Heather Heather And Ciel

We’ll see how I feel in the morning, however:

I think I will deactivate my account. Not DELETE it, because some of my writing that actually mattered exists only on this site, and you all seem to be against me deleting the account itself. But I will be deleting my APP and no longer be posting or interacting other accounts. Maybe some day I’ll come back but for now this is it.

Thank you to everyone who has been loyal, loving, and supportive. You can HMU if you’d like to stay in touch. And like I said, I may redownload the app come back to the account after a while so we’ll have to see.

Please don’t try to talk me out of this because it’s hard enough as it is. This is for my own mental wellbeing, as this app is doing me more harm than good at this point.

And like I said, I’m gonna sleep on it. Maybe in the morning I’ll come to my senses and think “what the fuck, no, keep the app.” But we’ll see. This is at least semi permeant but if I chose to come back I still can.

Thank you to those of you who care. I love you, keep being wonderful people and creators.

Thank you to those of you who care💕

The night had been long, seemingly never-ending for the young earl. He had been in and out of sleep since eight, when Sebastian had first insisted he retire to bed. Sweet beading along his brow, Ciel kicked the blankets off again and again, breathing heavily through his mouth because he could not do so through his nose.

Sebastian had been back and forth from the bathroom to his bedside, cooling his heated skin with a wet rag and icy fingertips. Ciel was mature for his age, wise beyond his years, but nothing could reduce him back to the petulant little child he was faster than a cold. It was not until late, late into the night, so late it could almost be early morning, that his coughing finally ceased and his fever broke and he managed to find solace in a deep, though still restless sleep.

When the sun began to rise, and Sebastian could hear the servants rousing themselves downstairs, he knew he should join them, or rather supervise them, in making preparations for the day. But he could not. He couldn’t tear himself away from the soft slumbering form in the bed beside him.

Even with his lips cracked and dried from the sour sick breath passing over them all night long, flaking bits of crusted snot lining the interior of his nose, skin dank with dried sweat; even though Ciel was sickness embodied, Sebastian found him beautiful. Breathtaking.

He leaned forward and brushed a tendril of hair from Ciel’s face with foreign tenderness. Then he kissed him gently on the crown of his forehead, his lips cold stone against Ciel’s warm skin, thankful he had made it through the night in one piece. He still wanted to taste his lips, but he couldn’t risk disturbing him. Any other day, he would be wheeling a cart of tea with biscuits or scones up to his bedside, waking him with the morning paper and reviewing the day’s schedule.

A French lesson, scheduled violin practice, a meeting with a Funtom factory representative, another with a chaplain from the church settled on the Phantomhive estate. There were letters of thanks to sign and several cease-and-desist notices to competition attempting to imitate Funtom’s products that needed authorization from the intimidating young earl. There was the matter of the banquet next week in need of proper planning, and the Countess Brautigam’s unanswered invitation to the opera.

If I was gonna write it… like, Sebastian would be having sex with Ciel. Really giving it to him slow, because he likes looking at where he’s dipping into him. He asks Ciel if he can film it. He lets him. Likes it. Trembles all over, belly down on the mattress when Sebastian mutters how he wished he could show the video to his team. That it makes him feel so proud and powerful, fucking into Ciel like that.

And the nineteen-year-old tenses up, enough for Sebastian to laugh low and start running his mouth all like “yeah, would you like that? All the boys seeing my dick in you huh?” and Ciel almost cries, he loves how that sounds. His brain tells him that’d be a nightmare but his body arches off the sheets like it’s so sexy to think about. Fuck. Sebastian keeps it up, hand pressed down into his spine to keep him pinned and mutters, tongue tracing his ear. “Do you want them to see? Do you want my friends to fuck you?”

And Ciel flinches at that. “No! No of course not, I only want you, I don’t want anyone else,” he squeals - because it’s true. He only loves Sebastian, he’s never thought about it with another man but fuck, the hockey player laughs against the back of his neck, stops thrusting so he can grind down in little circles, telling him it’s okay. He knows. But he won’t let it go, keeps telling Ciel in his honeyed, deep voice how he’d share Ciel, if that’s what he wanted. That he’d let his best friends fuck him, if he could watch. If Ciel’s heart belonged to him.

And he doesn’t miss how Ciel clamps down on him. It makes him harder. Makes his hands squeeze down on his hips. “Who?” He grunts. Ciel can’t even speak, he’s backing up him, looks like a slut. Mouth wet with spit. “Who baby, huh? Finny?” And Ciel whines, shakes his head like he’s insulted - but his cheeks are pink.

“Is it Bard? Does he make you hot?” And Ciel gets tighter, grabs the sheets rough and moans. But he shakes his head. Sebastian stops moving. He’s sweating. His princess is pinned down, his eye honest and wide and man, he’s so in love and you can hear how in love he is, when he brushes back Ciel’s hair, kisses his head and whispers.

“It’s Agni.”

And the way Ciel clamps down on the end of his cock is answer enough, has to check his boyfriend hasn’t come yet because he’s shaking like he has. God, the hockey player loves him. Loves how honest his body is, even when he’s chewing his mouth so he doesn’t admit how bad he wants another man. That’s when Sebastian sits up, still dick deep inside, and yells.

“Agni! Hey!” Loud enough that everyone can fucking hear it. All the colour comes out of Ciel’s face. Sebastian rubs his excited hips. A few seconds later the door opens a crack, Agni with an open book in his palm, not really paying attention as he sticks his head in the door and says “yeah, what.”

UPS drivers have the most interesting photos to share. 

Concept of Angela.