick crosses the threshold. A glint of something metallic catches his eye on the wall; within the small collection of collars and other leathers- Noah’s birthday gift shines brightly illuminated by the moonlight, an oxblood collar with rose gold metal. Hopefully, they will be able to break it in soon.
Nostalgia makes his heart flutter, when his eyes drift over the shadow box the pair crafted together, a simple matte frame full of hotel business cards and pamphlets they collected over the years from all over the world. One card in particular stands out, the hotel was overbooked and Nick and Noah were forced to share a single bed.
Nick chuckles at the memory of how nervous Noah was that night, but somehow something they thought would be terrible, turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to them. Nick yawns again, stretching his body long as Noah starts to sing in the shower. His eyelids flutter as he crawls under the covers and Noah’s soft voice lulls him to sleep.
_____
Noah finds Nick sound asleep in bed. The corners of his lips curl in a smirk as he watches his boyfriend’s bare chest rise and fall. He thinks it's cute the way Nick clutches the pillow tight to his side when he sleeps. Noah chuckles to himself as a devilish and delicious idea pops into his head.
He always knew Nick had a thing for his voice. When Nick explained exactly what he wanted, though—especially on this particular day—Noah couldn’t help but oblige.”
Noah waits for one more breath before fishing the earbuds from the pocket of his joggers and padding silently into the room. Noah freezes when Nick stirs, but soon he is snoring softly. Noah slowly exhales the breath he is holding before leaning over his boyfriend to pop an earbud in his ear gently. His heart pounds in his ears as he waits for Nick to wake but he doesn't. Relief washes over him as he leans against the wall and slides his phone from his pocket. He finds the voice memo he made only hours prior of him jerking off. He makes sure the volume is low when he presses play.
The moan Nick makes shoots straight to Noah's dick. “N-n,” Nick’s soft moan turns into a snore as his movements sputter out. Hungry to pull more beautiful noises from his boyfriend, Noah increases the volume just a bit.
Nick grunts and his shoulders tense as he holds the pillow tighter. Noah pops in the other earbud and it's like deja vu or maybe it’s inception. The moans in his ear, his moans- turn him on just as much as his boyfriend.
When he can’t take it any longer, Noah frees his hard-on from his boxers and spits on his hand before stroking himself, matching Nick’s thrusts against the pillow. His head rolls back against the wall with a thud as he shuts his eyes tight, focusing on the noises coming from the sleeping man’s mouth. He turns up the volume once again and Nick starts to whimper. Noah clenches his jaw tight at the sound as the pleasure begins to coil in his core.
“Noa-” Nick’s raspy groan is Noah’s demise. “Fuck,” Noah hisses as precum slicks his hand. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds his boyfriend’s hair an unruly mess and his body trembling.
It’s now or never.
Noah pushes himself off the wall and rips the covers off of Nick. In his deep sleep, instinct takes over as Nick ruts faster against the pillow. Noah grips the headboard with his free hand and leans over Nick, quickly stroking the precum over his erect cock. A deep moan shudders through him uninhibited. It’s then he finally hears it.
“Noah.”
With white knuckles, his rhythm sputters in time with Nick’s as his cum splashes onto his boyfriend’s back. Grunting, he works himself through the aftershock as Nick’s body stills, his breath slowing back to snoring.
Breathing heavily as Noah comes down from the post-orgasm high, he tucks himself into his boxers and pulls his shirt off to carefully clean up his mess. After discarding the shirt on the floor, he climbs into bed with Nick, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder before wrapping his arm around his bare waist to pull him closer. Breathing in Nick’s scent and body heat, he whispers, “Happy Birthday Nicholas.”
“Thank you,” Nick mumbles with a satisfied sigh, nuzzling closer to his boyfriend.
💜thank you for reading💜
#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens#bad omens band#bad omens cult#noah sebastian#nicholas ruffilo#bad omens fanfic#noah sebastian fic#bad omens rpf#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fanfic#nicholas ruffilo fanfic#nicholas ruffilo fic#nicholas ruffilo rpf#noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo#nicholas ruffilo x noah sebastian#nick x noah#CW: D/s#cw: somnophilia#cw: consensual voyeurism#CW: acousticophilia#ladyveronikawrites
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strap the wing to me (death trap clad happily) || a Bad Omens fanfic
Pairing: fae!Noah x gender neutral reader (yes the smut is gn too)
Summary: He’s beautiful, so, so gorgeous, unless otherwise he’s completely grotesque, a scent of something eldritch you’d rather not acknowledge. When he kisses you, he tastes of burnt wax and antimony, straps candlewick wings to your aching back, and you don the death trap happily.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: unbeta'd trash. overly flowery written pretty much entirely in prose. smutty smut smut. oral sex. just a tiny whiff of dubious consent by way of fae trickery
A/N: I drank a lot of wine and listened to Hozier on repeat the other night and then saw a very mind-meltingly beautiful pic of Noah on the dash and had a really weird dream and this is the result. Enjoy the ramblings xoxo Fern
Brainrot Club: @familiarscarsxelectrichearts @throughwoodsanddirt @cowpokeomens
Masterlist here.
Title taken from Sunlight by Hozier; banner made by @throughwoodsanddirt; dividers by @saradika
“You lost?” he asks, and that is what ruins you. You’ve heard the old stories of wicked fae-men and how to avoid them - beware strange beings in the wood, don’t stray from the path - but in all the stories, none author had bothered to mention they’d peek around a tree with wide, irresistibly innocent curiosity and ask you, You lost?
There’s a flash of a glint in his eye, a bare twitch in his lip predating what might’ve been a smirk, but you can’t help but smile at the childlike confidence in his voice, and then he smiles back and –
That too is your ruin. There perhaps hasn’t been a sweeter smile - not in your years, not in the years of all of time, you reckon - to grace a human being, and it steals your breath sure as he’d picked it from your pocket. He takes it as an offering, slinking around the trunk with the air of something much smaller, more slight than he; gravity must be a friend, lover, even, with the grace she offers to his motion.
His eyelashes flutter on his cheeks as you take his tattooed hand - an imperious command, or perhaps a childish invitation - granting you the proof of satisfaction you hadn’t known you’d been waiting for, a breath of relief expelling from its locked chamber you’d ignored until now.
You stare, because how can you not? He is beautiful, yes, but his visage flickers from soft to vulpine with a flicker of shadow and moonlight, something inhuman, dangerous, alien turning well-bred beauty, like the kind some are just born with, masculinity encapsulated by that rare softness.
He’s beautiful, so, so gorgeous, unless otherwise he’s completely grotesque, a scent of something eldritch you’d rather not acknowledge. Within a breath, he moves from shy, soft smiles to something aloof, something dangerously mischievous, something terrifying when the moon shines just so and you’re reminded of that glint in his eye. You only need blink for that chipped granite of his cheekbone and hardened brow to give way to that downy smile once more, like it had never gone.
You walk over roots, vines and ivies and he is barefoot, feet uncalloused and unscarred.
The trek back to the path is as treacherous as he warned, for which he never lets your hand go - vines threatening to trip you up with each step, roots growing where there were none minutes ago. He regales you with faerie-tales - his childhood, he calls it - and you follow his younger self through burrows and glades and loss and loss and loss and to the rivers and all the girls (and boys) that live in them, the monsters that he’d fought and the girls (and boys) he’d had there after, and to the mountains and still you follow and –
And he pauses, and you’re overcome with the bodily realization that you’re exhausted. You’re not sure how long you’ve walked, but your legs burn. Your feet are torn, shoes and socks evidently long gone somewhere along the way. Your head swims, and he barely turns before you collapse into him.
You don’t register the hawthorn he’s pressed you up against, solid as stone, until the bark digs through your shirt to chip and stab at your skin, oozing wet warmth down your back that’s conflated blood and sap in your mind. A tsk from his mouth - the sound forms so prettily on his perfectly formed Cupid’s bow - produces a golden fruit in his hand, taken from a bush or his pocket, or somewhere else entirely. You’re too dizzy to follow the movement of his hand. It’s so splendidly shiny, citrine flesh pulled so taught it aches for just the single prick to burst the saccharine juice within.
Before he even presses it to your lips, the scent makes your molars ache to grind it to a pulp. He teases it, hovering it before your mouth, reveling in your fight against the strong thigh he presses to your core to reach it.
His fingers brush your lips when he finally acquiesces, and he blushes with a bashful smile like it’d been a mistake, and between his smile and the alchemically intoxicating scent of the fruit, you forget all about the warnings of eating Fae offerings and -
It bursts like an eyeball with just the barest graze of your teeth, blessed wet rushing to coat your throat liquid as the taste has done to you; it is the sweetest, sharpest flavor you’ve tasted, salty too - though perhaps that’s the tears streaming down your face. Your core throbs a drumbeat. You’re nothing more than meat and nerves and blood in a sac of skin, pulsing as the seeds and pulp slither down your throat.
Your head dips - involuntarily - to suck the sap from each digit. You want to wrap your legs around him, to grind shamelessly until you too are nothing but sap.
When he kisses you, he tastes of burnt wax and antimony, straps candlewick wings to your aching back, and you don the death trap happily.
He draws you down to the bed of moss with kisses and gentle strokes, soft and spongy and earthen and cool and moist beneath your naked skin. His great coat envelops you both, secreting beneath it the dance of his nails (not nails, but claws, unpainted black and whispering a deadly promise) along the planes of your burning, overstuffed skin. He swallows down your whimpers and gasps, curiosity painting his face lent by innocence to understanding his touch is the cause; too light a touch, you think, you need more.
The callus of his fingers speaks of handiwork as they brush you, painting you red hot and wanting. He watches his brushes as they stroke lower with open fascination, like you’re the one alien and not he.
You arch into him, begging for your flesh to be flayed from bone, for him to sink those razors he calls teeth down to the marrow. There they are at your chest, dangerously grazing the delicate pebble of your nipple, plump damp lips suckling it as though it is the fruit itself. There is his hand at your thigh, hot palm pressing your leg up his waist, clever, spindly fingers teasing the apex, wandering but never finding home.
He laughs when you reach for him, for the heat beneath his trousers weighing heavy in the cradle of your hips. “Later,” he tells you, swallowing down your indignant whine before it can burst forth. Now, you want to beg, but then his hand reaches the destination you desire most, shackling you to the singular sensation in short, strong strokes, and you think, okay, later.
Your skin burns, stretched taught and oversensitive as he probes you, knuckles bulbs as they puncture the precipice, only the cool damp of the moss beneath you granting reprieve. You paw at it helplessly, unmoored, gripping up great chunks of it in Sisyphean effort to ground yourself against the fullness.
He chuckles. “Never said you couldn’t touch,” he mutters against your belly, words muffled by your skin as the vibrations run straight through your core. Something ragged wrenches from you as you dive your hands in his hair, pulling at soft and silky and ink-dark even in the twilight canopy of the wood; a slippery purchase at best as he journeys downward, leaving lush, slick trails in the wake of his mouth that nearly steam against the cool of the breeze.
He laughs, exultant, and curls those clever fingers inside you hard, bifurcating within you, plying and playing, and teasing and then, then, finally, his head dives between your legs. A hot breath first, a nudge of that pointed nose, then his wicked tongue, licking and lapping and curling, and then those sweet lips wrapping and sucking around you, tongue pressing until you’re reduced to faint breath, until you can only cling with the white static tuned to the red-earthen-hot tune of want.
You come, spread apart like a dam on the moss. He leeches to you, stroking and sucking and curling and pressing until there’s nothing left in you but shallow heaves and twitching limbs.
The smirk spreading his mouth when you finally settle in the cradle of his arms is so absurdly silly, so endearing and human, so real, you can’t help but laugh, curling drunkenly into it, each breath a stabbing pain you receive gladly. He gathers you, watching as you laugh, seeming pleased with himself as a cat with cream.
Together, when you’re once again able, you gather what can be salvaged of your clothes. It’s not much, so he cloaks you in his coat, the unstarched fabric simultaneously stiff and soft against your bare skin, sliding silkily with each step. He guides you along by his lithe arm, veins dancing up the tattooed lengths like sinew upon bark, hand now sticky from being buried within you.
The fallen leaves ease your way, damp earth gathering between your toes, sluicing off the pain with the cool of it.
He leads you where? There is no door, no hawthorn trees nor spiderwebs, no shimmering air to pass through yet for a moment you are distracted, and then you are in the woods no longer. The walls are earthen, ancient vines thick as elk climbing like supporting pillars, illimitably, impossibly, reaching for nothing but night sky. The stars, though far above, seem sharper, tangible, and close as you might reach should you choose as you stare into the boundless void between; a darkness luring so sweetly you’d tumble into it for a single unsteady step.
For the first time since he found you, you do not struggle to look away from him. Walls give way to great earthen colonnades, thousand-story balustrades housing hanging gardens of lady slippers and cowslips and columbines glimmering in the light of torches tall as men. Above it all is still the fathomless, terrifying sky, and everywhere there are people, throngs of faerie folk in every direction as far as you can see. Most pay you no mind but those that do, do so with blessedly parlous curiosity, curling lips clueing teeth that’d bite.
The sheer number of colors and shapes and bodies has your memory grow fading, evanescent. Some have hooves or scales or feathers, beaks or antlers, and others - just a face the wrong side of sharp, limbs lengthened just past that boundary of eldritch. A few stand out: a man, long-haired and goateed who’d pass human were he not nearly twice the size of a regular man, with sclera deep as bitter licorice; another, flat-faced with the lightest eyes you’d ever seen, veins and sinew and muscle coiling and rippling beneath transparent skin; a creature you struggle to wrap your mind around, a great wolf’s maw forced where the young man’s mouth would be, slitted pupils twitching as he watches you pass, hackles raised.
Your skin erupts in gooseflesh, and Noah bends his head to nip at it.
There are three girls standing with heads bowed together, faces painted in warm knavery, identical in all but where they split the embodiment of moon, sun, and void. One’s hands look capable of melting your skin off, and another’s claws drip an ichor you’d let run poison deep below your sluicing skin as you’re blinded by the radiant glow of the third.
You imagine them spreading you apart, tasting you, tasting them. You’re acutely aware of the heady sourness of your arousal, a scent so human amid bark and earth and animal scent, among burning floral oils.
They are beautiful. They are all beautiful, and you’re struck with a pang of precipitous, desperate hunger. You want all of them. Blisteringly.
“All of them?” he chuckles, nuzzling the side of your face, insectile fingers gripping your jaw firm with practiced precision. “Greedy.”
Your veins already are hot, pulsing iron, overstimulated and frazzled, but now they spill crimson across your cheekbones, hairline tightening at the tone of his accusation. But he only coos, bringing you in with tangling arms round your waist.
“Spare me,” he sighs against your temple. “Greed is good. You’ll have it all and more later. But first, let us sate that hunger.”
Yes, let us, you think. You never could refuse his command. You hope he will feed you more of those delightful fruits.
#bad omens rpf#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian x reader#fern words
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